Sands of Memory

by Melissa McShane

  “Hmm? Oh. No, it’s the prow. And this end of the ship is called ‘forward’ and the back is ‘aft.’ That’s about the limit of my nautical knowledge, I’m afraid.”

  She leaned into him. “When did you last go to sea?”

  “Three years ago. From Fioretti to New Solis in Wrathen.”

  “It was four years ago,” Dianthe corrected him. “That salvage job outside Appolto.”

  “Was it? It feels like only three.” Alaric smiled. “That was an interesting job.”

  “With an interesting client,” Dianthe said.

  The way she emphasized “interesting” made Sienne say, “What was so interesting about him?”

  “It was a her,” Dianthe said, “and it was the kind of interesting he probably wouldn’t want to share with you.”

  “Ohhhh,” Sienne said. Alaric’s face was redder than his usual true summer sunburn. “You slept with a client?”

  “You don’t want to hear about my past romantic entanglements.”

  “Ah, but when they are clients, my curiosity is piqued,” Perrin said with a grin. “Forgive me, but is that not unprofessional?”

  “She must have been remarkable,” Kalanath said.

  “She was,” Alaric said, “and I was carried away. It wasn’t more than a dalliance,” he assured Sienne.

  “Alaric, you’ve never held my previous romance against me, I don’t see why I should make a fuss over something that happened four years ago.”

  “But it is awkward still,” Kalanath said.

  “Right.” Alaric hugged Sienne more tightly. “And yes, it was unprofessional, and it’s the only time I’ve ever done anything like it. Besides, Dianthe has done it, too. Remember Marisse?”

  Dianthe slugged him on the arm. “That’s low, bringing up my past to avoid talking about yours.”

  “I assume this was before Denys,” Sienne said.

  “Of course. There was a man in the Marisse city guard…hmm, it occurs to me I might have a type. Anyway, every time we passed through there, he and I, um, met. But he was never a client, so it’s not the same at all.”

  “It is interesting to me, the ways men and women come together,” Kalanath said. “I have no such stories.”

  Sienne, her mouth open to tease Alaric further, gaped at him. “None? You mean, not ever?”

  Kalanath shrugged. “It is not something I care about. It is…when the divines wanted me to have many children, it felt wrong. To treat sex as not a thing that binds you to another, I mean. I do not think I am interested.”

  “I can hardly blame you,” Dianthe said. “But you never know. I swore I wasn’t going to marry, and now…it’s the right time for me, I suppose. Not that I want to tell you your business. If you’re not interested, I don’t think anyone should try to change your mind.”

  “I understand.” Kalanath turned and leaned against the rail. “I think we are underway.”

  Sienne followed his gaze. The sailors’ actions were as impenetrable to her as ever, but they did seem to be moving with greater intent. The dun-colored sails had come unfurled like drab butterflies, catching the wind with the sound of someone beating a rug, whop whop whop. The shore, already distant enough that the people scurrying around it looked like two-legged beetles, now drifted past too slowly to dizzy her, but fast enough the movement was obvious. Sienne sucked in an excited breath. Finally, their journey had begun.

  4

  When the others went below, Sienne stayed on deck with Alaric, watching the ship break the waves, churning up a froth of foam that boiled around the prow. Occasionally, she looked back at Fioretti, dwindling into the distance, until it was nothing more than a brown scum on the water’s surface. Then she watched the waves again. “I hope we see kelpies,” she said.

  “Not until we reach the ocean. They’re not fond of the Jalenus Sea.” Alaric pointed. “There’s a school of fish trailing us, though.”

  Sienne leaned far forward over the rail. A long mass of purple and red fish, their colors muted by the seawater, paralleled their course, though the fish couldn’t quite match the Wave’s Crest’s speed and were falling behind already. “Oh,” she breathed, “how beautiful.”

  “Beautiful, yes, but dangerous too,” Alaric said. “Those sea serpents the sailors mentioned aren’t as beautiful when they’re trying to eat you.”

  “Now you’ve gone and spoiled it,” Sienne teased. “It can’t be more dangerous than the wilderness.”

  “Dangerous in a different way. Even the coastal waters, which is all I’ve ever sailed, have their dangers. And the open ocean…you couldn’t pay me to make the crossing to the southern continent.”

  “What if it were the only way to fulfill your quest?”

  “Thank Sisyletus that’s not the case. All right, I’d make the crossing for that. But I wouldn’t be happy about it. There are worse things than sea serpents out there.”

  “Don’t tell me about them. I’ll be happier not knowing.” She turned her back on the sea and leaned against the rail to watch the sailors going about their business. Some of them clambered up ropes to the bars crossing the masts that held the sails, and she shuddered, thinking of how much falling from those heights would hurt. Many of the sailors were shirtless, and most of the women wore halter tops that barely covered their midriffs. They looked comfortably cool, and Sienne was just considering whether she had a shirt she could sacrifice to make one when Alaric said, “Interesting.”

  “What is?”

  “There’s a ship following us.”

  Sienne turned. A ship with faded blue sails that nearly matched the color of the true summer sky lay some distance behind them, far enough that it looked like a toy Sienne could balance on the palm of her hand. “How do you know it’s following?”

  “I suppose I don’t. It probably just left right after we did, and the run to Sileas isn’t uncommon. But I don’t believe in coincidence.”

  “I don’t believe Master Delucco could have found out about our journey and put together a voyage to follow us that quickly. And who else would care?”

  “True. It’s unlikely to be pirates after Captain Talvanus’s cargo, either.” He blew out his breath and put his arms around her. “I’m just used to thinking everyone’s out to get us.”

  “Because usually everyone is out to get us. It makes sense.” She put her hands over his where they rested on her stomach. “I think we’re faster than they are, anyway.”

  “Is it bad that that relieves my mind?”

  A bell jangled nearby, the sound carrying clearly to Sienne’s ears. “What’s that?”

  “Dinner bell, probably.” Several of the sailors had left their mysterious jobs and were streaming toward the smaller hole in the deck. “Shall we see what delights the cook has prepared?”

  Kalanath, Dianthe, and Perrin were already seated when Sienne and Alaric descended the ladder. They had a table to themselves near their quarters. “I think we are neither fish nor fowl,” Perrin said, nodding at the nearest table, which was packed full of sailors. “They are not keen on fraternizing, as Captain Talvanus implied, but the captain dines in her quarters with her officers and we are not invited to join them either. Not that I feel slighted. It is simply an observation.”

  The door to the opposite cubby opened, and a woman emerged, yawning as if she’d been asleep. She straightened her loose shirt and strolled across to take a seat at their table. “By the looks of you, you’re my fellow passengers,” she said. She was Omeiran, but spoke Fellic like a native, with only a hint of sibilance to her th’s. “My name is Ghrita Chakhorkurda. Have you met the other fellow? He’s suffering from seasickness. His name is Harchan or Harchow or something.” She swung her leg over the bench and smiled at all of them, making her narrow eyes almost slits above her high, sharp cheekbones. Sienne smiled back to conceal how intimidating she found the woman’s brash, open manner.

  Alaric made introductions, ending with, “Are you headed for Chirantan, too?”

  “What
, because I’m Omeiran?” Ghrita chuckled. “I am, actually. Headed home after a few years away. And you, fellow countryman—have you been away from Omeira long?”

  “Six years,” Kalanath said, curtly enough that Sienne would have taken the hint to back off. Ghrita just laughed.

  “That’s a long time for someone as young as you,” she said. “Homesick?”

  Kalanath gave her a long, level stare. “Were you?”

  “Not really. I don’t feel much attachment to the place. Home is where you make it, right?”

  Kalanath spared a swift glance for his companions. “That is true.”

  Sailors bearing stacks of shallow tin bowls and fistfuls of cutlery passed between the tables, handing them out. The man who served their table did so in silence, without a word of greeting for the strangers, but also without any sign of irritation at having to cater to outsiders. More sailors lugging enormous pots that smelled deliciously of chicken and baskets of hard rolls emerged from the door Ajhital had said was the galley. One of them was Brigit. To Sienne’s surprise, she headed directly for their table, bypassing others to get there. The sailor dipped her head in greeting and began ladling out big chunks of chicken in thick golden broth.

  “Hope you like chicken and dumplings,” she said, handing Dianthe the basket of rolls. “Two each. We eat well the night we leave Fioretti. Most of the time it’s boiled salt pork in gravy.”

  “It smells wonderful,” Dianthe said.

  “There’s fresh fruit for after,” Brigit said. “Though we try to keep stocked on that so long as we’re doing the coastal run. It’s after we leave Chirantan that fresh food is limited. Not a lot of places to stop on the eastern coast.”

  “You don’t have any wizards on board, do you?” Sienne asked.

  “Aside from you? No.”

  “Because a wizard could jaunt to and from Fioretti and bring anything you like, if she was familiar enough with the ship.”

  Brigit leaned the heavy iron pot on the table. “Even though the ship is moving?”

  “Everything’s moving, all the time, as the world turns. This is just a little more obvious.”

  “Huh.” Brigit hefted the pot. “Interesting. You might could tell the captain. Who knows if there’s a need for that?” She nodded again and walked away.

  “A wizard?” Ghrita said. “Why are you on a ship? Couldn’t you just—” She wiggled her fingers in a way Sienne guessed was meant to be magical.

  “I don’t have the right spell,” Sienne said. She dropped her hard biscuits into the gravy as she saw the sailors do and let them sit there, soaking it up, while she forked up chunks of juicy chicken.

  “I hope you did not just volunteer yourself as the captain’s personal transportation,” Perrin said in a low voice.

  “Surely not. Captain Talvanus strikes me as too responsible to go jaunting off whenever she feels like it,” Sienne said. “And I’m still too tired, anyway. I really should make more of an effort to find transport, though. That would let me take up to five people at once. Perfect for us.”

  “Did you ask at the university?” Dianthe said.

  “I did. It’s not a common spell outside the scrapper community. Not very common within it, either. But the university wizards didn’t know it.” She used her fork to break the biscuits into bite-sized pieces, saturated with thick chicken gravy. Heavenly. Leofus wouldn’t be ashamed to serve this meal in his own kitchen.

  “It will have to wait until we return from Omeira,” Alaric said. “I’ve heard there are wizards in Chirantan, but they’re all foreigners and don’t do much more than minor wizardry.”

  “It is true, Omeirans do not have wizard magic,” Kalanath said. “We believe it is reserved for those who—pardon me—are not one with God.”

  “So my doing wizardry won’t make anyone angry?” Sienne asked.

  “Only in the usual way, which is that you do magic to hurt someone, and I think you will not do this.” Kalanath tipped his bowl to his lips and scooped the last drops of gravy into his mouth. Sienne, after a moment’s thought, mimicked him, trying not to feel self-conscious about her poor manners.

  “That’s not entirely true,” Ghrita said, mopping up the last of her broth. “There are those in Omeira who believe wizardry offends God. Your existence alone will upset them. But they wouldn’t attack you, don’t worry about that. They’d just ostracize you.”

  “I am rather more concerned about how they will view me, a worshipper of Averran,” Perrin said. “I do not intend to make a secret of my beliefs.”

  “I do not know,” Kalanath said, glancing at Ghrita. “Where I…used to live, they are…it is when you are gracious to someone you consider lesser, like a child speaking his first words.”

  “Magnanimous, perhaps,” Perrin said. “Or indulgent.”

  “Yes. They think they are better and do not feel threatened by Rafellish worship. I was taught that worshipping God through another is…weakness. Or it is that the worship is itself weaker, not allowing God full scope to exercise Her will. But also that some need this beginning step.” Kalanath shrugged. “It is not a thing I believe anymore, after this last year.”

  “Understood,” Perrin said. “So my worship would not be considered blasphemy?”

  “By some,” Ghrita said. She nodded at Kalanath. “I don’t know where you come from, but that’s not a common belief. It’s more usual to disdain worshippers of the avatars as not truly believing in God. Some people would go so far as to say your God is false.” She shrugged. “That’s more likely in the smaller cities than in the capitals of the rakhyans.”

  “The rakhyans?” Dianthe said.

  “Omeira isn’t as unified as Rafellin. It’s more a collection of city-states—like your dukedoms, but without a king ruling the lot. A rakhyan is one large city and several small towns, all under the protection of the rakhyanam or rakhyani. Chirantan is the largest of the rakhyans.” Ghrita stood and stretched as unselfconsciously as a cat. “I think I’ll go check on what’s-his-name, see if he wants food. Unlikely, but I feel sorry for him. He looked miserable even before he stepped on board.” With a smile that lingered longest on Alaric, she walked away. Sienne watched her go, envying her loose-limbed grace, then felt stupid about envying her.

  The meal was coming to a close, and someone retrieved their plates and utensils, carrying them back through the door to the galley. Sienne thought about offering to help wash up using the minor magic of summoning water, but decided she was tired enough not to set a precedent she’d regret later. She stepped away from the table, then watched in wonder as it was winched up to the rafters, folding neatly in on itself. “So clever,” she said.

  “Maybe if we get to know Captain Talvanus better, she’ll show you her cabin,” Dianthe said. “Ships are designed to be storm-worthy, and they have all sorts of clever ways to stow furniture so it won’t fly around and kill someone in a bad squall.”

  “Some captains have beds rather than hammocks,” Alaric said. “They’re suspended in frames that move with the ship’s motion, like a cradle. Very comfortable.”

  Sienne eyed him. “And you would know this, how?”

  Alaric reddened and wouldn’t say any more.

  “The captain on that same voyage to New Solis was very appreciative of Alaric’s…prowess,” Dianthe said with a grin. “After we fought off raiders, I mean.”

  Sienne smirked and poked Alaric in the side. “You have more stories than I imagined.”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to hear them,” Alaric said. “Let’s go topside and look for kelpies.”

  “You’re also a master of changing the subject.” One of the sailors approached with a basket of fresh peaches, and she took one. “And we can all watch the sunset.”

  “I will remain here, if you would not mind lighting our quarters,” Perrin said. “I should communicate with Cressida, though I have little to say as yet.”

  “Of course.” Sienne poked her head into the cubby and made a handful of li
ghts that she sent flying to the corners of the ceiling. Their cold white light made the small room look bigger, though not by much. Perrin took a seat cross-legged on his bedroll and nodded thanks.

  The rest of them climbed the ladder and returned to the spot they’d claimed near the figurehead, which continued to be out of the sailors’ way. Sienne bit into her peach and licked up the juice that dribbled down her chin. “I wonder what his communication with Cressida is like,” she said, idly taking another bite. “Will they talk to each other?”

  “I almost hope not,” Dianthe said with a shudder. “I remember having that blessing and how confusing it was, having all your voices in my head.”

  “But it must be different if there are just two of you. Intimate, maybe.” Sienne finished her peach and tossed the pit over the side. “I hope it’s not just him telling her things. Don’t you wish they could reconcile?”

  “If it is a thing they want, yes,” Kalanath said. “But I do not think they can marry again if his father is against it. I do not understand how Master Delucco can own his grandchildren.”

  “Perrin wasn’t even his heir,” Alaric said. “So it’s not like Delphine and Noel are going to inherit the family property. Some people just like controlling others.” He wound up and flung his peach pit as far as he could. It sailed away, a dark speck against the amber and pink sunset.

  “Alcander will figure something out,” Sienne declared, “and once the Delucco children aren’t Master Delucco’s property anymore, that will free Perrin and Cressida to marry again. If they want.”

  “Your brother must be remarkable, for you to have such faith in him,” Dianthe said.

  “He’s much smarter than the rest of us, and he’s passionate about justice. That will matter more than experience in this case, because I don’t imagine most of the people with experience care about overturning the law.”

  “I think you’re right.” Dianthe sucked the last of the juice off her own peach pit and tossed it away. “Alaric, what are you looking at?”

  “That ship,” he said. “It’s closer.”