After my nearly fatal healing attempt on Lord Garett, my Uncle Risean and the fairy Braisley had insisted on a few lessons in the art of healing. Turns out, healing with magic could be accomplished by either Commanding or Becoming the forces of health and life. Of course, they could only employ the former method, but I preferred the latter, since it allowed me to gauge precisely how much to give and when to stop.
Now, as the woman flailed beneath my hand, I could feel the blood stanching, her/my flesh knitting back together, and the skin closing over the wound. I retreated slightly. Now the skin was whole. Now even the bloodstains had melted away, and the torn fabric of her clothing was mending before my eyes. I wrenched myself free of my magic entirely, satisfied with the results. The entire process hadn’t taken more than a few seconds.
I slipped an arm around her shoulders and helped the woman to sit, propping her up against the wall. Ignoring the Simathe Chief Captain, I squatted next to her, studying her while we both caught our breaths.
I guessed she was fairly tall, at least five or six inches taller than me. A gold stud pierced her upper lip, and two silver hoops dangled from each earlobe. Above those were rosebud studs also made of silver. A thick scarlet streak stood out like a splash of blood against the golden-blond of her hair. Heavy kohl lined her eyes, and jade green tattoos sprawled across both cheeks and the backs of her hands. She wasn’t pretty: her nose was a bit too large, and her lips much too narrow. Still, strength was evident in every line of her lean, lithe body, and her toenails were stained a brilliant shade of red.
“I’m Hannah,” I said after a moment, reaching out to touch her arm. “Who are you?”
Her dark-rimmed eyes widened as she stared back at me. “You have healed me,” she exclaimed incredulously. “One touch of your hands, and I am well! Your speech, your touch, your eyes—they betray you, gracious lady. Is true? You are she who we have looked for? She who is?”
I blinked, surprised. “I-I’m not sure. Who are you? Who are you looking for?”
She climbed shakily to her feet, bracing her hands against the wall for support. Her lovely, awestruck eyes never left my face.
“We are they who search for the second that follows the first. For centuries, we comb the waters of sea and river, always looking for her. You are she, yes?”
It struck me then with perfect clarity. I may have never heard of these people, I may not have known this woman’s name, and I certainly didn’t recognize her peculiar accent, but I knew exactly what she meant.
“Yes,” I said humbly. “I’m she. I’m who you’ve been looking for.”
Pirate Queen
She was no coward, this woman, despite having just endured such a close brush with death. Pushing her way through the mass of fighting men and women (there were as many women as men, it seemed), she forced her way to the center mast, which she shimmied partway up. Tangling herself in the ropes, above the heads of those on deck, she clung to her precarious perch, swaying lightly with the pitch of the ship and the force of the wind.
Freeing one hand, she reached for the silver trumpet that dangled from her wide leather belt. Bringing it to her lips, she blew, producing a clear, steady blast that sliced through the din of battle. Instantly, every man and woman on board dressed similarly to her dropped their weapons and fell to their knees, facing her. Bewildered, the sailors of The Captain’s Lady, as well as the Simathe, slowly lowered their own weapons but kept a close eye on their opponents who’d so abruptly ceased to fight.
On deck, total stillness reigned. Restraining my wind-tossed hair with one hand, I looked up at the forceful woman swaying in the riggings, waiting to see what she’d do next.
“Hear me, Galandorf! Over there,” she lifted an arm, pointing straight at me, “is a woman not of us. Yet is she not? Look upon her.”
They did. I stayed quiet, letting them scrutinize me all they wanted.
“Now, back to me.” Their gazes returned to her. “She healed me,” the woman went on breathlessly. “By the mere touch of her hand, I am made alive. She is the one we have looked for, yes?”
Silence.
Just then, the ship rolled, knocking me off balance. I straightened quickly but not before my necklace had slipped out from under my shirt. For a moment, it swung free, and a bright beam of sunlight caught it. Suddenly, the stone was a blazing ball of light, bigger than my hand. Just as suddenly, I shifted: the necklace slid away, and the glow disappeared.
I hadn’t done it, this trick with the sunbeam. Was nature itself now affirming my identity? Or had the necklace somehow done this?
Whatever had happened, it was enough. With one accord, these people—the Galandorf—rose to their feet. Exclamations and questions poured out in a tide.
“It is she, is it not? She who we look for?”
“Is it? Is it she?”
“Can we have found her? Is it possible?”
“Truly, yes?”
Louder than them all, the woman in the rigging exclaimed, “Is there need for further proof?” Clambering swiftly, easily, down the ropes, she ran out onto the middle of the deck, placing herself amongst her excited people. “Look! Look at her eyes: Of two worlds, yet one, a sign shall be given that you may know…”
Was she quoting from a prophecy of their own? I hadn’t heard them before, but the lines sounded like a foretelling.
“Look again at me.” Pivoting, she turned slowly on bare feet so they could see her from every angle. “Strong and well, I am, yes? She healed me. With one touch of her pretty hand. You there, Golden Fox—” She singled out a bearded man with narrow shoulders— “you saw me fall, is not so? Did you think me done for?”
“I did, Captainess.”
The woman faced me. “And she will heal you, that you may live. Is this not what the prophecies say?”
“It is, Captainess,” another tall woman affirmed.
“This is she, and no mistake. Truly, it is so.” So saying, the man called Golden Fox come forward. Bowing low, he kissed the deck before my bare feet. “Oh, Great Lady, may it be said that I, Golden Fox Galad, was first among the Galandorf to offer you fealty.”
“And I, the second.” The woman I’d healed was swift to kneel next to the man, kissing the deck as he had done. “I, Silver Rose Galad, First Captainess among the Galandorf, was the second. Hereby I do pledge my sword, my ships, my nets, my catch, my plunder, the might of my arms, and all of my heart to you, Great Lady of Land and Sea.”
Before I could say anything, each and every one of the Galandorf was coming forward to bow low and swear fealty. When the last, a tiny girl named Golden Waves, shorter even than me and looking scarcely over the age of sixteen, had done so, I stooped and took Silver Rose and Golden Fox by the hands and pulled them to their feet. The others rose as well, and I found myself facing a least a couple dozen Galandorf, each one as wild looking as their Captainess. Who they were and where they’d come from, I had no idea. However, they’d accepted me as Artan with an easy, almost childlike faith. No demands to see me perform like a magician in a show. No arguments. No extended discussions. They believed in their First Captainess and now in me. I was honored. And humbled.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely, “for the trust you’ve placed in me today. I-I’ve never seen anything like it, and I thank each and every one of you for the oaths you’ve made. I’ll gladly accept them. And you.”
Silver Rose touched me lightly on the arm. “Great Lady, if it be pleasing to you, I am offering you my ship. Is my pleasure to ferry you wherever you have wish to go.”
Spying motion out of the corner of my eye, I glanced over at Ilgard and caught the subtle shake of his head. Puzzled, I returned my attention to the Captainess beside me. Her close call with death had left her pale. The tattoos on her cheeks, as well as a light smattering of freckles across her nose and cheekbones, stood out starkly against the white skin of her face. Instinct was telling me to trust her. Nevertheless, there was simply too much at stake to simply disregard Ilgard
’s opinion, especially before hearing him out.
“Um, before I answer that, will you excuse me for a second? I need to have a word with the Simathe High-Chief.”
“Ah yes. He is your soldmey, is true?”
“My soldmey? What’s that?”
Cocking her head, she looked at me curiously. “He is not?”
“What?”
I looked helplessly at Ilgard and Norband, but their guarded expressions were giving nothing away.
“He is? Or he is not?” the First Captainess persisted.
“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
“The Simathe, over there.” She jerked her chin towards Ilgard, setting her hoop earrings to dancing. “Surely he is soldmey? Our legends say, The black warrior will fight by her side. He is black warrior?”
I thought of the two Simathe with their alien black hair and eyes, as well as Ilgard’s and my unique situation in being Joined.
“Yes, I suppose he is,” I agreed.
“Ah, then he is indeed your soldmey. The one who fights at your side. Your life’s blood, your heartbeat, your other half. Your soldmey.”
Now she had my full attention.
“Do you have a soldmey?” I asked her.
“But of course.” The ship dipped on a wave, making me stumble a little. Silver Rose rode out the motion as if she hadn’t felt it. Singling out a handsome, bearded man with a tattoo of a snake writhing across the bridge of his nose, she said, “My soldmey, Golden Eyes. Ten years we have been wed.”
“Oh, I see. A soldmey is your husband or wife.”
The look on her face was smothered exasperation. Clearly she didn’t want to offend the woman she’d just sworn allegiance to, but she was also getting frustrated with my inability to understand.
“No, Great Lady, for I am his soldmey, as well.”
All right, now I was confused. Unfortunately, there simply wasn’t time to hash the matter out. Laying a hand on her arm, I said, “Look, I would love to continue this conversation with you later, but right now I really do need to have a word with the High-Chief. If you don’t mind, can we pick this up later on?”
Her eyes twinkled. “Certainly, Lady. As you wish.”
“Thank you.”
She stepped aside, and so did the others, clearing a path across the deck. When I joined the Simathe lords at the opposite railing, Norband discreetly left, allowing Ilgard and I space to talk. Relaxing a hip against the weathered wood, I caught my breath and released it in a noisy puff of air.
“Boy, what a day.”
“Aye,” he agreed solemnly.
I glanced about the main deck and saw how the two groups of sailors were going about covering and retrieving their dead, as well as treating their wounded. I hadn’t heard any commands by any officers; they’d simply begun doing what needed doing.
People don’t need near as much instruction as they sometimes think they do, I reflected. A lot of the problems brought to me, as the Artan, could be settled every bit as easily if folks would be like these sailors and use a little common sense.
“My lady?”
Ilgard’s quiet question derailed my train of thought. Yes, we did need to have a word.
“Why didn’t you want me to accept the Galandorf Captainess’s offer to sail on her ship?”
He stared down at me as if I should’ve already figured this out for myself.
“They are pirates.”
I swung back to him. “Are they? So what? Nobody’s perfect. They still swore fealty to me. They didn’t even hesitate once they figured out who I am. It’s almost as if they were waiting for me.”
“You heard them, yourself,” I went on. “All those prophecies she quoted. If they have foretellings like that, if they’ve really been looking for me, they can’t be completely evil. I think we should talk to them and find out more.”
No response.
“Ilgard? C’mon, what do you say? Can we just talk to them?”
His eyes narrowed. “They are pirates, my lady. They rob, they steal, they kill. Do you know how often the Galandorf and the Simathe have crossed swords?”
Frustrated, I jerked away from the railing. “Yes, they may be pirates, but you’re a Simathe. How many people mistrusted you before I came along? How many still do? I didn’t want to trust you, either, but eventually I had to. Now I’m glad I did. Now I trust you with my life, my protection, my heart, my love. With everything.” Sighing, I ran my fingers through my hair. “What I’m trying to say is, I think we should at least give these people a chance. Maybe their bad reputation is deserved, maybe it’s not. Maybe they are pirates, but maybe they’re ready to change. I think we need to give them a chance and find out.”
He said nothing, but his deep gaze skimmed my face as if he were contemplating my appeals. Perhaps my arguments about learning to trust him and of trusting him with my heart and love were persuasive, especially considering the rift that still hung between us. At any rate, the next thing I knew, I was seated in the captain’s cabin with Ilgard, Norband, Captain Terslin, Silver Rose, and her soldmey, Golden Eyes.
Silver Rose opened the conversation by asking, “You wished to talk? We will talk. What is it we tell you?”
Leaning forward, I clasped my hands loosely on the tabletop. “Tell me how you knew about me, the Artan, and your prophecies. Tell me about those.”
Seated opposite me, she drew her feet up under her in the chair. Despite the informal pose, her back was straight and her chin high. She looked like an exotic pirate queen, holding court over her swashbuckling subjects.
“We, the Galandorf, sailed with the first Artan many years ago, yes? Our leader, First Captain Galad, he command divisions of her ships, her navy. We heard, we believed, the prophecies of the one who would succeed the first, stories promising a second that would follow her. They were passed down to us by our leader, whose name we took. In our hearts,” she placed an open palm on her chest, “we believe it. Always, we look for her.
“We hunt for her on sea, lake, and river. Our legends claim we will find her on water. We look for her and search countless ships. But, many years ago, they take us for pirates. This is before we were.” Her eyes glittered with wicked humor. “They want to fight? We fight, and we become what they make us.”
“Yet always, every ship we raid, we search for she who comes. We look for her, to pledge our ships and our swords.” This from Golden Eyes, who stood beside his wife and Captainess’s chair.
“And today, it is, she is found,” the woman supplied gently, as if rounding off the whole matter.
I flicked a glance at Ilgard, wondering if he were remembering what I’d observed earlier: It’s almost as if they were waiting for me.
I was right. They had been.
Sea Monster
Lulled by the rocking of the ship on waves, I slept, but only for a short time. The day’s events had been enough to push fatigue away, and once my eyes opened they refused to shut again. Sitting up in bed, curling my legs under me, I stared out the cabin’s round window at The Sea Serpent, captained by Silver Rose, which silently kept pace beside us. Even though I’d accepted everything she’d told me as true, in the end I had thought it best to remain aboard The Captain’s Lady. I didn’t say so to her, but it was mainly in an effort to placate Ilgard: I figured we didn’t need any further friction between us. Thankfully, the Galandorf First Captainess had accepted my decision as a fair one and had retired to her own vessel, along with her crew.
Picking up the white pillow from the bed’s head, I hugged it, resting my cheek against its cottony cover. The Galandorf were certainly a colorful people, distinct in dress, lifestyle, manners, and accent from any Aerisians I’d encountered so far. Many of the citizens of Laytrii’s palace and city favored bright colors, but none took them to the extent of the Galandorf, who streaked their hair as well as displayed vivid tattoos and multiple piercings. After the more staid society I’d been accustomed to, I couldn’t quit studying these sea peo
ple. There was definitely something piratical about their appearance.
Interestingly, all of the red embroidery on Silver Rose’s clothing was duplicated in blue on her soldmey’s. Golden Eyes also sported a wild splash of blue down the center of his long, flaxen hair, much like his wife’s streak of scarlet. There was no lip ring for him; however, he did have a tiny, intricate tattoo of a ship above his left eyebrow, along with that of the snake crossing his nose. Only one hoop dangled from each ear, but above that was a pair of golden studs carved to resemble eyes.
It hadn’t taken me long to figure out the connection between these people’s earrings and names. Silver Rose informed me it was a Galandorf tradition, reaching back to and even beyond the time of the first Artan.
“It reminds us, yes? That we are all one. All Galandorf, all called Galad. Silver Rose Galad”—she’d pointed at herself—“and Golden Eyes Galad”—at the man beside her.
Well, the earrings, or name rings, as she’d called them, certainly made remembering names easy, anyway.
Since Silver Rose owned and piloted her own vessel, The Sea Serpent, she carried the rank of First Captainess. In the Galandorf culture, those who captained someone else’s ship were ranked a Second Captain or Captainess. From what I gathered, a ship’s owner had no authority over his or her Second Captain or Captainess, even when traveling aboard their own vessel. If the owner didn’t pilot their own ship, all power in sailing matters was handed over to the one hired for the job. Under the First or Second Captain/Captainess was the First Sailor, and following the First Sailor came the Second in the chain of command. However, directly over the First Sailor and under the First or Second Captain/ness, was his or her soldmey.
All of the rankings and titles were confusing enough. Throw soldmeys into it, and the Galandorf really did become complicated. However, their idea of a soldmey was certainly one of the more unique facets of their culture.
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