Four hours or more he’ll last, grandmother. It’s the best I could manage.
Thirty-One
Alexis made her way back along Röslein’s hull from the stern, pulling herself forward along one of the guidewires that crisscrossed the hull.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The ship was still firmly within the winds that blew directly toward the system’s center, though Baikonur had no pilot boats whose lights could be used to judge distance. Beating to windward to leave the system, their speed was not so great. It had taken some time, she thought, for Coalson’s form to fade from view in the distance.
Perhaps an hour?
None of the ship’s crew were on the hull still. Dansby must have kept the helm locked all that time. Her eyes automatically took in the set of Röslein’s sails against the direction of the wind. They were not on the best point of sail at all, so, yes, Dansby must have kept the crew inboard, waiting for her to be done with Coalson.
She closed her eyes and let the wire run loosely through her hands as her momentum carried her forward.
Her thoughts about the sails weren’t enough to keep her mind from what she’d just done. It was as though two voices had warred for control of her and, now Coalson was out of sight, the one that wanted him spaced and drifting behind the ship had settled into quiet satisfaction, leaving her with only the one horrified at what she’d done for company.
Not voices, no, but parts of my own soul.
She still felt satisfaction at Coalson’s fate, but it was deep and distant, not at the forefront of her thoughts, and its presence only horrified her more. She felt her gorge rise and began pulling on the guidewire again to reach the sail locker faster.
She forced herself to think of nothing while the locker aired, then took a deep breath as she grasped the inner hatch’s handle. She didn’t think it would be wise to show weakness or regret to Röslein’s crew after what she’d just done — and Dansby, as well as Mynatt, would likely be displeased. There was no telling what her act would do to their chances of collecting a bounty on Coalson.
She entered the quarterdeck. Bowhay had joined Dansby and Mynatt, and there was a spacer at the helm as well.
The four of them stared at Alexis, but said nothing, and she tried not to look at them as she passed. Neither did she look at any of the crew on the messdeck as she made her way to the ship’s cabins and the single head those who berthed there shared. She could feel their eyes on her, though, and how they paused and went still as she passed.
She started to run a bit of water in the sink, thinking to splash her face, then lurched for the toilet as her stomach rebelled.
Some time later, there was a tapping at the hatch. Alexis ignored it. Her stomach was empty, but still convulsed and she felt too weak to move. If Dansby, Mynatt, or Bowhay needed to use the head, they could go aft to the crew’s. Röslein wasn’t a Navy ship where she might have to answer to a superior officer.
The hatch slid open.
“I’m busy,” Alexis said, trying for as much dignity as she could, being sprawled on the deck with her head over a bowl. She didn’t look up, as she had no desire to speak to anyone.
“Oh, no doubt,” Mynatt said, sliding the hatch shut behind her. “You’ve been busy, aye.”
“I would prefer some privacy, Miss Mynatt,” Alexis said. Whatever the woman had to say, whatever recriminations, could well wait a bit. She was sure she’d hear from Dansby as well.
And the Navy will have its say, when it comes time for Dansby to ask for his bounty and recounts these events.
“No doubt,” Mynatt repeated. She set a bottle on the sink, then eased herself down to sit on the deck, back to the hatch. Her injured leg, still in a brace, barely had room to extend across the small space of the head. Mynatt winced as she settled herself.
Alexis winced too, thinking of how close she’d been to pulling her chemical pistol instead of the flechette when she’d shot Mynatt.
“I am sorry about that,” Alexis said.
Mynatt grunted.
“At least it wasn’t a bullet to the head, I’ve that to be thankful for,” she said, echoing Alexis’ thoughts. She paused and frowned, staring at Alexis’ face. “Oh, it was a close-run thing, was it?”
Alexis flushed.
“Doubly thankful, then, that you paused to think … with me at least.” She reached up and took the bottle from the sink, holding it out to Alexis. She nodded at the bowl. “To get the taste from your mouth.”
Alexis took it gratefully. It was rum, not her favorite unless mixed into ship’s grog, which she’d acquired a taste for, but it might burn away a bit more than the taste. She rinsed her mouth, spat, and then took a long drink.
“The crew is disturbed,” Mynatt said, waving away Alexis’ offer of the bottle. “What you did …” She shook her head.
“He —”
“I heard his threats. Still …”
Alexis took another drink, glad that Mynatt had cut her off. She and Dansby had heard Coalson’s threats, true enough, but they hadn’t heard what the man had confessed to Alexis. She’d been about to say, and was just as glad that she hadn’t, now she had a moment to think on it. Mynatt wasn’t her friend and there was no reason to share such confidences.
“You’ve a temper needs taming,” Mynatt went on. “I’ve served with hard men since coming to work Avrel’s ships, some not so much removed from a pirating cruise as I’d like, but even they’d not do as you did to that man.”
Alexis took another long drink. Her self-recriminations were difficult enough to take; to be reproved by the likes of Anya Mynatt was harder to put up with. Still, the woman had a point. Her temper had got the better of her more than once and it had been only luck that things worked out.
“I’ve my own battles with hasty action,” Mynatt said. “Had an officer’s berth with the Marchant Company once.”
Alexis raised an eyebrow. The Marchant Company held exclusive shipping rights to Hso-Hsi, and their profits were legendary. The shares ship’s officers received in a single voyage could leave them set for life.
“What happened?”
Mynatt narrowed her eyes and grabbed the bottle from Alexis, taking a long pull before handing it back.
“That’s not to the point,” Mynatt said, “only that my temper got the better of me and I acted without thinking through the consequences.” She waved a hand at the bulkhead. “Now I’m here and prospects with Avrel Dansby are not nearly so bright as with Marchant. And don’t think I’m telling you this from any care for yourself. It’s only that Avrel’s told me you’re key to this voyage and he’s loath to see it fail. For yourself, I could give a fig, but if your temper harms our chances more than it already has —” She took a deep breath and pushed herself up. “Master yourself, girl.”
Alexis nodded.
Mynatt paused, her hand on the hatch.
“Do you really intend to harm his sons?” she asked.
Alexis winced. She should have assumed Dansby and Mynatt would have listened in on the events in the lock.
“No,” she said. “No, I wanted Daviel Coalson to die with that thought in his head —” She caught Mynatt’s eye, acknowledging that it was a cruel desire. “— but I’ve no grudge against Edmon or his other sons. So far as I know they’re blameless in all of this. This feud, one-sided as it’s been, has caused enough bloodshed.”
Mynatt grunted. “Of course you’ve just killed their father for a second time … the lads may take exception to that.”
Thirty-Two
Alexis kept to herself in the weeks that followed.
The ship made its zig-zag pattern from system to system, picking up cargo after cargo, both aboveboard and illicit. Dansby put her on the watch schedule, primarily, Alexis thought, to get her out of her cabin from time to time. Their ruse of calling her Dansby’s niece, never too firm to begin with, had clearly collapsed completely. Röslein’s crew was certain that she was not some far-removed relative learning Dansb
y’s business and that Röslein’s journey was not their norm.
They seemed to accept, though, that both Dansby and Mynatt were of the same mind now, and further accepted Alexis as the source of their voyage’s profits. That was enough for them, so long as they were paid. They were not, however, very accepting of Alexis herself.
There was no overt hostility, but Alexis didn’t feel the looks of fear she got from the crew were an improvement. They cast nervous glances her way whenever she was about the ship. Those who shared the quarterdeck with her during watch remained silent and jumped whenever she spoke. It reminded her of nothing so much as how the crew aboard Hermione had acted toward Captain Neals, and Alexis kept to her cabin partly to avoid their looks.
Part of her wanted to explain to the crew the circumstances of Coalson’s death and what he’d done. She suspected many of the men might sympathize with her at least a bit. Still she wasn’t sure how she’d feel if they didn’t. She wished, frequently, that she could have brought Isom along with her on Röslein. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d come to rely on his steady presence and assistance.
Dansby and Mynatt asked her to dine with them from time to time, but the two seemed to have grown inordinately closer since their confrontation over Alexis. They were openly sharing the master’s cabin now, something the crew was more easily with than Alexis’ own actions. It was an acceptance that would never occur aboard a Navy ship, and Alexis didn’t understand it.
She rarely accepted the invitations, in any case, finding herself both uncomfortable at the couple’s displays of affection and, to tell the truth, a bit jealous.
The closer they came to Dietraching, the system Dansby had discovered was where the Berry March fleet was now based, the more impatient she became. Aside from it marking the end of their voyage, she longed to see Delaine again. It felt like being with him again might help her make sense of her own feelings.
When they finally did arrive, they found that most of the Berry March fleet was in-system, along with more than a few other Hanoverese naval vessels. Once docked, Alexis fretted about the ship while Dansby and his crew roamed the station, gathering information about the fleet and its officers’ habits.
“You can’t just go blundering about crying his name through the corridors, Carew,” Dansby said in response to her latest complaint that she wanted to leave the ship. “Not least because your German sounds like a poor New London vidshow of the last war. Let my crew do their job — they know we want this man, they’ll track him down.”
“And why haven’t they yet?” she demanded. She poured another glass of wine, but found the bottle empty and set it on the common table between the cabins. “Is it so very difficult to determine what ship a man is on and which pubs he frequents? I’d think that would be far easier information to gather than finding illegal goods to fill your holds.”
“When that man is a naval officer in time of war, yes, it is more difficult. At least if one wishes to remain out of an Hanoverese prison, that is.” Dansby frowned as she rose and crossed to the shared pantry that stored their wine. “And would you want to cut back a bit on that? You’ll want your wits about you when we do locate him.”
Alexis stopped. Despite his tone, Dansby did have a point. A crewman could return at any moment with word of where Delaine was and she might have very little time to come up with a plan for meeting him.
“Perhaps you’re right.” She returned to her seat, picked up her half-filled glass, then set it down again. She had been drinking more than was usual even for a spacer these last weeks. She knew it was an effort to avoid thinking about what she’d done to Coalson. Moreover, it was an effort to avoid the nightmares that had come back with renewed force — she thought that might have more to do with her idleness than anything else, though. “Have your men found out anything at all?”
Dansby sat. He took her half-filled glass for himself, as though he didn’t want her to have even that little bit more drink, and drained it.
“Some,” he allowed. “There’ve been some changes in the Berry March fleet.” He held up a hand to forestall her questions. “Let me tell it, not pester me with questions.
“Those worlds have never properly assimilated into Hanover, we knew that or we wouldn’t be here for this purpose to begin with. It’s why they’ve been allowed that fleet in the first place, a ‘local defense force’ that’s a sop to their sensibilities. With this war, though, Hanover seems to be more concerned about them already. They’ve never brought that fleet this deep into Hanover before, and these explanations they make about ‘exercises’ with the Hanoverese fleet proper aren’t sitting well with the Berry March spacers aboard station.
“Nor are some changes in the command structure. Balestra’s still in overall command, but some Hanoverese officers have gone aboard some ships, and every ship now has a sort of political guide who’s Hanoverese.”
Dansby rubbed his face.
“I can’t believe I’m saying it,” he went on, “but I could wish Eades were here to better read the politics. If the Berry March spacers are unhappy with these things, it’s certain those on the worlds themselves are as well. That would seem to bode well for Eades’ mad plan. Still … these political officers worry me. I’ve dealt with them before in Hanover and don’t like it. They’re a bit frightening and it will make this Balestra’s task of revolt much harder. I’d prefer we had Röslein well away from here before she begins her little fun, if you can manage that at all once you speak to her.”
Alexis nodded. She could understand that. Dansby had signed on to help her deliver the message, not get involved in whatever might come after.
“And of Delaine? Lieutenant Theibaud? Is there any word?” she asked.
Dansby nodded. “We should have a place you can make your presence known to him soon.”
“Where?”
Dansby waved her back into her seat. “Calm yourself, Carew. Please. It’s a pub he frequents, but always in the company of other officers — some from the Berry worlds, but others are these new Hanoverese officers in the fleet. You’ll have to be careful about approaching him there.”
Alexis took a deep breath. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her. After all the weeks of travel aboard Röslein, they were almost at the end.
Thirty-Three
Alexis watched the group of officers at the table around Delaine. She wasn’t sure which would be better, to approach him here or follow when he left. The pub was crowded with Hanoverese naval officers and any conversation here could easily be overheard, but if she followed him one of the other officers might notice and how would she explain that? Perhaps it would be better to wait until another time. But that would entail finding Delaine again. It had taken some days of observation by Dansby’s crew, far more versed in that sort of skullduggery than Alexis, to spot him leaving his ship and tail him to this pub where Alexis might have a chance of catching his eye.
She glanced toward Dansby, who’d taken a table near the pub’s entrance to watch over her. She moved farther in, pressing through the slight crowd to find a table from where she could observe Delaine. She fought the urge to look around, as she felt out of place and certain she was being watched. Not only because she was surrounded by Hanoverese, no few of them naval officers, but because she was in civilian dress and still not used to it. Despite the shopping she’d forced on Dansby, she’d worn none of the items save ship’s jumpsuits for the entire trip, preferring their comfort and familiarity.
The pub’s clientele was a mix of civilian and Hanoverese navy personnel, and more upscale, catering to lieutenants and commanders, and those with more than a bit of spare coin, she assumed, given the dress of the civilians present. Delaine was at a table with four other lieutenants and they seemed engrossed in conversation, paying little attention to the rest of the pub.
The table before her lit up with drink and food choices as she sat down. She sighed a little, thankfully that Dietraching was a sufficiently advanced system tha
t she wouldn’t have to ply her limited German simply to order from a human server. She could recognize enough to read the menu and order a glass of bourbon and a few moments later a floating server lowered onto her table and delivered it.
“Fräulein, darf ich sie kaufen ein getränk?”
Alexis looked up from her drink to find a man at the other side of the table gesturing at an empty chair with a hopeful smile on his face.
“Nein, danke, ich warte auf jemanden,” she said with a smile. While she’d mastered little more of German, despite lessons with Dansby, that was a phrase, and several like it, she’d practiced to recognize well enough, expecting to be approached if she spent much time sitting alone. Thankfully the man simply nodded and moved on, accepting that she was waiting for someone instead of pressing his suit.
She glanced once more toward Delaine’s table, hoping he’d look her way, when he looked up, laughing at something one of the other men at his table said. His eyes passed over her, then returned. He blinked, frowned, then looked away and back again.
Alexis’ breath caught as their eyes met. It had been so very long and she hadn’t thought to see him again, possibly not ever. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and raised her eyebrows slightly. Now that he’d seen her, she’d leave the decision on where to approach up to him.
The officers at his table had noticed the change in his expression and followed his gaze to her. One of them said something and the others laughed. Delaine said something in return, not taking his eyes from her, and they laughed again. More words were exchanged and more laughter. Delaine kept glancing her way, until finally he stood, said one last thing to the other officers, then straightened his uniform tunic and walked toward her.
“Ma biche,” he whispered when he reached her table.
Alexis grinned, though there was a deep pain in her chest. She hadn’t realized how much she longed to hear his pet names for her again. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but that could be dangerous here, as it would have to be explained.
Alexis Carew: Books 1, 2, and 3 Page 77