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

by Dawn Dagger

  She could not hear the rest of what they said as she gagged into the dirty wood, but suddenly the Bartender was sauntering away, and she was left with the woman. The wench crouched down and lifted her, then pushed Levanine’s head back. Her brown hair fell in front of her eyes, but through her blurring vision she could see the woman glaring at her.

  “If the Captain dies I will make sure you die.” She growled, then suddenly pressed something warm and circular into her palm. “I don’t care how you do it, but get that to a woman named Ruby. The Captain will know. Don’t dare fail me.”

  The woman stood suddenly and turned away, leaving Levanine sitting on the floor of the tavern. Her eyes slowly rolled down to see a carved coin pressed firmly into her palm. She shakily slid the coin into her satchel. It took her a long second to feel as if she had enough breath, but she eventually turned her torso and pressed against the bar, forcing herself to her feet shakily. She clenched her teeth against the urge to vomit.

  Levanine did not feel the need to hurry now. Maybe it was because she believed she was already too late, or perhaps it was because her head was pounding so badly she barely understood her own name.

  Levanine leaned heavily against the bar and began to shuffle her way out around it. The door to the tavern suddenly flung open and Quinn ran in, Silva, at his heels. “Levanine, are you okay?” He asked, putting a hand on her arm. Levanine still could not speak, so she weakly pointed to the bowl of tea.

  The world spun suddenly and Quinn had her in his arms, cradled against his hard chest. Silva picked up the bowl of tea and Quinn carried her out of the bar and into the outside. The fresh air burned against her forehead and the sun was so bright she had to close her eyes. They bounced down the hill onto the beach and Quinn gently deposited her beside the mangled form of the Captain.

  Rakifi was crouched beside him in the sand, tightly holding his hand. Silva set the bowl carefully down into the sand and Quinn helped Levanine sit up.

  “What are you going to do with the… tea?” He asked. His voice was hoarse but his tone was oddly defeated, as if he could not understand quite how a hot concoction of flower petals and freshwater could help.

  “Tilt his head up,” she whispered shakily. Quinn obliged and hooked his arms under Guy’s armpits, forcing him to sit. “Silva, put the bowl… the bowl against…” Her mouth felt far too thick and heavy, and blood still filled it. Her fat lips would not form words and she hated herself.

  Rakifi leaned forward and gently pressed the Captain’s dark blue lips apart and guided Silva to splash some of the hot tea into his mouth. Rakifi rested his fingers against his adam’s apple and massaged in a circular motion until his dying body responded and he swallowed the healing tea.

  “All.” Levanine mumbled. The world was swirling again, but she did not let herself keel over.

  Silva and Rakifi repeated their motions until Captain Guy had managed to drink all of the liquid, working silently as a team. Rakifi handed her the bowl and she saw there was just a small bit of tea left. She tipped it clumsily to her lips and hoped some of it had hit her tongue as it dripped down her chin. The sun was burning hot and sweat drenched her body.

  Quinn moved to cradle Guy’s head in his lap like he might a sick boy and stroked his sweat-soaked raven locks. “How long will it take to work? What will it do?” He asked, his voice almost desperate.

  “Asha-Can.” She whispered, feeling her lids grow heavy as pain pulsed through her. Silva moved to sit beside her, using one arm to hold her up. “They seep… into body...” She broke off into a bout of coughing that made her feel as if cannons were going off inside of her skull.

  Quinn nodded, obviously not understanding, but not pressing for more. The great wooden wolf crept over and lie down in the sand about a stone’s throw away, causing Silva to tense. It observed everything with large eyes before beginning to lick at the amber that still seeped out around the broken blade in its chest. Levanine’s gaze wandered from Guy’s stone face to other things slowly stirring in the hot day, the sun burning her eyes.

  Moskuna hammered at the ship, which was almost done. The sound hurt her, but she had no power to make it stop. As he moved the emerald shard hanging against his bare chest caught and threw the sun’s rays in random bursts of bright green. Some sailors carried crates and barrels toward the ship, while others lay on the sand and rubbed their foreheads, still hungover. No one saw the procession of death or the great wooden wolf in the distance, just a couple hundred yards up the sand.

  Guy suddenly wretched and gagged, his body jerking. Quinn set him up and the Captain threw up a sudden vomit made of blood and bile. He continued to vomit, a dark red that seeped into the sand and stained it in a slowly growing pool. Levanine was worried he might suffocate himself, as the vomiting went on and his face began to turn as porcelain.

  And, as suddenly as he had started, he stopped, slumping backwards against Quinn. He panted heavily, sweat rolling down his face and blood trickling down his chin.

  Lying atop the dark red sand was a hunk of broken bone, curved in a way that was recognizable. Quinn blinked, shocked, but refrained from commenting. Most likely because he had no words to give.

  Captain Guy slowly opened his eyes, groaning. His blue orbs were unfocused and looked almost scared. He reached up and weakly rubbed his eyes, letting out a small noise.

  “Welcome back.” Quinn squeezed his shoulders, jesting, though his voice was still husky.

  The Captain slumped back against him with a tired huff and fell back into unconsciousness. Despite his unconsciousness, his cheeks had turned rosy against the stark white of his flesh. Quinn moved gently beneath him and stood up, carrying him carefully.

  Quinn climbed the hill to the Healer’s hut, Rakifi standing bewildered beside the pool of blood and Silva gently supporting Levanine, helping her up the hill as well. He did not speak, and Levanine was glad. She was about to fall over, and there was no way she could form words.

  They stepped into the dully lit, cool hut and Quinn laid the Captain on the nearest cot. He grabbed a cloth out of the bowl sitting on the nightstand and wrung it out before draping it across his forehead.

  “Soon,” he mumbled, almost more to the Captain, than Levanine, “soon we’ll be off of this damn island.”

  Chapter 27

  When Guy opened his eyes his surroundings were dark and cool. Distant shouting could be heard just above the creaking and lapping of water gently caressing his ears. He sat up and grumbled at the aching pain that stretched across his chest. What had happened? The last thing he remembered was… it was all blurry. He remembered some sort of beast. He remembered Levanine and a beast.

  The island.

  Guy tensed and looked around, confused. This was a ship. He was in a ship. Had they been captured by slave traders? Other pirates? Ronarthion bounty hunters? His hands fumbled at his waist, but there were no weapons there. All he wore was a loose pair of pants and a bandage wrapped tightly around his shirtless chest. He was defenseless.

  He was going to gut Bartender. He couldn’t believe the guileless snake had enough stupidity to try and pull this on him. When he survived this, he was coming back with an armada.

  Had he been less hurt and thinking more clearly, the Captain would have realized that he wasn’t tied down, and it could not possibly be that he was captured. Few traders were quite that stupid. And perhaps maybe a bit of his brain understood that fact, but was unsure of how to convey it to his palpitating heart.

  The door of the cabin creaked open and a beam of orange light shot into the room. A figure shouldered its way in, carrying something and approaching him. “Oh!” The voice wasn’t a boom or a growl, it was a soft melody carried on a breeze off of the Lilly Sea. “Captain, please lie down.”

  His eyes adjusted in the new light and he realized this newcomer was a familiar, round face that glowed from within as if lit by an internal candle. “Levanine,” he breathed, slumping back onto the cot. His
heart was still pounding.

  “Ye, it’s me, sire.” She placed the tray on a crate beside his bed and lifted a wooden bowl to him. “Are you strong enough to drink?”

  He reached up weakly and she placed the warm bowl in his hands. He shakily took a sip of the dark, steaming liquid inside. It was tart, but pleasant going down. “We are on a ship,” he stated once he had finished, handing the empty bowl back to her.

  “Yes, Cap’n.” The statement begged explanation, so Guy rose his brow and nodded, prompting her on. “Moskuna finished the ship, we loaded it up, and we’re now out at sea. Quinn has been leading everyone, with help from Rakifi. He said Avondella is not far out now.” At the words ‘sea’ and ‘Avondella,’ his heart calmed.

  “What was that I drank?” He nodded to the tray.

  “Elder and Jessian Spice. Palae managed to figure out what all the crates from Moskuna read. Silva remembered the herbs from… ah, Eldred, and said we should make you a tea to make sure you stay healthy and strong. Of course, we plan on paying Moskuna back the full amount.”

  Guy nodded, his head starting to swirl. Cursed pain. “Make sure he gets paid… who hurt you?” His eyes were stuck suddenly on the blossoming bruise on the fair skin of Levanine’s arm. Upon examining her, he realized her face had signs of being bloodied and bruised as well. Something stirred in his stomach.

  “Hm?” She glanced at her arm, then tugged her sleeve down as her face fell uncomfortably. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

  “Who hurt you?” he repeated. He was sitting up now, his fists clenched. Pain hissed through his teeth, but he was burning with fury.

  “U-um, I needed to make you a tea of Asha-Can, and um… I was told I was not allowed to, uh, use the kitchens in the tavern, and I did, and I told him we wouldn’t pay him anymore and he tried...” Her lip trembled and her teeth gently clipped it as her hand fiddled with something in the satchel at her waist.

  “I’m going to kill him!” Guy roared, attempting to climb out of the bed, ignoring how his treacherous eyes went black. Pain exploded through his body but he did not care.

  “Lie down!” Levanine gasped, fluttering her hands at him. “Stop! I’m alright! Just lie down, please!”

  Guy grumbled and obeyed, his face flushed with heat. He realized hurting himself on a ship would not get him any closer to the rat. “I will send that rot a chest of the deadliest snakes in Kethaltar,” his voice was a growl. He was going to gut the man and string his innards through the thorny woods, so the birds would peck at them while he still lived.

  Levanine hugged herself lightly, still yet avoiding his eyes. “I apologize, Cap’n.”

  “Apologize? What for?” He asked, raising a brow in surprise, turning his full attention to her. She had nothing to apologize for.

  “I failed to retrieve my dagger and I got pinned by… that man. I almost could not save your life, sir…” Her eyes were shiny in the sideways light from the doorway. Was she going to cry? “I was foolish and we both almost died because of it.”

  Guy reached a hand out and laid on hers, and she flinched. He felt a sharp, sideways stab into his heart. “Levanine…”

  “I’m sorry…” Her voice broke and a single crystal, a line of cut diamond, streaked down her cheek.

  Guy squeezed her hands tightly, pulling her closer so she had to look at him. He tried to keep his movements light despite the fire clenching his muscles. “You have done very well. I am alive. You are alive and acted bravely. You even gave your beauty for our sake. You are a good, loyal pirate, and I am fortunate to have you on my crew.”

  It was easier to speak gentle words to her than he thought it might be. Was it just because she was a girl, or was it because she was so vulnerable?

  “It’s going to be harder to look like your mistress,” she argued pitifully.

  “That can be easily corrected!” he insisted. “Avondellaen women are now cutting their hair short, I’m sure you won’t be too misplaced. If it all goes wrong, we can even buy you a wig.”

  Levanine sniffled and pulled away, rubbing at her eyes, which had freshly filled with tears. She nodded weakly. She opened her mouth to apologize, but he squeezed her hands again. “You are alright, Levanine. Tears are the rain that created the oceans.”

  “Hm?” She mumbled, blinking the last of her tears from her bloodshot eyes.

  “The Tale of Sea, have you never heard of it?”

  “No, Cap’n.” She shook her head.

  “I’m too tired to tell you right now. Come back later and I’ll tell you.”

  Levanine nodded and and stood. She grabbed the tray and set a mug of water in its place. “Rest now, we will be to Avondella soon.”

  She walked out and shut the door softly behind her, cutting off the now painful rays of light. Guy slumped on his cot, sighing softly under his breath. Soon, soon…

  Raven hair danced behind his eyes, green eyes sparkling, hands fluttering, pale white in the chandelier candlelight, not unlike ivory reflecting the light of the stars. Oh, what beauties waited for mortal eyes on the shores of Avondella.

  Fishermen heaving nets of rainbow colored fish, markets selling all sorts of clothes and spices, women in gorgeous gowns, children chasing after friendly dogs and one another, a perfect blue sea, flowering gardens, sun shining off of the sand and cobble stones, and oh! the smell of fresh air. His rich mansion.

  Guy turned on his side and his eyes slid closed to the swaying of the ship, the same swaying of two individuals dancing together, islands in a storm of color, two smiles, two alike beating hearts.

  He fell into sleep dreaming of dancing.

  Levanine brought him breakfast in the morning. Small chunks of pork in a watery, butter-flavored gruel, and another mug of the healing tea. He was famished, and spooned down the gruel faster than he had eaten anything in his life.

  Levanine chuckled at him, but tried to hide it behind the back of her hand. He glared at her out of the corner of his eye as he wiped the gruel off of his face with the back of his hand and then licked it off. “What?” he demanded. He could feel the corners of his lips tugging upwards against his will.

  She seemed to understand he was jesting, so she smiled a little. She reached for the bowl in his hands expectantly. “There is more, sire.”

  “Go get some more for me, if that is the case!” He couldn’t keep his own laughter out of his voice.

  “Aye, aye!” She soon returned with another serving. She plopped down on a stool beside his bed and watched him finish the bowl with a little more self control than he had the first go.

  “Why are you still in here?” He growled playfully, setting the bowl down beside his bed.

  “You have a story to tell me, Cap’n.” It was nice to see her confident, smiling, happy. He knew this would not last too long, but it was a good omen. He was unsure what had caused it.

  “Do I now?” He folded his arms behind his head and leaned back, staring at the wooden ceiling. “I do, I did say I might. The Tale of the Sea.” He glanced out of the corner of his half closed eyes and smirked as she leaned forward to rest her chin on her hands and her elbows on her knees.

  “You’re sure your Rakifi has not told you already?”

  “Quite sure, Captain.”

  “Back when the world was first created, there was no water. It was a globe of earth, but an earth unlike the one we have. All animals that did not walk flew. The air was always cluttered with birds and lizards with wings, and so many other strange things. The magic that had been placed on Kethaltar hardly survived. Tree nymphs dominated the landscape and they tried to rule over all the other creatures. They attempted to subdue the fairy-kind, and the sprites. Elves believed they were the most powerful and warred with the nymphs. And man, yes, us foolish men, tried to war with both.

  “The Great King was angered by the violence of his world, but had made a pact to let his beings do what they pleased. They had thought and choice. He could not interfere. His lady
was distressed by the pain, and the anger of her husband. She begged him to do something, but he told her of his promise.

  “So Lady Kethaltar wept. And as she wept, her salt-filled tears splashed onto the world. They filled up canyons and crevices. They washed out all of the warring leaders. The world was now different, a world filled with the ocean.

  “Some of Kethaltar’s wood nymphs changed into sea nymphs. Some of the elves decided to live in this new area, and they became the mercreatures. And man decided they would use the sea to survive. Tears created the sea, and created peace.”

  Levanine nodded, smiling. “I hope to meet an elf one day.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Will there be elves in Avondella?”

  Guy stopped for a moment, trying to remember days. The day, the days of holidays, balls, and the frequency in which elves left their land. “Maybe…” He said slowly. “They might in Avondella at the ball.”

  Levanine stared at him with wide, sparkling eyes. “Elves will be at the ball?” She whispered in disbelief.

  “Perhaps. Go ask Quinn, he will know for absolute certain.”

  “Aye, Captain!” Levanine dashed out of the room, calling Quinn’s name excitedly.

  Guy chuckled at her, shaking his head. He would have to guarantee that she would see an elf at that ball. But, for the moment, he was going to rest, and think about a certain beautiful woman that he was guaranteed to see at that ball.

  Guy healed faster than he knew he should of, and for that he was very thankful. He ate like a manatee, but it was better than being bedridden for weeks. After only a few stormy days, not even Quinn’s protesting could keep the Captain in bed.

  He strode across the clean deck of the small ship, breathing in the salty air and relishing the feeling of the sun’s rays seeping into his skin. He had a small limp from hurting his leg as well in his battle with the wooden wolf, and from his disuse of them, but it was negligible.

  The remaining few of his crew were working on the small sloop, scrubbing the decks, typing up sails, washing clothing. They called to each other like gulls. Everyone was suspiciously pleasant.