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Legend of Ecta Mastrino Box Set

Page 68

by B J Hanlon


  The surgeon was astonished at how fast it closed and Le Fie winked at him though he was weary and could barely speak. Each session left him in that state.

  Arianne motioned for more water, she drank again, spilling drops down her cheeks and onto her neck.

  Still holding the cup, Edin wiped them off with a small cloth and gazed at her drained countenance. “Better?”

  She nodded and laid her head back down on the fluffy pillow. She tested her mouth again, moving the jaw up and down.

  “Where are we?”

  “On the Castilander.” He wasn’t sure if she remembered what happened to her. He hoped she didn’t. Edin certainly didn’t want to remember. “Three days out of Carrow.”

  He remembered Foristol and grimaced. He shifted in his seat and felt his leg tingling.

  Would his funeral be today along with all of the other men Edin had slain? Edin remembered seeing Arianne drop with the arrow protruding. Instant rage washed over him.

  Now he could picture Marina in tears standing over Foristol’s casket along with mothers, fathers, and children who lost loved ones that night.

  “What’s wrong?” Arianne said as a wave crashed into the side of the hull.

  Edin felt the contents in his belly scrambling before he looked back at her and forced a smile. It could’ve been her funeral too. She was in the midst of the fight and nearly died. A couple of inches over and the arrow would’ve pierced her neck.

  Edin took her hand. “Nothing.”

  Arianne squeezed back, her hands were cold, clammy, and weak. But she was alive.

  Since they’d been taken aboard the ship, he always believed she’d make it through. The other possibility was something he couldn’t bring himself to think about.

  “Are you sure?” Said Arianne motioning for another sip of water.

  He didn’t answer as he held the mug to her mouth. She slurped at the rim again and let go with a smack. Edin wiped the trickles from her face and replaced the cup.

  Arianne had the only cot in the makeshift sickbay, her wound was bad, though others from the Raven’s crew had it worse. Some died like Encenzo.

  Edin didn’t remember them anchoring behind the long island off Carrow, he didn’t remember the slow lowering of bodies or the somber mood of the ship’s crew. According to Le Fie, it wasn’t just the Raven’s people in the assault but he didn’t elaborate after that.

  “Have you slept?”

  “Some,” Edin whispered. A wave crashed into the hull again with a slap like an open hand on a cheek.

  Arianne squeezed his hand, “you haven’t been watching over me this whole time, have you?”

  “No,” he lied.

  “Have you been sleeping in that chair? It looks horribly uncomfortable.”

  “It’s fine.”

  Arianne slid over and lifted her blanket. A pained look washed over her face but she didn’t complain. She then pushed it to a grin. “Get in.”

  “I smell horribly, I haven’t showered in days.”

  “Believe me, I noticed. But we’re on a ship. What do expect, a spa day?”

  “I don’t want to disgust you.”

  “Too late,” she said and patted the cot next to her.

  Edin slipped off his boots and gingerly slid in next to her.

  Arianne turned facing the wall to keep pressure off her injured shoulder. Edin had to press close, his chest to her back. She reached over, grabbed his hand and pulled it to her chest. She pressed the hand deep into her bosom, so close he could feel her heartbeat. It was rapid, very rapid but she didn’t seem to be in any distress. Then she pulled it to her lips and kissed it.

  Despite the stomach-turning waves, the exhaustion, and the worries, Edin felt himself responding to her warmth, her softness.

  “Edin,” Arianne said.

  He swallowed. “Yes…”

  “You do stink.”

  He smiled and lifted his head, she had a smug grin on her face, a moment later, she wiggled her hips. Edin sighed and dropped his head back to the pillow and tried to think about something else.

  For a long time after Arianne had fallen asleep, his mind raced. There were two things that kept bungling into each other in his mind, the closeness of Arianne’s body and the death of the kindly city guard.

  Sometime later, a bell rang somewhere outside of the room waking Edin from his comfortable slumber. It took him a moment to remember where he was. The dark wooden cabin was lit only by a wax candle.

  He glanced at her calm face, the bell hadn’t woken her. That was good, she needed rest.

  A soft rapping came to the door and it crept open with a squeal.

  “Brought supper, it’s gruel but…” Le Fie was looking in when he frowned. Edin was in the same bed as the patient. “If she’s feeling well enough for that, she should eat.”

  “We didn’t…”

  Le Fie winked. “There’s more in the galley.” He set the large covered bowl on the nightstand and started to close the door. He stopped and looked at Edin. “When you have a moment, I’d like to talk.”

  “When she wakes…”

  “Just you,” Le Fie said and closed the door. The way the man had looked at him, the amount of energy he’d put into healing Arianne, feeding them, and taking care of them—it was almost familial.

  Why? What did he want from them? He remembered the wink, it reminded him of Dephina and Edin suddenly didn’t feel great again.

  “What was that about?” Arianne whispered, her eyes still closed.

  “Le Fie brought dinner.”

  Arianne yawned and looked up at him, the green of her eyes waved in the light. “I could eat a cow,” she said.

  “A peasant’s meal for you today, your highness?” Edin said.

  Arianne elbowed him then grimaced. “Ow.”

  “I’ll grab it,” he said and moved to get up but she gripped his arm.

  “Not yet.” She took his hand and pressed it into her chest again. “I like laying like this.”

  He laid back down and wrapped his arm around her, squeezing her close. Her hair smelt of fire, dirt, and blood, but Edin wasn’t going to say anything about that. “I do too.”

  With her stomach growling, Arianne didn’t go back to sleep, she laid there, held his hand and flitted her fingers with his.

  Finally, she was too hungry and requested supper.

  He opened the bowl and began to spoon feed her. A frown crossed her face, he wasn’t sure if it was the gruel or her shoulder.

  “How’s your breakfast in bed?”

  “It’d be better if I could get my hands on that blotard who shot me,” Arianne said.

  Edin held the spoon up to her lips, she blew on it before taking down a thick chunk of brown and stringy meat. He really wished she didn’t remember. There was much he’d like to erase from his own memory.

  He’d thought about the decision to join the Raven since he’d woken. He knew it was the right choice for them. The only choice really. They had to join her, she offered a way out, an escape so they could be free.

  Hopefully, it’d lead to the life he wanted. One with Arianne.

  A drip of brown sauce slipped down her face, Edin wiped it with his thumb. She smiled.

  Together, that’s what he wanted. What was the cost though? The lives of many men, all dead because of him.

  “He is dead,” Edin said quietly as he spooned another mouthful to her lips.

  “Good,” Arianne said with a hint of venom.

  Edin glanced at her eyes, a dark look flew in and out before they turned piercing gray-green again. The spoon clacked against the wood bowl and Edin looked down. Empty, he stood. “I’ll get a refill.”

  Arianne nodded and laid back in the bed grinning and said, “I’ll be waiting,” while she patted his spot.

  Outside, the floorboards creaked and the ship groaned as it lurched right. Edin planted a hand against the wall to steady himself. He couldn’t remember if the galley was at the bow or stern but he knew how to
get there. He only left Arianne’s room to use the bathroom, what the seamen call ‘the head.’

  The sound of men chatting and the light at the end of the hallway acted like a beacon. As he stepped into the mess hall, ten or so crew members looked up at him. Among them was Flack.

  The boy caught his gaze and nodded a silent hello.

  Edin was surprised to see him here. On the floor of the cabin, he saw watery boot prints, puddles, and droplets forming little elongated dots like a comet. Then he remembered the comet. The one that burst.

  Suddenly, Edin became aware that there was an awkward silence for a moment. Then the conversations resumed.

  Edin went toward the small galley with the bowl. He hadn’t gotten a bite, it was good Arianne was eating but his stomach growled. He glanced at the cast iron pot on the huge stove. A half yard tall and another half in diameter. His mouth watered at the smell, even if it was gruel.

  “Sorry lad,” the cook said, “let the last of it go.”

  Edin sighed though he wasn’t sure how much he would’ve ate anyways. The lurching didn’t do much for his stomach. Turning back, he caught a quick movement off to his side. He almost flinched but saw it was Flack coming over to him.

  “You hungry?”

  “A bit,” Edin said sarcastically and looked at the empty bowl.

  “Here,” Flack handed him his bowl and a hard piece of bread. “Dunk that rock it in the slop, moistens it a bit.”

  “Kid, you may be the captain’s spawn, but don’t call me stew a slop nor my bread a rock,” the cook said.

  “What else would you call it?” Flack shot back then raised his hands as if he were giving up. “Always so ornery.” He turned back to Edin with a sly grin. “A lot of chefs are temperamental.”

  “How many chefs do you know?”

  “Plenty of them. Some like to be called culinary artists…”

  It took Edin a moment to realize the kid was using words that seemed too long for a street urchin. Too educated for a criminal.

  “Thanks Flack,” Edin said.

  “No prob, it’d be nice to know someone when I get to the island. Seeing as you and your girl are heading there, I figure I better make myself a friend.”

  “You’re going…” Edin lowered his voice, “to the Isle of Mists?”

  “Yep, my pa arranged it. Wants me to be better…”

  Edin raised an eyebrow, “are you a…” He caught himself from saying magi, habit he figured. Many of the men probably knew they were smuggling magi to the Isles. They just didn’t care.

  “I’m going to get an education; no university will take the son of a smuggler and a crime boss… no matter how much money.” Flack shook his head, “plus, my mum expects Carrow will be on fire for a while. So Pa is stashing me away. Delrot has a university, I was hoping to study economics.”

  “Your old man?” Edin almost missed it. The cook, chef or whatever, just called him the captain’s son. “Ashica?”

  “Don’t see him often but he tends to bring me things… negotiated with the Praesidium to let me stay at the Isle.”

  Edin felt awkward standing in the middle of the galley with a bowl of food and bread, he nodded over toward a bench. He hadn’t given much thought about what to expect upon arriving. As if a gate had been thrown open, questions ran through his head.

  What was it like? What type of people lived there? Were there fantastical creatures, like fairies, dwarves, or gnomes? What about the buildings? Edin had a thought that magical buildings could be built in any way, even upside down. Did the laws of the mundane world follow the same rules? Those would be better answered by someone else, Edin guessed.

  “What’s the Praesidium?” Edin sat at the end of a long bench. The sailor closest to him scooted a bit further away.

  Flack sat across from him. “The leadership. A council of magi run by the First Among Equals or FAE for short. He’s pretty much in charge and tells everyone else what to do.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a council,” Edin offered. “Sounds more like a king.”

  Flack shrugged, “politics is not my cup of whiskey.” He looked around. “It is what I heard though.”

  “What else do you know about the place?”

  Flack’s brow furrowed as he placed a hand on his chin. “There are three separate islands, all connected by bridges. Delrot, the main island, was created by a volcano thousands of years ago, maybe millions. It’s huge, don’t know the dimensions. It is the main city and houses much of the population.”

  The boat retched sideways and he heard the jangle of metal pots. He noticed Flack tilt with the ship as if he were part of it.

  “According to my old man,” he caveated. “There are a few hamlets on the other two islands; they’re mostly farm and ranch land. Growing food is easy there, herding livestock is much more difficult… they only have limited space.”

  Edin nodded.

  “But the city is just as any other. They have schools, a university, shops, artisans, taverns… a couple inns, mostly for the farmers from the other isles since visitors are rare. And there’s no undercity. I think it’ll be nice to live under the sun for once.”

  Edin bit into the bread, it scraped the roof of his mouth as he crunched.

  Flack must’ve seen the look on his face and smiled. “Dunk it in the broth, you don’t take directions very well do you?”

  Edin stiffened, rubbing his tongue along the raw part of his mouth. “Not really, no.”

  Flack chortled. “Better learn, it’s very… regimented on the isle.”

  Feet shuffled and chairs scraped the floor. He glanced over and saw the crew heading toward a wide step ladder. “End of lunch?”

  “Yep. Listen, you want to know more, talk to Le Fie, I’m only saying what I hear. I have to head back, the old man wants me to teach me about the sea, how to read the charts, waves, and stars… blah blah blah.” He stood and followed the men up disappearing through the hatch to the deck.

  Water drizzled in the open hatch and the mess quieted substantially. He heard the movement above, soft patters of men moving in the storm.

  The cook whistled in front of his wash basin. He glanced around, saw only Edin, he winked and reached into a cabinet and pulled out a dark bottle of something. He took a swig.

  He lowered it, wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist and said. “Whiskey?”

  “If you’re offering,” Edin said. He felt his mouth watering more than when he wanted the gruel. Actually, he wasn’t even hungry anymore. Odd, he thought as the cook poured him a drink and raised the mug.

  Edin took it and sipped. Over the top of his mug he saw cook’s eyes widen looking at something behind Edin.

  The cook spun around, the bottle nearly slipping from his grip.

  Edin turned and saw Le Fie standing like a wraith in the doorway. The long black hair, sharp jaw, and high cheek bones gave him the appearance of an outlaw or a pirate.

  Edin wasn’t sure what to make of the man. Until the last ten minutes, he was the only person who had spoken to him since they boarded the ship. And his words were only ever in whispers above Arianne’s sleeping form.

  He took a sip of the whiskey and tilted it toward the man. They were about the same height, Le Fie was a bit thinner at the shoulders, his arms weren’t as large but Edin could sense a strength that was more than pure muscle.

  “Would you like some?”

  “I rarely partake,” Le Fie said. “It hinders my facilities… and my job.” There wasn’t any judgment in his voice but maybe a hint of longing.

  “Sometimes, the facilities need a bit of hindering,” Edin said taking another sip. “What is your job?”

  Le Fie said nothing but Edin could feel him probing with his eyes. Le Fie took a few steps, Edin noticed a limp as he sat down at a bench. In Flack’s spot.

  A door slammed too hard causing Edin to jump. When he glanced around, he saw they were alone. He took another drink from the mug, a little deeper this time before he moved
closer. He wasn’t sure what this was about, but the probing gaze grew until it felt more uncomfortable than a long form lecture about human reproduction given by Master Horston. One with drawings…

  The old man may have had some experience, but Edin didn’t want to know… though now, he’d listen to that lecture for a month.

  “So, is Le Fie your real name?”

  Le Fie’s tongue seemed to be running over his teeth. “No.”

  “The Darsol Rose, that’s your… gang…”

  Le Fie nodded once.

  Edin tried to glean some sort of response deeper than that but the man’s dark pupils didn’t seem to give away secrets. He shifted on the bench and took another drink. “And you do what exactly?”

  “What is needed.”

  “Spying? Assassinations? I knew someone like that.” He paused, looked into the nearly empty mug. The dull outline of his head waved in the deep brown liquid. Edin saw no features in it. “She’s dead.” No answer. “So, are you trying to recruit me or something?”

  “You haven’t the skills nor the stomach lad, like your father.”

  Edin wasn’t sure if that was an insult or a compliment. A wave crashed into them but now Edin’s body swayed with it.

  “You knew Rihkar?”

  Le Fie nodded.

  How many others knew him? Maybe all of them? What about his family… Edin’s family. Did he actually have any? Could it be possible he wasn’t alone after all?

  There was a long silence while Edin stared down at the mug before emptying it. “I met him… but I don’t know him.” Edin said.

  “To be expected. I’m sorry to hear about your mother. A strong woman I hear. She died defending her home… and her mage son.”

  Edin felt his face grow red and he clenched his jaw. He glared at Le Fie and anger came with the memory. “And where was my father? Off rambling around, living his life while he left us… left her to die. He knew I was… what I was, didn’t he? Why didn’t he come for me?”

 

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