Ocean of Dust

by Graeme Ing

  As they neared the trees, Tarba gestured left and right with his sword. "Spread out."

  A lantern shone brightly about a hundred feet into the trees. They approached it cautiously, crouching low and watching for dry twigs beneath their feet, until they came across a small clearing. They hunkered down in the undergrowth.

  Farq had the captain in a neck-hold and held a knife to his throat. Next to him, Sam, the crew chief, had Jancid's arms twisted behind his back. The white-haired sailor gritted his teeth and winced every time Sam pulled his arm.

  "Who's out there? Show yourself," Farq commanded, peering into the bushes. Four of his men closed around him, their swords and polearms raised defensively.

  Tarba stepped into the clearing, lowering his sword. "Good, you've caught them. We thought you might need help. You've been gone from the ship a long time."

  Lissa gasped.

  "I'm quite capable of rounding up a couple of old men, but I appreciate your effort." Farq’s eyes narrowed. "How did you know where to find us?"

  "The girl said the cave was nearby," Tarba said. "Let's get the prisoners to our boat."

  Lissa backed away. He'd double-crossed the captain. If she fled to the boat, was Yat in on it too? What about the navigator? She scratched her head. There was a crack as loud as a thunderclap. Oh, no. She’d stepped on a branch. Her head jerked up and Farq looked right at her. His eyes widened.

  "What's she doing here?" he cried.

  Tarba's sword flew to the offensive and he started toward Farq.

  "It's a trap," Farq shouted to his men. "Kill them all, especially that girl."

  Four men leaped toward her. She screamed. Tarba's left leg darted out and the first man tripped and fell face-first into the detritus of leaves. Then Tarba swung his sword at waist height and it crashed against the next man's chest, knocking him to the ground. Swords met and sparks flew, as both sides lunged and stabbed at each other. She continued to back away, trying to hide in the undergrowth.

  A polearm stabbed through the heart of Tarba's right-hand man. Lissa screamed as a fountain of blood erupted from his body, drenching the trees. The murderer tried to tug his weapon free but it had obviously caught in the rib cage. He grunted and let go of the long-hafted weapon, and the impaled man crumpled dead to the ground. Unfazed, the blood-soaked attacker drew a knife from his belt and continued toward her, his tongue drooping from the corner of his mouth.

  She turned to flee, then jumped when an arm reached down from a tree, right in front of her face.

  "Grab hold," Coy said from the branches above.

  She did so and he pulled her up into the tree, groaning with the effort. The man slid his knife between his teeth and climbed after her.

  "Thanks," she said, and scurried along a long branch, swinging up into a neighboring tree. "Quickly, come on."

  They both leaped into a third tree. The branch cracked under the weight of their pursuer. He plummeted to the ground, crying out when the heavy branch landed on top of him. Needing to know what was happening in the clearing, she led the way back, moving from branch to branch until they were above the fighting men. The captain lay on the ground with Farq sitting on top of him.

  "I should've killed you earlier." Farq spat in the captain's face. "Now it's time."

  He raised his knife.

  Without hesitation, she dropped from her perch and crashed on top of Farq's shoulders. Her branch sprang back up, dislodging heavy Jherodan nuts that clattered around them. She fell to one side, dragging Farq with her. He roared his frustration but she didn't stop to look. She scrambled to her feet and ran into the bushes. Only then did she glance over her shoulder to see that the captain had gotten up. He pried the sword from a dead man's hand and chased after Farq. From somewhere above, Coy whooped.

  She ran around the perimeter of the fight. Only two men remained on each side. Tarba lay slumped and panting against a tree, pressing one hand to a bloody gash in his leg.

  The huge shape of Sam strolled out of the dark undergrowth, his sword dripping with a dark liquid. Her breath caught and she scoured the trees for Jancid. Two of Tarba's men engaged Sam with a flurry of blades. Eager to help, she snatched up a fallen Jherodan nut in each hand and threw them at the giant. The first one missed, but the second hit him between his eyes. He howled and put a hand to his head.

  "Jancid?" she cried.

  "Hide you fool," the old sailor shouted from deep within the trees.

  She found him battling beside the captain, their swords clashing with Farq's. Laughing, Farq drove his knife into the captain's side. The captain grunted, glancing down at the blood oozing from the wound and staining his shirt.

  Jancid shoved the captain behind him, and launched a furious counter attack, stabbing and lunging in rapid succession, but he was no match for Farq. Jancid was driven backward, stumbling repeatedly until he crashed into a tree. Farq wasn't even breathing heavily, but Jancid's ripostes were strained and slowing. Sweat poured from his brow.

  Her mind raced. Farq was going to win, and that meant they would all die.

  Without a plan, she rushed headlong at Farq and dived for his legs, grappling him. They tumbled together into the undergrowth. His arm cracked against a stump and his knife bounced into the darkness. Her every muscle tensed, her teeth clenched, she stamped on his arm, and pushed herself up, preparing to flee. Her hand touched something cold and hard, and her heart skipped. She snatched up the fallen sword and stood in one fluid motion.

  Without thinking, she pushed the sword tip against Farq's throat.

  "Stop," she screamed, so loud that animals and birds took flight from the distant reaches of the forest.

  Farq twitched but remained prone. She steadied her shaking grip with both hands and glanced around. Everybody had frozen mid-action, staring at her, and the clearing fell very silent.

  "Everyone, throw down your weapons or Farq dies," she said. "Sam, wherever you are, please give up. It's over."

  Farq's remaining two men dropped their swords and fled, crunching away into the forest. Jancid pushed Sam forward with a sword at his back, and the captain and Coy arrived last, supporting Tarba. She studied the disheveled, bloodied men. So few had survived the battle.

  "Kill 'im, girl," Jancid growled. "Kill Farq. The honor goes to you as any of us."

  Her gaze swept from his stern face to the captain, who said nothing. Sam stood with his shoulders slumped, and wouldn't meet her eye. Coy looked as horrified as she felt. She returned her attention to Farq. A tiny bead of blood had appeared where her blade touched his neck.

  He spat at her. Spittle dribbled down her shirt.

  "You haven't the guts for it," he said.

  She set her teeth and tightened her grip on the sword hilt. One thrust, one push, and it would all be over: the fighting, Farq's anger, the beatings, the killing. All she had to do was push. Bile rose up her throat and her hands trembled.

  "See, she can't," he snarled. "Stupid, cowardly galley girl."

  "I can't do it," she said, and lowered her head.

  "Girl," the captain said quietly. "It's all right. Go back to the boat. We'll finish him off."

  She pictured Mampalo, slumped in the hallway, watching his own blood leak away. His death hadn't been as swift and painless as having his head severed. How long had he lay there, wondering what his life would have been like, getting more and more scared right up to his last breath?

  She leaned into the sword, her hands tensing, and then she stopped.

  "No." She cleared her throat and looked the captain in the eye. "There's been enough killing. No more."

  Her icy gaze held his.

  "So be it," he said. "We abandon Farq and Sam here on the island, with any of his men that still live. That's what they sentenced us to. Gather the weapons and take them to the boat. We're leaving for good."

  He gently pried the sword out of her grip.

  "There's no shame in it," he whispered, and patted her on the shoulder. "You did good, Lissa. How many
times have you saved me and my ship now?"

  Chapter 30 - Dinner with the Captain

  Lissa and Branda crossed the main deck. Both suns were low in the sky and the day had cooled to a comfortable warmth. Most of the crew had gone ashore for a night on the town in Jaleraj, the major port city of the Principality of Patraj. The few who remained bobbed their heads and greeted the girls with a smile. No dust blighted the freshly swept deck and the air smelled like drying paintwork. The ship looked cleaner and more orderly than when Lissa had first come aboard all those moon-cycles ago, or did she finally regard it as her home?

  Her green dress was cool against her skin, cinched around her waist by a turquoise sash that Cook had given her. Lissa carried her head high. The last time she had worn it, her hair had cascaded over her shoulders. Now it barely reached below her ears, though after considerable nagging from Branda, she had tidied its ragged edges. One of Mampalo's strings of beads hung around her neck. Branda wore her silver dress. They met each other's gaze and smiled. Now they were ready for dinner in the captain's cabin.

  The door hung open, and they both paused on the threshold and peered inside. It reminded Lissa of the navigator’s cabin next door, but less cluttered. Paintings adorned the walls, depicting dramatic landscapes, no doubt from all corners of the world. The captain sat at a compact but finely carved dining table. He wore an intricately embroidered blue tunic and pants, with an orange sash around his waist. His black hair had been re-braided into a pair of ponytails that hung to his belt, and he was clean-shaven. He swiveled to greet them.

  "Sit," he said, fluffed his napkin and placed it in his lap.

  Lissa and Branda sat opposite him. Lissa studied the fine porcelain and crystal goblet before her. Did the captain always dine like this? The navigator usually took his dinner in his cabin. She glanced at the captain, intertwining her fingers to mask her trembling hands. Why had he invited them here?

  "I have something for you, girl." He looked at Branda and she flinched under his attention.

  He leaned below the table and pulled out a crystalline sakdra, offering it to her. Its facets sparkled in every color imaginable, with a predominant tint of orange as it reflected the golden rays of suns-set.

  Branda gasped. "My sakdra."

  The captain had to push it into her hands until she finally took it, her mouth agape. She ran her fingers over the holes and mouthpiece. Ito Lissa, it looked identical to the huge instrument Branda had played at the festival.

  "He should never have taken it from you," the captain said. "If I'd have known, we could have been enjoying music all this time. You have a thoughtful friend."

  Lissa's cheeks burned under Branda's stare. Returning her sakdra had meant to have been a secret.

  Still clutching the sakdra, Branda kissed two of her own fingers and touched them to Lissa's. She squeezed her hand, thumb pressing down on top, and then before Lissa could repeat the gesture, Branda let go and hugged her with a huge squeeze.

  "Thank you, thank you," Branda said, addressing Lissa and the captain.

  Coy and Tarba entered with trays of steaming food, which smelled delicious, even though she and Branda had cooked them earlier. Tarba's limp was noticeable as he served three plates of roast jab-bird, hoobin-beets and pastoy, smothered in rich, aromatic gravy. Coy set a pitcher of iced gej-juice and a dark bottle of wine on the table.

  "Enjoy," Tarba said, and they closed the door on their way out.

  The captain pulled the stopper on the wine and poured a rich red liquid into his goblet, and then he filled theirs with juice. He moved stiffly, trying not to turn to his left side, and Lissa remembered Farq stabbing him on the island.

  Both girls remained motionless and silent, with their hands in their laps.

  "Eat while it's warm," he said. "I happen to know my cooking girls make a particularly delicious spiced jab-bird."

  Branda giggled. They picked up their knives and forks and ate. Lissa savored every bite, too used to gobbling down leftovers. She clutched her goblet safely in both hands.

  "Oban, that is to say, the navigator, has spoken at length about you, Lissa." He sipped his wine.

  She swallowed her meat with difficulty. "He told you I ruined one of his books."

  "He did. He also told me you've been quite persistent in your endless questions and interest in his charts." He raised a single eyebrow. "I don't think he's used to someone interfering in his work."

  "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to be any trouble-"

  He cut her off with a wave of his fork. "I'm sure you didn't, but he made it very clear to me that he had no intention of letting you do any navigating on this ship."

  Her shoulders slumped. She pushed the beets around her plate. After her deeds on the island, she had carried high hopes that the navigator would train her. A silly idea, she now realized. She was still just a galley girl.

  "She not mean harm," Branda said quietly, squeezing Lissa's arm. "Please not punish her."

  "As I said," he continued, "he won't teach you but wanted you to have this."

  He pulled a tightly rolled parchment from his waist sash and handed it to Lissa.

  She snapped the seal and read it. Her hands shook.

  "What?" Branda asked.

  "I... I..." Lissa stared at the captain.

  "What wrong?" Branda repeated.

  Lissa took a sip from her goblet, set it down carefully, and finally found her voice.

  She read aloud:

  By the authority of Oban, Flux Navigator of the second mastery, serving aboard The Fair Maiden of Yamin, Captain Porrensa commanding.

  This letter acts as a reference for the admission of Lissa, bearer of this document, to the University of Flux Navigation in Etra.

  The bearer is to be enrolled as a full student, including subsequent apprenticeships necessary to earn the rank of Flux Navigator of the third mastery.

  All correspondence to be addressed to Oban or Captain Porrensa.

  She leaped from the table, dragging Branda to her feet. "Oban is sending me for real training as a navigator."

  An image popped into her head of the immense sea cave set into the cliff with snow falling all around; the image the Klynaks had shown her. It had to be Etra. Her mind tickled with a rasping laugh. Then it and the image vanished.

  Branda wrapped her arms around Lissa, her little face beaming. "I so happy for you. Is what you wished."

  Lissa had to restrain herself from dancing around the room.

  "More than I wished for. Much more." Her smile faded and she sat. Her heart and dream crushed. "My family can't afford to pay for such a thing."

  The incredible opportunity was snatched from her grasp with that realization. Her eyes moistened but she was determined not to cry in front of the captain.

  "Oban has offered to pay all expenses," he said, and poured more wine.

  Her head snapped up and she stared at him. Her jaw dropped and then she remembered her manners.

  "How can I ever repay him for that?"

  The captain laughed. "By not failing your classes? Oban will not appreciate you wasting his money."

  "Of course not." She nodded furiously. "I'll work so hard. I'll study after classes. I'll not miss a single lesson. I'll listen, and learn, and earn the navigator’s faith in me. I'll make him proud. I'll make you both proud of me, sir."

  He gave a long, bass laugh, and then looked at her sternly. "Be sure you do."

  She gulped her gej-juice. Her heart raced. She hated to waste her dinner, but she had passed being hungry. If only she could start her classes right now.

  Branda was quiet, endlessly cutting her meat into smaller pieces and not eating any of them. Lissa touched her arm, realizing that poor Branda would be stuck on the ship without her.

  "I glad you go to Etra," Branda muttered. "You have adventure, as always."

  Lissa sighed, put her arms around Branda's shoulders and looked at the captain with pleading eyes. His gaze flicked between the two girls, then he dow
ned his wine and nodded.

  "Branda," he said. "She's going to need you in Etra, you know?"

  Branda looked up. "She is?"

  "Of course. She'll need a friendly face to get her through the long days."

  The spark returned to Branda's eyes. A smile spread slowly across the tiny girl's face and then tears flowed, like a miniature of the hydro-mountain on Us-imyan. Lissa's vision blurred and she felt the warmth of her own tears running down her nose. Their bodies trembled together with each sob.

  You'll be there, won't you?

  Safe journey.

  "Thank you so much, captain," she gulped between her sobs. "I will never forget it, or your ship. I will bake you and the navigator as many pies as you can eat."

  He chuckled.

  She blinked rapidly and turned to Branda. "I can't wait for our adventures in Etra."

  ** The End **

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to my wonderful wife, Tamara, for putting up with my hours locked away at the keyboard, and for humoring my unpredictable frustrations or rabid excitement along the way. A huge thanks to my developmental copyeditor, Lynnette Labelle, who whipped this book into shape. Remaining typos are all mine. To Erin at EDHGraphics for my enticing cover, and to my readers for their helpful insight, constructive critiquing and excellent suggestions, all of which made this book better: Dan Jeffries, Deborah Reed, Adrianna Lewis, Paula Margulies, John van Roekel, Jilliane and Jared Alag-Cardinal, and Lisa Shapiro.

  Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review.

  I'd love to hear from you. You can connect with me online:

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  Email: graemeing@gmail.com,

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