Fortissima
Page 25
I nod my head, take my leave, and turn to walk back to my room. On the way, I pretend to shield my eyes from the sun with my scarf. But it’s really to hide the tears I can’t stop from falling.
By the time we gather for dinner several hours later, I’ve managed to cheer up a bit by telling myself that perhaps no news is good news. Surely if something terrible were happening, somebody would have been able to send word of it. I’ve got to keep trusting that all is well. Besides, there’s nothing I can do from here anyway.
Even so, I can’t help but to double-check. “You’re positive nobody passed one of your crew a note, perhaps?” I ask Stone, who is sitting directly across from me at our table.
He shakes his head. “No, m’lady. My crew have been ordered that if they are passed correspondence of any kind, they are to bring it to me for safekeeping. I’ve no reason to believe they wouldn’t do so.”
“I’m sure they would. They are good men and boys.”
“That they are.”
“Is there any other news from Nadir? Does all seem well?”
Stone hesitates. He takes a bite of his fish curry before answering. Chewing slowly, he carefully considers his response. “All does seem well. Although, to be frank, I’m not so sure it is.”
“What do you mean?” The dishes our cooks have prepared are some of the best I’ve ever had, especially with our fresh supply of ingredients. But my appetite is quickly vanishing.
“Well. The King—the elder Araroa, I mean—seems to be business as usual, outside of the shipping restrictions, that is. Other than that, he doesn’t appear to be acknowledging your coming into rule here on Nuimana. But word is spreading. Some people don’t believe it, not at all. Others think ye should never have done what you’ve done … and there are still others who seem invigorated by the news … I’m sorry—I shouldn’t—” Stone halts his report and looks down at his bowl of food.
“No, please go on, Captain. You won’t offend me. I want to know what’s happening.”
He peers up at me. “You sure?”
“Positively.”
“Okay, m’lady. As I was saying, there’s a growing number who are talking of revolution should ye return to Nadir and attempt to overthrow the elder King. Many are supportive. But there are a lot of people who swear they’ll defend Araroa.”
I nearly spit out my curry at this. “But that’s absurd! I have no plans to do any such thing!”
“Of course not, m’lady. I was just reporting the talk …”
I grab for Leif’s hand under the table and clutch it. I’ve no doubt he can feel the quaking. Eventually, his strength steadies my own, and I’m able to respond calmly. “Thank you, Captain Stone. This is all very interesting. But should you have the opportunity, please do tell anyone you encounter that I’ve no plans to leave Nuimana. I am quite happy here, doing what I can to help my … my people.”
Leif squeezes my hand. “What about an after-dinner spirit?” He smiles at everyone around the table. Our bowls have been cleared; the servers are about to bring in dessert. “I saw some crates I recognized—I bet there’s something nice for us to enjoy in one of them.” Everyone agrees, and Leif leaves for the storeroom to find a bottle to crack open.
While he’s away, we return to small talk, which I am glad to do. I’ve just tucked into my fruit cobbler when Leif returns. He stops in the doorway.
His normally tan face is bone white, and he’s holding a piece of paper in one hand.
“It’s from Papa,” he says hoarsely. His voice is tinged with an unfamiliar waver. “It says if I’ve received this note, that means he’s been arrested. My father’s been imprisoned by Araroa.”
I stand and walk over to Leif. He grips my arm tightly. I have to steady the both of us.
“Can I read it?” I whisper. He nods silently, handing me the paper.
My Dear Leif,
If you are reading these words, I am so very sorry. It is February as I write this down, words I hope you never read. I plan to hide this letter in a crate of my spirits bound for Nuimana this spring. If I were able, I’d have removed this letter and destroyed it. But since you are reading this, you know I was not able to do so. And that means only one terrible thing.
I fear for my safety here in the Bastion—as we all do. I would leave and go into hiding, but my health has not been all that well lately, and I must stay for now. Business remains good, so there is that. But King Araroa has been rounding those up, one by one, that he feels might be a danger to his rule. We do not speak of this, although we all know it’s happening.
So I will stay, but I do not know what will happen to me. I suppose my message is this: if you are reading this, you can be assured that all is not well. I love you, my boy.
—Papa
I look up from the letter to Leif. His eyes are moist, his jaw set hard. I grab him in my arms, and we clutch each other. Tightly. Nobody else in the room has said a word.
There is a tap on my shoulder; I turn to find Sufa standing behind me. I look at Leif and he nods. I hand Sufa the letter so he can read it too. His face falls when he reaches the end.
“This is not very good news,” he says.
“No, most definitely not,” Leif replies. I can tell he’s choking back tears, trying to get ahold of himself.
Sufa pats Leif on the arm. “But at the same time, we cannot assume the worst. Perhaps your father was not able to retrieve the letter before the crate was sent.”
Leif shakes his head. “No, Papa would never have allowed that. He would have gotten to it. Something’s happened to him. And I wouldn’t doubt that Araroa was behind it.”
“What are we going to do?” I can barely speak the words. This is truly terrible news. Of all people, I owe such a debt of gratitude to Nile. He was the one most instrumental in helping me escape from Nadir. But much more than that, I know how close Leif and his papa are.
“Come, sit down,” Sufa says. “Let us talk.”
When we’re all seated again, we leave the remainder of our desserts untouched. But Marina has signaled to the servers to refill all the wineglasses. Each of us takes a good, long sip.
Sufa folds his hands and sits up straighter. “Now,” he begins. “We must look at each of our options. First, we could try to get more information from Nadir. Perhaps, as I said, your father was simply held up for some reason. Not in danger. Not in … prison.” My heart leaps into my throat as Sufa says aloud the words I most feared. And then I know it’s true: Nile has been arrested. He could be in the very same cell where they held me—or Tui or Queen Seraphine. Before she was executed.
“We don’t have that much time,” I say. “I have to assume the worst. The consequences of not doing so, well, they are far too great.”
“True, true,” Sufa agrees.
“I’ve got to go back,” Leif says. His voice is clear and sure.
Still, I can’t believe what he’s just said. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is, I’ve got to go back to Nadir and free my father. Or at the very least make sure he is safe. When does your ship leave, Captain Stone?”
The captain sets down his nearly empty wineglass. “We depart at dawn. Not long,” he replies.
I’m speechless. I can only stare at Leif. His mouth is set in a hard line, and he does not return my gaze.
“Can you spare room for another deckhand?” Leif asks.
Stone nods. “Sure can, mate. Plenty of room. We’ve got to stop first at the Eastern Cays, but then we’ll be returning to Nadir for the next round. King Araroa willing, that is.” He winks. “Or even if he’s not.”
“I’ll be ready at the dock.” It is then he looks over at me.
I am not smiling. “I’m going with you.”
“No, Raven, you can’t. You’ve got to stay here. It’s far too dangerous for you to return to Nadir now. There’s too much uncertainty. I’m going to make sure Papa is safe, then I’ll return. I’ll only be away for a few months, I promise.”
&n
bsp; “But—” I start to protest.
Sufa interrupts. “Your friend Leif is correct, dear Raven. You are most safe here for now. We need your help anyway. There’s so much for you to learn. Leif can return with his papa, and all will be well here on Nuimana.”
I can only shake my head. I can’t let Leif go. I can’t.
But I know they are right. I have to.
I lay my head on Leif’s shoulder, letting my tears fall down the front of his shirt. He puts his arm around me, helps me up, and leads me back to my room.
Leif kisses me goodbye the next morning in darkness. We’ve held each other close the entire night. I so want to believe his promise that he’ll be back in only a few months’ time. But deep inside, I don’t.
I ask him if he’s got my old knife, the one Papa carved and gave to me years ago. The one I carried all the way from Baldachin to Nuimana. He says he does, won’t let it out of his sight, and will return it safely to me. I desperately hope he doesn’t need to use it.
I can’t bear to go down to the dock to see him off, and he’s fine with that. When Leif’s gone, I lie in bed watching the dawn light grow brighter. Then I panic. I jump out of bed and rush over to my open verandah doors. The ship is already out of sight, sailed over the horizon with the love of my life aboard it.
I can’t believe that Leif is gone.
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Acknowledgments
This book was conceived—as so many ideas are—in a car. Listening to Iron & Wine’s song Woman King, Raven Araroa and Leif Phineas appeared in my head and refused to leave. I wrote some words down and tried to ignore them. It didn’t work; their story wanted to be told and so I kept at it.
Still, this story never would have happened without the cast of characters in my own life, and I owe each of them a million thank-yous. Firstly, to my husband Michael: for helping me find the time and space to get the words down; for being my first reader and telling me he loved it; for encouraging me to keep going when I had convinced myself to give up. To my daughter Leah: beta-reader, giver of awesome feedback, and proof-reader extraordinaire. And to my daughter Holly, who said, “I want to be a writer like you when I grow up,” which made it all real.
I owe enormous gratitude to the Robertson family—Michael, Windy, Eleanor, and Frances—for reading a (terrible) early draft and still providing invaluable feedback and encouragement.
Thank you to my editor, Sue Copsey, for helping me say what I really mean; and to Najla Qamber, for the beautiful cover.
I also am grateful for all my friends and fellow writers at the New Zealand Society of Authors, especially for welcoming this American author so warmly.
Finally, thank you, dear reader, for listening to Raven’s story.
About the Author
Sara Kingsley writes books for young adults. She was born in Seattle and is currently making Wellington, New Zealand her home. She lives with her husband, two daughters, and a cat named Mouse.
Get in touch:
www.sarakingsley.com
sara@sarakingsley.com
Contents
Preface
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
An Excerpt from Bravura
Chapter 1
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Acknowledgments
About the Author