The Voyages of Trueblood Cay

by Suanne Laqueur

  The man grunted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “How’d you boys lure her in?”

  “We didn’t. She wandered into town on her own. Like she was lost.”

  “Finders keepers,” another sang.

  You’re far from home, little sister, Fen thought. This is no place for you.

  Her wings shuddered as her three bound hooves came nearer the ground.

  Look only at me. That’s it. I’m going to put my hands on you. Don’t be afraid.

  She tossed her head as his hand slid along her neck and the crowd gasped.

  “Don’t yank on her,” Fen said to the men on the rear leg ropes. “Ease up. You’re terrifying her. Break a mare’s spirit and she’ll fetch half the price she should.”

  The word price made the mare buck and rear. She was terrified but she wasn’t stupid.

  It’s all right. Fen had a firm hand in her mane. I won’t let them take you. Come down now. Pretend I’m taming you. Good.

  Her rear hooves touched down and stayed there. The front ones refused to stand still. She wasn’t rearing, but she was ready to kick.

  That’s it. As if giving gelango, Fen carefully rested his forehead against the mare’s long nose. Breathe with me now. I’m here and I won’t let them hurt you.

  A murmur went through the crowd.

  “You have to woo her, lads,” Fen said. “Sweet words and a gentle touch. Just like you’d seduce a woman.”

  “Well, it was Kenji’s idea.” One of the louts flipped a thumb at his friend. “And he beds men.”

  “Then no wonder your technique with fillies is terrible,” Fen said.

  Louder laughter now and Fen ran a firm but gentle hand between the pegaso’s ears.

  Don’t struggle. Stay with me now.

  She huffed a breath out her nostrils and her eyes circled the sky. What is wrong with these assholes?

  Fen had to fold his mouth around his own guffaw and cough into an elbow to swallow it down.

  The mare’s ears twisted. Are you all right, mysire?

  I’m fine. Play along now. “Give her a little slack,” he said to the fellows holding the ropes. “Not too much. Just let her take a few steps.”

  He walked backward and the mare followed, tugging a little at her bonds.

  “Holy fuck, lad, she’s eating out of your hand,” Kenji said. “Let go her legs.”

  “No, don’t,” Fen called, putting fear in his voice. “She’s still too wild.”

  “Horseshit. Look at her. She adores you.”

  “Too soon,” the kheiron said, covertly assessing the men’s grip on the ropes. “She could bolt. Or knock my teeth out. Keep some slack but keep holding tight, lads.”

  Stay close to me, he thought to the mare.

  Humans are easily entertained, aren’t they?

  They are. Can you shake a leg free?

  Almost, she said. I need more distraction.

  Put your head over my shoulder. Close your eyes. Look tame.

  He put his arms around the mare’s neck and stroked her mane. A spattering of applause went through the crowd.

  “Incredible,” Kenji said. “Lads, she’s going to make us a fortune.”

  I’ve got a leg free, mysire, the mare thought.

  All right. On three you fly. Straight up and don’t stop. Don’t look back. One. Two. Three.

  “Fuck, she bit me,” he yelled, and threw himself aside. The pegaso’s wings opened with a crack as she barreled into the throng. Five steps and she was in the air. The unfortunate fellow on her leg rope flew with her a few feet, then let go and toppled into the crowd of people.

  “Son of a bitch,” Kenji yelled.

  “Women,” Fen said. “Who can understand them?”

  “You fucking moron.”

  Now Fen was at the center of an angry mob, all intent on killing him.

  Easily entertained, easily disappointed, he thought, throwing punches and elbows. Kicking ribs and groins until he managed to get back on his feet. A sound of tearing linen as his wings burst through the back of his shirt, sending more people flying. Screams of wonder and frustration as he took to the skies. The pegaso was far ahead of him, getting out of Aybar without a backward look.

  “You’re welcome, crazy filly,” he called after. “Good Gods, fly down to Nyland if you want to see humans in their natural habitat.”

  He chuckled the whole flight back to Aybar. A little way before the wharves, he made out the unmistakable tall form of Trueblood in his blue coat, walking with Raj. Fen touched down and caught up to them.

  “What did they want?” Raj said, looking Fen up and down. “The shirt off your back?”

  “It’s a kheiron’s occupational hazard.” Fen looked from one to the other, noting the empty hands. “Did you find the…thing? The stuff?”

  “No,” Trueblood said. “Building is in ruins and the cache is long gone.”

  “Shit, you’re kidding.”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  Trueblood looked like he’d eaten an entire bag of preserved lemon peel. Meanwhile, Raj looked like a dog who’d stolen the cook’s soup bones. “And how was your morning?” he asked with a broad grin.

  “It was eventful.”

  “No shit. We saw you pursuing a frisky pegaso across the rooftops.” His elbow pressed Fen’s side. “Someone likes redheads.”

  “You saw her? Holy shit, you wouldn’t believe what happened.”

  “Try us.”

  Fen told a condensed, modest version of the story. “Poor thing, she was scared out of her eyeballs.”

  “Scared but grateful,” Raj said. “It’s a good combination.”

  “I guess,” Fen said.

  “Did she recognize you?”

  “Me? Why would she?”

  “Don’t all horsefolk know the son of il-Kheir on sight?”

  Fen laughed. “No.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You didn’t get her name?” Raj said. “Have I taught you nothing?”

  “Why would I want her name?”

  “Héjo.” The pilot rapped knuckles on Fen’s head. “You kheiron prince? She dam in distress? Together you make future horsefolk?”

  “Raj, shut up,” Trueblood said.

  “Yeah, shut up.” Fen turned to the mariner. “And what’s up your ass?”

  “Nothing. Let’s get out of here. Obviously Aybar doesn’t like…”

  Trueblood trailed off, looking toward the waterfront. Fen followed the stare. Seven and Eleven were running up the street toward them. Sprinting like their hair was on fire.

  “This is not good,” Raj said.

  Now Fen could see the cook was white as death. His brother was wild-eyed and frantic as a captive pegaso.

  Trueblood held up a palm, both to greet and stop them cold. His voice boomed deep and terrible as he demanded, “Where’s your brother?”

  “We were watching the dancers,” Eleven said. His voice had the shrill edge of one who knows he’s fucked up badly. “He was right next to me.”

  “Until he wasn’t,” Seven said.

  “Kep, I swear, I turned my head a minute.”

  “That’s all it takes,” Fen said under his breath.

  “Kep,” Eleven said. “I’m sorry.”

  Trueblood held up a finger and his voice was calm and emotionless. “Be sorry later. Right now we go to where you last saw him and fan out from there. Seven, go back onboard. Send Dhar out. Fen, get your bow. And a shirt.”

  The cook swallowed hard. “Kep, shouldn’t I go with?”

  “I need you with Lejo and Calvo.” Trueblood gave a quick smile. “I can’t have all my best men ashore.”

  Fen was a mix of dread and bloodlust as t
hey headed back toward the center of the city. He itched for a fight even as he worried about Sixten. The lost bounty of Haize sulked in his gut. Taking out an unsavory citizen or two would be a decent consolation prize.

  “Don’t get punchy on me,” Trueblood said, as if he’d heard Fen’s thoughts.

  “I’m not punchy.”

  “You are. Don’t bring your emotions into the situation. We lost something. We will find it.”

  They came to the square where Eleven said the dancers had been. In a loose phalanx, they started circling, moving outward street by street.

  “Think like your brother, Lev,” Trueblood said. “You know him best. Be fifteen again. You’re in a forbidden place. Watching girls dance.”

  “Half-naked girls,” Eleven mumbled.

  “Your mother’s going to kill you,” Dhar said.

  Trueblood’s voice raised. “Knock it off.”

  “Was it a troupe?” Fen asked. “Was someone passing a hat for money? Who was working the crowd?”

  Eleven rubbed the back of his neck and kicked at the ground. “It was hard to see anything but the girls.” At the rolling eyes, he threw up his hands. “For fuck’s sake, I’m a sailor,” he cried. “After two months of being at hand with yourself, naked females are distracting.”

  “I’m a sailor two months away from my wife,” Dhar said. “My hand is my mistress but I can still sew a straight seam.”

  The voices grew thin in Fen’s ears. He was thinking about the dancers and remembering what he knew about Aybar. Girls weren’t a commodity here. Boys were.

  Sixten was a handsome lad. He wasn’t a fool, but he was a young, sex-starved and distracted sailor who was tired of his hand. In other words, a sucker.

  Girls weren’t goods in Aybar. They were sucker bait.

  Aybar didn’t want Sixten’s khesos. It wanted Sixten.

  “Fen,” Trueblood said. “What are you thinking. Tell me.”

  “I think he’s in trouble. But…” Fen drew a deep breath. “I might be looking through the punchy prism of my own experience and projecting the trouble.”

  “I won’t dismiss the gut reaction,” Trueblood said. “Given where we are.”

  “Sixten’s also a little old for the trade. Aybar likes the young ones. If he’s been picked up by a pimp or a slaver, it’s not as a long-term investment.”

  “Gods, kheiron.” Eleven dragged hands through his hair until the whites of his eyes bulged. “I respect your knowledge of this place, but please, stop talking.”

  “Steady, lad,” Dhar said.

  “My mother’s going to kill me.”

  “Old Rafil always said to look for the simplest solution first,” Trueblood said. “In this case, that’s Sixten being led by the cock back to one of the brothels.”

  Raj nodded. “And where are brothels always built?”

  “Near the wharves. For convenience.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Heading back to the waterfront, Dhar kept a hearty arm around Eleven. “He’s probably right under our nose. He can look out the window of the establishment and see the Kaleuche’s mast.”

  “He knows he’s in the shit,” Raj said. “No doubt he’s putting off the inevitable.”

  “Not Sixten,” Eleven said. “He always went out to meet a hiding. When he was in the shit, he wanted it over with. If Mami was really pissed, she’d make him wait until Da got home. Sixten would die a thousand deaths. The buildup was worse than the beating.” His voice frayed around the edges. “He wouldn’t run away. I know him.”

  “So he decided a romp in the sheets was worth a beating,” Raj said. “Since he already has it coming, why not two romps? You’re only young once.”

  Gods, I hope you’re right, Raj, Fen thought. Please, let it be the simplest solution. Trueblood lost the cache of Nye. I got waylaid by a pegaso and lost a chance to kill Haize. So be it. Let it all be the price for Sixten.

  This for that.

  Between the fervent entreaty was a nauseating certainty the lad was either chained up in the hold of a slave ship or marching into the desert. It curdled in his stomach as Raj, the ambassador, went door to door among the houses of love, applying his fearless charm and bottomless pockets to the downstairs madams and their patrons.

  “He’ll find him,” Trueblood said. “The Compass never worries.”

  “For sure,” Dhar said. “I don’t panic until Raj panics.”

  Fen was eating his panic. When Raj came out of a doorway, his arm around Sixten, all the blood rushed out of the kheiron’s head.

  “Lad, I am going to kill you,” Trueblood said quietly.

  “I think I just lost ten years off my life,” Dhar said.

  “Same here.” Fen’s laugh sounded like the bray of a donkey as he sank onto a crumbling stone wall, shaking all over. “Good thing my hair’s already white,” he said, watching Eleven go running toward his brother.

  “…The Kepten’s going to beat your ass to a pulp and I’m going to watch,” Eleven yelled. “Then I’ll watch while Seven thrashes your hide. Then I’m sending a message bird to Mami so she knows. The next time we’re home, she’s going to beat your ass again and I’ll watch that, too.”

  “This is a rather perverted side of you, Lev,” Sixten said, earning a slap upside the head.

  Trueblood lengthened his stride, putting the fraternal justice system behind him. Unfortunately, Fen had long legs.

  “You all right?” he said.

  “Splendid. Please stop talking.”

  “…Because you’re a fucking moron,” Eleven cried, followed by another slapping sound.

  A smack back now. “How about we pretend I already feel like shit and don’t need assistance, huh?”

  “Settle down, lads,” Raj said. The tone was barely past conversational yet both brothers went quiet. They walked the rest of the way in silence.

  “Sixten, ready the sails,” Trueblood said as they went up the gangway. “When we’re tacked, go to your cabin and stay there.”

  “Fine.”

  Trueblood stopped dead and looked back over his shoulder. “Excuse me?”

  Sixten blanched. “I mean, aye. Kep. Kepten.” He flinched as Eleven backhanded his upper arm.

  Trueblood pointed a long finger at the maristo. “Don’t. Hit him. Again.”

  “Sorry, Kep,” Eleven said, elbowing his brother and not looking sorry.

  Trueblood took a step and let the finger press Eleven’s chest. “You were the accompanying guardian today. You let him out of your sight. You have shit to eat here, and I have both a strap to lay over your hide and message birds of my own I can send to your mother. Do you understand? Answer your commander.”

  Now he had Eleven’s full attention. “Aye, Kep.”

  Trueblood banged open the aftercastle doors, shrugged out of his blue coat and threw it across the table in his study. He sank into the large chair at his desk and dropped his aching head in his hands. He imagined in a week, if he was lucky, his heart would stop pounding.

  “Well, that was unpleasant,” Raj said in a shaky voice. “Is it too early to get drunk?”

  “Let’s just weigh anchor and get the fuck out of here,” Trueblood said, drawing in a massive, fortifying breath before he lifted his head.

  Lejo’s eyes met his first. The boatswain’s arms were crossed so tight, it looked like he was trying squeeze himself out of existence. “You’ll deal with Sixten tonight?”

  “I’ll deal with him when I’m not so angry,” Trueblood said. “Otherwise I’ll be beating him with my emotions, which isn’t a good thing.”

  Lejo nodded. “I forget how young he really is.”

  “We all do,” Trueblood said. “Even me. He’s exceptional. He’s mature beyond his years, he’s intelligent and talented. All of which makes it easy to forget he’s fifteen and technically
still a minoro.”

  “Until he does something stupid.”

  “I don’t punish mistakes, I punish disobedience and disrespect. This was both. If he were a majoro, then possibly I’d give him the mother of all dressing-downs and a month of swabbing the decks.”

  “Is that what you have in store for Eleven?” Raj said.

  “Not after his shitty attitude just now.” Trueblood sighed. “Fuck me, tonight is going to suck.”

  “I’ll handle Sixten,” Lejo said. “I’m the damn boatswain.”

  “And I’m the kepten,” Trueblood said. “Thank you, Lé, but it’s my sucky job. I do it. And I’ll do it when I’ve calmed down. Just keep Sixten away from his brothers. If either of them rough him up, I want to know about it.”

  “You will.”

  “Raj, please weigh the fucking anchor and get us out of here.”

  “Where to?”

  The blood roared behind Trueblood’s eyeballs as he counted five. “Out of port and away from the coastline will be sufficient. Thank you. Everyone.”

  He rubbed his face hard, then dug fingers between his plaits and pulled until the bite in his scalp cleared his head. When he looked up, Fen was there. He’d been in the room the whole time, but silent.

  Trueblood counted five again. “When I said thank you everyone, did you not catch the subtext of get out?”

  “No,” Fen said. “I’m kind of stupid that way.”

  “You don’t want to be standing between me and my bad mood.”

  Fen stepped a few feet to the side.

  Trueblood smiled weakly. “Gods, I may go hide in the galley and peel potatoes to calm down.”

  “You peel potatoes to calm down?”

  “Well, I’d rub one out but I’m not feeling particularly sexy right now so potatoes are next best, may I help you?”

  Fen’s brow lifted while his mouth twitched sideways.

  “Sorry,” Trueblood said. “That was crass.”

  “No, it was funny. Good one.”

  “Yeah. Well. Get your laughs now because later you’ll be seeing your first public flogging onboard.”

  “You don’t typically thrash crew in front of everyone.”

  “Only for certain offenses.”

  “Are those offenses written down somewhere?”