Vanguard

by Ann Aguirre

  “My favorite! How did you know? I’ll probably eat these in one night.”

  “Enjoy,” he said.

  As I wouldn’t.

  More than twenty villagers gathered to wave when the small craft set sail. Such sudden success should have filled him with brightness, but when he listened to his heart, he could not hear the song he’d promised. I am here shifted to I am one. He ignored the pain and tolerated the journey. Boats no longer made him sick; he just didn’t like them.

  And Szarok could share that truth with his people, enough to make them believe in the pilgrimage to Antecost, a place so fresh and pure that it came without memories, without ruins. The green expanse of trees and the soft singing of rivers … If his people learned to swim, they could enjoy fish as he did. Silently, he relinquished his dream of home tied to Rosemere.

  We will go nowhere that we are not welcome.

  The morning that the Evergreen Isle came into sight, he asked one quiet favor of the captain. “Sail past Rosemere to the south. I will carry myself to the mainland.”

  When he’d led the warriors to meet the Huntress, they all battled terror on the rafts. There would be a few left from that first landing, and he preferred not to delay in town. But the captain surprised him by shaking her head.

  “I can sail downriver easy enough, but I won’t leave you. Littleberry would have my hide. I’ll drop anchor in the middle and have one of my men row you ashore on the other side.”

  True to her word, they sailed past the isle and onward, closer to Appleton. He must travel on land for a time, but she made it possible for him to get there faster by sending her men to deliver him safely to the mainland. They took him all the way to the shallows, so he bowed low when he climbed out. Sometimes kindness did beget kindness.

  “Please thank the captain for me.”

  “See you in the spring,” the sailor called.

  He cocked his head. “Will you?”

  “Aye. The captain’s already volunteered to be among the ten ships.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  But that was too lean a word for the choking relief that lifted some of this burden from his shoulders. He had never told anyone, not even his dear healer, how he struggled with the honor of being chosen. How he’d felt at hearing, You carry all our hope and promise with you.

  “Good day,” the other man shouted, already rowing away.

  Cold water splashed over his feet as he stumbled ashore. The familiar mainland smells washed over him. Soon he would reach Appleton, a human settlement taken by the People before they realized they couldn’t keep it … for a host of reasons.

  Running alone seemed strange and alien. At first he focused on the silence, and then the world whispered to him as it had before: prey, enemies, traces of scent and faint echoes in the distance. I lost this. But I found her.

  As if to outrun that thought, he added speed, pausing only to drink or hunt. Much quicker than he could’ve predicted, the ruins of Appleton loomed before him. There had been no human scent for days; they avoided his territory as if they would still be slain and eaten. He did spot a couple of Gulgur, but they were engaged in a mission no less critical than his own, so they only waved and passed by with their salvage wagon. Growls of greeting met him in the broken streets. Questions peppered him. “Are you well?” “Did you find us a place?” Everyone recognized him, so the tribe came in droves, so familiar and dear that his heart ached. And then it hurt more when a soft voice snarled, “Welcome home.”

  With a heavy heart, Szarok faced her, the mate his people had chosen for the vanguard.

  The Day He Stopped Waiting

  Flames hissed at the buckets of water emptied on them. Smoke rose and curled up into the darkness. But the noise from the burning ship didn’t drown the cries of pain. The other vessel rammed us so fast. Morrow tried to fight his way toward lower deck access—Millie needed someone to protect her—but there were too many bodies in the way. I’ll have to cut a path. So be it. The rifle he’d retrieved from the captain’s cabin wouldn’t do him much good in this scrum, so he drew his blade. Others had the same idea, forming a rough line of defense.

  The raiders couldn’t truly intend to sink the Catalina. It would be better if they could take it—and the cargo—intact. Captain Advika had skimmed up into the riggings and taken position with a rifle. As her weapon cracked, bodies fell. Down at the base of the mast, Sung Ji fought with twin knives, stabbing with a proficiency that reminded Morrow of the old days. He battled his way to them, a kick here, a slash there.

  As Morrow reached the captain and first mate, a trio of invaders lined up in front of him. Tch, cowards. They must be quaking in their boots. Morrow swept his blade before him horizontally, scattering the men. He kicked the nearest over the railing and into the frigid waters below. The closer of the two remaining enemies slashed at him with a boot knife, but he parried and, with a twist, disarmed his opponent. Been a while since I had a challenge.

  The other rushed him, cutlass upraised, while the first dove after his knife. He elbowed the would-be swordsman in the throat, and while he staggered, Morrow skewered him through the stomach. When he yanked his weapon free, blood slicked the blade. Red glazed the dying enemy from the flames nearby as Captain Advika shot him in the head. Morrow lifted his chin in thanks at the captain perched above, then he raced to aid Sung Ji, as Morrow’s final opponent lunged at the first mate, knife in hand.

  “Watch out,” he called.

  The first mate whirled and blocked a strike and kicked out, nearly breaking the man’s kneecap. But more invaders, at least ten, pressed forward. Morrow didn’t like the odds, until Advika dropped two in quick succession. Bodies and weapons hit the deck.

  “Get those fires out,” she shouted.

  All around, the sailors who weren’t defending hurried with buckets in a makeshift fire brigade. Morrow went after the knife-wielder currently advancing on Sung Ji. Morrow beckoned with his free hand, and the enemy raced toward him. In a lightning strike, he sliced the man’s weapon arm, and his fingers lost strength with wrist tendons severed. His blade slipped from his hands and clattered away. Smiling, Morrow advanced and executed him in a neat slit of the throat.

  Seven left.

  Then a boom sounded nearby, and Morrow turned to spy Millie silhouetted in swirling smoke, backlit by the titian glow of fading flames. Shotgun braced firmly against her shoulder, she fired again and again, dropping three of the seven almost faster than he could track it. She took the bruising recoil without a flinch, and she fell back as they wheeled on her. Apparently without fear, Millie lofted the weapon for another go. Terrified for her, Morrow stabbed one of them in the back, Advika took out another, and Sung Ji did for a third.

  Just one, last man standing.

  No time to breathe. Or to scold her. The deck trembled beneath the hulking beast approaching, likely the raider captain. He stood nearly seven feet tall, bald as an egg, and scarred so that Morrow couldn’t parse his features, except half his nose was missing. The giant clutched a boarding ax, big enough to hack through the mast. Morrow dodged the first lumbering swing, but the lummox had a free hand, and he clocked Morrow with an enormous fist. Ears ringing, he reeled back; Sung Ji caught him, and as the enemy lowered his head for a final charge, his body jerked. Advika shot him in the chest, and Millie took him through the back. The raider captain roared at the onslaught, but he still didn’t go down. Sung Ji flung both knives and they each struck, shoulder and thigh. Millie finished him with another blast, though she didn’t lower her weapon until he went down.

  Finally.

  “Clear the bodies,” Captain Advika ordered.

  Ignoring Morrow, Millie set to with Sung Ji, carrying corpses like it was her life’s work. Though the ship was damaged and smoldering, it seemed to be intact. The sailors whooped as they boarded the enemy craft and fastened it to the Catalina. It would take a little longer to reach Baybridge, but they’d limp in as heroes.

  Just like the ol
d days.

  “Any casualties?” Millie asked, once the deck was clear. A few men answered in the affirmative, and she gestured toward the lower deck. “I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to help as much as Dr. Tegan, but I’ll do my best.”

  Morrow clenched his teeth as she led the injured sailors away. Once, she would’ve asked if he was all right, she would’ve gazed up at him like— Well, everything about her lately aggravated him plenty. Morrow swiped the sweat from his brow and succeeded in smearing the soot so that it came off on his palms.

  With a sigh, he turned to Sung Ji. “What can I do?”

  “You already did plenty on defense. Major repairs will keep until we dry-dock the Catalina for the winter.”

  Somehow Morrow stayed on deck and resisted the urge to check on Millie when every instinct urged him to reprimand her. Where the devil did she find a shotgun, let alone know how to use it? The first question answered itself—probably the captain’s quarters, same as me. As for the latter, he had no clue. If she had any common sense, she would’ve stayed below, where it was safe. Angrily, he kicked at a charred crate and it collapsed into splinters. With a guilty glance around, he set to cleaning up the mess he’d made.

  “Good of you to pitch in, storyteller.” A sailor smiled at him in passing.

  “It’s my pleasure,” he mumbled.

  As he cleared the rubbish, Advika paused beside him. “You’ve a cool head in a crisis, James Morrow. You’re a welcome addition to my crew.”

  “I can’t guarantee how long I’ll stay.”

  “You miss her,” she said in a sorrowful tone.

  He did. Of course he did, but just as with the blacksmith’s wife, Clara, time had muted the feeling. With every fiber of his being, he still hoped Tegan was alive, but … the reunion wouldn’t happen as he’d once so desired. Now he just wanted to see Tegan, laugh with her, and find out what the hell happened after she went over the railing. In time, he might come to accept that she was truly gone, along with Szarok, not just missing.

  But today is not that day.

  “She’s my friend,” he answered finally.

  The captain studied him briefly, then she laughed. “We’re both in a spot, aren’t we?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve captured an enemy vessel intact. The right thing to do is offer it to Sung Ji since he’s my first mate. That way, he can run his own ship and crew.”

  “But if you do, he might leave you.” Morrow grasped her dilemma at once.

  “It’s not a tough choice. If he wants his own ship, I should make it possible. But I won’t lie; it hurts something fierce to picture him moving on.”

  “You haven’t had a chance to mention it yet?”

  “I’m putting off the inevitable. Besides, there’s work to be done.” With that she went to inspect the stern, where most of the fire damage was centered.

  For his part, Morrow worked alongside the crew until they reached Baybridge. The lights of town blazed against the dark like inviting little beacons, each house a flicker of hope. Though the docks were quiet at this hour, Advika’s people made short work of leaping to the pier and roping the ship in. The enemy craft took some more doing, but eventually they had it under control, too. Exhausted, Morrow stumbled down the gangplank after the captain.

  “Where does the crew bunk?” he called.

  “Most have family here or a partner. You and Millie are welcome to come with Sung Ji and me to my sister’s place. This way.”

  In the dark, Morrow couldn’t discern many details about the town, except that it was sprawling. It was impossible not to notice the small figures hurrying in a group toward a brightly lit building. He followed them with his gaze until Sung Ji bumped him.

  “The Gulgur have made it this far north?” Morrow asked, astonished.

  The other man grinned. “They came with Devi last summer. Odd dialect, but no worse than what you hear over Peckinpaugh way. It’s funny: they brought all manner of salvage, and they’re obsessed with figuring out how things work. One of them got the old mill running.… Well, you probably don’t care about that.”

  “No, local stories always interest me.”

  “I’ll tell you more over a hot drink. Devi and Evette will be looking for us. For weeks now, actually.” Sung Ji sighed a little and arched his back. “It’ll be nice to sleep in a bed that doesn’t roll around for a while.”

  “But you love the sea?”

  “Definitely. Almost as much as our dear captain.” Whistling cheerfully, he hurried to catch up with her.

  As Morrow moved to do the same, Millie fell into step beside him. Her face was dirty, her eyes hollowed out with overwork. Yet there was also a spring in her step. He choked down a host of disagreeable words, entirely out of keeping with his character.

  “You fought well,” she said. “But I guess I should expect that, having read your stories.”

  Somehow it didn’t feel like a compliment. He tried to breathe through the rising irritation. “So did you. Where did you learn to shoot?”

  “My dad taught me. We didn’t battle much in Otterburn, but before the tithes, we did encounter the occasional Mutie raid.” She fixed her gaze on Sung Ji and Advika, some distance ahead, then she quickened her pace.

  Deliberately, he walked faster, too. Since she was short, it would be near impossible for her to outpace him without running. “Did I do something wrong?”

  No reason to let resentment simmer.

  “Not at all,” she said. “I just had a little case of hero worship before—that’s all. I’m over that. But I guess maybe you miss it.”

  “What?”

  “Me mooning over you while you stare into the distance, thinking of somebody else.”

  Well, that’s clear enough. But it gave him a little pang to realize she no longer saw him as someone special. “I’m sorry.”

  Morrow didn’t even know what he was apologizing for, really, but he had the unmistakable sense that he’d hurt her. In that case, the right thing was always to own up to it. She slowed a bit then, following the curve of the rocky road up the hill. Captain Advika glanced back to make sure they were still within her line of sight, but she didn’t speak. Morrow watched as she curled her arm through Sung Ji’s and he touched his head to hers, briefly.

  “Don’t.”

  “What?”

  But she didn’t answer. Millie broke into a bounding run and caught up to the other two and she didn’t look back. He reached the warm house as Captain Advika opened the door. From inside came the excited chatter of women greeting one another after a long separation. He waited in the doorway for an invitation, not wanting to be rude. Devi resembled her sister quite a bit, though she looked somewhat younger, and she wore her hair longer. Evette was smaller than Millie and delightfully round, with hazel eyes and freckled skin.

  “We’ve been so worried!” Devi hugged Advika again. “But it looks like you ran into trouble. You’re all filthy and you reek of smoke.”

  “We’ll tell you all about it, as long as you feed us.”

  “James, come in and close the door. You’re letting the warm air out.”

  He flushed as the captain treated him like a wayward boy. Chastened, he followed instructions and settled at the long table that dominated the comfortable room. Cushions and a fine woven carpet went a long way to making this place seem like home. He admired the various souvenirs that lined the walls while Devi and Evette set food on the table.

  Over a hearty meal of stew and bread, Advika performed the introductions and told their story between bites. Devi interjected now and then, mostly out of worry, Morrow thought, but then Evette would touch her on the arm to settle her down. Their bond seemed deep and true, and he wondered if they’d met as part of the marrying-ferry the captain mentioned before. For a storyteller, he didn’t say much that night. Yet it was also a relief not to sing for his supper.

  “When are you going to stop this nonsense?” Devi said finally.

  Advika
shrugged. “I have no idea. But it won’t be this year. Baybridge needs me to take its goods south, or have you forgotten?”

  Her sister sighed, as if this were an old argument. “I know. But you all must be exhausted. I’m sorry to keep you talking so late.”

  “I didn’t mind,” Millie said. “And everything was delicious.”

  “Reckon you’re tired of pottage by now,” Sung Ji put in.

  “A bit,” she admitted with an adorable smile.

  Adorable. When did I start thinking that? Morrow stared until Millie shot him an awful look, her dimples disappearing into a scowl. He got to his feet and stretched, rubbing the bruise the raider captain’s fist had left on his jaw. That, she noticed, and her aspect softened.

  “You’re hurt?”

  “Nothing serious.”

  While the others cleared the table, she scolded him and forced him to sit back down so she could put some ointment on the mark. “You carry your own medical supplies now?”

  “Not because I want to be a doctor,” she snapped. “So don’t think I’m trying to replace anybody. Just … in case. It’s smart to be prepared.”

  “Nobody’s arguing.”

  Her frown deepened. Millie wasn’t gentle as she smeared the salve onto his jaw, and oh Lord above, for some reason, he just wanted to wrap his arms around her and tickle her. But that was no way to treat a cantankerous woman.

  It took another hour to get everyone spot washed, the best they could do at this hour. Then came the question of where everyone would sleep. They whispered about it for a while, so Morrow finally said, “A pallet on the floor is fine by me. I can just roll beneath the table, if that’s fine with everybody else.”

  “That’s not the issue,” said Devi. “We only have one spare room.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m sure Millie won’t mind the floor, either. You can trust me not to pester her in the night.”

  At that, Millie snorted sharply. “That’s for damn sure.”

  Everyone traded looks, but it was settled, and Devi passed out pillows and blankets before the two couples retired for the night. By this point, Morrow’s bones were aching, so a comfortable nest near the fire seemed like heaven. He didn’t undress, though, just rolled into his covers like a tunneling mouse.