by Rebecca Rode
A chill swept over me. “From what? What are you talking about?”
He paused. “Aden has been accused of sabotage.”
A heavy tension hung in the air as I climbed to deck two. A crowd had gathered around the guns—mostly Kemp’s watch, although a few of ours stood sleepily at the bulkhead opening. The usual snoring from the crew’s quarters had ceased. The entire deck was silent, gripped in a tension I felt as keenly as the dread in my chest. Aden and Kemp stood next to the ladder, glaring at each other. Aden’s face was flushed in the deep shadows of gaslight.
I caught a glimpse of Barrie near the back, pale as death. He held his blanket like a shield against the world.
“Lie to me again,” Kemp growled, “and I’ll give you a punishment that makes young Barrie’s ordeal look like mum’s kisses.”
“I won’t admit guilt for a crime I never committed. Sir.” Aden stood with fists clenched, as if ready to defend himself with more than words if necessary. My father stood near the steps, his shirt untucked and half-fastened. Even in the low light, he looked exhausted. We’d survived one problem only to encounter another.
“What happened?” I asked Dennis, who’d come up behind me.
But it was Kemp who answered. “The bloody whelp doused our gunpowder.”
A stir went through the crowd. My skin prickled. Dousing gunpowder with water, rendering it unusable, was a dirty pirate trick.
“How much?” my father asked.
“Three barrels, but only because I caught him before he moved to the last.”
Dread settled in my bones.
“You saw him do it, then?” my father asked.
That gave Kempton pause. “Didn’t actually see it, though I heard him moving round in here. I came down to investigate and found the boy trying to sneak away, his shirt streaked in powder.”
Aden’s eyes narrowed. “That’s because I cleaned your guns earlier, sir, and you know it.”
“Do I? Surely I’d remember such a task.”
Aden ground his teeth. My stomach sank. Kemp’s order had been about more than torture. He’d been setting Aden up. One thing was clear—Aden had been with me, and those minutes since our parting hadn’t been enough to commit a crime like this. But only he and I knew that, and it wasn’t something I dared reveal. If the crew discovered Aden and I had been hiding in the hold alone together so late—well, it wouldn’t take long before the men recalled how often we worked side by side and began to wonder why. That would lead to questions I didn’t want them to consider. Neither of us would escape that train of thought unscathed.
I met Aden’s eyes. There was a weight to his gaze that meant he was thinking the same thing.
I pushed past the crowd to the barrels. I could smell the gritty acid even before I saw it—three barrels with the lids removed, dark puddles of water near their bases. I took a handful of powder off the top. It was heavy and moist. I didn’t have to plunge my hand deeper to know the bottom of the barrel was completely immersed.
Our nearly empty rain coffer stood in its usual place to the side, though it was crooked as if hurriedly replaced. The water in the barrel was still cold. The deed had been done recently. Very recently.
That left us with only one barrel of usable gunpowder. We’d been essentially disarmed in a single night. And with our rain coffer emptied, we were dangerously low on drinking water. We’d have to ration or halt in Messau to replenish our stores.
My father turned to Aden. “What have you to say, boy?”
Aden didn’t hesitate. “I was restless from the events of the day, Captain, so I read for a while before retiring. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I’m a poor witness, sir, but most definitely not the guilty party. I didn’t even know water could destroy gunpowder.”
“Liar,” Kemp hissed.
Aden whirled on the larger man. “What motive would I have, Gun Master? I want to survive as much as any man here.”
“Enough!” My father shoved his way past the watching men and examined the barrels, his face drawn in anger. The shadows carved at his face in a disconcerting way. “This is an abomination.”
“Indeed, sir,” Dennis muttered. “A well-placed blow, it is. We have a saboteur on board. If we run across more pirates—” He cut off abruptly, meeting Father’s pointed glare.
I raised an eyebrow. My father had obviously forbidden Dennis to speak of Belza and his pirates. That was the closest Dennis had ever come to insubordination. Except he was wrong about one thing. Being caught defenseless would be far worse than a blow. It would mean the annihilation of the entire crew.
“Pardon my boldness, Cap’n,” Kemp said, “but it had to be the boy. The guilty party was obviously interrupted, as the last barrel was left untouched. Besides myself, young Aden is the only person who’s come through here recently. He even admitted he hasn’t seen anyone else.”
Kemp’s argument was a sound one. If I hadn’t been with Aden just moments ago, I would have assumed him guilty as well. Except he wasn’t. That left Kemp. Injuring the ship hurt him as well as the rest of us. Why take such a huge risk simply to get back at Aden? Or did this fall into his plan somehow?
The thought was unsettling. The pieces were all there—his meeting in Hughen, his countrymen recruits, the sliced rope, and his outburst at the Needle. Mutiny. It was the only logical conclusion. I just didn’t understand how all the elements fit together.
“Do you have any witnesses to confirm your testimony?” Father asked Aden.
I tensed. I was the only witness.
Once more, there was no hesitation in Aden’s reply. “None, unfortunately. I was alone until meeting Master Kempton.”
A treasonous relief swept over me, followed by disgust in myself. I’d hidden behind my wall of secrets while Barrie was punished. Could I do it again while Aden was punished to protect me?
“You said you were reading,” Dennis said. “Where?”
“The cargo hold.” Aden pointedly avoided looking my direction. “I borrowed a book on naval history earlier. I wanted to finish it before we arrived, and gaslight was too bright for the sleeping men.”
I felt Dennis’s gaze. My cheeks grew warm. Dennis would eventually tell my father where he’d found me. But there was a larger issue at hand. If Aden wasn’t convincing enough, he’d be strung up and whipped. It wouldn’t be fifteen lashes either—it’d be the full thirty. And once that was done, Aden would spend the rest of the voyage in bonds. I could only imagine the king’s reaction when he heard about that.
It felt as though a leash of lies extended between Aden and me. His fate was now bound to mine.
“Gun Master,” my father said. “What witnesses have you?”
“Several, Cap’n. They’ll affirm my presence on deck until I found the boy. And I’ve no doubt several heard what happened after that.” He looked smug. Kemp knew few dared speak against him, even if they suspected his lies. Barrie stood huddled in his corner, staring at the barrels of destroyed powder.
“If you’ll forgive me, Captain Garrow,” Aden said, “there’s a discrepancy in the gun master’s story. It can’t be as he says.”
Kemp began to sputter, but my father raised a hand to silence him. “Explain.”
“Master Kempton said he heard noises and came down to investigate, finding me alone and then seeing the sabotage. But when I climbed up from the hold, he stood by the ladder. He couldn’t have seen the damage from there, especially in the darkness. I believe he already knew it was there and waited for someone to blame it on.”
“You dare accuse me of sabotaging my own ship?” Kemp snapped.
“I accuse you of attempting to frame me for your treachery.”
“You bird-loving weasel.” Kemp’s voice lowered to a deadly pitch. “You issue a challenge.”
“I speak the truth as I see it.”
The room was silent and still except for the flickering of the lantern. Even my father stood there, rigid, as if uncertain what to say. Kemp’s face turned a deep purple, and f
or a moment, I thought he was suffocating. Then he whirled to face my father. “I demand Right of Steel. I’ll be having nothing less.”
Right of Steel.
The other men stared at Kemp in disbelief. Dennis opened his mouth to protest, then he seemed to think better of it and clamped his mouth shut again.
“The boy rendered us incapable of defending ourselves, then challenged me in front of the crew.” Kemp’s voice was barely controlled. “I’m within my rights, and I’ll not be talked out of this.”
There was a long pause as the gathered men waited for my father to speak. He examined Aden for a moment, and I knew a silent exchange was taking place between them.
“In all my years at sea,” Father finally said, “I’ve only experienced one duel. It was a bloody affair that still haunts my dreams. There will be no duel, but a trial.”
A stir went through the group. A captain was the ultimate authority in matters of discord and ship law. But a Right of Steel duel was a matter of a sailor’s honor. It went beyond his jurisdiction.
“Captain, sir,” Digby said. The man actually grinned. “In cases where we’ve two men who accuse each other and no witnesses, Right of Steel is the appropriate course. I’m sure the first officer will confirm it. Right, Master Dennis?”
“Don’t you dictate to me the rules of my ship, sailor,” my father snapped.
“Captain,” Dennis said apologetically. “He’s right. We haven’t time for an investigation nor a trial. The men will duel upon our arrival anyway. May as well hold it here, where the crew can witness and the officers can ensure proper rules are followed.”
Kempton’s eyes shone now. He looked almost giddy, like this had gone better than planned.
Some of the pieces clicked into place, and I finally saw the truth of it. Kemp suspected Aden wasn’t the sailor he claimed. Even if Aden managed to survive, which wasn’t likely, the men would see his skill with the blade and accuse my father of deceiving them as Kemp had always implied. More than the powder had been destroyed tonight. I wanted to slink into the shadows and melt between the deck planks.
Instead, I straightened. “This is wrong. We should set to draining the powder and putting the ship in order, not watching a fight.”
“You aren’t entitled to an opinion, captain’s boy,” Kemp said. He’d given boy the slightest of emphasis. A warning.
I nearly snapped back anyway, but Aden gave a tiny shake of his head. My defense of him wouldn’t do any good now that a direct challenge had been issued. This wasn’t about who was guilty. This was about who was the stronger man.
My father watched Aden now, seeing him as if for the first time. His expression was dark. “Do you accept the terms, sailor?”
“If a duel will prove my loyalty to this ship and its crew, I accept.”
Whispers floated from the crew’s quarters. Father examined me, with a heaviness to his stature that seemed to come from his very soul. There were questions in his eyes. He knew I had something to do with this, but he’d never draw the crew’s attention to me so long as danger lurked. I shrank under his gaze.
“The duel will commence at dawn,” he finally said. “I want all hands on deck to witness. Dennis, make sure both men are watched closely until then. And have the others clean up this mess. We must salvage what we can.”
Dennis’s idea of having the two men watched involved Kempton returning to his hammock and Aden being banished from the crew’s quarters. Before Dennis left to take his post above, he leaned over my shoulder. “I’m sending men down to drain the powder. Have Paval take the boy into steerage. Make sure he gets some sleep.”
Then Aden and I were alone. The gaslight lantern still sat where I’d left it. I grabbed the handle and started toward the galley. Paval’s quarters lay just beyond. “This way to steerage,” I said. “You’ll be able to sleep there.”
“I can’t sleep anywhere.” But he followed anyway.
When we reached Paval’s door, Aden stopped me. “Don’t wake him yet.” He slid to the floor and sat himself against the bulkhead, one knee bent to the ceiling.
I sank down beside him, careful to give him plenty of space. Even here, the awareness of him scrambled my mind until I couldn’t think straight. Aden was being far too calm about this. Surely King Eurion would be furious if Aden died tomorrow. None of us would escape the noose.
“At least we know one thing,” Aden said. “Kemp believes this duel will get him closer to command. There’s no question of that now.”
The duel itself, he’d said. Not Aden’s death. Never that. He hadn’t acknowledged what I already knew—that he couldn’t beat Kempton. His training was casual, using thin foils and padding for protection. Aden’s confidence was admirable, but Kemp was a brutal and effective soldier.
I couldn’t discuss Kemp’s motives right now. I felt my heart flip in my chest, hyperaware of how straight Aden’s posture was against the wood, how far his legs extended before us, and how he fidgeted with his hands like a distracted scholar.
“Tell them who you are,” I blurted out.
“Who?”
“My father. Dennis. Barrie. I don’t really care.”
“And ignite Kemp’s mutiny? The men will never believe Garrow didn’t know about me. It would only prove Kemp’s point that the men can’t trust their captain. I never meant to cause harm to your ship.” His tone was sad. “Besides, knowing why I’m here would endanger everyone, especially you. I’m not willing to take that risk.”
I thought of Aden’s parchment in my pocket and shifted uncomfortably. “But you’ll risk your own life in a bloody duel instead? I don’t see how you can accomplish anything dead.”
“Who said anything about dying? I’ve fought men bigger than Kempton before and won.”
A cold shiver wriggled down my body. “You’ve fought nobles, Aden. Never a soldier. And never for your life.”
“I’ll do fine.”
“You won’t,” I hissed, then lowered my voice again. “Look. The men will discover your identity anyway, from the second you begin to fight. Noble duels are more flashy, more drawn out and entertaining. Ours are over in seconds. If you’re certain you want to do this, show Kemp that you won’t be used. Disguise your skill but defeat him quickly. Be deadly and accurate.”
He chuckled. “Remind me never to cross you.”
“Don’t you get it? Kempton knows we’re lying about who you are. He’ll draw out the fight to expose you, but in the end, he intends to kill you.”
He sobered. “I know.”
There was a long moment of silence. Our shoulders touched now, though I wasn’t sure who had closed the distance. I was painfully aware of every breath he drew, the way he held the air as if considering it, then released it into the world. Every muscle in my body was taut, humming with something alive and very much awake.
“I appreciate the advice, Lane. You’ve risked a lot for me on this voyage, and you’ve kept your word even though you didn’t understand why. I’ll make sure you don’t regret it.” His grin was so open, so positively unguarded, that it stole my breath.
Lands. How was I supposed to reply to that?
Silence fell upon us once again. I filled the emptiness with another selfish, utterly impossible dream deep within my consciousness where Aden would never find it. I let myself believe that Aden could remain as crew on the Majesty. We could explore the world together, far from the Edict and the noose and everything that awaited us in Ellegran. We’d live out my dream together—me as captain, him as first officer. Or perhaps more. I let myself imagine what it would feel like in his warm, strong arms. It would be us against the world.
Then reality burned its way in, leaving nothing behind but smoke. Eleven years of lies, and I’d never longed so desperately to throw it all away. I wanted to rip the rotting lies free and fling them into the ocean to drown. I wanted to demand the truth and tear down the walls between us.
I wanted to touch him, to be touched as who I truly was.
I wanted him.
This is what you signed up for, I reminded myself. You chose the life of a seaman over that of a lady. You can’t have both.
But I wanted both. More than that.
I wanted a world where I could be both.
“Thank you,” I finally whispered. “For not saying anything, I mean.”
Aden turned, looking down upon me with warm eyes. They had a million levels of depth to them, like a stormy gray sea, capturing me. “Of course. It’s what we princes do.” There was a hint of bitterness to his tone.
A very real pain stabbed through my chest, and I knew I couldn’t stay here any longer. It was tearing me apart, piece by lying piece. My father had been foolish enough to fall for someone high above his station. I wouldn’t make the same mistake.
“I’m going to tell my father,” I said firmly. “He’ll know what to do.” I moved to rise.
“No, you won’t. We had a bargain, Lane. Nobody can know.”
“Tell them who I am, then, because I’m not letting you die.”
His hand covered mine. “Wait.”
His hand.
It gripped mine with a strength that left me weak. If Aden’s closeness had made me dizzy earlier, his touch left me drunk now. I couldn’t rise if I’d wanted to. The cold from before was completely forgotten as his heat transferred to me, zinging through my body in a most pleasant way.
Then I met his gaze… and all was lost. He looked at me with a fierceness I’d never seen.
I watched the emotions warring in his expression. He seemed like a man tortured, searching for words that refused to come. Through it all, the weight of his hand on mine made words utterly impossible.
We stared at each other for a long moment. The creaking ship, the acidic smell of wet gunpowder, the snores of sleeping men—it was a distant history. Aden was here, now. Soon even this moment would be a memory.
“I wish I could tell you everything,” he said softly. “But for now, please trust that I know what I’m doing. I swear it will all make sense eventually.”
“But a duel? You can’t help your family at all if you lose. It’s too risky.”