Voyager of the Crown

by Melissa McShane

  Someone settled down on the ground where Belinda had lain, not too far from her. “She’ll be all right in the morning,” Ransom said. “Just needs some salt. Lack of that can kill a person here in the jungle.”

  Salt. That was it. “Thank you,” she said. He hadn’t sounded at all sarcastic then, nor turned his words into a sardonic reminder of how ill-equipped they were to survive in the wild. And he’d been unexpectedly gentle with Belinda and Cantara. Not that it made her like him more.

  Ransom laughed, a deep chuckle Zara almost found pleasant. “I’ve got some in my supplies you can have,” he said. “I’m not completely heartless.”

  “Heartless enough to abandon us.”

  “It’s hardly abandonment if we weren’t traveling together in the first place.”

  “Whatever you want to call it. You pointed out we’re not prepared to survive in the jungle, but you’re not willing to help us even though you are?”

  Ransom blew out his breath. “I’m not going to drop my responsibilities just to play nursemaid to a bunch of strays.”

  Zara rolled her eyes. “Yes, you certainly look like a responsible man, you and your donkey in the middle of nowhere.”

  “You’re awfully quick to judge, aren’t you?”

  “As quick as you are to criticize.”

  Ransom rolled onto his side to face her. “It’s hardly criticism to point out the blindingly obvious.”

  “Well, it’s not as if we chose this, so you’re not criticizing so much as taunting us. If you were—”

  “If I were what?”

  The words If you were dropped into my court, you’d be the one taunted nearly escaped her lips. Where had that come from? She hadn’t had a court in sixty years. “Nothing. I’m sorry. There’s no point us arguing. Thank you for giving us protection tonight.”

  Ransom went silent. Zara thought about turning her back on him, but that would look too much like she cared enough to deliberately snub him. After a few moments, he said, “If you keep an eye on the monkeys, you can avoid the caimans. They won’t drink where the monsters are.”

  “Thank you. I’d noticed that.” There, she could be polite. It hadn’t sounded the least bit sarcastic.

  “What have you been eating?”

  “Papayas.”

  “I’ll show you a few other trees with edible fruit in the morning.”

  “Thank you.”

  They both fell silent again. Zara had begun to drift off when Ransom said, “You’ll want to avoid the low-hanging vines. Some of them are snakes.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “It’s hard. Sometimes you just have to watch for the movement. Try to avoid them altogether.”

  Zara rolled onto her side to face him. “Too bad we don’t have someone to show us the difference.”

  “If you’d—”

  Ransom rolled onto his back and flung one arm over his eyes. Then he started speaking rapidly in the same language he’d used when she first approached his camp. She didn’t understand him, but she knew swearing when she heard it. “I’m doing this against my will,” he said finally. “You’re all nothing but a burden. I have work to do and I don’t have time to be your nanny. You had all better do everything I say, without question, or I really will leave you behind.”

  “Don’t do us any favors.”

  “Oh, I’m not. I’m just softheaded enough not to want your deaths on my conscience. Go to sleep, Miss Farrell, and no more insults or I might change my mind.”

  Zara rolled onto her other side so she didn’t have to look at Ransom. What kind of man could treat saving five people’s lives as some kind of penance? He was infuriating, and it made her angry to have to depend on him. Well, it shouldn’t take more than a few days to reach Manachen, and that would be the end of it. If he could keep them all alive that long, she’d forgive him any number of offenses. Maybe.

  Chapter Six

  A beam of light shining directly into her eyes woke Zara the next morning. Of course, it would fit the kind of luck she’d been having that the lone sunbeam striking the clearing would find her. She rolled to her feet and brushed herself off, then stretched out her stiff muscles. Rowing all night, walking all day, sleeping on the ground—this wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she set off for adventure.

  She smelled hot rice, and her stomach growled. Ransom sat near the fire, stirring a small pot. In the daylight, the blond in his hair was brighter, and he looked to be in his mid-twenties. “There’s not much,” he said. “I didn’t plan on feeding a horde.”

  “We’re hardly a horde.” He’d sounded annoyed, and her irritation of the night before returned.

  “Yes, but you’re still a drain on my supplies, and I was running low to start with.”

  “I’m sorry to inconvenience you. We’ll eat fruit instead.”

  “I said you were a drain, not that I’d let you starve. But we’ll have to take turns because I only have one bowl.” He scooped some of the white mess into a chipped wooden bowl and extended it to her along with a similarly battered spoon.

  “I’d rather you ate first,” Zara said.

  “Don’t tell me you’d deprive me of the chance to patronize you? Eat. I’ll go gather fruit. No time to hunt for more than that. We can make this last long enough to reach our destination.”

  Behind her, one of the Zakharis rose. Zara glared at Ransom, but took the bowl and began eating. It was sticky and bland and she’d never tasted anything so wonderful in her life. Ransom gave her another of those sideways smiles, took a curved, notched blade from beside the box, and left the clearing. A tuneful whistle drifted back to her, which only made her more irritated with their unwilling host.

  She finished eating and filled the bowl again, handed it to Cantara, then sat on Ransom’s stool and poked at the fire. They might actually survive this, even if she wasn’t sure just how far Ransom was willing to take them. If they could only return to the shore, they’d be able to find their way to Manachen…and then they’d have to convince the Karitians to take them to Goudge’s Folly, or even to send a message so Zara’s new employers could come for them.

  She hoped Falken & Daughter cared about her in the abstract, since Mistress Falken Senior had never met her personally, but surely they wouldn’t leave fellow Tremontanans (and a couple of Eskandelics) to the mercy of the Karitians? Ransom seemed to think the Karitians weren’t as quick to attack as Zara had been told, but his perspective was probably skewed. Did he really live in the jungle? He had to have some contact with humanity, because rice didn’t grow on trees. Or were there rice paddies in the jungle?

  “That smells so good,” Belinda said. “Are we taking turns?”

  Zara accepted the bowl from Cantara and refilled it, handing it to Belinda. “Ransom went looking for more food. But eat as much as you can. It’s got to be more filling than papayas.”

  Arjan and Cantara came to sit near Zara. “We thank you,” Arjan said. “You kept us safe. I in your debt am.”

  “Really,” Zara said. “Then you can tell me who you really are. Not brother and sister, that’s for sure.”

  Arjan and Cantara exchanged glances. “They will not tell,” Cantara said. Arjan scowled. “He thinks it safe anywhere is not,” Cantara continued.

  “Because safe it is not,” Arjan said, but he was shaking his head in resignation.

  “You’re married? Betrothed? Lovers?” Zara said.

  Cantara shook her head. “He is my zuareto.”

  Zara sucked in a startled breath. No wonder they were so nervous of being found out. “You fled your harem?”

  “What’s zuareto mean?” Belinda asked.

  “It means Cantara is a wife of a principality, a member of the harem, and Arjan is the son of one of the other wives. Sweet heaven. Is Zakhari really your name?”

  “No. Takjashi.”

  One of the most powerful principalities in the Eskandelic government. Their relationship was so illegal it could mean their deaths. “Dineh-Karit m
ight not be far enough away to protect you.”

  “She married her son?” Zara hadn’t realized Theo was listening. Arjan leaped to his feet and advanced on the young man, fists raised.

  “He’s not her son, he’s her stepson, and Arjan, don’t you dare start a fight just because Theo doesn’t understand how your families work.” Zara put herself between the two of them and glared at the tall man. Never show fear, even if he is taller and stronger than you. “Arjan, none of us are interested in turning you over to your government. What happened? You spent too much time at home, you and Cantara?”

  Arjan went back to put his arm around Cantara. “We had much in common,” he said, “many scholastic pursuits. We did not realize the danger until it was too late. But a woman may not divorce a harem, and I thought my home to leave so Cantara’s honor would not compromised be.”

  “I did not know my husband a violent man was,” Cantara said. “It concealed from me by my sisters was, who embarrassed and ashamed of him were. I could not bear his touch and I sent for Arjan. He helped me escape. We cannot marry, but I will not leave him.”

  “That’s unfair,” Theo said. “You shouldn’t have to stay married to someone who beats you.”

  “It our law is, that he remains our husband unless the harem chooses him to divorce. And it will weaken Takjashi such a thing to do, so they choose not.” Cantara smiled at Arjan. “But in my heart I Arjan’s wife am.”

  “That’s up to you,” Zara said, “and as I said, it’s none of our business. But I’m glad you told us the truth.”

  “Truth about what?” Ransom said. He had a net bag over his shoulder, bulging with mangoes, bananas, and a couple of fruits Zara had never seen before.

  “That Cantara is still feeling poorly,” Zara said. “She shouldn’t exert herself.”

  “I see,” Ransom said. Zara didn’t think he believed her. “I’ll see what I can do about that. Everyone, eat up, and then we’ll move out.”

  Zara helped herself to a banana—she hadn’t had one in years, they didn’t travel up the mountain well—and watched Ransom take Cantara by the hand. It was true, she still didn’t look well, but then the wives of principalities didn’t necessarily go in for physical exertion, not like the men, for whom exercise and swordplay, as archaic as that was, were a standard part of their education. Though she’d always looked strong enough, back on the ship. She already looked better from whatever it was Ransom was doing.

  Zara spat a couple of seeds into her hand and turned away, feeling like an intruder. She prayed to ungoverned heaven nothing would happen to her that would require healing, because Ransom would definitely find out her secret, and she didn’t want him knowing anything more about her than he already did.

  They ate in silence, the heat and humidity already oppressive even though it couldn’t have been later than eight o’clock. Then Zara and the others stood around awkwardly while Ransom took down his tent and packed his gear onto the donkey. Arjan offered to help, but Ransom waved him away. “I’m used to doing this myself,” he said, “and you’re technically my guests.”

  “So generous of you,” Zara said.

  “It is generous of me,” he said. “You’ve already delayed me by a day. But I couldn’t exactly leave you to wander the jungle and probably get killed. Now, where we’re going is a lot more overgrown than this, and you’ll need to stay close to me so you don’t get lost.”

  “Aren’t we going back down the river?”

  Ransom shook his head and slapped the donkey’s flank; the animal stepped out without complaint. “I’ve got a delivery to make, and I’m not abandoning that. You’ll just have to come along south—unless you want to strike out on your own.”

  “As if we’d give you the satisfaction,” Zara retorted.

  Ransom shrugged and turned away. “It will take two days, best I can figure. Then we can head downriver and get you all to safety, at least as much safety as anyone can expect here.”

  Zara glanced at Belinda, who was already pink from the heat. They shouldn’t waste time going wherever Ransom thought he needed to go, but they didn’t really have a choice. She set off after Ransom and the donkey, praying she could survive this trip without killing the man.

  It didn’t take long for the tall trees to thin out, then disappear entirely, supplanted by shorter ones lush with bright green foliage that smelled of wet, rotting mulch. It wasn’t exactly an unpleasant smell, but it was everywhere, and Zara soon gave up trying to breathe through her mouth and decided to endure it. Ransom cut a narrow path with his notched blade that forced them to travel single file, Theo right behind the donkey, then Belinda, then Zara, with Arjan and Cantara bringing up the rear.

  After about half an hour, Zara saw monkeys filling the trees around them. These were a different variety, no bigger than the length of her forearm and golden-furred. Belinda kept stopping to look at them. “They’re adorable,” she exclaimed. “I wish I could hold one.”

  “It would just defecate on you,” Zara said, but she had a secret wish to see if the golden fur was as soft as it looked.

  “I’ve held one before,” Theo said, “at a traveling menagerie. The fur’s actually sort of bristly. Though that could have been because it was captive. I don’t think the menagerie owner took good care of them.”

  “The Zoo in Umberan cares very well for its animals,” Cantara said. “I have visited many times.”

  “I went once, years ago,” Zara said. “There were much larger monkeys—except they said they were apes, and there was a difference.”

  “If you keep talking, you’ll never see them,” Ransom called out. “You’re making enough noise I’m surprised the tamarins haven’t all fled.”

  He sounded so sarcastic Zara replied, “They clearly have better judgment than you do.”

  “Meaning I’m a fool for taking you on?”

  “Meaning they realize we’re no danger to them.”

  “Oh, I’m fully aware of that.” Ransom slashed twice at a thick branch. “Look out for the spider.”

  Belinda shrieked. Zara turned quickly to see a brown, furry spider the size of her hand scurry into the branches of a nearby tree. “Calm down, Belinda,” she said. “I suppose it’s poisonous?”

  “Venomous, and no, it isn’t. It just doesn’t deserve to be struck at by one of you because you’re frightened.”

  “I hate spiders,” Belinda said, her breath coming even more quickly than it had been. “Hate them. Too many legs and too many eyes. You just know the only thing keeping them from hunting us is their size.”

  “Ransom said it was harmless. It was probably—”

  “Don’t say it was more scared of me than I was of it. I can tell you right now that’s impossible.”

  “Don’t worry,” Theo said, brandishing a stick. “If they come too close I can fend them off. But I think Ransom’s right that we shouldn’t attack them if they’re not attacking us.”

  “Very sensible,” Ransom said. “Now, if you can stay quiet, we might see something interesting.”

  Zara bit back another scathing retort. He was annoying, his replies were almost always tinged with sarcasm, but he was right. Though it might not be the best idea to allow some of these animals to approach; the caiman couldn’t possibly be the only dangerous animal in the jungle. She started to ask Ransom about it, then looked at Belinda, who was drawn in on herself trying not to touch any of the trees or bushes or vines they passed, and decided it was better not to frighten the others too much. But don’t wild animals only flee from humans if they know they’re a threat? she thought. If we’re the only ones they’ve ever seen…

  She looked far ahead to where Ransom cut a path, beyond the donkey. His arrogance annoyed her, true, but he was also confident where Watson had been brash, and even though she wouldn’t have walked as far as the corner with him in Aurilien, she found she trusted him to get them where they were going in the jungle.

  They walked on through the damp heat for hours, not stopping
for dinner. Ransom handed back fruit and strips of dried meat for them to eat as they went. The low-hanging branches with their broad, vividly green leaves kept off most of the sun, but trapped enough moisture that Zara felt she was walking through fine mist. Ahead of her, Belinda was breathing heavily, but didn’t have any trouble keeping the pace. Out of shape she might be, but she was also strong-willed, and Zara no longer felt fear for her.

  She ducked under a branch and saw another spider, this one bigger than the first, with a shiny black abdomen streaked with red and spindly legs that clung to a web beaded with water droplets. It was beautiful and unsettling at the same time. The entire jungle felt that way to her, alien and beautiful, dangerous and compelling. Far in the distance she heard the hooting of what was either a different kind of monkey or a flock of large birds. It was impossible to see past the branches and the vines hanging low above the path.

  Belinda ducked under one of those vines and said, “I can’t imagine being able to light a fire here. Everything’s so wet.”

  “I’m sure Ransom will think of something,” Zara said sourly. His attitude toward his “guests” still annoyed her, even though a small, rational part of her considered what kind of errands a doctor might perform in the jungle and whether his impatience might not be justified. Not that it made her like him any better.

  Belinda ducked under another vine and put her hand up to push aside another one. “He—” she said.

  Zara saw the movement, one of the vines slipping over a branch too easily. She shouted, “Move!” and grabbed Belinda before she could obey, yanking her back and throwing up her own arm instinctively.

  Sharp, agonizing pain went through her wrist as the snake struck faster than she could see, then convulsed, pumping venom into her arm. She gasped and tried to shake it off, but it wouldn’t release her and kept thrashing. It’s more afraid of you than you are of it, she thought hysterically, and tried swatting it with her free hand, with no result.