She took the cup out of his hand and took a long swallow, before she dumped the used pine needles in the fire and refilled the cup with fresh water for another cup of tea. Her emerald eyes met Diego’s brown eyes unafraid. “Michan died when we were only a mile or so from the shore. He looked at me, and then he was gone. I tried to swim ashore when I was closer, but I was so tired. I hit the rocks and it was the last I remembered. I woke up in a prison cell.” She hadn’t planned on telling Uncle Diego the whole story, but it all came out in a rush of words and tears. She told him everything, in exquisite, excruciating detail. Diego made another cup of tea after she had consumed the second all by herself.
He exclaimed once, briefly, when she mentioned her K’ Dreex companion. Other than that, he listened to the rest of the story without comment. “And then what happened?” His normally gruff voice was gentle now, and soothing to Jineva who was, despite everything that had happened to her, still a very young woman.
She looked up, over knees clasped tightly to her chest. “Then I saw your fire. You know the rest, but I have to know one thing. How did you know I was coming, and have time to hide?”
Diego laughed. “I didn’t know ye were coming, girl. I wuz settin’ a trap for whoever might fall into it, preferable Kratz. I planned te kill him befer he killed me.” He flexed his left hand and looked up. “I might not av succeeded, but I’d a tried.”
She looked into the fire for some time. “Kratz is dead, and you are better. What do we do now? Where do we go?”
Her uncle smoothed a spot in the sand next to the fire, and began to draw with a thin stick. It was a rough but serviceable map of Isla del Diablo, showing a foot long kidney shape for the island bisected by a squiggly line running north/south representing the mountains. A deep V-shaped slash on the west side of the island running from the edge to the squiggly line of mountains was the Vale of Tears. “We’re here, at the mouth of the Vale River.” The stick stabbed down. “The city of Xolotl is here.” The stick touched again, a scant finger-width from the first mark. “About twenty miles inland and on the same side of the river.” The stick moved again, until it was almost on the south end of the island, nestled close to both the mountains and the sea. “This is the city of Desafortunado. We should be able to find a ship there that will carry us back to Isla Rivero. Like yer father said, Carlos an Amanda Salvana, yer uncle and aunt, should know more once we gets ye home.”
Jineva studied the map carefully. It was such a long way to go, and they had so little. “Doesn’t it cost a lot to take passage on a ship?”
Diego sighed. “Yes it does, Jineva.” He reached in his pants pocket and pulled out three coins; two small and one medium denomination, looking at them wryly. “This’l not git us far.”
Jineva pulled out a small leather pouch that had been tied to her belt, and tossed it to Diego. “This may help.” The man’s eyebrows crawled up as he counted one large, three medium and six small denomination coins.
“This might do it.” His dark eyes looked up at her. “Did your father...?”
“No.” Her answer was curt. “I got those coins from the guard who fell, from Kurtz and the few I brought from the boat. The coins my father gave us were lost with my brother.” She found that if she said it quickly it didn’t hurt so much.
Uncle Diego had a thoughtful look on his weathered face. “You came in a small boat. Does it have a sail?”
She shook her head. “No, but it did at one time. There are fittings for a mast.”
The man nodded, a little smile on his face. “I have me a piece of canvas in the shack I was usin’ as a blanket befer ye came. We can fashion a mast and sail, and tiller from the wood of the shack. It may take us a few days, but we have food and safety here. The patrols of the high priest stick to the beaches mostly, so there’s no rush and Desafortunado isn’t going anywhere.”
A smile touched Jineva’s lips.
Working on the sail, mast and tiller proved physically challenging for Jineva who had, thanks to her position, always had things done for her. But she worked as hard as she was able, discovering that the labor helped her to forget her losses, for a time. When they finally cast off a week later, Jineva was surprised to find that she could again think of her family without breaking down into tears. The hurt was still there, but she was learning to deal with it. Other things, and not all of them bad, had occurred since then.
The north wind had a chill bite to it, when they finally pushed off and turned the bow of the small boat toward the ocean. Jineva was glad she had bundled and taken all the spare clothing she could find. She wore Kratz’s old woolen shirt like a coat now, buttoning the collar up tight, but still she was cold. Her teeth were chattering as she scooped water out of the bottom of the small craft with a hollowed bann fruit nut. It would be months before the summer sun would warm the water to more acceptable levels. Finally clearing the mouth of the Vale River, Diego turned the bow of the small boat to the south. The deep swells out beyond the breakers made Jineva queasy, and she gripped the gunwale tightly with slightly blue fingers, trying not to lose her meager lunch over the side.
“Is it always so rough?” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the snap of the canvas and the hiss of the waves.
“This ain’t nuttin’.” Diego never took his eyes from either the green frothing water or the small shaky mast. “It’s just cuz the boat’s so small. We feelz ever ripple.” Jineva said a foul word and Diego laughed. “Now yer beginnin’ te sound like a sailor too.” The small boat sped on and, finally, as the sun touched the western horizon turning the entire ocean a burnished gold under the golden Thalassian rings above; they headed for shore, a warm fire and a good meal. Jineva had managed to catch a half dozen fat fish as Diego sailed and now they hung from the stern just waiting for the campfire. The boat almost swamped once or twice, coming through the breakers until Diego remembered the secret of riding the waves with the small boat. After that it was somewhat easier.
Sitting on the beached and overturned boat after dinner, Jineva stared out over the sparkling water. The wind had died to a mere zephyr, and the light from Medin, the white moon, was full and bright, while Elysium, blue and half the size of Medin, was waning gibbous. The reflection from the Thalassian rings turned the calm ocean to a sea of glittering blue/white fire. Sights like that never ceased to take her breath away.
The sound was like a marble being dropped into still deep water, and she turned her head slowly, staring into the darkness, squinting.
The shadows disappeared, and the night turned to a sort of monochromatic daylight. A small head had appeared out of a deep rocky tide pool, and Jineva held out her open hands to show that she wasn’t a threat. Dark eyes watched her for several minutes, before sliding back under water, and she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
The second day was the same as the first, and the third. The sealkie never reappeared to Jineva, and she was vaguely disappointed, while at the same time relieved. It was about noon on the fourth day when Uncle Diego nudged Jineva with his foot, waking her from a light doze as she leaned against the mast.
“We have a boat ahead, out a mile or so. She looks to be adrift. Should we check it, or continue on?” It was the first time her uncle had ever asked her decision about something this important. Frowning, she thought quickly.
“We check it, but we stay on our guard. The people aboard may need help.” Diego shrugged and turned the tiller.
The drifting boat was a two masted, fore-and-aft rigged schooner, fifty to sixty feet long. She had
seen rough weather, and the mainsail was in tatters. The name on the transom had been carried off by the weather, and the green paint on her hull was chipped and peeling. Rigging hung dangling over the sides, and she sat low in the water under gray lowering skies.
Diego cupped his hands to his mouth. “Schooner ahoy!” His shout echoed dully across the water as they drifted closer. With a week’s growth of beard, and the purple slash on his cheek, he looked every bit the traditional pirate. “Schooner ahoy, we’re boarding!” Jineva, in the bow, reached for a dangling line, and pulled their little craft closer. The two hulls touched with a dull clunk, and Jineva heard a familiar mewling sound coming from below decks.
“Diego! There are sealkies aboard. I heard that same sound when I found the injured one.” She scrambled over the side and onto the deck of the schooner, and Diego tied off the small boat with a curse.
Catching her by an arm before she could go dashing off, he gave her a hard look. “You stay on deck, young lady. I’ll check out below decks, and tell you if it’s safe to come down.”
Jineva thought that she was about to explode, but took a deep breath and nodded. “OK, Uncle, but hurry.”
Diego disappeared down the small aft companionway, making his way forward to what would have been a central berthing area. Unsealing a locked door, he swung it open and the smell almost made his hardened stomach turn. Nine sealkies were lashed to the wall, while a tenth, small and merely a child, lay in the cold water sloshing on the floor. It had been slashed across the chest but despite the green skin, the blood dribbling into the scuppers was as red as his. From the depth of the wound Diego guessed it was delivered with a knife and not a sword. The thin mewling came from this creature. He turned and bolted for the deck.
“Jineva, I think you had better...” The words died in his mouth as his eyes took in the four adult sealkies facing the empty handed Jineva.
Her voice sounded strained. “I’ve already found them, Uncle Diego.” The four heads turned instantly to face Diego, and the largest hissed in alarm. “Drop your sword, Uncle.”
“What!” The big man exclaimed in a shocked voice. “I don’t...”
“Drop it, or we’re both dead; as dead as the crew of this schooner.” The sword hit the deck with a clunk, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The leader swiveled his head from the dropped sword to her.
“You... friend?” The voice was a whistling hiss, barely understandable. It held her unmoving with its black eyes.
“Yes.” She swallowed, hoping it was the right answer.
“You save Drktttluk.” It wasn’t a question, and she looked up to see a small head peeping over the side of the schooner rail. One of the left arms still showed a puckered hole from where the arrow had been. It slowly winked its left eye at her.
“Yes, I did. I am happy that it is well.”
“He is well.” The hissing voice replied, then pointed toward the deck at their feet. “You help.”
Jineva groaned, turned and headed for the companionway. The large sealkie had to bend almost in half to enter the small room where the others were held, and when he saw them he hissed again, his hands tightening around the hilt of his knife in his fury. His wail of anguish as he saw the small body on the floor cut across all species lines, and simply reflected a parent’s grief at seeing his child hurt. He spun on Jineva, grabbing her by the arm, lifting her from the floor.
“You help! You help!” Small green hands slowly forced his arm down, and Jineva’s feet finally touched the floor. Drktttluk rattled off a few rapid-fire words to what was obviously his father, and the big sealkie let Jineva go. The black eyes of the father caught her again. “You help... please.”
All the sealkies hissed warnings when Jineva drew her knife, but she ignored them and began cutting the bonds of their imprisoned comrades. The father barked an order and knives flashed. In a moment all the sealkies were hobbling out of the berth, except one. Jineva picked up the limp form, as she had picked up Drktttluk two weeks earlier, and slowly carried it up to the main deck, where the once imprisoned sealkies were being helped over the side of the boat. Gently, she lowered the small form to the deck, took off her woolen shirt and, making a crude pillow, placed it under the creature’s head.
The big sealkie touched her shoulder, and she looked up. “Azzktullua. Daughter.” He nodded to the small figure.
Jineva returned. She took a deep breath, and began concentrating.
A seagull was sitting on the top of the mast, looking down on her when she opened her eyes, and the sun was a finger’s width from touching the horizon. She lay there for a moment, breathing in the odor of the sea, and relaxing to the sway of the boat. Beneath her she could hear a rhythmic clunking from a hand pump, and the splash that told her the bilges of the schooner were being pumped dry.
She sat up, and the deck swayed even more than usual. The wadded shirt she had used on Azzktullua had been placed under her own head and she slipped it on, grateful for its warmth. Diego was deep in the almost dry bilges when she arrived, just securing the last pieces of the pumps. He gave her a slow smile.
“Leave it to my Niña Chiquita to skip out on all the really hard work.” He laughed, and swept her up in a bear hug. “You did good. Very, very good. Your parents would have been proud. Hell, they would have been amazed, just like me.”
She returned a wide grin. “That’s nice, Uncle, but do we have anything to eat? I’m very hungry. I burned up a LOT of energy healing that little girl.”
“Well...” Diego looked up at the ceiling. “I did find some salt pork and potatoes and onions in the galley.” He chuckled. “A pot o’ fish chowder is on the stove in the galley.” Her eyes lit up. “Leave me some, at least.” She laughed over her shoulder as she left.
Chapter 4
“Krathaa.”
“What?” Jineva looked up from her chowder as Diego sat down across from her, ladling himself a steaming bowl full.
“Krathaa.” He said again, grinning. “That’s what the sealkies call theyselves.” He took a spoonful of the chowder and shut his eyes in pleasure. “That’s what little Azzktullua said, anyway. She be really taken with you. Jineva.” He paused, his expression going serious. “Who woulda thought that a race we’ve always considered beasts, could be better people than us inside.”
Jineva ladled herself another bowl. “Not better, just different. How did you ever understand the girl? I could barely make out what her father said.”
Diego chuckled. “She speaks our lingo better than me, which ain’t hard.”
“I was hoping to see her brother, Drktttluk again.” Jineva murmured regretfully.
Diego smiled. “Azzktullua said that he is doing so well her father is sending him off to what they call The Blue Water School, to learn to be a grown up.” The big man looked around the small cabin, caressing a sturdy bulkhead. “This be a nice, well build boat. She’ll git us te Desafortunado in style.”
The young woman gave him a speculative look. “If we were to take our money and use it to repair this schooner, we could sail to Isla Rivero ourselves. No matter where we needed to go, we would always have this boat.”
“Yer as bold as yer father, and as smart and wise as yer mother.” Diego gave her a half sad, half wistful look and suddenly, as if a light had come on, Jineva knew the reason.
“You loved my
mother, didn’t you?” Her voice was low and serious.The man’s brown eyes studied her, and she could see the hurt that lay hidden there. “Aye, I loved yer mother, may the gods prick me. I’ve loved her fer years, since yer father assigned me as her guard back before Michan was even born.” His eyes fell to the table. “I met yer father about twenty years back. I was talking business with a friend of mine named Isabela. Her business,” Diego blushed slightly and continued quickly. “was in Soledad, down close to the harbor and just below Castle Barillo. Your father just happened to be there that night. A group of men said some insulting things to my friend, and I took offence. Your father was so impressed that I bested six men that he offered me a job as his personal bodyguard.” Diego chuckled. “It was a lark. I took the job because I had nothing better to do at the moment yer see.” His smiling face fell. “Then I met yer mother.” He shrugged, taking another bite of chowder. “That was twenty years ago, like I said. Don’t get me wrong, girl. I was just er bodyguard, fer all they knew, an I thought I’d die when I saw her lyin’ there on the deck, leakin er life out. I telled her as she lay there, what I felt fer her, and may the gods forgive me, she looked at me and smiled. Then she died.” A single tear hit the table, and Jineva’s eyes widened. Her uncle wiped roughly at his cheek then sniffing, rubbed his nose on his shirt sleeve. “Look at me.” He grumbled roughly, cheeks reddening. “Weepin’ like a silly girl.”
Jineva reached across the small table and put her hand on his. “If it’s any consolation, Uncle Diego. I love you too.”
The man flushed deeper red. “I’ve enjoyed watching you grow up, Niña Chiquita. You were always the brightest of the whole lot.” His voice dropped to a whisper that Jineva missed in the slap of waves on the hull. “I couldn’ have been more proud of you if...” Diego set the spoon down and looked away. “Oh Gods I miss you Livia.”
Vale of Tears: A Thalassia novel Page 4