Vale of Tears: A Thalassia novel
Page 5
“I think that we should call this boat the Azzktullua. What do you think?”
He stared at her a long time. “I think.” He paused. “That you will make an excellent queen. The name for the boat is superb.”
Her green eyes flashed at him like emerald ice. “Has all this folksy, seafaring dialect been a put on?”
Diego’s smile widened until it threatened to split his face. “Just so, Dama Jineva.”
“You... you...” She sputtered with anger. “You tricked me, you tricked us all.”
Diego leaned back. “Of course I tricked you. Your father wouldn’t have hired a cultured man as an arms-man and bodyguard. A salty, slightly stupid sea-dog he might.”
“Are you really Diego Giani?”
He stood up and bowed grandly. “Baronet Diego Alphonso Giani, at your service.” He chuckled dryly as he sat. “The title was hereditary, but I do own a few thousand acres on Isla Lemuy. Every square inch is jungle and swamp. Now you see why I hide behind the salty sea dog.” His fingers unconsciously caressed the scar on his cheek.
“I can fix that for you.” Jineva gave him a candid look.
“Oh, heavens, no! The scar is perfect. The injuries to my leg and arm were, however, inconvenient.”
Jineva laughed. “You are still a pirate at heart, Uncle Diego, no matter what your titles, and I still love you.”
His face became serious. “Thank you, Dama.” He brought her small hand to his lips, and kissed the back. “Now you should go to bed. The front berths are reasonably clean—now. Tomorrow we set sail for southern waters.” He grinned as he picked up the dirty dishes. “I’ve dropped the anchor for the night. Considerin’ yer new friends, us’n should be quite safe. Arrghhh.” He gave her a wink and Jineva chuckled at his attempted humor.
Celadon green water slapped roughly at the hull, and a stiff cold wind raised both whitecaps and goosebumps on Jineva’s arms. Despite the lack of a mainsail, the schooner Azzktullua showed her speed with foresail and jibsail, as if the craft itself was anxious to please its new owners. Her hands on the huge ship’s wheel were freezing, but she didn’t care. Ruffling her short hair with icy fingers, the stiff breeze carried her laughter forward to the foremast where Diego was busy tightening a sail.
Sliding easily through the waves, the Azzktullua lived up to her namesake, and a week of relatively smooth sailing found them turning slowly into the protected harbor of Desafortunado. Both Jineva and Diego were looking forward to a hot bath and good meal of something other than fish. Unsurprisingly, the harbor, as most harbors did on the Aztlán Archipelago, smelled of chamberpots and dead fish.
The León del Mar, The Lion of the Sea, was an older three story inn, sitting adjacent to the busy docks and overlooking the even more congested main thoroughfare where sellers hawked their wares and drunken sailors boasted, pushing their way forward through the crowd. The name on the dirty white stone building was scrawled on a faded wooden sign with cracked and peeling paint showing an animal of some sorts leaping out of the sea. Jineva giggled slightly as she noted that the leaping lion looked suspiciously like a goat. The sign moved listlessly on rusting ironwood hinges, making a thin SCREE, SCREE, SCREE sound as it swung in the fitful evening breeze.
The ceiling of the great room was low, supported by thick wooden beams and the walls were festooned with all manner of nautical implements. A huge poorly vented hearth graced one rough stone wall, and flames from the low fire cast flickering light on soot-smudged walls. Gouged and discolored, the wooden floor was filthy and the wall opposite the fire sported a chipped and battered anchor, held to it by thick black ironwood chains. Jineva blinked and rubbed her watering eyes. Pungent smoke from the hearth and a dozen fat pipes almost overwhelmed the smells of burning meat and roasting turnips. Diego, however, only had eyes for the bar, where two depressed looking patrons sat hunched over, nursing tankards of ale.
“I’ll get us a couple of rooms.” His voice was low. “Find a table in the corner, out of the way and I’ll be right back. Try to look like a boy.” He gave her a wink. “You’ll be my nephew Pedro, and we’re out to see the world, and maybe make a little money along the way.” He came back a few minutes later looking worried.
“What’s wrong?” Jineva whispered.
“The rooms were more expensive than I expected. We may have to sleep in the boat after this.”
“I don’t care.” Her voice was hard. “I want a bath, in hot water, and a meal of something other than fish, and a drink of something other than pine needle tea.”
Diego sighed. “I suppose you’re right. We should get you some new clothes too, right after we eat. No sense getting clean, and putting on dirty clothes.” He gave her a sharp look. “No dresses, though. You’ll still have to look like a boy.”
Jineva scowled. She’d had such beautiful clothes, once upon a time. “If you say so, Uncle.”
The meal was as bad as they expected; with overdone meat and slightly burned turnips, but it was something different and that was all that mattered. Diego sat quietly after the dishes had been removed, sipping his ale and puffing his long-stemmed pipe while Jineva, on a bold impulse, had a small cup of sweet strong mead. She regretted it as soon as she stood up, and the whole room began to sway. When Uncle Diego wordlessly took her elbow to help her out the door, she almost said something. Almost.
If it hadn’t been for the pounding in her head, the breakfast of porridge, toast and strong hot tea would have been quite pleasant. Diego sat across from her, shaved and looking especially dapper in his new clothes, sipping a dark steaming drink called café caliente that was made from ground beans of some sort. Stronger than her tea, Jineva wrinkled her nose when she first sipped it.
Diego chuckled. “It’s an acquired taste, but try it with a little cream and sugar.”
She ordered a cup for herself, and made it according to Diego’s directions. Her green eyes widened at the first hesitant sip. “This is good!” She took a longer swallow. “Oh my...”
“I thought...” Diego stopped talking and stared up at the tall, white robed woman who had walked, glided actually, into the room. She seemed wildly out of place in the bedraggled León del Mar.
She looked around the room for a second, spotted the two sitting alone in a corner, and made a beeline straight for them. Her smile showed white, perfectly straight teeth. “Good morning.” The voice was a soft, honey-smooth contralto, and her eyes were an astounding shade of violet. She pushed back the hood of her white robe to reveal long shiny black hair, almost as long as Jineva’s had been before it was cut. “I have a business proposition for you. May I have a seat?” Diego stood, and held her chair as she sat. Jineva was instantly jealous of the woman’s grace and charm, and she was also jealous of the way Uncle Diego looked at her. In the back of her mind Meara chuckled dryly. “I understand that you have a serviceable schooner that might be available for charter.”
Diego leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. “I’m afraid you have been misinformed. The schooner Azzktullua,” the woman in white blinked in surprise at the name, “is in need of repairs and resupply. After that we plan to go to Isla Rivero. It may be some time before...” Reaching beneath her white robe, the woman pulled out a fat leather pouch, dropping it on the table with a loud thump.
“This should more than pay for your repairs, and pay for my passage to Isla de la Luna.”
Diego opened the purse and glanced inside. His face paled and he looked up, placing his right hand over his heart. “Priestess,” he whispered, “there is enough here for you to buy your own boat, let alone hire a battered hulk like ours. Surely there are better people you can hire.” He grudgingly closed the purse and pushed it back toward her. She smiled.
“You’re right. I am Priestess Lorena, of the Temple of Selene in Isla de la Luna, however you are wrong. While I could hire more competent people to get me to my destination, I couldn’t hire better.” Her violet eyes swung to Jineva, and seemed to hold her there against her will—then sw
ung back to the man. The priestess pushed the bag back to Diego with a long slender hand. “I recommend the Guetero Brothers Shipyard. They do reliable work, especially if you mention my name.”
Diego looked stunned and incapable of speech, so Jineva took the necessary steps. “How will we find you once repairs have been completed, and we are resupplied?”
The priestess turned a warm smile on the girl. “I will find you, Dama.” The smile widened at Jineva’s surprise. “I also recommend that you find a better place to stay while you are here. The Fallen Angel, an inn on the other side of the city, is much nicer despite the name. It’s where I stay when I’m here.” She stood and gave them a little bow. “Dama, Baronet Giani.” She stood and turned in one fluid motion.
“Wait!” Diego said sharply. The priestess stopped and turned slightly. “How did you know who we are?”
Her smile was thin and mocking as she glanced across the room at the sullen innkeeper who was grimly wiping a counter with a dirty rag. Without another word she turned, and drifted back out the door.
“Imposing, isn’t she?” Diego chuckled and sipped his now cold café.
“So that was a Priestess of Selene.” Jineva mused. “I felt like she was looking right through me, and could see everything I’ve ever done.” The young woman frowned slightly. “Do they have temples in every city?”
Diego finished the café, and picked up the heavy pouch. “Other than Xolotl, where the priests of Tepoztecam have little tolerance for the goddess, yes.” Smiling down at the fat pouch, he continued. “I’d better put this into the bank.” He dug out three ten peso coins out of his pocket and handed them to Jineva. “For clothes and whatever else you might need. The rest goes to the bank and a down payment to the shipyard.” He started ticking items off on his fingers as they walked out of the door. “New sails, new rigging, rebuild the galley, rebuild all the berths, and caulk the hull.”
“Don’t forget the name on the transom.” Jineva murmured in a hard voice. “It’s important.”
Diego nodded. “Name on the transom, new charts, weapons like swords, knives, bows and arrows.” He grinned down at Jineva, looking years younger. “This is going to be fun. We can head to Isla Rivero after we drop the priestess off. You still want to go home, don’t you?”
Jineva was silent for a long time. “I suppose so. It’ll be difficult not having mother and father or Michan around.”
“You’ll always av me on yer side, missy.” He gave her a slow piratical wink.
Her emerald eyes were serious. “Thank you, Diego.”
~~~
Ángel Caído, The Fallen Angel, was a low slung gracious inn set on the top of a small hill overlooking Desafortunado Harbor. Soft breezes from inland kept the harbor stench from reaching the building and a high adobe wall surrounded the whole complex, making it look somewhat like a fortified castle. Armed men, brandishing swords and crossbows, patrolled the area day and night.
As Diego arranged for their room keys, he quietly asked the proprietor about the heavy security. The innkeeper laughed.
“This is Isla del Diablo, señor.” The man gave Diego a toothy grin. “There are bandits everywhere. The country is filled with bandits.” He wiped his hands on his spotless apron.
“Why do you stay here?” Jineva asked.
The innkeeper gave her a wink. “The country is also filled with money. A smart innkeeper can make a fortune in a few short years.”
“And then retire to a safer place?” She asked softly, eyes sparkling.
“Just so.” The man handed her two small ironwood keys. “If you wish anything, just ask a maid. Dinner will be served in the common room at sunset.”
“Thank you, sir.” Jineva took the keys and gave the man a nod.
At dinner they were led to a small private alcove, where they found Priestess Lorena waiting for them.
“Ahh, Baronet Giani, Dama.” The woman gave a brief nod.
“Please, priestess.” Jineva murmured almost inaudibly. “Call me Pedro.”
“And in this place and time I am known as Uncle Diego, or Capn’ Giani, skipper o’ the schooner Azzktullua. Arrrghh!” He gave her his best seafaring snarl. Jineva tried and failed to stifle her amusement, but Lorena burst out in clear ringing laughter that made heads turn.
“Oh, that is rich. One of the most cultured men in the archipelago posing as an unlettered pirate.” She picked up her napkin to wipe the tears of laughter from her eyes, and the façade of a cold hard priestess was gone, but she quickly became serious. “Why Azzktullua?”
Diego looked uncomfortable. “Pedro saved a little girl. Her name was Azzktullua, and we named the boat after her.”
Lorena studied her fingernails for a moment. “Azzktullua is a Krathaan name.”
Diego gave the priestess a thoughtful look. “You know, I believe you’re right. How about that?” Jineva could have kissed him.
“The Guetero Brothers Shipyard says that you’re having a boarding ladder installed on the stern of your boat.” Violet eyes swept from Jineva to Diego. “Why is that?”
“We might want to stop and go swimming?” Jineva asked hesitantly.
“I don’t think so.” The priestess chuckled softly. “But I won’t pry any more. I have all the answers I need.” She looked at Jineva. “More than enough, really.” Diego sighed in relief. “Shall we order our dinners? The fish here is very good.” Jineva and Diego both shuddered, and Lorena smiled knowingly. “As is the roast prairie chicken with wild rice.” Jineva’s eyes went wide, and her mouth began to water. “The wine here is acceptable, the ale a little less so, the mead a little more so.”
“Don’t matter te an old sea dog like me.” Diego growled, waving a waiter over to their table. Lorena gave Jineva a wink.
The next month passed swiftly. Jineva spent much of her time in the shipyard, watching the men refit the schooner. There was a flurry of excitement at one point, when one workman found a small strongbox secreted beneath the deck in the large aft cabin. Back in the privacy of their rooms, Diego pried it open to discover that the box contained probably four times the amount, in coins and jewels, that the priestess had given them to refit the ship. Her uncle’s face went blank.
“What do you wish to do with this, Dama?” He asked formally.
Jineva looked at the fortune sitting before her. “Put a small bag of money back under the deck in the ship, for emergencies. I’ll take care of the rest.” She gave him a flat smile.
At breakfast the next morning Jineva set the box on the table, and slid it over to the priestess, who raised a single inquiring eyebrow.
“This is blood money, priestess, and we will not spend it. We kept a small part out for emergencies, but that is all. Take the rest, and do something beneficial with it.”
Lorena slowly opened the box, and her violet eyes widened. Jineva could tell that it took several moments for the priestess to regain her composure. “Do you realize how much...”
“No.” Jineva interrupted. “And I don’t care to know. We took out all we needed.”
Lorena took a deep breath, closing the lid on the box. “It will be as you wish. You are a remarkable young... man.” The corner of her mouth twitched up. “I will go and take care of this right now.” Popping a grape into her mouth, she pushed aside the small plate of fruit she’d been nibbling at and stood.
Later that day, as Jineva stood in the corner of the shipyard watching workmen attach a cunningly carved nameplate on the transom of the schooner, the pain hit. Low in her abdomen, it doubled her over.
The calm voice murmured in her mind.
Jineva didn’t join the others for dinner that night, and showed up for breakfast the following morning pale-faced and wobbly.
Diego looked at her with concern. “Are you all right, Pedro?”
She gave him a flat look. “Yes.”
“Is it something you ate? Do we need to find a doctor?” His face was filled with concern.
“It’s a female thing.” Her green eyes were cold, her voice hard.
Diego turned alternately pale and flushed. “Ohhh.”
Lorena put a supportive hand on her arm. “I’ve found that men grow squeamish when women discuss their ‘female’ problems.” Her smile to the girl was warm. “We’ll talk after breakfast. Stick with the tea and porridge.” Jineva gave her a weak smile.
The schooner Azzktullua rolled easily in the light harbor swells. Below decks Diego and Jineva busied themselves loading boxes of provisions, preparing the boat for sea. They would set sail at first light, and Priestess Lorena had assured them that she would be aboard in time.
The boat smelled new. All of the cushions and cloth had been replaced, the central berthing area where the Krathaa had been held was totally gutted and replaced with two spacious berths and a small and efficient looking cargo area, accessed by an overhead hatch in the deck above. New oil lamps cast a warm yellow glow throughout the small boat and Jineva could even see the harbor lights through the new portholes. The stern owner’s cabin had been divided in half for privacy, and small windows in the aft could be swung open in harbor or calm seas. They were open now.