“Thank you,” Jules said, her voice nearly breaking on the last word. She watched the crew talk and laugh, happy to have their suspicions confirmed, and happy to know the prophecy was being safeguarded and that they had a role in it.
Liv sighed. “They see only the good sides of it. Just as well they don’t think about what it means for you.”
“You’re right,” Jules said. “Bad enough I have to think of it. We’ve got a great crew, don’t we?”
“They’re not bad,” Ang said. “Even if none of the men are worthy.”
Ang joked so rarely that Jules had to look at him to be sure he was making fun of himself and the others.
“I had my money on Keli being the one,” Ang added, unable to suppress a smile.
“Keli?” Jules said. “Keli? Say that again and I’ll knife you!”
* * *
Maeve of Marandur had been one of the most sought-after midwives in the Imperial capitol, serving the highest as well as the lowest levels of society. Until the day one of her patients, the wife of a prince, suffered an unforeseen complication. It wasn’t the sort of thing anyone could’ve prevented given the state of the healing arts on the world of Dematr, but the prince (as princes can and sometimes do) blamed Maeve anyway.
Luckily for Maeve, some of her other high level and more grateful clients warned her that her arrest, show trial, and certain conviction were imminent, and then helped her escape Marandur and the Empire. As with other skilled men and women, the Empire’s loss had been Dor’s Castle’s gain.
And since Maeve was well-known among other healers for both her skill and her ability to keep her patients’ secrets, Keli had sought her out to work with Jules. Maeve had seen her once before, but Keli thought it wise to get another check before Jules headed south.
The Sun Queen slipped into the harbor at Dor’s Castle just after sunset, dropping anchor not too far from one of the piers. Keli was rowed to the pier to collect Maeve and return with her. The primary reason for the stealthy arrival was to avoid any Mages who might be watching for Jules, but there was another person Jules wanted to avoid. It would be very awkward if Ian were to show up now.
The stars and the moon told of midnight by the time Keli returned.
Maeve looked over Jules carefully, touching her gently and asking her questions which Jules did her best to answer truthfully. At one point Maeve brought out a sort of tube with flared ends, placing it against Jules’ midsection and listening intently. Keli watched from one corner of the cabin. When Maeve was done Liv and Ang were summoned into the cabin to hear the results. Jules sat on her bunk while the others stood around the cabin, the three lanterns lit for the examination providing an unusual amount of light.
“You’re disgustingly healthy,” Maeve said to Jules. “I can’t see any grounds for concern as long as you take care of yourself. That’s no guarantee, of course. How many children did your mother have?”
“Two,” Jules said, surprised that she could discuss it so calmly. “She died in childbirth with the second. The child also didn’t survive.”
Maeve sighed. “It happens too often. Do you know exactly what happened?”
“No. No one told me. I was five years old.”
“Did your mother ever mention any difficulties giving birth to you?”
Jules made a helpless gesture with both hands. “I don’t remember. I was five when she died.”
Maeve shook her head. “You don’t show any signs that your birth caused you any problems, so if there were complications they must have been minor. I’ve given you a list of what to expect, and what to see as warning signs. Pay attention to that list. If you experience the warning signs, get to me or another midwife as soon as you can.”
“All right,” Jules said. “Is there any reason I can’t continue to fulfill my responsibilities as captain of this ship?”
“That depends on what you consider your responsibilities,” the midwife said. “Giving orders on the quarterdeck? Fine. Running up the rigging to the maintop? Could get to be a bit risky.”
“What of the Mechanic weapons?” Keli asked, indicating the revolver that Jules had set on the table. “Can she safely use those?”
“Of that I have no idea,” Maeve confessed. “No one except Mechanics know how they work. Is there anything about them that would worry you?”
“They’ve got a kick when I shoot one,” Jules said. “A lot more than a crossbow. But that’s in the arm. And there’s an acrid odor from something burning.”
“Has the odor ever made you feel ill?”
“No.”
“When do you use that thing?” the midwife asked.
“It’s mainly for fighting Mages, though I’ve also used it against legionaries,” Jules said. “Pretty close-in fighting situations.”
“Ah.” Maeve nodded. “As a rule, I do recommend that women as far along as you are try to avoid getting into hand-to-hand combat, especially so when Mages are involved.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jules said. “It’s often not a choice for me, though.”
“Do you have any other questions or problems?” Maeve asked.
“Yeah,” Jules said. “When’s that glow supposed to start? I’ve been looking forward to being able to walk around in the dark without a lantern.”
“The glow’s only in your head, and those of your friends,” Maeve said, smiling.
“You sound like a Mage,” Jules grumbled.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’ll see you again in a few months.”
Maeve paused, looking down soberly at Jules. “I don’t know how far off you’re going, or how far you’ll have to sail to get back here, but I hope you understand that you can’t time these things to the day. When the baby decides to come, that’s it.”
“So I’ve heard,” Jules said. She studied Maeve. “Do you disapprove of what I’m doing?”
Maeve sighed. “It’s risky to be away during the last months. Things can happen to you and things can happen to the baby. But if you’re asking me whether I disapprove of your need to hide your condition from as much of the world as you can, and for your need to think foremost of that baby’s life and safety, I’m in no position to judge that or to judge you. I’m only glad that I don’t face the need for such choices. And I’ll be honest that my ability to spot a problem is limited to what I can see and feel and hear from the outside, which is why we sometimes lose mothers, and babies. There’d be a risk no matter what you do.”
She paused again, looking at Jules. “Because of your plans, there’s something you should know. You said you’ve been extremely tired at times, and had some pretty severe morning sickness. And at the moment you seem to be pretty large for a first-time mother. Those are signs that there may be twins.”
“Twins?” Jules sighed. “Twins. I have to give up not one child but two.”
“I’d say there’s a real chance of that.”
“If it was twins, couldn’t you hear two heartbeats with that horn?” Keli asked.
“Not this early,” Maeve said. “I have to go with my experience and my instincts on this, and those say twins are likely.”
Jules stared down at herself, her heart sinking. “Then we need to…” Blazes, it was hard to say. “We need to prepare for two children who need to be…hidden.”
“As much as I hate to say it,” Maeve said, “if you want the highest possible chance that both will live, they should be separated. Sent to different families, neither ever knowing of the other.”
“You’re right,” Jules said, surprised that she was able to say it.
“We’ll take care of it,” Keli said in a somber voice, looking at Ang and Liv, who nodded.
“I’ll help,” Maeve said. “Sorry I can’t be certain. There’re legends that the Mechanics once shared with commons devices that allowed a healer to see inside a person, to actually see what problems might be inside, or to see if you were carrying two instead of one.”
“I’ve heard su
ch stories,” Keli said. “But I think they’re just wild tales. How could anyone see inside someone?”
“I don’t know,” Maeve said. “If the Mechanics could do it at one time, and shared it with us, that hasn’t happened in living memory. And they may not have it anymore even if they once did. When I was still in Marandur I got called into their Guild Hall to assist a difficult birth.” She grimaced. “We lost the baby on that one, though we saved the mother. If the Mechanics had such devices, surely they would’ve known what to do before that night.”
Jules looked south, remembering different things she’d heard. “Mak thought over time the Mechanics would lose some of their devices. Mechanic devices can break, you know. Or just not work. And I’ve heard…never mind where…that sometimes the Mechanics will kill their own because of their Guild politics.”
“I wouldn’t put anything past Mechanics,” Keli said. “But if they end up killing the wrong people, ones that might know special things, that could hurt them, couldn’t it?”
“I certainly hope so.” Jules thought of Mechanic Hal and Mechanic Gayl. “It’d be ironic if the things the Guild did to maintain its power turned out to weaken it, wouldn’t it? Justice will slowly sap the strength of the Mechanics, while our people grow stronger. Mak told me that. I think he’s right.”
Maeve smiled at her. “Is this Mak a friend who’ll be with you the next few months?”
“Mak is always with me,” Jules said.
* * *
The midwife was taken ashore, the boat picking up some supplies that had been delivered to the pier by a grumpy, sleepy merchant. Before dawn lit the sky, the Sun Queen was clearing the harbor and turning to head west.
“The guy who delivered our supplies said he saw three Mages walking the streets of Dor’s,” Ang said.
“Three Mages?” Jules looked back toward Dor’s Castle. “Did he say how they were acting?”
“Like Mages. But walking around at an odd hour, like they were looking for someone.”
“I wonder who they were looking for,” Jules said sarcastically. “Why did they think I’d be in the town?”
Ang rubbed his chin, looking east and south over the water toward Dor’s. “The last couple of months you’ve been going into every settlement and town we stopped at. Showing your face and talking to people. The Mages might’ve taken note of that.”
Jules nodded. “This just happened to be the first port visit in months where I didn’t go ashore. The Mages were ready for me to visit Dor’s, but expected me to act like I have everywhere else recently.”
“Are we going to stop at Julesport?”
“Let’s get through the Strait of Gulls and then decide,” Jules said. She looked west. “The weather looks fine. Let’s hope it’s an easy voyage.”
The fine weather held as day followed day. Sailors, always alert to omens, were cheered by that.
Until the fine weather became a strange thing.
“That’s very odd.” As they approached the strait, Ang had been gazing ahead, and then gone up to the maintop to see farther. As he dropped back down to the deck, he gestured toward the west. “It’s clear as far as I can see.”
“The Strait of Gulls is clear?” Jules asked.
“No fog, no mist, no clouds. Clear weather,” Ang said.
“Anywhere else I’d be happy,” Jules said. “What could cause the strait to be clear?”
“I’ve never heard of any ship passing through the strait without encountering some fog or rain,” Ang said. “Of course, ships haven’t been using the strait for that long. But, still, this is odd.”
The perfect weather held as the Sun Queen entered the Strait of Gulls and turned south. Jules, walking about the ship in defiance of her aching back and sore feet, noticed the crew looking about with worried expressions, muttering among themselves. “The first time we went through the strait, you guys were unhappy when faced with fog and rain and all the other bad weather,” she commented to Marta as they both stood in the bow looking forward. “Now you’re unhappy because the weather is great.”
“These waters aren’t kind to sailors,” Marta said. “When they act all nice and pleasant, it makes a person wonder what’s going on. Just like when some guy who’s been nasty to you every day suddenly acts like he’s your best friend and admirer.”
“Yeah,” Jules said, because she also distrusted this perfect weather in the strait. “But maybe sailors are so used to being mistreated that we can’t handle it when the sea is nice to us.”
“If I knew what the sea was thinking, I’d be happier about this,” Marta said.
The fine weather held as the Sun Queen cleared the strait before noon, angling south-southwest toward Julesport.
The sun had passed its highest in the sky when the crew of the Sun Queen learned that they’d been right to be wary.
“Stars above,” Liv whispered. “Look at that.”
Sweeping in from the south and west, clouds were piling up with amazing swiftness. As Jules watched, they filled the sky before the Sun Queen from one side to the other. Big, dark clouds, rising high into a sky that was rapidly darkening from the brightest part of the day to what felt like an early night, but a night without stars or moon to illuminate it. Whatever this was, it was bad.
“All hands get aloft and take in sails!” she shouted. “Take in everything except the main, and reef the main! Gord! I want you doubling up on the helm. You and Marta tie yourselves to the helm. Anyone not in the rigging get everything loose below decks! Move it! We’ve got until that hits us, and it’s coming on fast!”
Jules waited, watching as her crew raced up into the rigging, bringing in the sails with frantic haste.
“It looks like a fist as big as the world taking a swing at us,” Liv said, out of breath from rushing about. “Here, you fool,” she told Jules. “I know you won’t do the common-sense thing and go below yourself, so you need to be tied down as well.” Instead of wrapping the line about her midsection as was usually done, Liv raised it to sit just above Jules’ breasts and under her arms. “That should be a lot more comfortable than having it tied about that belly of yours.” She tied the line securely before wrapping the other end about one of the posts for the helm and knotting it off.
Ang paused in tying himself off to stare ahead. “Should we meet it bow on or stern first?” he asked Jules.
“Bow on, I think. It’s stronger than the stern if hit dead on hard.”
The dark mass of cloud swept overhead, plunging the ship into night. But the wind at sea level had dropped to almost nothing, the seas eerily calm about the Sun Queen. “Get on deck!” Jules shouted to those sailors still in the rigging. “Get below or tie yourselves in place! Lookout! You, too! Get down here!”
She stared past the bow, past the weird stillness of the air and gentleness of the sea, seeing a maelstrom of water and wind racing at the Sun Queen and her crew. “BRACE FOR IT!” Jules shouted as loudly as she could.
The storm hit the bow with a shock that rattled the Sun Queen, Gord and Marta on the helm holding on with grim expressions. The storm swept across the ship, a gale of wind and water that knocked Jules from her feet. She staggered up again against the force of the tempest, nearly blinded by the darkness and the wind blown spray and rain that pummeled her. Lighting flared on all sides, tracing lines of fire across the dark, the boom of thunder almost lost amidst the other noise of the storm.
Taken aback by the wind hitting from off the bow, the ship shuddered, the reefed mainsail pressed back against the mast. Her forward motion halted, the Sun Queen began staggering backwards, gathering sternway.
Ang pulled himself next to her, shouting near her ear, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the tumult of the storm. “We can’t face this! We’ve got to turn about!”
Jules reeled as another gust tore at her, trying to sense the feel of the ship through the chaos. Ang was right. The ship was sliding backwards, fighting the efforts of the helm to maintain her on a steady cours
e. Jules could barely make out Gord and Marta straining to keep the helm from flying loose. Forcing herself step by step against the storm, Jules got close to the helm. “Come about! Stern on to the seas and the winds!”
Gord nodded, his face twisted with effort. Together, he and Marta fought to control the wheel as it threatened to spin uncontrollably. Ang staggered up to the helm and joined his efforts to theirs as the Sun Queen swung wildly to starboard.
For a terrifying moment as she came about, the seas were on the ship’s beam, coming straight at her side, threatening to shove the Sun Queen far over and bury her masts in the water. But then the ship swung past the midpoint of her turn, the wind suddenly helping to push her about, the reefed mainsail billowing out taut away from the mast, Gord, Marta, and Ang fighting to stop the swing before the Sun Queen spun about too far.
Sun Queen yawed wildly as she fought the helm, the ferocious wind now shrieking from aft and the seas pummeling the stern. Normally, following seas made for smooth sailing, but not when those seas were this high and moving this fast. Jules had to grab onto the railing, holding tightly as the deck shifted under her feet in an erratic dance.
The rain cleared a little for a moment, giving her a look at the mainmast as lighting flared overhead, the reefed mainsail stretched tight with strain. If the sail ripped, they’d be at the mercy of the sea. But if the pressure on it and the mast were too great and the sail held, they might lose the mast. That would also doom them. And sending sailors aloft in this weather would mean a high risk of losing some of them over the side.
Spray broke over the stern, the impact of the wave driving the Sun Queen down into the trough before it, the ship shuddering again as her bow dug in and water foamed over the deck.
Jules worked her way hand over hand on the railing until she was close to the helm again, letting go and reeling step by step like a drunkard barely able to walk as the storm and the ship’s motion tested her sea legs. “Can we keep on this course?” she shouted at Ang, her voice thin and small over the tumult of the storm.
His face and body rigid with the strain of helping to hold the helm, Ang blinked against the rain as he stared ahead. “We weren’t far south of Cape Astra when this hit! If we hold this course we’ll be run onto the land to the north!”
Fate of the Free Lands Page 20
