Chosen Champion

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Chosen Champion Page 20

by Elise Kova


  Or maybe the real reason Vi made no motion from the balcony was that she didn’t entirely believe her transgressions had been forgiven.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Vi had every intention of enjoying her time resting and relaxing in the days that followed. She was between two major stops on her long journey to Meru. She’d finally made it to Norin and secured a vessel. And, to top it all off, she was somewhere safe where she could enjoy the luxury of letting her guard down.

  As it turned out, doing nothing was utterly agonizing.

  The first day, Vi roamed the Le’Dan mansion. There were rooms on rooms—some large, others small, some crammed to the brim with furniture and artifacts like small museums, others mostly empty save for a single table or lonely chair perched on a platform like a throne. One of the handmaids, Samri, took note of her wandering and became Vi’s impromptu guide.

  She told Vi the history of the house, confirming Vi’s earlier speculations that it dated back over a hundred years and the whole ridge had once been Le’Dan property. Vi listened with half an ear, distracted when her nose picked up a familiar scent. Parchment, ink, leather, wood—all the glorious trimmings of a library. Sure enough there was one, and Samri led her right to it.

  Vi spent the next two days in the Le’Dan library pouring over ship schematics, tidal records, island maps, trade manifests, and any other book on sailing she could find. If she was going to set sail, she may as well learn all she could about what she was up against. It made for a valuable distraction… but a distraction nonetheless.

  Things still didn’t feel right between her and Jayme.

  “Samri.” The woman was rarely far now, currently stationed at the door of the delicately decorated breakfast room. “Where’s Jayme this morning?” Normally, Vi wouldn’t worry about Jayme not showing up for breakfast. But this was now the second day in a row she’d been gone. Coupled with Vi’s simmering worry…

  “I think she went out for a walk this morning, ma’am.” Samri lowered her eyes when she answered. She couldn’t be much more than thirteen, but her long black hair was pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and she stood as though she carried more years on her small shoulders than Vi.

  It was a stark contrast to Ellene’s reluctant transition to womanhood. Vi lightly touched the bracelet around her wrist. Perhaps she should write? No, she couldn’t. Even Ellene couldn’t know of her plans, and Vi knew she was just grasping for an excuse not to look for Jayme.

  “Do you know where she went?” Vi asked, lavishing a bread pocket with deep crimson jam.

  “I believe she said she was heading down to the docks.”

  Vi took a bite of the bread and chewed through the bright flavors of strawberry and warm wheat as she debated. Perhaps she should leave Jayme to her own devices… But Jayme had said all was well between them. Vi wanted to see Norin and reassure herself Jayme had been sincere. Going out would achieve both of those goals.

  “I think I’ll join her,” Vi mused aloud.

  “Very good, ma’am. If you won’t need me for anything else here, I’ll see to setting out clothes for you.”

  “Thank you, Samri.” Vi nodded her dismissal.

  Breakfast finished, a quick freshening up, one fresh set of clothes, and Vi was on her way. The guard at the gate did nothing to stop her this time. In fact, he showed extreme deference, the likes of which Vi would expect a servant to show her as the crown princess, not as Yullia. The perks of being a guest of Lord Le’Dan.

  Like when she had first entered Norin, the city was still waking up. Most of the opulent areas of town were quiet; the shops catering to people with more gold than sense were still. Not far from the port was a store bearing the name “Le’Dan” emblazoned in gold on the door. Vi paused, looking at the glimmering pieces the shopkeeper was setting out for the day. The Le’Dan family truly did good work. Vi wondered how many of the strange, sparkling stones had come illegally from Meru.

  Further down were the more conventional storefronts, which eventually gave way to warehouses and fish auctions. Before she knew it, Vi found herself standing before the greatest port in the world.

  The docks were well alive by this hour of the morning. Men and women with arms as thick as Vi’s thighs carried barrels and hoisted heavy lines of rope, carrying them from place to place. At the far end of the docks there seemed to be some kind of bidding war, if the shouting crowd was any indication. Merchants bartered with other merchants, peering into crates and haggling over the contents inside. To Vi’s fascination and mild horror, some of those contents were still able to knock against the walls.

  The air was scented with brine, fish, and sweat. Birds of all shapes and sizes squawked, filling the air and lining ship rails and ropes alike. Underneath the hum ships murmured, quietly creaking and straining against their ropes, as if trying to return to the open sea. Most flew flags of Solaris on their tallest masts. But some had red sails of the West. Others had what she recognized as Western family crests dyed into the canvas.

  Vi wandered, looking for what would be a Le’Dan ship… Perhaps the ship that would take her across the Barrier Islands.

  “Hey, watch yourself!” a man barked at her.

  “Sorry…” Vi mumbled an apology, distracted by the man’s size. He was nearly as large as Fallor had been. There were people of every shape and size, surely. But some of the men seemed unnaturally large and hardened by the salt spray.

  He continued on gruffly, paying her no mind. Vi turned, looking to a woman who was lounging against a pillar. A smoking pipe hung from her lips.

  “Excuse me.” Vi approached. “Do you know where Le’Dan ships are?”

  “Le’Dan?” The woman took her pipe from her mouth, spitting on the ground at the name. “Don’t go looking for work there, girl.”

  “I’m not a girl.” The way the woman looked her up and down showed apparent disagreement.

  “They’re swindlers. They’ll risk the lives of their crew for the sake of some coin, running the routes they run.”

  “I’m not looking for work. I’m looking for a friend, actually.”

  “Then your friend is the swindler.” Vi sighed and started walking away. “They’re back on the northern side. Go that way,” the woman called after her, somewhat begrudgingly.

  “Thank you,” Vi shouted back.

  Sure enough, back on the Northern side, Vi found two vessels flying Le’Dan flags. They were smaller than she would’ve expected, dwarfed by most boats anchored at port. Clearly the Le’Dans favored speed and nimbleness above all else. The smaller of the two ships had the words Dawn Skipper painted along its hull. It had two masts and four portholes on the side, and its figurehead was a simple, needle-like spear, keeping with the minimalistic look of the entire boat, save for the aft rudder. That was of comparable scale to the ships nearly three times the Dawn Skipper’s size.

  Was this really the best she had to get her to Meru? Vi suddenly felt a kernel of doubt at her plan. This ship looked like it would tip in a modest swell.

  “… good, I’m glad everything sounds like it’s going smoothly.”

  That was Jayme’s voice. Vi slowly rounded the hull of the Dawn Skipper. The dock stretched down its side, between the two Le’Dan vessels.

  “Everything’s according to plan,” an unfamiliar voice responded. “I don’t think there’s any reason to think we’ll be delayed.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Pleasure, as always.”

  Jayme was talking with a blonde woman who stood on the gangplank of the Dawn Skipper. Whatever conversation they’d been having had just ended. Jayme continued off the vessel, and the woman returned onto it.

  Vi paused, debating if she should hide somewhere. She didn’t want to upset Jayme by seeming nosy, or eavesdropping. But lying was likely worse. It wasn’t Vi’s fault she happened on something. She hadn’t been intentionally lurking.

  Before Vi could make up her mind, Jayme spotted her. “V—Yullia.” She seemed s
urprised. “What’re you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see the port.” Vi shrugged. “And the Le’Dan ships.” She didn’t know why she didn’t just come out and say that she wanted to see Jayme as well, and make sure everything was all right.

  “They’re impressive, don’t you think?”

  “Smaller than I would’ve expected.”

  “They’re fast,” Jayme assured her. “So I’m told.” Jayme continued walking away from the ship. Vi glanced behind, but the other woman had vanished. As if sensing Vi’s confusion, Jayme offered an explanation without being asked. “Look, I trust Erion well enough… but I wanted to see it for myself. If we’re getting on one of these things, I wanted to speak to the crew, make sure everything looked good. I’m not the most versed in vessels, but I at least wanted to know what we were in for.”

  “Oh… So that’s what you’ve been up to.” Well, that made sense. Vi felt suddenly silly for doubting her friend. “Good thinking.”

  “It’s my job to look out for you.” Jayme linked arms with her, and Vi’s worries were finally laid to rest. “Now, let’s sample some of the real Western fare. Not the fancy stuff Erion is serving us.”

  She had never eaten anything more delicious than mannik.

  Vi had gorged herself on two of them and was now going back for a third from the street stall two alleyways off the docks in the poorer section of town. The woman behind the stall took her third coin and lifted the lid off the tall cooking basket to her right. Steam billowed up like a chimney, filling the air with the sweet aroma of sauced meats and steamed bread. She handed two more mannik to Vi with a smile. Of course she was nice to them, they were likely her best customers today.

  “You’re going to explode.” Jayme half-spoke, half-laughed at her. She was perched on a wide stoop leading to the back door of a modest home. The door itself had multiple locks—all rusted and weeping with age. So they didn’t seem to be at any risk of being in the way anytime soon.

  “Not possible when I’m eating the most delicious thing on earth.” Vi took up her space next to her, passing Jayme hers. She took another large bite, letting the gravy from the minced meat dribble down her chin.

  “It is pretty good,” Jayme admitted, nibbling the side of her own bun.

  “More than pretty good,” Vi insisted. “This is better than candied nut rolls during the solstice.”

  “Well, I’m glad we got to try some before we left.”

  “It won’t be long now, will it?” Vi wiped her mouth with the heel of her hand, relishing the feeling of not being scolded for the unladylike act.

  “A few more days and we should be off to the Crescent Continent,” Jayme agreed.

  “You won’t find any ships going there,” the elderly woman spoke up from across the alley. Both girls turned sharply, not realizing they’d been overheard. At their attention, she continued. “The Crescent Continent has blocked all travel on account of the White Death. Bold, since they gave it to us to begin with.”

  “Is there proof—that they gave it to us?” Vi might already know better, but she was curious to hear what misinformation was currently in fashion.

  “What else could it be? Take it from an old woman…” She shook her head, as if disappointed. “I’ve been around these parts for many years and have heard many tales. That is a world wild with magic. It’s why they only ever allowed our traders in and out of a single port on the Barrier Isles—they didn’t want us to see what they had. Where else would a disease that first targeted a sorcerer’s channels come from than a land like that?”

  An evil god bent on destruction? Vi thought loudly. Outwardly, she merely shrugged. Jayme remained silent.

  “Especially now that it’s afflicting non-sorcerers, none of the sensible ships are sailing to the Barrier Isles.” The elderly woman knelt down with a soft “ooph,” hoisting a tray of mannik from within her cart. She continued to speak as she restocked the steaming basket. “And those who go even that far are only the most foolish and greedy seafarers.”

  “Foolish and greedy?”

  “Greedy, because they say that unscrupulous merchants on both sides will ignore the ban, meeting in the middle at abandoned atolls for the sake of goods. Nothing hikes the price of foreign wares like a trade ban.” That was exactly what Vi imagined Erion was doing. “Foolish, because those waters have always belonged to Adela.”

  Adela. Vi’s blood turned to ice. The mere mention of the name filled her with thoughts of Fallor and the last vision of her father. “What do you know of Adela?”

  “You don’t know the stories?” The woman huffed at her.

  “Adela terrorized the seas surrounding the main continent for years,” Jayme supplied. “But that was…” She thought for a long moment.

  “More than a century and then some ago.” A man who had been ferrying trash out the back door of one of the restaurants to a bin by the old woman’s mannik stand joined in the conversation. “Adela is long dead, and don’t go speaking her name around these parts. It brings storms and bad luck—though luckily not the pirate queen herself.”

  “Evil doesn’t die, only bides its time,” the elderly woman cautioned.

  He gave a wave and started back for his store, pausing on his own landing adjacent to where Vi and Jayme sat. “The woman is batty and you’re batty for believing her if you think Adela lives.” Before Vi could speak in protest, defending the kind old woman who had given her the most delicious food known to man, he continued. “But she’s right that those are pirate-infested waters, worse now they can pray on vessels traveling without the Empire’s protection. I wouldn’t be surprised if an impostor took up Adela’s mantle. I don’t know what test of courage you’re looking to embark on. But turn away now before you stick out your neck too far and lose your head for it.”

  Vi took a bite of mannik, chewing it over as Jayme thanked the man for his warnings. The woman threw a rude gesture at the man’s back.

  “We should get back.” Jayme stood.

  “Sure.” Vi rose to her feet as well, shoving the rest of her mannik into her mouth in one bite. But it seemed they could not escape without one more remark from the watchful woman.

  “You are neither foolish or greedy.” Her eyes settled right on Vi. “You are hopeful, and that is far more dangerous.”

  “Thank you for the warnings,” Jayme said, practically tugging Vi along. When they were out of earshot she added, with a glance over her shoulder, “The man was right—she’s batty.”

  “You think so?” Vi looked back as well.

  “If Adela were alive she’d be… at least eighty? Ninety? Perhaps even over a hundred. So even if she is still among the living, claiming she sails the seas as a pirate is downright insane.”

  “So you don’t believe the old woman… Or Fallor?”

  “Nah. Though what the man said rings of truth. I’m sure someone claiming to be Adela is terrorizing the seas and thriving on the notoriety. Adela is the stuff of Southern bedtime stories meant to scare children into behaving.”

  “Is she really so infamous?”

  Jayme gave a nod, continuing unprompted: “She was the most notorious thief in Solarin—perhaps that’s why you haven’t really heard of her, growing up in the North. Just when the King Romulin’s guard was closing in on her for a whole number of crimes, they say she fled to the coast, to Oparium. From there, she turned her attention to the seas. As a Waterrunner, she was unstoppable on the waves.”

  “A sorcerer?” Jayme made an affirmative humming noise at Vi’s interjection. “Just what the South needs—needed—another sorcerer to hate.”

  “This was before the War of the Crystal Caverns,” Jayme reminded her. “I think most of the sorcerer hatred came from that.”

  “From all I’ve read, I’m inclined to agree,” Vi muttered. “So you’re not afraid, then?”

  “Oh I’m terrified.” Jayme shoved her hands in her pockets. “Of storms, and swells, and backstabbers, and pirates, and whatever awaits us on t
he Crescent Continent. But the one thing I’m not afraid of are ghosts.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Two more days passed before their time ran out.

  “Miss Yullia!”

  Vi was jerked awake with a rough shake of her shoulder. Samri stood at her bedside. “What is it?” Vi came instantly awake, pushing herself away from the nest of pillows.

  “We have to go,” Samri whispered hurriedly.

  In the lower floor of the manor, Vi heard loud voices. There was a commotion, complete with doors slamming and the rumble of booted feet. It was a wonder she’d slept through it at all.

  “What’s happening?”

  “There’s no time, please, come with me.” Samri held out a folded cloak. “There’s clothes at the docks. Wear this until you get there.”

  Vi stood at the edge of her bed, hurriedly donning the cloak and rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Samri—”

  She was cut short by a voice.

  “Vi?” Jayme called. There was a knock on the door. “Do you hear the commotion? Should we leave?”

  Vi opened the door quickly and motioned to Samri. “Already one step ahead of you.”

  “We must go,” Samri whispered, standing at a wall. One of the panels had been opened, a servant’s passage exposed. Vi wasn't even surprised by its presence.

  “Should we grab our things?” Jayme asked. She already had her sword strapped to her hip. Vi had the journal of maps and notes on the sea in hand. They’d each gone for their most precious items.

  “Samri said there are supplies at the docks,” Vi said as she hurriedly entered the open passage.

  “There’s no time,” Samri repeated, practically pleading. “Please, come.”

  Samri pulled the door closed behind them and latched it. There was already a candle flickering in a holder on the wall, and Samri slipped her finger through its ring before scuttling ahead. “This way, please.”

  Above them, Vi heard voices—men and women with the gruff militaristic tone of soldiers. She heard the words “princess” and “here,” but not enough else to make out much more. Vi frowned; they’d been outed. She was right from the start not to trust the staff. If she’d come out with her name to Erion sooner, perhaps they wouldn’t have even had the six days that passed.

 

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