by Rebecca Rode
“Thanks for covering for me,” a voice said a second later.
I whirled to find the boy crouched behind a discarded coil of line. His too-perfect grin widened at my startled expression.
Why had I covered for him? I silently cursed his pretty face and resolved to be more careful. “I’m not doing it again, so you can be on your way.”
He shot a glance at the disappearing guard. “Look, I’m desperate or I wouldn’t be pursuing this. Here are the facts. One, there are no other ships going to Ellegran. Just yours. Two, I need to get there as quickly as possible.”
“The Mum’s Commoner over there is headed for the islands and balmy weather,” I shot back. “I’m sure they’d stumble over themselves to serve a lordling throwing gold around.”
“This isn’t a vacation, and I already told you I’m not a lord. I need to get to Ellegran, and no, I’m not telling you why.”
“And bring the guards down upon us for helping a fugitive? No thanks.”
“I’ll join the crew, then. I heard about the men you lost to these Belza rumors.”
That made me pause. We’d lost men? I resented how much he knew that I didn’t. “One sailor isn’t worth the risk, especially one with no experience.” His smooth hands and pale skin screamed shoreman.
He sighed, all good nature gone from his expression. “A bargain, then. Smuggle me aboard, and I won’t tell anyone you’re a girl.”
My head snapped up. All sound on the docks went hollow, and the ground lurched beneath my feet. Had he just said…?
In a second, my knife was at his throat. My grip was wobbly, but I hoped the venom in my voice made up for that. “What did you just call me?”
The lordling looked exasperatingly unworried. “Now that I have your attention, let’s go aboard and discuss this.”
“I will not be threatened.” My voice sounded choked.
“Relax. It wasn’t a threat. Well, fine, it was a threat. But this position doesn’t look good for either of us, so if you wouldn’t mind…” He nodded toward the dock, where several workers had paused to watch. Lands. This was not a conversation I wanted remembered.
“Follow me,” I growled, and stomped up the gangplank. He followed more gingerly.
I led the boy straight to the captain’s quarters and shoved open the door, wincing as the inset glass rattled. The room was empty, the table clear of its usual maps and contracts, its two ornate chairs tucked neatly beneath. Father was likely still trying to secure that loan for supplies. I pulled the boy inside, letting the door close sharply behind him, and raised the knife toward him once more. “How did you know Captain Garrow is my father?”
“I didn’t,” he admitted, eyeing the blade. “I saw you both talking this morning. When he turned me down, I followed you into town. It wasn’t long before I lost you in the crowd. But then at the execution, there you were.” His mouth twisted. Whether his distaste was for the hanging or the woman who’d died, I couldn’t be sure. “I realize what I’m asking might bring more trouble on you and the captain, but I promise to make it worth your while. I can tell you’re a good person. You wouldn’t have lied to that guard if you weren’t.”
I mentally kicked myself. “And you wouldn’t have threatened to turn me in if you were.”
“We need each other. That’s all I’m saying. Show me where to hide, and you can keep your secret.”
“And you’ll do what, stay there for three weeks? You have no food, no water.” No baggage either. His flight from the guards had been a sudden one. A curiosity I couldn’t help crept up on me, but I refused to ask what he’d done to bring the entire city’s guard down upon him. The less we knew about each other, the better.
“I’m certain you’ll take good care of me. The crew doesn’t know your secret, do they? Surely you want to keep it that way.”
I almost dropped the knife that I’d forgotten I was holding. How dare he? If Father discovered my secret was out, I’d be off the ship the second we docked in Ellegran. “I’m no chambermaid. I take care of no one, and I refuse your bargain.”
He looked genuinely surprised. “Pardon?”
“Hiding you is a terrible idea. You’d be discovered within a day. But since I obviously can’t let you go either, you’ll remain tied up until after we leave. Then I’ll toss you over the rail and you can take your chances with the jardrakes.” I paused. “Either that, or I can convince the bosun, Dennis, to let you sign on as an inexperienced recruit—which I may be willing to do for the right price.” My voice was surprisingly calm for the turmoil I felt inside. I had the advantage here. I couldn’t let it slide through my fingers.
He examined me for a long moment. I stared right back, trying to look like the kind of person who would follow through on such a threat. His gray eyes finally grew guarded. “How much?”
“Six hundred gold pieces.”
It was an entire year’s wages for the whole crew. An exorbitant amount, utterly unthinkable. I half expected him to throw a tantrum and stalk away.
To my surprise, he only frowned. “I’ll give you four hundred.”
Four hundred. How much did this boy carry? I cleared my throat to cover my surprise. “Six hundred. Feeding a crew for three weeks is expensive. If my father fails to secure his loan, your money will ensure we can still leave. And if you want me to keep you a secret from my father, I’ll have to invent some kind of cargo so he doesn’t ask questions.”
“Four fifty,” he said. “You nearly bowled me over in the road and refused to apologize.”
“And you chased me down. Quite rudely, in fact. Five hundred, final offer.”
“Fine.” He removed a bag from his pocket. Only the rich carried bags of coins around—it was too hard to disguise how much one had. The clever ones hid pouches throughout their layers of clothing. He plucked out a few coins before stuffing them into his pocket. Then he handed me the entire bag. “Deal. And call me Aden.”
I hid a smile as I accepted it. Five hundred gold coins. I’d never seen such wealth in my life, let alone held it in my hands. I imagined myself sprinting toward town to buy ten shirts and another pair of boots. My axes could finally get the proper sharpening they needed. Lands, I could buy my own percentage of a ship if I wanted.
Aden’s amused smile was back. I’d been grinning at the bag like a fool. He might be desperate, but he was still nobility. I had to be more careful.
I cleared my throat. “You’ll sign the book as soon as the bosun returns.” This solved several problems. These coins would buy our supplies and ensure we could leave tomorrow. The farther we got from Hughen, the safer Father would feel. The biggest problem now was keeping this stranger’s secret so he would keep mine. This voyage had to go perfectly. I didn’t like it at all, but the journey to Ellegran was only three weeks. I’d told far worse lies in my lifetime.
I gave my knife a last flick for good measure before shoving it back into its sheath, watching with satisfaction as Aden flinched and followed the blade with his eyes.
“As enjoyable as it is to stand here,” Aden said, giving the cabin one last look, “perhaps we’d best get below.”
An urge to snap at him overcame me, but I shook it off. If Father walked in and caught us here, there would be no bargain at all. I swung the door open. “Follow me. And be quick about it.”
I showed Aden the cargo hold first, pointing out the empty holdings where barrels and crates were usually stacked. Then I showed him the gun deck, its heavy guns secured and gleaming. Our powder, all four barrels of it, was stored in a forward magazine for safety. I didn’t point out the locked cabinet that stored our muskets and pistols. The lordling’s money may have bought him passage, but it didn’t buy my trust. Not even close.
I showed him the galley on the far end, where Paval was already at work preparing dinner for the returning men, then gestured to the crew’s quarters behind the bulkhead. “This is where you’ll sleep.” There were usually sailors lying about, enjoying a few winks before their next
watch. But today the crew was ashore, enjoying the leave they didn’t know had been cut short.
“You never told me your name.”
I hesitated, but he’d have discovered it soon enough. “Lane Garrow.”
“Pleasure.” His reply was suspiciously cheerful. Aden, if that was really his name, eyed the hammocks slung wherever there was space. “You fit how many men in here?”
“Sixty-five. They sign on for a year at a time. Some stay the full three they’re allowed.”
“Allowed?”
“My father likes to rotate his crew often. Keeps them from getting too comfortable. Except the officers.” And Paval, of course. As my father’s friend, he’d been here the longest. Dennis and Kempton followed at four and two years, respectively.
Aden nodded, but his lips twisted in distaste as he scanned the room. I frowned. It was cluttered, true, but the bulkheads and decks were scrubbed every single day. He wouldn’t find a cleaner ship on the northern seas.
“Two watches of thirty-two men each,” I said. “You’ll be on the first watch under Dennis, so I can train you. The gun master and second officer, Kempton, oversees the other watch. You’ll meet him later.” Much later, if I had my way. Kemp wouldn’t be sober till the moment we left, if then. “Now, let’s fix your disguise.”
He frowned at his clothes. “This will work fine.”
I ignored his objection and strode to a crate in the far corner. The lid opened with a sharp whine. We had to close it tight because of the rats. They’d chew right through cloth if you let them. They’d eat anything when they got hungry enough. Kind of like people, but those stories weren’t often told.
“What’s in there?” he asked, eyeing the box warily.
“Clothes nobody else wanted. You won’t convince the crew with that pretty shirt.” Father would also remember the boy who’d asked for passage, new shirt or not. Thankfully I had an explanation prepared.
“You’ll have to wear your own trousers, but they’ll dirty up quick enough.” I tossed a bundle of cloth to Aden. He caught it easily. “Nobody will know the difference unless they look close. And you’ll want to mess up your hair a bit.”
He lifted the old shirt to his face like it was a fish carcass and smelled it. Then he grimaced. I half hoped that a lordly tantrum would emerge, but he just shook his head and began unfastening his shirt.
My attention fixed on his fingers, glimpses of chest slowly exposing itself as he worked. I told myself I didn’t care what a noble looked like underneath. It was curiosity, nothing more. Curiosity that made me feel strangely winded as he pulled the shirt off and tossed it to the deck.
Our gazes locked.
I managed to turn away, pretending to fumble through the storage chest again. Heat raged in my cheeks. I wasn’t bothered by a little skin, but I didn’t usually gawk either. Aden had no right to look so toned, especially when my plan involved breaking him a bit. Maybe sea life would suit him better than expected. Not that I cared about that.
I kept my back to him and said the first thing that sprang to mind. “You will also stop shaving.”
“I thought this was a Hughen ship.”
“Once you hit open sea, we follow a different law.” Except for the whole girl-sailor thing, which apparently applied everywhere I wanted to be. I slammed the lid as the hinge shrieked in protest. “Out there, Hughens grow beards and even eat fowl.” I turned around to see his reaction.
He froze, one arm extended in the shirtsleeve. “They do?”
Oh, torturing Aden was going to be glorious. “Aye. So will you, if you expect to fit in here.”
He frowned, looking disturbed. I couldn’t tell which bothered him more—eating fowl or not shaving. Hughens were so odd sometimes.
“Does it always smell like this?” he muttered. “I don’t suppose there’s a place for sleeping on deck.”
“Contrary to what shoremen think, we don’t halt every night for sleep. You’ll have a full eight-hour watch every other night. You try to sleep up there and they’ll kick you around like a yapping pup.”
He sighed. “Let me try out a hammock, then.”
I grinned again.
He threw his hands up in the air. “Oh no. Absolutely not. I refuse to sleep on the hard floor for three weeks.”
“These are all claimed. Isn’t my place to give a man’s hammock away. Besides, by this time tomorrow, you’ll be tired enough to sleep standing up.”
He muttered a curse and dropped his hands, revealing that he’d only succeeded in fastening one of the clasps. “Why isn’t this working?”
I cocked my head. “Don’t tell me you’ve never fastened your own shirt before.”
“Of course I have.” He frowned. “These clasps are different. They keep slipping.”
Different from what? I stepped closer and swiped his own shirt off the ground, examining it closely. “Buttons carved from seashells?” Lands. And he’d smeared dirt on it like the shirt meant nothing. I stroked the buttons with my fingers. “Do you still want this?”
“Keep it.”
I wadded the fabric up and shoved it under my arm before he could change his mind. The buttons alone would be worth ten coppers at port. Aden’s gold would buy the supplies we needed and purchase “cargo” for our journey, but I had my own expenses to worry about.
Aden was still standing there, fiddling with the clasps. He grunted in frustration. Even a child knew how to fasten his shirt. Were all rich boys so helpless?
I sighed, not moving to help him. This was a business arrangement and nothing more. If Aden expected me to cushion it for him, he was dead wrong. For the next three weeks, we were equals. If he stepped out of line, it was my right—no, responsibility—to remind him.
He finally got the second clasp fastened. With a triumphant grin, he moved on to the next. It would have been fine, except he’d used the wrong clasp. The shirt hung open at a strange angle, exposing his hardened chest.
This wouldn’t do at all. I couldn’t rightly spend all day seeing that and not stare, pampered rich boy or not.
With an exasperated sigh, I planted myself in front of him and began fixing the clasps, keeping my head down and pretending my face wasn’t just inches away from his. Despite the old shirt, he smelled of oak moss and fresh rain. At least he wasn’t doused in that nose-numbing, heavy cologne our wealthier passengers often wore around lady folk. I imagined this particular boy putting on nice clothes and cologne for my sake and swallowed hard.
“You’ll practice tonight when the men are asleep,” I told him, letting my messy hair fall into my eyes. Hopefully it would hide my flaming cheeks. “I’m not doing this for you again.”
“Where do you sleep?” he asked. I caught a whiff of mint leaves on his breath.
“In the captain’s quarters.” That sounded odd even to my ears, so I plunged on. “He prefers to keep me close. In case he needs to send orders or anything.”
I couldn’t recall what a bed felt like. I was five when Mum had come to the docks and set me down in front of Father, saying she couldn’t do it anymore.
Most of my memories of her were blurred, but that day sprang to mind with perfect clarity—her insistence that she wasn’t meant for this life, that her dreams lay elsewhere. I’d reached for her then. She’d stared at my hands with a tight jaw before turning away.
I still remembered how her braid had shone like honey in the dying sunlight as she’d marched toward town. She never turned back to look at me. Not once. I’d looked at Father for reassurance, only to see my own pain reflected in his expression. Something inside him had cracked that day, something not even I could mend.
I thought of that terrible woman who’d struck the beggar earlier and grimaced. Sad as it was, Father should have known better than to fall in love with a lady of position.
“I saw you speaking with the captain alone earlier,” Aden said, pulling me back to the present. “Does he not approve of your going ashore with the men?” He paused and shook his head
. “Never mind. I know the answer to that.”
I bristled. “Not that it’s your business, but I come and go as I please. I join the crew ashore often. They’re my family.” It was mostly true. “Tell me why it has to be Ellegran.”
“Because it does. Trust me on that.” He lifted his chin to allow me better access to the last clasp.
The job wasn’t done, but I let my hands drop and stepped backward, my face heating under his intense gaze. It looked better with the collar unfastened anyway. “You’ll pass. At least until you open your mouth.”
“What’s wrong with how I speak?”
“You sound too stiff. Just… you know. Relax a little. Let your words slur together.”
“Ligethis?”
“You seem drunk.”
He smirked. “I thought most sailors were drunk. Isn’t that why they sign on, for the spirit rations?”
I wanted to slap that sightly face of his. Of all the arrogant, ridiculous things to say. “The men are skilled and work hard. Their rations are a fitting reward for months at sea, and our ale’s barely strong enough to get anyone drunk.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “It was a joke. Forget I said anything.”
The ceiling creaked. Someone had returned. I tensed as footsteps sounded on the stairs, then Barrie appeared in the doorway. He gave Aden a curious look, but to his credit, he didn’t mention our earlier conversation and my mission ashore. “Captain’s sent orders to gather the crew. I can’t find Dryam. You seen him?”
“Probably visiting family. I think they live on the outskirts. Shouldn’t be there much longer, though. He’s always complaining about his gruff aunt.”
“Ah, that’s right.” His eyes flicked to Aden, then he scampered away.
“So young,” Aden muttered.
“Most start young. Barrie’s a hard worker making an honest wage, and you won’t speak badly of him.”
He chuckled. “You imply my own wages are dishonest?”
“Tell me you actually worked for that bag of gold. Tell me you labored in the hot sun, drenching rain, and biting winds to earn your family’s support.”