by T L Ford
"They bother me sometimes, too. I don't like being docked on the shoreline." They were quiet for a moment. "So what's bothering you?" Jayden asked.
"Amy. I don't know what to say to her. I can't talk to my own daughter. It's almost like I can see Amy's ghost. You know how she'd stand with her hands on her hips and lecture us about manners? We thought it was so funny."
Angela should have spoken up, walked up, done something, but her feet seemed glued to the deck.
"Endearing, yes. Amy was quite a little lady. We were an entire ship of ruffians for her to tame."
"It's like I can see her doing that now, except she's saying, 'Why aren't you taking care of our daughter, Jason?' Today, Angela was horrid. You should have seen her. She did everything but spit on those poor women who came to be interviewed. And she apparently forced Kent to be found in bed with her get rid of Lady Dowell."
"I wondered why that woman left in such a huff. Ingenious."
"She's too young to even think about things like that. She should be playing with dolls or something. Geased bodyguards, for crying out loud. What kind of kid needs geased bodyguards?"
Angela bit her lip.
Her father continued, "And I just don't get how Amy could have let her be exposed to the Thieves' Guild. Wasn't she watching her? What kind of mother lets her child get into that kind of danger? I simply can't imagine Amy doing that."
"I doubt Amy knew, Jason. Kids can manage to get in all sorts of trouble if they've got half a brain and Angela has your brilliance."
"So what am I going to do?"
"Just keep trying to talk with her, I suppose. Listen to her, don't judge, provide wisdom, continue to offer your support? Show her you're a good man? Assure her that you love her?"
Her father grunted in acknowledgement.
"And one more thing," Jayden added.
"What?"
"Remember that she's too old to play with dolls. She's a young lady, pretty much a woman now."
"Hmmm." There was a pause. "I hope we get out of port early tomorrow."
It sounded like Jayden was about to depart and he'd catch them eavesdropping, so Angela nudged Robbie and they retreated back to the drawing room.
"She never knew," she said to Robbie quietly.
"Lady Merryweather, you are a creature of magnificent skill, intelligence, and beauty. Your entire Guild is proud of you and proud to name you our Dauphin. Furthermore, it is an honor to have been chosen to serve as your escort. Kent and I were both delighted by your performance today and you have succeeded in acquiring a lady-instructor that won't drive us crazy. Don't let him make you doubt yourself."
But would her mother have been proud? Angela wondered, and retreated to her bunk, where she sat up the remainder of the night staring at the lovely silks her mother would have so adored. Every so often, she heard a page turn outside her door. Just before dawn, she started cutting.
* * * * *
Angela sat on the foredeck, half watching the water, and half reading 'A Master Thief's Observations'. The endless waves and rocking, combined with the mostly quiet ship activity, were hypnotically lulling. Robyn had helped her into a maroon dress and fixed her hair, with much commentary about how real ladies would also wear many more appropriate undergarments. Angela's silk 'Master thief's' outfit had been complete for a week, but Angela planned to wear it first in Siedes. She had already started on a second, in another color.
Robyn and Kent had purchased a book titled 'A Young Ladies Deportment', and Robyn was trying to get Angela to adhere to its strictures for the most part, in the mornings only. Angela's current dress was barely tolerable though. The long sleeves tugged at Angela's upper arms, making it impossible for her to raise her arms all the way and the extra length due to the rippled layers added absurd weight to the already heavy material. At least Robyn hadn't tried to insist on the extra layers. The abundant dress material was now practically bunched up under her bottom, making a cushion on the hard deck. Her legs and bare toes were exposed to the sunlight and warm breeze. The thief's book was propped in the remaining dress fabric on her lap.
'Observation at the skilled thief's level is all about reflections and echoes. You already know about using all five senses, and know to use them all the time. You must also learn to use reflections that are present on every surface. Even a shadow will reflect the color of the objects near it. Know what every surface looks like and learn what it looks like when something approaches it. Most thieves know to avoid reflecting on shiny surfaces, but without constant effort and skill, they'll often overlook other surfaces. Know your own dagger's reflection intimately.'
'Echoes are the other half of minute observation and are not just sound. Movement causes an echo in the air pressure. With constant practice, you'll be able to tell when someone approaches you on a windy day. The passage of a person or animal will also leave a faint scent for hours, in addition to footprints in the dust. Sorting that from a more recent perfume or strong odor is difficult but can be done. Sit quietly and observe and when you have mastered that, learn to do it when going about your activities. Observation must be constantly tested and you must not become complacent or think that you already know what is around you.'
* * * * *
Back toward midship, Captain Thomas saw his daughter sitting entirely inappropriately on the foredeck. Her hair had half-fallen down and was being tangled by the wind. He wondered where that so-called governess had run off to. He thought he might go ask. His daughter was supposed to spend mornings learning the feminine arts. He climbed to the foredeck and saw she was reading an old leather-bound book. He could not make out the words.
"I'm glad to see you reading," Jason commented, hoping the neutral topic might let them talk.
Angela jerked, obviously startled, and squinted up at him.
Jason smiled in what he hoped was a friendly way and wondered why it was so difficult to talk with his own daughter. "You get that from me. I love reading. Your mother only read what she had to."
"So she told me." She folded the book closed and rested her hand on the cover, obscuring the title.
"We have a rather nice collection of books in the storeroom off the galley. Feel free to help yourself. I can also get you any book you might desire. First editions if you'd like."
"Thank you."
He tried to think of something else to say, other than to accuse her of not attending her governess. That would just make her defensive again. The silence grew awkward as they looked at each other.
Finally, Angela asked, "What sort of books do you like?"
Relieved to have something to answer, he exhaled and said, "I was always fond of nautical adventures. A surprising amount of trading notes in those. I learned quite a bit that way."
"Naturally."
"What sort of book is that?"
"Just a book from Lord Merryweather's library that he recommended to me. Seems to be filled with a lot of nonsense."
"Perhaps I should read it when you are done?"
"Perhaps," she replied, sounding agreeable, but something in her eyes suggested she didn't want to share.
Jason was just about to ask what the book was about when the bell in the crow's nest rang. The length and timbre indicated a ship had been spotted. He scanned the horizon.
CHAPTER 9: Guildmember
Angela heard the bell and was glad to have an excuse to shuffle the book under her arm and stand up. She plotted to keep her father and the book far apart. She rather doubted he'd find the section on emergency rope-making from your victim's tendons suitable reading. Luckily most of it was in formal thieves' cant.
"That means a ship has been spotted," her father explained as he pulled out his looking-glass and scanned the sea.
Angela peered out to the blue horizon and saw nothing except some fluffy clouds.
"Do you see it?" she asked. She shook out the long folds of material at the bottom of her dress. Maybe the material could be repurposed into pillowcases? She certainly had no i
ntention of ever wearing the dress again.
"No, not yet. You should go ahead below deck, though. If it turns out to be pirates, they shouldn't know you are here."
"More likely to attack if they see a girl?" If it turned out to be pirates, her father would need every experienced fighter on deck. She'd seen Jamil fight and was unimpressed. The others on the ship were probably about his skill level. She, however, had two superior fighters as bodyguards and they would be required to be by her side during any unexpected event, according to their geas to her Master. Therefore, to have them on deck helping defend the ship, she had to be on deck. She also had six years of training with the best weapons instructors her Master could afford, but she hoped to avoid participating. She had enough nightmares already.
"More likely to push past our defenses and raid the cabins for you before we can turn them back. Go ahead below deck," he ordered and jogged off, not waiting to see if she obeyed.
"Well," she murmured to herself, "He didn't say I had to stay below deck." She navigated around the men moving to their stations and looking across the water and went to her cabin. She dug around in her clothes hatch until she found her looking-glass. Robyn and Kent arrived at the same time.
"They're saying it's flying a merchant flag, Milady," Kent said. "You should change into something more useful, anyway."
Robyn seemed ready to ask something and then got distracted mid-word. "What have you done to your dress?"
Angela glanced down. The pretty maroon fabric was covered with a web of ugly creases. She could only assume the back was worse. She didn't think the small seam tear on each sleeve was visible from Robyn's viewpoint. "I was trying for a different fashion style."
"More likely you were sitting on the floor again. Don't do that anymore. Not before lunch anyway. Your father will surely fire me for not performing my duties. I'm supposed to be turning you into a lady."
"I'll consider it." Angela grinned unrepentantly. "Kent, go wake Robbie and fetch my gear, eh? I'll meet you on deck."
Kent nodded and turned to Robyn, "You stay below, Miss, here in Milady's cabin. Lock it up tight. We'll take care of the ship just fine."
Kent ran off. Robyn's gaze followed him, filled with longing.
Angela raised an eyebrow at Robyn. "He's hardly suitable husband material for a young lady of refinement."
"Good thing I'm not a young lady of refinement, then," Robyn answered, with a giggle.
Angela grinned. "Help me out of this nonsense." She turned so Robyn could get at the buttons. "You do a better job at this lady thing than me. That dress looks pretty on you."
"Do you really think so?"
"Definitely."
"Do you think Kent thought so?"
"I think he was probably hard-pressed to look away from your neckline and into your eyes as you spoke." Angela was already thinking about what she'd like to have with her in case the approaching ship turned out to be something else. She'd take her daggers and the class A poison, just in case. She'd not use all of it. There would still be plenty for the other task. She shuddered involuntarily and pushed the thought out of her mind.
Robyn reached up and smoothed her own hair, a gesture that Angela still had not mastered. "He treats me like one, you know."
"Like one what?"
"Like a real lady."
"I'm glad. You deserve it." Once free of the dress, Angela wasted no time swapping to her brown pants and loose shirt and attaching her hard leather pouch of poisons to a belt. She took out a pair of throwing daggers and secured them in their sheaths.
Robyn's eyes grew wide. "Do you really know how to use those?"
"Yes."
"They look wickedly evil."
"I suppose." Angela took one out and held it out to Robyn. "These are perfectly balanced for throwing. They're thinner than normal daggers. No handguard. See?"
Robyn took it by the handle and turned it so she could see it better. She handed it back. "It's heavy."
"It's lighter than a normal one of this length though." Angela resheathed it with a practiced, fluid motion. "Look, just stay down here with the door locked. I'll come back for you when it's safe."
"Do you think it's pirates?"
"Not likely. This is all just prudent precaution." Angela pushed the door closed and heard Robyn lock it. She went back to the deck to see if she could get a look at the supposed merchant ship.
She moved to the railing and took out her looking-glass. The ship wasn't one she recognized. It had never been to Merryweather. It was flying full sails across its two masts and sitting high in the water, unweighted by heavy cargo. It was also moving much faster than they were. Rather than try to outrun it, her father had apparently decided to head toward it, less time for both ships' crews to be prepared. Maybe he was counting on superior preparation? His crew was certainly busy and appeared quite organized.
Jayden, on his way to the quarterdeck, stopped when he saw her. "Milady! Get below deck. It isn't safe up here. Where are your bodyguards?"
"They'll be along. Is it a merchant?"
"No. We changed course and they adjusted theirs to intercept."
"Oh," Angela said, "I thought my father was trying to close the distance."
"We'll lose the wind and speed if we try to go the other way now." The First Mate ran his hand through his hair in a frustrated, harried manner.
Robbie arrived in time to hear this last bit, fully outfitted for combat, if bleary-eyed. His swords and daggers were in fine order and obviously well-maintained. He also had a hard leather pouch like hers.
Jayden commanded Robbie, "Get her below!"
Robbie yawned, ignoring this. "Kent's bringing the rest, Milady."
"What kind of bodyguard are you?! Get her below deck! Anything that gets past us, you'll have to stop."
"I'm the kind who just woke up. Stop shouting. Yechk, it's bright out here."
Kent arrived carrying several belts with assorted weapons. Jayden pounced on him. "Ah! Here's your sane bodyguard. Kent, get her out of sight before she's seen."
Kent merely tossed Angela two of the belts and then another to Robbie. Both slung these over their shoulders, sash-like, dagger handles conveniently placed to be easily pulled.
"It's all right, Jayden," Angela said comfortingly, "We'll hang out at the back and only come forward if we're needed."
"Yo! Jayden! I need you up here!" Angela's father called from the quarterdeck.
"Get below deck!" Jayden yelled as he jogged toward Angela's father.
Angela disregarded this, despite wanting to do nothing more than go lock herself away, but logic demanded she hold her post. She'd never forgive herself if any of these men died and she could have prevented it. She scrutinized the approaching ship through her looking-glass. "Well, it looks like they definitely intend to attack. The deck crew are all sporting swords. Looks like about twenty-five of them."
"Swords or men?" Robbie asked, with amusement. "You'd think they'd have the decency to attack at night."
"Must be pretty confident about taking us," Kent noted.
"Does it look like she's listing oddly to you?" Angela raised her hand flat and felt the wind. The ship's mast is tilted into the wind.
"Certainly sitting much too high in the water," Kent said agreeably.
"Do you suppose they have any ranged weapons?" Robbie took the looking-glass and peered through it.
Behind them, her father's crew was busily arming themselves. Either they had practiced for this eventuality or her father and Jayden were excellent commanders. Likely both.
"One good thing about water combat. You have plenty of time to check out the opposition before they get close." Robbie said as he passed the looking-glass to Kent.
"In broad daylight, sure." Kent rotated and still looking through the glass, studied their own ship and activities. Angela made a face as he aimed it toward her. "You're ugly with a nose that big," he teased and turned back to the enemy ship.
"Miss," The ship's doctor said,
coming over to them, "You three need to go below before you are spotted. Those are pirates and they aren't going to be easy to defend against."
"They've already spotted me." To nullify Matthew's argument, she waved at the approaching vessel just to be sure.
"Now that's just stupid," Robbie observed. "Keep it up and I'll haul you below myself and hogtie you."
"Oh, all right." Angela frowned at Robbie.
"Come on, Miss," Matthew reached for her arm to pull her. He was stopped by Kent's dagger at his throat.
"Don't touch Milady," Kent threatened.
"I'm on your side, Idiot," Matthew grated, but he dropped his hand to his side.
"We'll go hide," Angela placated. She didn't exactly say who they'd be hiding from. "You should go get yourself a weapon, Matthew."
"I'll be stitching up the lot of you before nightfall. I won't need a weapon. Besides, I wouldn't be much help to anyone if I joined the combat. I need to go finish setting up my work area. Come below."
"We'll hide. I promise. There's still plenty of time yet."
"There's never enough time," Matthew muttered as he hurried off.
"That looks kind of weird," Kent said, having resumed staring at the ship through the glass.
"What does?" Angela took the glass.
"Their foremast has some extra lines on it."
"I never knew you were much of a sailor, Kent." Angela squinted.
"I did a bit of sailing in my younger years."
"Don't let on to that First Mate," Robbie advised.
"Of course not. I don't want to be crew."
Angela snorted and then paused. "It looks like it has something metal behind it."
"What does?"
"The mast. When the boat rocks just right, it sparkles."
Kent took the glass back and stared into it. "Now what is that?" Kent murmured, frowning. "Whatever it is, I think that's what's causing the ship to lean into the wind."
Kent passed the glass to Robbie. They took turns as the ship got closer. Finally, Robbie weighed in with, "Is it a lance? Maybe a really long one, like one of those giant hillmen might use?"
"What would they want with a lance?" Angela asked.