She frowned at him in apparent confusion. He gave her a smug bow and made his way through the crowd to the stairs that led below deck, accepting their back slaps wordlessly though they made his shoulder burn with agony.
As Salvor opened the door to his cabin, Geret hopped off his bunk, looking anxious.
“You all right? What happened?”
Salvor raised his unwounded hand and scrubbed a knuckle along the corner of his mouth. “Let me know if she tries that again. Please.”
Geret saw the gesture, read his smug satisfaction. “You…you kissed her? And she didn’t kill you?”
Salvor raised his eyebrows. “I’m a good kisser.”
Geret rolled his eyes. “So, did you win or lose?”
“Both. I let her beat me in the duel. I’m not interested in controlling the ship. The kiss was just to distract her from punishing me for starting it in the first place.”
“And to distract her from me.”
Salvor looked pleased. “Hence my win.” He stepped over to his bunk and sat down, gingerly working his shirt off. He wrapped his hand in a sleeve and pressed the rest to his shoulder wound.
“I’ll get Meena,” Geret said.
“Before you go, another thought for you.”
“What’s that?”
“So far, you’re only welcome in Rhona’s bed; you’re not required there. You might want to work on keeping it that way, so I don’t have to keep proving how much more manly than you I am.”
Geret opened the cabin door with a jerk. “You just love to make it hard to say thanks, don’t you?”
~~~
The next morning, Sanych cornered Meena after breakfast and demanded to learn some melee weapon skills. “In case I need to hurt something,” she said, and Meena agreed without needing to ask why. She handed the girl two signal flags from the rail of the Princeling and told her to envision them as hand axes.
“Why axes?” Sanych asked.
“They leave bigger scars.”
Sanych’s grin was incandescently wicked.
Chapter Fifteen
“I thought you said it was spring in the northern hemisphere,” Rhona grumped to Meena after a dozen more chill, damp days of tacking back and forth through constant and contrary winds. Though they sat at the table in Rhona’s cabin, her hair was still damp from her recent time on deck.
“It is spring.”
“I’d hate to see your autumn storms, then. I’ve already lost two ships.” Rhona poured herself a cup of hot tea, drinking it in time with the waves that rocked the Princeling.
“Spring is normally warm and mild in Shanal. It’s likely that all that ash from Heren Garil Sa has disturbed the planet’s normal weather patterns.”
“What?” Rhona asked, wrinkling her nose in disbelief.
“Either that,” Meena continued, “or the cult is just trying to sink the entire expedition again.”
“Oh, is that all?” Rhona asked, turning down the corners of her mouth. “I’m looking forward to giving these arrogant fools a good poking with my sword.”
“You’ll get your chance. Those eager for bloodshed often leave healthy caution behind in battle.”
“It’s not bloodshed I’m after; it’s payback for what they’ve done to Geret’s cousin! If it were Ruel under a spell of madness—”
“Your generous support of Geret’s cause is indeed admirable, as is your loyalty to your own blood,” Meena said. “However, your treatment of him leads me to question your motives.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Seamother. I’ve done nothing out of line with Clan custom. Everything’s square.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your execution of the claim. Its mere existence is what concerns me.”
Rhona’s brows lowered. “Is this the part where you tell me that he was destined to go home and marry a certain tiny blonde and now I’ve gone and ruined his life? Shall I wait whilst you compose a Lay for me?”
Meena snorted. “Hardly. Your actions to date aren’t nearly heroic enough to merit acceptance into the Lays.” She leaned forward across the table. “You got Geret drunk and tricked him into accepting the first kiss of your claim, then blackmailed him into agreement once he knew what you were after…although I’m pretty sure you’ve still left some pertinent facts out. He doesn’t know about Blood Loyalty yet, does he? Or the Delay?”
Rhona looked away.
Meena sighed. “Now, I’m not saying your actions weren’t clever and determined. They were. However, keep in mind that Geret isn’t Clan. He’s from a culture whose respect for clever, determined manipulation isn’t the same as yours. Worse, I have to be the one to tell you this, because you didn’t care enough about him to learn it for yourself.”
“You’re wrong; he and I are very alike! You haven’t seen us together. He’s a trickster through and through, and by the time we get to Shanal, he’ll be begging me to let him sail away with us when we leave.”
Meena sat back and shook her head with a smile. “Ah, Rhona. I see now why the Prime of Agonbloom sent you out here.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” the pirate grumbled.
“Everything. Just like the reason he hasn’t bedded you. There’s more to it than you know. More than you’ve bothered to learn, so intent on your own goals are you. How long has it been since you claimed him? Five, six weeks now? Yet despite all your kisses, all your traditional claim acts, and enough gleaming swag to sink him straight to the deeps should he fall overboard, he’s slept chastely in his own cabin every night since you welcomed him to yours.”
Rhona’s jaw clenched for a moment. “Why do you care? It’s not like you want to claim him.”
“I think the real question is, why don’t you care? The Clans aren’t the only successful culture in the world. If you have any feeling for Geret beyond what an alliance with him can bring you, then you need to embrace a truth beyond your own horizons, and deal with its implications for your plans. Talk to the boy. He has reasons for his actions, just as you do.”
“He’s not a boy.”
Meena gave her a knowing smirk. “The People of the Frost in Gen Ka Bin would say otherwise.”
~~~
That night, Rhona had the galley prepare a luscious supper for everyone at her table. Her feet flirted with Geret’s under the table, and she plied him with sweet mead raided from an outbound Byarran vessel several weeks before she’d reached Salience. He spoke politely and easily with her, but there was no smoldering passion in his eyes.
At the end of the evening, she bade him join her in her cabin that night, in front of all her officers and guests. He courteously agreed, as per their arrangement, and her heart thrilled.
When they were alone in her cabin, Geret prepared to curl up and go straight to sleep once again. As he snuggled onto her lightly swinging bed, she eased one thigh over its edge and stopped its motion. Better to start with my confession, then ask him why he’s avoiding his duty, she reasoned.
“Geret,” she began, “I haven’t been completely honest with you about the claim.”
He rolled onto his back and looked at her.
“It’s because you’re not Clan. I wanted to ease you into it all. I can tell you’re not used to the same life as I am. And I never figured you’d find me so horrible that you wouldn’t bed me, so it didn’t seem like an issue.”
He started to protest. “That’s not it at—”
“Just let me explain, please?” She waited until he nodded. “A Clan claim doesn’t only require loyalty to the woman’s bloodline. I mean, it asks exactly that; there’s just more to it than that. Full loyalty to a bloodline includes giving it an heir.”
Geret’s eyes widened.
“That’s what I’m—what everyone’s—expecting of you. Blood Loyalty is the final result of a successful Clan claim. I want to bring you into my bloodline, to make it stronger. To give Agonbloom an even better future, and make us greater than we are even now.”
“Rhona, I’m not sure you understand my—”
“No, there’s no rush.” She smiled patiently. “Clan women have a special ability called the Delay. After we’ve been with our claimed man, we can choose whether or not to begin pregnancy right away. Sometimes months pass if we’re engaged in a clan war or a long-term raiding mission, before it’s safe enough to begin pregnancy. When we decide it’s safe, we let the baby start growing.”
“So you want a child…for later?” Geret struggled to grasp the concept.
“I want your child, for later. After we’re home from Shanal, things should be calm enough to have the baby. Once I’ve established that I’m capable of producing an heir, then I’ll gain a lot more support against my mother for my bid at Clan Prime.” She let out a long sigh. “I never figured I’d have trouble getting bedded. You seemed so eager when we started this.”
Geret propped himself up on an elbow and met her eyes. “I appreciate your honesty, even if it’s a little late. If we’d had this conversation six weeks ago… But we didn’t. You just assumed you knew everything you needed to about me. I’m not going to bed you, Rhona, not now, and not ever. You’ve deceived and tricked me, and where I come from, that’s no way to treat someone you want children with. Keep making up whatever stories you need to for your crew about the baby we’re not going to have. It sounds like you’ve got several months leeway before anyone even gives it a second thought. But we’re not doing this. I’m not doing this.”
Her eyes blazed in the dimness. “You don’t need to come with me back to Agonbloom. I’ll release you to return home with your people after the Tome’s destroyed, if that’s what you want. But your child can be a part of the most powerful Sea Clan in all of history. Surely you won’t say no to that!”
Geret sat up. After a long moment, he swallowed and said, “I shouldn’t have agreed to stay here again. I’ll go sleep in my own cabin.”
Rhona grasped his hand as he began to slip over the bed’s edge. Disbelief edged her vision in pale, jerky yellow. “You’re really turning me down. All of it: the power, the legacy, the exciting life we could have together?”
He looked at her, brows lowered.
Rage pressed against the backs of her eyes, but she clenched her teeth and waited for it to pass. Yelling at him as if he were a common sailor would only make things worse. In her confusion and hurt, she was at a loss for another persuasive argument, but she knew that if he left the cabin, the crew would notice.
“No, please stay. Please. I…I just wanted to be fully honest with you, because I care about you. I see now that you’re not interested, but I hope you’ll not go back on your word to keep up appearances for the crew, especially now.”
He sighed through his nose, turned his head away from her. “No. I’ll not go back on my word.” He slipped off the edge of the bed and turned to face her. “But I’ll not share a bed with you anymore, under any circumstances.” He stepped through the red silk curtain, and she heard him sit in one of the chairs around the table. Wood creaked as he found a comfortable position.
Rhona sat on the edge of her bed for a long time, but Geret didn’t return. Soon, his snores began to buzz around the room. Another flash of rage burned through her, and she considered using her claim favor to compel him to act. It fizzled quickly, however, leaving her discontented. Using claim favors to compel a man to bed was only one step up from being rejected by him outright—a circumstance she refused to acknowledge, since there were still many more days until the Shanallese coast made an appearance on the horizon. She desperately wanted him to join with her of his own volition. Yet now her own quest’s outcome was looking grim indeed.
~~~
Hours passed, and the depth of night wrapped the Princeling in a shroud of cold rain. Unable to sleep because of the ache deep in her chest, Rhona eased out of bed. She picked up a wool blanket and slipped past Geret, his head pillowed on his arms on the table. Leaving her cabin, she padded barefoot down the short corridor. As she passed into the crew’s common sleeping chamber, festooned with brightly colored hammocks and mats, she paused and stared at the men and women who served aboard her ship, happily ensconced in slumber. Jealous, she turned and climbed the stairs to the upper deck.
In the blustery night, the winds whipped through the rigging and a light, stinging rain flung itself nearly horizontally across the deck. The insistent cold was a nice distraction.
It didn’t last long, though. She slipped along the rail to a corner next to the castle wall, then crouched down, out of the rain. Silently, her shoulders began to shake, and she cried onto the blanket edge that covered her forearms. Her beloved Princeling rocked her as it climbed and descended the endless sea swells.
If only I had never loved him! she lamented. But I do. I can’t stop needing him, even when he completely rejects me. Why can’t I be more like my mother?
As she looked across the deck, a hand swung into view, offering a champagne bottle in its grip. She looked up and saw Salvor, his dark hair loose and wet. She took the bottle from him and drank. Handing it back, she asked, “You following me?”
“Currently, yes.”
“Why?”
“I heard your cabin door open.”
“You thought I was Geret?” she asked over the howl of the wind.
He paused before replying. “I try not to assume. I followed you up to see what was going on.”
“Don’t you sleep?”
He grinned, teeth glimmering in the dark. “I was asleep. So what are you doing up here?”
She shook her head, a bitter expression on her face. “Geret hates me.”
“Geret, hate you? No. He’s not that good a liar.”
“How do you know?”
Salvor grinned again, a more predatory showing of teeth. “I’m better at it than he is.”
Her shoulders slumped under her wet blanket, and her braids dripped as she lowered her head. “This in-between existence is driving me mad. He’s so close to me, yet he’ll never come any closer. In fact, he’s backing away.”
Salvor put his free hand on her shoulder. “I’m not going to ask how close you got, but I can tell you this: he’s an odd egg, even by Vinten standards, and he’s a prince now on top of everything else. He’s got certain duties he simply can’t ignore.”
Meena’s mysterious comment came to her mind, and she locked her gaze onto his. “Tell me what that means.”
He frowned. “Hasn’t Geret already told you?”
“Told me what?”
“Idiot.”
Rhona blinked.
“Him, not you,” Salvor amended. He licked rain from his lips. “How about I explain in my cabin, where it’s warm and dry, and the rain’s not diluting the champagne?”
Rhona agreed, and they descended again. Once they were inside his cabin, he lit the lamp from the slow-burning night wick. He took her wet blanket from her and pulled free the one on Geret’s bunk. She took it from him and wrapped it around her shoulders, then sat on Salvor’s bed, her curls dripping. He handed her the bottle, then wrapped a small towel around his loose hair and squeezed it a few times. Turning his back to her, he began to take off his wet shirt.
“We Vintens get indoctrinated on the teachings of Wisdom from the cradle,” he said, pulling off the wet linen.
His torso was lean and hard. Rhona watched his muscles flex as he retrieved a dry shirt from the small trunk at the foot of his bunk. “What do you mean, ‘teachings of wisdom’?”
He turned to face her, pale green shirt in hand. “Things that we do or don’t do as a culture, depending on what the long-term effects will be. Meats must get to market quickly so the people don’t eat spoiled food, get sick and lose efficiency at their work. Roads are planned out before buildings are constructed, so that travel within towns is efficient. And when the Magister’s Dictat council decides they want Vint to become an empire for the betterment of all Cyrmant, they not only use spies to see how easily neighboring countries would submit, but t
hey also try to recruit a new, like-minded leader to replace the Magister, because they know the current leader will choose to step down to avoid bloodshed. “
Rhona blinked. “A…Vinten empire?”
Salvor smirked. “Their plans were interrupted, though, and on top of that, Geret turned them down. Do you begin to see how Vint thinks now?”
“Geret…? Aye, I see. Seems like a lot of extra work to me, though.” She frowned. Seems Geret’s in the habit of turning down a lot of good things.
“In Geret’s case,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head and sitting on the other end of the bunk, “he’s constrained by the tenet which advises that we only bed those we plan to have children with.”
Rhona’s mouth opened. “But that’s…”
“Now sure, even Vintens ignore this advice sometimes; we’re only human, after all. Some of us more than others.” He lifted one side of his mouth at her. “But for Geret, it’s a much larger part of his life than for the average Vinten.”
“But that’s exactly what claiming is about. The daughter of a Vinten prince would make an excellent leader for the next generation of Clan Agonbloom. You say he doesn’t despise me, but he was pretty clear with his rejection of the concept earlier. He didn’t even tell me why.” She crossed her arms with a pretty pout, and the blanket slipped off her shoulders.
“Simply put, by following this tenet, he’s protecting his country and his family from future conflict.”
She frowned. “I don’t follow.”
“Imagine that he does let you complete your claim and gives you that daughter, whether he stays with you for a year or not. Twenty years from now, will his wife and children back home in Vint be pleased when a rogue bastard princess who was raised by the lawless Sea Clans suddenly shows up, demanding her rightful place in the royal family?”
Rhona’s eyebrows shot up. “I’d be royalty by association, wouldn’t I?”
Salvor paused at her interested tone, then continued, “Or, said bastard royal shows up with an army of Agonbloom Clansfolk, promising them the riches of an entire kingdom if they help kill the rightful ruler and install Geret’s daughter as their own puppet Magister.”
Oathen Page 15