Bravura

by Sara Kingsley

  “I love you, Raven Araroa.” He whispers this into my ear, and it’s like the sweetest music I’ve ever heard.

  Moments later, I hear his breathing grow slow and even as he gives in to exhaustion. I don’t want to sleep yet, though. I want to relish every second of this. My arms are wrapped around his, his body curled around mine. My favorite place in the entire world.

  King Araroa’s Kingdom of Nadir has never seemed so far away.

  The pounding on the door is what wakes me after hours of blissful sleep with Leif. I’m disoriented; I can’t remember where I am at first. Leif sits up, throwing the covers off us, and cool air stings my bare skin. I start to open my mouth to answer the knock, but he puts one finger over my lips. Shakes his head.

  “Who’s there?” he calls out.

  “Your aunt. Imogen. Let me in”—a short hesitation—“please.”

  Leif doesn’t look all that relieved by this. “One moment. Just getting dressed!” He sighs. I shrug. We both reluctantly roll out of the soft bed and find our clothes. Leif’s are washed and dried, folded on a chair. I only have a second to wonder who did that. Who’d come in while we were sleeping. The thought sends a blush of embarrassment down my entire body.

  When we’re decent, Leif opens the door, ready to embrace his aunt. Instead, she pushes past him, angrily marching across the room to set down a tray of breakfast food on the table. She spins around.

  “I hear the both of you are leaving.” Her hands are on her hips. Green eyes flashing, she looks at Leif, to me, then back to Leif. “Is this true?”

  “No ‘glad you are free of the dungeon, dear nephew’?” Leif says dryly. He walks to the tray of food, picks up a cheese biscuit, takes a bite. He chews slowly, looking at her and waiting for her reply, one brow raised.

  I interject instead. “Yes. We’re setting sail back to Nuimana this morning. King Araroa made a deal. Leif goes free if I leave immediately. It’s best for everyone if I return to … to my country. My people.” I finish strapping my belt on, Fortissima’s silver hilt flashing as a ray of early-morning sun streams in through the window.

  “You were fooled,” she says, her jaw tight. I can tell she’s struggling to contain her rage. “King Araroa is not capable of maintaining his end of any deal. He lies. Besides, he wouldn’t have harmed Leif. Not mortally. He was always using Leif as bait.” She looks straight at me now. “And as long as he didn’t have you under his control—as he does now, I might add—Araroa would simply dangle Leif in front of you. He’d never kill him.”

  “Maybe you are right. Maybe Araroa was never going to execute Leif. But how was I supposed to know? And how could I possibly live one second longer knowing Leif was in that horrible dungeon, being starved and beaten?”

  “It is fairly awful down there. The food is terrible.” Leif takes another bite of biscuit, ignoring the daggers flying from his aunt’s eyes.

  “I’m sure it is. But, Raven, you don’t need to keep your end of the deal.”

  “Of course I do. King Araroa said he’d kill us both if we didn’t leave. And I believe him.”

  Imogen shakes her head. “See, that’s what I’m talking about. He’s not going to kill you either. He knows we’d rise up if he even tried to do such a thing. Look at what’s happened since he had Seraphine killed. He’s barely been able to keep order in the Bastion. People are still furious. They’ll never forgive him for that. You see what’s happening. He knows it would be a disaster if he did the same to you. People’s hopes would be crushed. And when hope is crushed, all that’s left is anger.”

  I let Imogen’s words sink in. I so badly don’t want to believe they are true, but I know they are. Once again, King Araroa is playing with me like a cat plays with a mouse. I grit my teeth together and ball my hands into fists. I really want to scream, punch something.

  Because her words keep running through my head: he lies. He promised he’d back off, let Tui and Catriona go, trade with Nuimana, leave the bearcats free.

  But I’m better than that.

  “I’m sorry, Imogen. I know you want me to stay. And you are still waiting for my answer, after all this time, if I will lead the Treasoners against Araroa’s tyranny. I fully support the cause, I want you to know that. Please tell everyone this. But I’m not like King Araroa; I will uphold my end of our agreement. He returned Leif to me, and I will keep my word to return to Nuimana. If I didn’t, I’d be no better than he is. I am not a liar.”

  Imogen’s tense arms relax, dropping to her sides. Her face softens, no longer angry. Only a tired sadness remains. “How can I argue with that?”

  “I’ll make another promise. This one to you. And to all the other Treasoners. I will come back when Araroa is dead. He is old. And I never made any promises to Dominic.” I smile at her, and she returns it, a small one.

  “No, you didn’t, m’lady. We’ll welcome you with open arms when you return.” She steps toward Leif. “You too, my boy.” She reaches up to ruffle his hair, curls loose and clean on his shoulders.

  Leif grabs his aunt into his arms, hugs her tight before holding her an arm’s length away. “Have you heard? About Papa?”

  “No, good news, I hope?”

  Leif nods, then fills her in on Nile’s whereabouts.

  Imogen is grinning by the time he’s finished. “Well, that little bugger. I had helped that group escape from the Bastion. I wonder why he didn’t tell me he was planning to go with?”

  “Probably didn’t want to give you the chance to try to convince him to stay.” Leif winks at her. “You’re very convincing.” He glances over the top of her head at me, raises his brows. I pretend I don’t notice.

  Aunt and nephew hug again, then release each other. “I nearly forgot,” she says, pulling a long object from her skirts: my old knife. I don’t ask any questions as she hands it over to Leif.

  Imogen offers her hand to me, but I pull her into a hug instead. As we separate, I remember something I was going to ask her. “My horse—Pearl. She’s out back, in the stable. Can you use her? Can she help the Treasoners, I mean?”

  Imogen nods eagerly. “Yes indeed. She’d be excellent for helping us travel, to get messages delivered quickly. We’ll take excellent care of her. I promise, Raven.”

  I smile, glad Pearl will be able to spend her days doing good.

  Imogen starts toward the door to depart.

  “Wait! Imogen—” She turns around slowly to face me again. “The Treasoners already have a leader.”

  “They do?”

  “Yes. It’s you.”

  She shakes her head, chuckling. “Oh, I’m not that. I’m just trying to help whomever I can. Warning those under suspicion of the King, his Hunters. Trying to keep families together, or what’s left of them. Gather food—”

  “Yes, exactly that. You’ve been their leader here in the Bastion this entire time. I expect regular word from you on the status of the Treasoners here. I’ll do what I can from Nuimana.”

  Imogen straightens her shoulders and bows her head. “Yes, m’lady. I’d be honored.”

  She backs out the door and is gone.

  Leif sighs, watching her leave.

  I remember his look a few minutes earlier. “Out with it, Leif. I know there’s something you want to say.”

  He picks another biscuit from the tray and hands it to me, grinning. “I was thinking … if Imogen can’t convince you to stay, to lead the Treasoners against Araroa, then perhaps I can.”

  I nearly drop the biscuit onto the floor. “And why would you do that? Let’s get out of here, Leif. It’s what we planned to do. Besides”—I flash a grin at him—“remember when our biggest problem was whether or not it was going to rain? Those were the days.”

  A dreamy look crosses over Leif’s face, a flood of memories returning. Just as quickly, he snaps back to our present conversation. “You’re right. But what you said, about keeping your word even though we all know Araroa wouldn’t keep his word to save his son’s life …”

/>   “I meant that.”

  “I know you did. You have more integrity in your little finger than he’s got in his entire Palace.”

  I blush. Suddenly I feel like I did when we first met. When he’d started talking about his father’s Woman King stories. He still has so much more faith in me than I do. I might be the Woman King of Nuimana, but here, in Nadir, I am powerless.

  I am only certain of this one thing: We need to go, as I promised.

  “I am honored, Leif. I really am. That you think so much of me. That you believe I could somehow help the Treasoners to fight Araroa. But I promised I would go.”

  Leif tilts his head, studying my face. “All right. I thought I’d give it a try. Let’s go catch our ship.”

  We gulp down the lukewarm coffee, grab another biscuit each. I throw my pack over my shoulder, with my crown still tucked inside. I stop by the counter at the pub downstairs and offer to pay for our room and meals, but the pubkeep waves me off, tells me it’s on the house.

  I don’t argue. I’d left a handful of gold coins on the table upstairs for him anyway.

  We find the Olympia tugging at her dock lines. A warm and soft offshore breeze is picking up. Captain Stone says we’ll be off shortly and will make good time this first day out.

  I sit on deck, watching Leif help the dockworkers load the last of the crates and barrels on board. I’d told Leif he didn’t need to help, he’d barely gotten some strength back. But he insisted, saying nothing slowed healing like sitting still.

  I can’t see the Bastion from here. Low forested hills surround the port, but I know it’s over there. I know I won’t be returning for a very long time.

  This is the last chance I’ll have. I realize I could change my mind. I could jump back to the dock, find Pearl, find Imogen. I think of those Treasoners, hiding out in the cellars of the Bastion. Missing family. Holding on to shreds of hope that they’ll be reunited. I imagine Imogen climbing down the ladder, into a cellar, then telling them I’ve not returned with her. That I’ve gone back to Nuimana. I can feel their disappointment. In me.

  I wonder if Rosie ever found her brother. I wonder if I’ll ever know.

  That’s a promise I’m not keeping. I think of another, one I made nearly a year ago when Queen Seraphine was executed. The words were silent, but I meant them, at the time: King Araroa will pay for this. He will pay for all our sorrow. He will pay for what he’s taken from all of us.

  That’s a promise I made, but now I know that it’s an impossible one to keep. And now Araroa needs to pay for the pain and torture he inflicted on Leif, all because of me. But what can I do? Nothing.

  Leif finishes with the loading and joins me where I’m standing by the mizzenmast. We sit on a wooden deck box as Captain Stone gives the shout to raise sail. The dockworkers heave the ropes on board, and we’re untethered, floating free. Sails raised and pulling, the shoreline grows smaller, farther away. It’s too late, we’re sailing. There’s no going back now.

  But I can’t tear my eyes from the shore. Something’s happening: I watch a familiar brown horse with a curly-haired rider dash right up onto the dock. Immediately, I jump up and run over to the aft rail.

  “Catriona!” I wave at her. But she probably can’t hear me, not this far away.

  My own name comes echoing back to me. “Raven!” She’s got her hands up to her mouth, shouting. I can’t make out the words. They are coming at me, all garbled by the distance and the wind. Catriona’s still shouting, waving her arms.

  “What? What is it?” I yell back to her, but my voice is carried away by the freshening wind. She can’t hear me. I can’t hear her. We sail on.

  Chapter 25

  When Catriona’s body is a tiny dot on the shore, I am forced to give up. Whatever she was trying to tell me, she’ll have to send in a letter to Nuimana, via the next ship out.

  The Olympia sails down the channel toward the open sea. We turn a corner, and I can’t see the port any longer, only wild land. Trees perch on rocky cliffs that plunge straight down into the sea. Even so, I have to fight the urge to jump and swim. Return to the port, all the way back to Catriona. I can’t shake this feeling of dread. Whatever she was trying to tell me, it must have been important.

  I feel Leif wrap his arm around my waist—I hadn’t even noticed he’d been standing next to me. We’re getting close to the end of the channel now, and the swells have started to roll in. The ship heaves and creaks, up and down.

  Leif leans over and kisses the top of my head. “Do you want to go downstairs, lie in your bunk?” On all my other trips, that was how I’d overcome seasickness: by keeping as still as possible with a fistful of crackers to nibble on.

  But this time, I feel like I’d miss something, hiding below. I shake my head and return to the deck box by the mast. I lean back against it and watch small waves build on the surface of the water. Leif joins me; together we watch the outer shoreline pass behind the ship until it begins to get dark.

  Mrs. Stone rings the dinner bell at dusk. Most deckhands go below for supper; a handful of crew remain on deck to keep watch. I reluctantly join everyone below.

  I’m pleased that my stomach doesn’t reject the food, not yet anyway. Several large shepherd’s pies, hot from the galley’s wood-fueled cooking oven, are passed around the table. I help myself to a large piece and eat it quickly. We each get a small cup of ale to wash our meal down, to celebrate the beginning of our voyage. There’s an extra cup sitting near Captain Stone’s place.

  Like most sea captains, I’ve learned, he doesn’t miss a thing. Noticing me looking at the cup, he says, “Are ye wondering who that one is for, m’lady?” I return his question with a nod.

  “Ah, that one is for the sea gods, m’lady. We always give them a round of spirits at the start of a voyage, to entice them to go easy on us. Would ye like to do the honors?”

  “Very much. Thank you.” I take the cup he holds out to me, and slowly make my way back up to the aft deck. Leif follows.

  It’s very dark now; the sky is clear, a blanket of stars. The moon is just beginning to rise over the land still visible in the distance. The sea is slight, the ship ghosting along in a soft breeze, and I only have to lean against the railing to keep my balance.

  “Should I say something?” I ask Leif. Perhaps he’s done this before, on his last voyage aboard the Olympia. I look up at him. His hair is silver in the moonlight, ruffling in the gentle breeze. He smiles down at me, his teeth flashing white in the darkness.

  “I don’t think it’s necessary. But on the other hand, it certainly couldn’t hurt,” he replies.

  I’m still staring up at him, so beautiful in the silver light. I’m happy to see the bruises have already begun to fade and the swelling around his eyes has gone down.

  “I’m really glad you’re here. With me,” I say. “I missed you.”

  Leif brings a hand up to my cheek and strokes it softly. “Me too.”

  An odd swell sends the ship skidding to port. The ale sloshes out of the cup, over my hand. Leif grins naughtily, leans over, and licks it. His tongue on my hand sends shivers down my entire body.

  He winks at me. “Better get this overboard before it’s too late. Together?”

  I nod. “To the sea gods!”

  He places his hand over mine, holding the cup, and together we tip the ale into the sea. The drops of liquid hang suspended for a moment, liquid silver in the moonlight. They tumble down, splashing into the sea, as the globe rises higher against the night sky.

  Leif and I had been offered separate cabins, but we declined, awkwardly. No point in wasting the room, making other crew give up their bunks when he’d just sneak into mine.

  Mrs. Stone, the only other woman on the ship, kindly left a clean nightgown for me to wear. I strip off my clothing, realizing it hasn’t been washed in weeks. I’ll have to do something about that tomorrow.

  I climb into the bunk next to Leif. This bed is larger than I’m used to. Some higher-up crew member
must have given their cabin up for us; it’s nearly as nice as the captain’s. The nightgown hitches up when I crawl under the blanket, and I tug it back down to my knees.

  Leif fingers the frilly strap resting on my shoulder. “Well, this is quite nice.” He’s wearing his mischievous half grin. No guessing what’s on his mind.

  “Don’t get any ideas.” But I can’t help running my hand down the plane of his smooth chest. I touch him gingerly, over the bruises now faded to a dark-yellow color.

  He groans. Closes his eyes. “That’s not helping things, Raven.”

  I kiss his nose. Just a peck. “I know.”

  He opens his eyes, grabs my face. He kisses my mouth hungrily, and I let myself submit to the sensation. It’s truly delicious.

  We pull apart, panting. “This could get out of hand,” I say. “Maybe we should have gotten separate cabins.”

  Leif shakes his head with exaggeration. “No way. No how. I’d break your door down.”

  I kiss him on the nose again, then snuggle my face down against his chest. I feel his breath on my hair. “But I’d never have to do that, once we’re married.”

  I throw my head back, look into his face. “Do we have to have this conversation again? Now?”

  He nods, dreamily. “No, I can wait. I really can. I think.” He winks at me, then presses my head so I’m curled into him again.

  “You’ll be the first to know,” I whisper into his chest.

  “That, I can’t wait for.”

  I smile, remembering all our conversations back on Nuimana. It seems inevitable now that Leif and I will be married.

  Some day.

  When I wake, I find Mrs. Stone has left a clean skirt and blouse for me to wear. They are a little big, so I cinch the clothes with my belt. I go up on deck to find the ship has barely moved. The land is still right there, behind us. The sails hang limply, ruffling when they catch a tiny puff of wind now and again. I look down at the water, at the small bubbles from the ship’s wake floating by. I could swim faster than they are going.