Slave of the Sea (The Chronicles of Salt and Blood Book 1)

by Dawn Dagger

  His silver eyes suddenly grew very sad. “I… would never be accepted. My bloodline is seen as… tainted, by them.”

  Levanine was unsure how a bloodline could be tainted, but she did understand that his family caused him distress. She gently patted his shoulder as Quinn might have to her.

  “I… I am on the sea so… maybe one day… maybe one day you can go to an academy.”

  Rakifi gave her a grateful, unconvincing smile, then turned back to the ocean. “So, you are liking living on the ship?”

  She nodded and they began to chat quietly, about Braxton’s food and how different ship rules worked and what they might do once they reached Avondella. After it was apparent that there would be no fish they hoisted the net up and put it away.

  As the warm day led on it was rather uneventful. They ate lunch, Levanine helped sew torn trousers with her trembling fingers, washed laundry and watched the Captain duel some of the men (not to the death, this time, to her great relief), listened to Quinn tell a tale over dinner, then prepared for bed.

  However, as the night closed in and the stars twinkled bright in the silky sky, Levanine found she could not sleep. So, she snuck out of bed without disturbing the Captain, wrapped in her cloak around her shoulders, and crept out of the cabin and into the cool night.

  It was dark out on the deck, the silvery reflections in the water. Stars were tossed across the sky, and one of the moons were full, and the second was a silver in the silk expanse of sky. Levanine realized that soon the third moon would be visible, and then it would be nearly summer in Harothway.

  Was she sad, that it would be summer and she was not there to experience it?

  Levanine could not understand the strange feeling in her chest as she walked along the desk. The sails flapped quietly, and she wandered by silver light alone.

  Levanine walked to the side of the ship and leaned against it, letting her fingers brush the surface of the cool water. The reflections of the stars rippled beneath her fingertips.

  She knew none of the constellations and was sadder yet. She missed the constellation of Odobenus, the great bear whose summer paws cupped either side of the world. Odobenus had been her friend on many a lonely, hot night in the vineyards.

  She hissed suddenly as pain scraped her fingers. Levanine lifted her hand to see blood trickling down her hand. She peeked over the side of the ship, peering into the inky waters to see what had hurt her. As the water lapped against the side of the ship she noticed there was a group of barnacles clinging to the side of the ship.

  She was surprised by the sight, because there had not been barnacles on the ship before, but then decided that part of the sea must have a greater amount than the poisonous waters around Dreanis.

  Levanine wiped the blood on her shirt then turned around, and leaning back against the side of the ship. She stared up at the empty crow’s nest. She wondered what it would be like to stand all the way up there, high in the sky.

  Would it feel like flying? Would she be able to touch the stars? Could she whisper into their ears and ask them to show her a new constellation to befriend?

  She wandered over to the mast where the crow’s nest was perched, her mind churning slowly. She stared up at the top of the mast until she grew dizzy, then decided she really truly wanted to see what it was like up there.

  Levanine crossed over to the net that was attached to both the crow’s nest and the ground, then placed her shaky hands on the rough rope. A bile that tasted of fear jumped up her throat and she stopped breathing for a second.

  Levanine gripped the rope so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She shrugged her cloak off and let it fall to the ground, then placed one boot on the lower ropes, hoisting herself up in one motion. She clung frightfully to the ropes as they swayed, choking down a shout, then locked her eyes on the crow’s nest.

  She was going to get up there. She would be strong.

  She pulled herself up, slowly at first, unsteadily on the swaying ropes, then faster, her goal in sight. Her muscles burned and her hands ached as they scraped against the rough rope and her own weight weighed upon her arms. Her hands bled.

  Levanine was beyond halfway up when the wind suddenly picked up, blowing her hair in her face. She spat angrily, blindly attempting to climb as the strands obstructed her vision. She gripped the ropes tighter and used one hand to claw the hair away from her face. As she threw it behind her head another gust of wind blew past, this one pushing her so hard she lost her footing!

  Levanine screamed in surprise as the weight of her body fell, saved only by her arm. She reached and clung to the ropes, her legs kicking as the wind tossed her like a hanging rope, her shoulder burning. Her eyes stung and Levanine was afraid that she was going to die.

  The wind suddenly died down and Levanine flung herself tighter against the ropes, her feet shoved too far forward on the bending rung. She shook, tasting vomit. She suddenly felt as if it might be a very good idea to go back down and go to bed.

  As she looked down she held her breath with fright. She was practically soaring above the deck. If she fell, she would die. Levanine was too frightened to descend, so she closed her eyes and began climbing upwards again. Maybe the Captain would save her in the morning. She could live in the crow’s nest.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid. She chided herself as she shivered, peeking just past her long lashes. You should never have thought you could do this… stupid, stupid… Tears pricked and fell off of the corner of her eyes as the wind stung them.

  Suddenly, the railing of the crow’s nest was at her hands, within reach. Levanine reached and tried to grab the railing, but her fingertips just brushed the wood. She could not grab it as the ropes continued to sway in the wind. Levanine steeled herself, holding her breath, then leapt for the railing.

  She fell against the railing and grabbed it close, hefting her legs over the side and rolling so she landed on her back hard on the floor of the crow’s nest. Levanine panted, staring at the sky above as it swirled. Her muscles burned like there was a fire in her blood.

  She had made it.

  The sudden realization that Levanine had made it to the top of the crow’s nest made her leap to her feet with a shout of joy. She had made it! She had done it!

  As Levanine caught sight of the ship’s deck far, far below her stomach churned and she sat down hard. She had done it. Now… she would stay here for a while, she thought.

  Levanine threw herself backwards to lie on the boards again, staring in awe at the stars above. They seemed so much closer that she was almost convinced that if she reached up, she could touch them. The moons seemed to smile at her.

  Levanine let her eyes close as she tried to steady her breathing, her heart slowing. She had done something. It hurt like nothing else, her hands were still trickling blood, but she had done it.

  Something shifted and Levanine suddenly sat up, her heart pounding in her ears. The sails below her flapped. The small flag above her twisted and turned in the wind. Far, far below the sea lapped against the wood of the ship. Had she imagined the sound?

  No, no, no she hadn't. She could feel someone watching her.

  It wasn’t the bird.

  Levanine twisted around and was suddenly facing a trouser. She looked upwards and felt her heart drop, staring at the dark eye glaring down at her. Quiller scowled, his marred face twisting, shifting the bandage over his damaged eye.

  “I was hopin’ ye’d fall ‘n die.” He growled.

  Levanine scooted backwards from his tall figure until her back hit the railing of the crow’s nest. “Wh-what are you doing up here?” She stammered. She felt very sick, curse her twisting stomach.

  “I co’ld ask the same o’ ya, whore.” He turned away and stared across the waters far below.

  Levanine had no explanation for why she was in the crow’s nest. She could not form words that could explain why she felt the need to climb into the ship’s highest points in the middle of the
night. So she did not speak.

  He did not speak either, so they existed in tense silence, Levanine breathing rapidly, her mind churning uselessly to find an escape. Eventually, Quiller pointed at something in the distance. “Look at that, whore.”

  Levanine did not move. She would not fall prey to such a trick.

  “’m serious, come look. Itsaa whale.” His voice was tired and dull, but not dangerous. He did not seem like he was plotting anything. And Levanine truly wanted to see a whale. She knew it was a horrible idea, but she slowly rose to her feet and stood a few feet off to his side, staring out into the dark waters.

  A back slipped up out of the water, outlined in heavy silver, then suddenly the thing twisting, a huge flipper cutting through the air and slapping into the frothy water. Levanine stared in astonishment. It was beautiful.

  A low, musical wail sang through the air and Levanine sighed with awe, leaning forward to rest against the railing of the crow’s nest.

  “Beautiful, ya?”

  “Yeah…” I saw a whale! Another flipped splashed out of the silky water and disappeared, singing a similar song. Levanine found herself grinning. “Thank you…” She whispered, not quite directed to the one-eyed man nor to the whales. She had no other words, so her soul spoke into the night.

  The man’s hand suddenly gripped her shoulder and she jolted in surprise, twisting to try and dislodge his hand, but failing. “I can help ya g’t down.” He said calmly, turning her so her back was to the railing.

  “You can?” She asked hopefully, her eyes wide. She would love to be on the ground again.

  “Easily.” Suddenly his palms shoved into her shoulders and Levanine let out a shriek as she was suddenly falling, twisting, turning, pummeling down through the air toward the deck rushing up at her. She closed her eyes as she hit the deck, but never felt the impact.

  Levanine jolted awake, screaming. It only took a second for her to realize she was once more in the Captain’s bed. Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the cabin in green. Levanine leapt out of bed. Had it all been a bad dream?

  No, there was no way…

  But how was she...?

  Levanine darted out of the cabin and onto the bustling deck, looking around wildly. Nothing seemed disturbed. No one seemed to notice her on the deck. She looked down at her hands. They were shredded and red and scabbed. Rope wounds.

  Finally her eyes fell upon the green-grey cloak lying at the bottom of the net of ropes, the corner flapping in the soft breezes passing through.

  It was there. Her cloak.

  But how?

  Levanine walked over to the cloak and picked it up, swinging it around her shoulders and ducking back towards the cabin. It didn’t matter how. It wouldn’t happen ever again.

  Chapter 15

  “Did you see the whales the other night, by any chance?” Rakifi made conversation with Eldred as Levanine gripped the dagger tightly in her hand, swinging at the makeshift dummy tied to the mast as Quinn had showed her. He stood nearby, burly arms crossed, watching her through half-closed lids.

  She was angry.

  Levanine had not been able to figure out in days how she had fallen from the crow’s nest and been unharmed, and Quiller had existed only in shadows so she could not confront him.

  Levanine was angry and had decided that she was not going to be caught unawares anymore. She could take care of herself. She was going to train hard, and never be tricked again. She would never have to be saved by Saints or magics or whatever had saved her from death.

  Levanine was angry because she had been tricked. Angry because she could not understand why she was alive. Angry because she was hungry. Angry because her cuts into the cloth of the dummy where not clean. They were jagged and off kilter, all because of her-

  “Damn hand!” She shouted finally, throwing the dagger down in frustration. It bounced across the deck and came to a spinning halt at the Captain’s boots. Eldred and Rakifi went silent, staring at her. Quinn looked annoyed.

  The Captain reached down and picked up the dagger delicately between two fingers, rolled it across his palms, then threw it. The silver blade spun past her, then embedded itself deep into the mast beside her. Levanine swallowed, then waited for instruction. His jaw had tightened in a way that meant he was going to speak.

  He was going to tell her to try again, and Quinn was going to push her harder. It was plainly predictable. She was already reaching for the dagger in her mind when he spoke.

  “Get the dagger and help Kasha pick off the barnacles.”

  Levanine was surprised, but did not protest. She jerked the dagger from the wood and crossed over to the side of the ship opposite Kasha, then leaned over. She stuck the sharp tip of the blade under the side of the barnacle, then began to edge it up under the rock-looking pest. After the knife was halfway under, she flicked her wrist to peel it off.

  Her hands continued to tremble as she worked, causing her to scrape her knuckles. Blood trickled into the water as she worked, and she grew more cross with every stupid living rock that sliced her open.

  The salt water stung in her open wounds and the sun beat down on Levanine, leaving her feeling hot and uncomfortable and even more angry. As she peeled some of the strange creatures off, she noticed that they left small, smooth rivets in the side of the ship, as if they had nested down into the wood.

  Disgusting little creatures. Levanine truly despised the things like she had hated nothing else, because their odd look made her feel sick to her stomach. They were like weathered rocks, but in their center were strange beaks and teeth and rings of holes that caused her stomach to churn uncomfortably. Her hands really did sting.

  Levanine’s stomach growled and she clenched it with her free hand, wincing slightly. Oh, how she wished the stupid fish would come into the nets and be caught so they could eat. Stupid fish. Stupid ocean. Stupid hunger.

  Stupid everything.

  “Levanine!” The Captain called. She looked up, then stood straight and gave him a salute, her face burning from anger and the sun. “Pass the knife to Norrin and get cleaned up. Help Braxton make lunch.”

  Levanine gladly handed the knife over to the man, even if she was annoyed that she had to go help with lunch. She hated doing the dishes. Braxton had a tough time washing the dishes due to his large hands, and he found Levanine’s smaller, shaky ones to be of good use.

  Levanine was thankful for the cool underbelly of the below decks as she descended the stairs. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and eyes and pushed her hair behind her ears, then stepped into the kitchens. Braxton turned to her and gave her a sheepish smile. She kept a good distance from him. She was not going to be hurt again. By anyone.

  “Come a-lookin’ for food, aye?”

  “No,” she shook her head. “The Captain asked me to help you.”

  Braxton wandered in a circle for a moment before finally shrugging with his large shoulders. “No much t’ make. We either need t’ fish up food or make a stop, but… we’re next t’ nothin’. Maybe… you were a maid? Could ya look at what we got?”

  Levanine shrugged in return, knowing she would not be able to be very creative. Braxton stepped aside and she slipped deeper into the kitchen, peeking into the barrels. She had to tiptoe and look far down into the bottom of the barrels to see its contents. They had a barrel of bones, a few dried onions and garlic bulbs, a barrel of random flakes of green, and only a bit of hardtack.

  “Ah…” She mumbled, at a loss. Her stomach was growling, but she tried to ignore it. There was little substantial food for them. She sighed and shrugged. “We can make bone and hardtack soup. Bones have a lot of vitamins…”

  Braxton looked sorely disappointed and Levanine looked away from him, feeling shameful she could not give him better news. “Figured.” He waved her to the other side of the kitchen and began to mess around with a large kettle and the bones. “Don’t need ya help, then.” He glanced at her red
hands. “Mebbe getcha bandaged?”

  She nodded and turned away, wishing she was a little more than useless. She stood at the bottom of the staircase to the deck, thinking about anyone she could possibly help with.

  “AHHHH!” A shriek of pain suddenly shattered the air.

  Levanine ran up the stairs and onto the deck as fast possible as shouting sounded. She was momentarily blinded by sunlight, but when her eyes adjusted, blood was everywhere.

  Norrin was holding his arm in the air, but where his hand had been was a fountain of red that stained his face and the deck, and a barnacle that seemed to move down his arm, leaving torn flesh in its path.

  Norrin continued to scream in agony while the crew stared, then Eldred and Awla rushed forward. Norrin was on his knees, holding his arm with his other hand, staring at the crimson bubbling and pouring from him, his mouth stuck open in an unending shriek.

  “Awla, get it off him!” The Captain roared.

  Awla grabbed the rock with both hands and pulled, but it did nothing. Awla grabbed the dagger, now on the ground, rose it, and slammed it down against Norrin’s flesh. There was a sick crack and Norrin’s scream became a stuttering, guttural sound. Awla continued to stab through Norrin’s arm until it fell off, along with the barnacle. Eldred rushed forward, and in a flurry of movement, began to wrap Norrin’s arm as he writhed on the ground. Awla grabbed the flesh sticking out of the barnacle’s front and tossed the whole thing into ocean as hard as he could.

  Levanine was frozen as Norrin’s shouts turned to whimpers and Eldred finished bandaging his stump of an arm. Silva turned and was sick over the side of the ship. Levanine felt sick herself.

  “What the hell was that?!” Alwa demanded, his hairy face turning a red hue that matched Norrin’s blood. “Captain, what was that?!”

  The men began to murmur and shift, all looking pale. Rakifi joined Eldred in kneeling beside the black haired man, who was bleeding out of the bandages. Braxton was standing behind her and she took a few steps forward so he could stand on the deck.