by Mel Odom
This was only the opening movement, though. There had to be much more to come. Somewhere, the malign being that had put the invasion together was planning and plotting. Oghma granted Pacys the intelligence to know that, just as he was sure the rest of Waterdeep's leaders must be thinking the same thing: what had been gained here tonight? The city had stood.
He shook his head, knowing he wasn't going to understand everything yet. He trusted that he'd be guided further.
Looking around, he saw the faces of the men as they gave aid to the wounded, gave comfort to the dying, and made peace with the dead. It was hard, harsh work, and would leave more scars than physical wounds ever would.
Pacys wished he had his yarting, but it was back at the Font of Knowledge. Still, he didn't let the lack of an instrument stop him. He sang a cappella, his voice sweet and true as it flowed over the galley's deck and out into the harbor. The song was an original of his that he called "Bind My Wounds and Fill My Heart." It had been written on a battlefield, conceived in the heat of war, and nurtured to fruition that same night as so many fought their final battle with death and lost.
As he sang he found that the song gave him strength and relief as well. A few of the men even knew the song and joined him on the chorus.
There was nothing, he knew, that would ever take away the losses that Waterdeep had suffered tonight.
XIX
15 Mirtul, the Year of the Gauntlet
"You don't have to do that."
Jherek looked up and spotted Breezerunner's ship's mage looking down at him. He hung down the side of the ship from two ropes, trussed up in a leather harness, using a barnacle spade to work on the ship's hull. "I like working with my hands," he told her.
"I couldn't think of much harder work." She waved at the hot sun blazing down over the becalmed water and added, "Or much harsher conditions."
She wore her copper colored hair short, hardly any longer than his. Her skin was browned from the sea and sun, but freckles stippled the bridge of her short nose. Her eyes were reddish brown, wide and full. She seemed friendly and liked to smile. Her mouth was generous and full-lipped, and he'd yet to see a displeased look on her face. From her position in the crew, he guessed that she was a few years older than he was. In the three days he'd been aboard Breezerunner, he'd never talked to her.
Jherek nodded. He couldn't think of much harder work either, which was why he'd chosen it. Perspiration covered him and the leather straps chaffed at him. He'd stripped down to knee-length breeches and a short-sleeved blouse. Both were drenched from the slight sea spray and sweat. Neither improved the way he smelled. "I'm not used to being a passenger."
"You're a sailor?" she asked.
"Aye." He took time to inspect the barnacle spade's edge again. He'd found that he liked looking at the ship's mage, but after the experience with the Amnians aboard Butterfly he'd taken pains not to allow himself too many glances in her direction. Still, staying in his cabin hadn't been an answer he could live with. When he'd seen the ship's crew ordered to scrape barnacles from the hull that morning he'd gone to the ship's mate, volunteered, and been grudgingly allowed. The mate had thought him deranged for even asking, even more so when he'd actually shown up for the work detail.
"Where's your ship?" she asked.
He glanced up at her, shading his eyes with his free hand as the sun came over the bow when Breezerunner dipped into the water, and said, "In Umberlee's arms." He hated telling the lie, but there was nothing else to do.
"You crewed aboard Silver Dassel!”
"Aye." The lie went against Jherek's nature. It felt like a wedge between them. He'd never forget he'd lied to her. Telling her the truth, though, was out of the question. Silver Dassel had gone down nearly a tenday ago, pulled down by a sahuagin raiding party not far from where Butterfly had been attacked.
"I'm sorry," she said. "It must have been hard."
Jherek let his silence be his only answer. Most of Silver Dassel's crew, including her captain, old Vinagir, hadn't come back. Many of the rest had scattered, trying to find new ships that would take them.
"I didn't know you were working on the hull till this afternoon when I did my inspection," she told him. "When Creil told me you'd volunteered for this and had booked a passage, I had to come see for myself."
Jherek smiled at her and shrugged. "I'm sure you've seen barnacles scraped off a hull before, lady." He studied the clean wood he'd left behind and said, "Unless I'm doing something wrong."
"Call me Sabyna. I'm no high-born to be flattered with titles."
"All right," he agreed, but the familiarity didn't feel comfortable to Jherek.
"The job you're doing," Sabyna said, "is probably better than any of the crew that Creil put together." She passed down a capped jar full of water at the end of a net pole.
"Thank you, lady." He drank the water, tasting the cool clean of it, then sent the jar back up.
She leaned her elbows on the railing and gazed down at him. She wore a long-sleeved dark green blouse tucked into loose-legged white breeches that showed off her womanly figure, and knee-high black leather boots that matched the wide black leather belt that supported a small bag and a brace of throwing knives.
"There's more work to be done about this ship if you've a mind," she said.
"Aye. I'd like that very much."
"Captain Tynnel says you're bound for Baldur's Gate."
"Aye."
"Hoping to find another ship there?"
"If I can."
She raised an eyebrow. "Impress the captain during the rest of the journey as you already have, maybe you'll find a berth here by the time you reach Baldur's Gate."
Jherek nodded. He didn't think a berth on Breezerunner had been what Madame litaar had in mind, but he felt stubborn about what he was supposed to do. Live, that you may serve. Perhaps he could do that best aboard Breezerunner. It felt good to think about.
"I've been ship's mage aboard Breezerunner for five years," she told him. "I've got some influence of my own."
Jherek didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't.
"I've also taken the liberty to talk to the captain on your behalf regarding the work you're doing on Breezerunner. Keep working and you'll be compensated. It won't be a full hand's pay-our budget won't allow it-but you should see a good return on your booking passage."
"You don't have to do that, lady."
"Sabyna."
She remained quiet, waiting till he looked her in the eye.
"Sabyna," he repeated.
"I've also noticed that you usually take a meal to your cabin and eat by yourself."
"Aye. You seem to be quite observant, la-Sabyna." Jherek felt a little irritated with her attention. He hadn't noticed that she'd been observing him, and it unnerved him to think that she might be watching him so closely.
"I'm ship's mage," she stated simply. "It's my responsibility to keep Breezerunner seaworthy and in good repair. I also log our charts for navigational purposes, check up on our pilot, and keep track of where everything is on this ship. I've developed a good eye for detail and I'm not easily distracted."
"You sound like you're very good at what you do."
"Thank you. I am."
Despite the unease he felt, Jherek had to smile at the confidence the woman projected.
"You're laughing at me?" she asked.
"No, lady."
"Sabyna."
"Aye."
"You are laughing."
Amazed at the lightness in his heart in spite of the depression that had clung to him over the past three days, Jherek looked up at her again. "Maybe a little."
Her thin brows arched over her eyes. "Over these next few days if you stay interested in helping out with ship's chores, you'll find out exactly how good I am."
"I look forward to the challenge."
"That's good, but for the moment, I'd be interested in knowing whether you'd look forward to having evening-feast with me tonight, as part of y
our repayment for the work you're doing."
The offer took Jherek totally by surprise. He swung along at Breezerunner's side as she cut through the nearly flat waves, feeling more at home hanging from the ropes than in dealing with the ship's mage's question.
"Is there a problem?" she asked.
"No."
"I don't think you're in a position to tell me that you've got a previous engagement," Sabyna said. "I'm not one to tolerate lying."
Her words stung Jherek, knowing he'd lied to her already and there was no way to take it back.
"So if you tell me anything other than yes, or that you'd rather not dine with me, I'd be inclined to cut these ropes and see how long you can float." She sounded gruffly threatening, but merriment lighted her eyes.
Jherek felt the pressure close in around him. The recent experience with the Amnians burned in his mind. Yiell's selfish and temporary interest in him had changed his whole life. He didn't want to think something else bad was going to happen, but it wouldn't have surprised him. A polite refusal was on his tongue when it betrayed him. He glanced up at the ship's mage and said, "Aye."
"Good," she exclaimed. "I'll come around to your cabin this eve and collect you."
He nodded, feeling like a boulder had lodged at the back of his throat and he just couldn't swallow it. His stomach turned flips.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Malorrie," he replied, choosing the phantom's name because it was seldom heard and he knew he'd always react to it, but it was another lie between them. It seemed he couldn't stop telling them.
"I've got a further warning then, Malorrie."
He shaded his eyes as he looked up at her, wondering if she'd be able to see the lie in his gaze.
"I cook my own meals, and I like exotic, spicy dishes. We may find out how strong your stomach is."
She smiled at him, then she was gone and Jherek found himself even more drenched in sweat than he'd been before. He forced himself to concentrate on the job at hand and not dwell on the things that might go wrong that evening.
Back on deck with the sun setting out in the Sea of Swords, looking like a molten gold ball settling into the flat azure of the ocean, Jherek waited his turn in line at the community water barrel bolted into the railing. The man in front of him took out a large dipperful of fresh water and poured it over his own head, washing away some of the accumulated dried salt that had come from the sea breeze.
The men in line behind Jherek complained, some of them loudly.
Jherek didn't blame them. Fresh water when a ship got becalmed was worth its weight in gold. It wasn't meant to be wasted on a voyage.
The man took another dipperful and splashed it over his head again, ignoring the complaints. He was a big man, broad shouldered and heavy bellied, easily weighing a hundred pounds more than Jherek. He had shaggy black hair that fell below his shoulders, a full beard that reached to his chest, and enough body hair to make him look even more like an ape. Small daggers as long as a finger hung from earrings in both ears. He wore a cutlass in a sash and had two fingers missing from his left hand.
"Damn it, Aysel," someone growled, "back away from the water and stop wasting it."
Aysel muttered a curse and tossed the dipper back into the barrel. He ran his thick fingers through his wet hair and walked to the side.
Jherek took the small cloth from his kit, wet it in the barrel, then wrung it out and stepped away. Working carefully to conserve the water in the cloth, he washed the salt from his face, then worked on the rest of his body that had been exposed to the spray.
"You pay attention, Aysel," a harsh voice used to command barked.
Drawn to the voice, Jherek looked up to the forecastle. Captain Tynnel stood there, arms crossed over his chest. He was a short man of small stature, but Jherek had heard nothing but good of the man while he'd been aboard. His hair was the bleached blond of old bone and he had a hatchet head for a face beneath his plumed, tri-corner hat. His piercing blue eyes belonged on a falcon. He pointed at Jherek and said, "There's a man knows how to treasure water. I don't see you having some of that same respect, you're going to be a long time between ships when we reach Baldur's Gate. Understand my drift, sailor?"
"Aye, sir," Aysel responded with a clenched jaw. He shot Jherek a murderous glare then stomped off. Several of the sailors called out jeers behind his back.
"You," the captain said, pointing his bony chin at Jherek, "boy."
"Aye, sir."
"Come up. I'd have a word with you if I might."
"Aye, sir." Nervous, Jherek ascended the narrow stairs leading up to the forecastle.
"There's nothing to be worried about, boy," the captain said when Jherek stood before him. "Just wanted a word with you."
"Aye, sir."
"Sabyna's mentioned you to me today, the work you'd done, and the fact that she'd like to give you more of it till we reach Baldur's Gate. That would be acceptable to you?" "Aye, sir."
"I'll return some of the money you paid for your passage, but I won't be able to return it all. I've got a profit to make, investors to keep happy." "I understand, sir."
"I thought you might. Did she mention you might be able to find a berth on Breezerunner when we got to Baldur's Gate?" "Aye, sir."
"I guessed that she might. I told her I wanted to tell you myself. She's always been headstrong." Tynnel narrowed his eyes. "Where're you having eveningfeast tonight, boy?"
"With the lady, sir." "Lady?"
"Ship's Mage Sabyna, sir."
"I must admit, that doesn't entirely surprise me either. That girl's got a good head on her shoulders, but she's impulsive too. Makes her damn good at her job. Most of the time."
Jherek remained quiet, not knowing where the conversation was headed. A captain had the right to question his crew's behavior aboard ship.
"She comes from good stock," the captain said. "Her father's a ship's mage, and one of her brothers. Another's a ranger in the Moonshaes, all of them good people." He took out a pipe and filled it with pipeweed, then lit it with considerable effort. "She's been crewing aboard Breezerunner for a few years. When her da let her come take this post, I gave him my word I'd see nothing come to harm her. I stand by my word." He looked up at Jherek through the haze of smoke. "In all those years, she's had only a few other men to eveningfeast. She shows a lot of discretion."
The revelation didn't surprise Jherek, but it did turn him a little cold wondering what the statement implied.
"Those men I knew," the captain went on. "I can't say that I always approved, but I did know them. I don't know you at all."
"I can cancel on her invitation," Jherek offered.
In fact, he thought it would take some pressure off if he was told not to go. He hadn't been able to turn the invitation down on his own. It wouldn't have been the right thing to do, especially to a lady.
The captain looked at him in disbelief. "You'd cancel eveningfeast with Sabyna on my say so?"
"Aye, sir. I'm just looking for passage to Baldur's Gate. I wouldn't want to cause any trouble."
Shaking his head, the captain laughed slightly. "Every manjack aboard this ship has tried to get close to her and she won't have any of them, and you were asked by her."
Jherek didn't see what that had to do with anything so he kept quiet.
"No," the captain said. "You go on to eveningfeast and have a good time, but I won't suffer to see that young woman hurt in any way."
"No, sir. Not by me."
"Prepare yourself for a treat. Sabyna is a good cook."
Dismissed, Jherek walked away, but he couldn't help wondering how the captain knew.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
"Water, please," Jherek replied, fidgeting.
"I've got a meager selection of wines," Sabyna offered.
"Water will be fine."
He stood just inside her doorway and gazed around at the tiny room that was her personal quarters. A small bookshelf covered one wall, fill
ed with tomes and knickknacks that he felt were more personal items than magical ones. A miniature fold-out desk was built into another wall and pigeonholes held correspondence, files, and paper. At the moment, the desk doubled as a dining table. The chair was on one side of it instead of in front of it, and the bed was within reach of the desk on the other.
"Water it is. Have a seat," Sabyna invited.
She worked over a large food tray sitting on the floor. Dressed in breeches and a sleeveless yellow blouse, she looked more feminine than ever, and she smelled of lilacs.
Jherek took one look at the neatly made bed and felt as out of place as he'd ever felt before. He wore a long sleeved shirt to hide the tattoo, and his best breeches.
"Thanks," he said, and took the chair.
"Do you like spicy food?" she asked, removing covers from dishes on a tray she'd brought from the galley.
"Aye," he answered politely.
Food was food, and it got a man from one meal to the next. Madame litaar's dishes, made from the vegetables and fruits from her garden, had always been particularly pleasant, though.
"I got some of these recipes from another ship's mage who'd traveled to Maztica. Spices are part of the prime ingredients to any meal prepared there, she told me."
"It smells good."
"Thank you." Sabyna served out, putting portions of the different dishes onto plates and placing the plates on the desk. "Have you ever had Maztican food?"
"No."
"Then be careful."
Tense because of the closeness forced by the size of the room, Jherek followed her lead, taking a flat, thin piece of bread and mixing some of the vegetables she'd prepared with a cheese concoction. He wrapped it all in the bread then ate. He was surprised at how hot it was, but after the curry Hagagne and some of the others used aboard Butterfly he found it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. A sailor's palate wasn't a cultured thing, but it was sturdy enough.