“Rightly pu—punished?” Gryle asked.
“Aye,” Balen said, “Rumor was the poor bastard made comment on the Lady’s … disposition, you might say. Nothin’ others hadn’t already said about her, I’m sure, but see, the thing was, he said it to the captain.” Balen sighed regretfully, “Victor was a good enough sort, but the sea takes her due. Always has and always will.”
“Wait a moment,” Adina said, “are you saying that this captain killed a man, killed him, just because he said something bad about his ship?”
Balen nodded slowly, “Well, it don’t sound real good, you say it like that. Anyhow, like I told you, Festa’s got a bit of a temper on him. Friendly enough fella though. Until he ain’t.”
Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, forced himself to take a couple of slow, deep breaths. “And this Festa, would you say he’s your friend?”
Balen considered this for a moment, “Well, I don’t know as Festa has friends as such. Got a crew, sure, but they ain’t particularly talkative, that lot. Quietest group of seamen I ever met, truth be told.”
“I wonder why,” Aaron said dryly, and Co’s laughter rang in his head. “Well, friend or not, we’d best see if the man has some spare room on his ship. It won’t be long before the guards find us again.” He glanced at Balen’s wounded arm, “And we might not be as lucky the next time.”
The first mate winced, “If this is luck, it’s overrated I can tell you that. Still, you’ve a point. You all would be a whole lot safer on a ship, putting as many leagues between you and Baresh as ya can.”
May stepped forward, frowning, “What do you mean, ‘you all?’”
Balen tensed under the power of that gaze, but he forced his eyes to meet hers. “Beggin’ your pardon err … my lady, but I can’t leave, not without the captain. Weren’t for him, we’d all be dead. Why, if it weren’t for him, I’d have rotted in a cage a long while back. No,” he said, gaining courage as he spoke, “I don’t mean to leave him—I won’t is all.”
May’s eyes narrowed, “And just what do you think your captain would say to his fool first mate who plans on bleeding out hunting the streets for his captain—who was clearly well enough to send a note I might add—while soldiers are looking for him on every corner?”
Balen’s eyes went wide at the woman’s sharp tone, but he set his jaw, and Aaron saw the way it would go. “No point arguing over who’s going and who’s not,” he cut in, “not, at least, until we know if this Festa will take us. Enough talking. Let’s go.”
To his immense relief, the others listened—proof enough, he supposed, that the gods were real—and in another moment they were all hurrying toward the docks, casting nervous glances behind them. By the time they finally made it to where the Lady was docked, the others were breathing hard, sweat beading their brows despite the near freezing temperature
Balen peered at the end of the dock where men worked loading crated goods onto the Lady. He frowned for a moment then his eyes lit up, and he slapped his leg, shaking his head in wonder as he strode forward toward the working men. “Piss in a pot and call it stew,” he called, “is that old Thom the Nose I see hoisting crates, doin’ an honest man’s work?”
One of the men rose from where he’d been squatted over a crate and turned, using his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. Judging by his lined, weathered face and gray hair, Aaron figured the man in his fifties, but the sleeveless shirt he wore showed arms that were gnarled and wiry with muscle. The man hurried forward at a jog when he saw Balen. “By the sea goddess’s tits,” he said as he approached, “if it ain’t Balen Blunderfoot! And here I thought you found yourself a watery grave with that spot of trouble off the coast of that shitty little town … gods, what was its name again?”
“Taren, the locals called it,” Balen said, “and it was a close one, that’s a fact. Still, I’ll make the goddess work for her reward as long as I’m able. And Blunderfoot …” he said, sighing, “I thought I’d left that name behind somewhere out near the western coast of Antaresh.”
“Shit, you about got left behind, maybe, but a name’s a name, Blunderfoot. You know that as well as I.”
“Aye,” Balen winced, “Supposin’ I do. Anyhow, the deck was slippery as an eel. I swear to the gods one of them damn deckhands greased the thing, playin’ at a joke, and if I ever find out who it was…”
The older man cackled laughter at that and clapped Balen on the back, “Good old Blunderfoot. Never met a ship he can stand on or a man he won’t fight. The man’s got him a knack for findin’ trouble and that’s the truth.”
Balen sighed again, ignoring the amused, questioning glances from his companions. “Never seemed to me that I had to look real hard. Anyway, Thom, if it’s all the same to you, I wonder if we can’t have this conversation below decks,” he said, shooting a nervous glance behind them at the docks where sailors went about the business of loading and unloading ships.
The old man cocked his head, thoughtful, “Hold on a damned minute, lad. Is that blood on your shirt?”
Balen looked at the wound sheepishly, “So it is.”
The gray haired man shook his head in wonder, “Same old Blunderfoot. Some things never change. Well, come on then,” he said, ushering them forward and across the gangplank, “Go on up—I bet the captain’ll be right excited to see ya when he gets back”
“Excited?” Balen said.
The older man grinned, “Well, leastways, he’ll be interested.”
Balen sighed, “I was afraid of as much.”
CHAPTER
SIX
The older man led them to the captain’s cabin and sat them down at a beaten up wooden table, its surface dented and cracked from hard use. Aaron sat in what had to be the most uncomfortable chair he’d ever seen, made worse by the fact that its legs wobbled beneath him, threatening, at any moment, to crack and send him sprawling on the floor.
The man, Thom, walked to a cabinet and returned with a dusty bottle, an amber liquid sloshing inside, as well as several tin mugs. He glanced at them shifting uncomfortably in their chairs and nodded, “I apologize for the crudeness of the cabin, loves,” he said, “the captain’s a hard man and not givin’ to soft things. And, as he’ll no doubt tell ya once he returns from shore, the carpenter he hired for the chairs and table did a shit job of it. Naw,” he said with what sounded to Aaron like a hint of pride, “ain’t a chair on the ship that’ll sit you straight, and it’s a man takin’ his life into his own hands to use one of the damn things.”
Gryle squeaked as he nearly fell out of his own chair, grabbing desperately at the table and barely managing to keep himself upright, “What … what do you do, then?” He asked, clutching the table the way a drowning man might a rope.
“What do we do? Well, we do a lot of standin’,” the old man said, throwin’ him a wink. Then he set about pouring their drinks. When he was finished, he propped his back up against the cabin wall, grinning, “Nope,” he said, “not a straight chair in the place. I figure if the captain ever catches that carpenter Salen’ll have another soul to lead across his fields before the day’s out, and the carpenter’ll be glad for the god’s company, I expect. The God of Death’s a cold bastard by all accounts, but the captain’s just about hot enough to burn a man when he gets in his temper.”
“Which he always is,” Balen said.
“Aye, which he always is.” The old man agreed, smiling.
Aaron listened to the back and forth with something like wonder and decided that, as a whole, sailors were unquestionably insane.
“Well, leastways,” Balen said, “the chairs are the carpenter’s fault, as is the table. Certainly not the captain’s for throwin’ ‘em at whoever happens by when the mood’s on him or beatin’ on the table with anything he reckons fit for the job.”
“Course not,” the older man said with a wink. “Cap’s got some real aim on him too lately, Blunderfoot. Why, he throwed one about half a year gone now,
it was, hit Furley from damn near all the way across the ship.”
“Gods,” Adina said, “I hope the man is alright.”
“Who, Furley?” The old man asked, “Oh, sure, he’s right as weather. Just talks with a bit of a lisp is all on account of he lost a few teeth.” He shrugged as if it was a small matter, “The way that chair hit? The man’s a lucky bastard, I can tell ya that. I thought his damn head’d go flyin’ off the way the captain put his whole body behind it. Really sailed that one, he did.”
Balen shook his head with a sigh, “Some things never change.”
“Aye, true enough,” The grizzled sailor said.
“While we’re on that, where’s the rest of the boys?” Balen asked, “I didn’t see any of ‘em when we was comin’ aboard.”
“Boys? Which boys is that now?”
“Well, all of ‘em. How’s ol’ Handsome? Been a while since I seen that mug of his, and that’s a fact.” Balen grinned, “He still buryin’ his oar in anythin’ crosses his path?”
Thom nodded slow, “Well, I don’t think Handsome gets around as much as he once did. Truth to tell, I don’t suppose he’s been called by that name in a few years now.”
“Is that so?” Balen asked. He shook his head, “Well, I suppose the man had a fair enough run anyhow. What, I don’t suppose there’s a man’s daughter that’s of age from here to Avarest ain’t gave that man a bit of their virtue, so much as they have anyway. What happened to him, anyhow? He catch somethin’?” Balen shook his head again, “Why, it’s a wonder he made it this long, the way he’d carry on.”
Thom shifted uncomfortably, “Aye, I suppose you could say he caught somethin’. Or maybe somethin’ caught him, at any rate.”
“How’s that now?”
The old man rubbed a hand across his stubbly chin, “Well, you see that there?” He asked, nodding his head at a particularly large dent in the table’s surface. “That there’s where Handsome got introduced to the captain’s table. Nah,” he said, sighing, “He weren’t so handsome after that. Ya see, this time it weren’t a daughter, so much as it was a niece. Captain’s own, if you’ll believe it.”
Balen whistled, “By the Fields, how’d the man get the notion in his head to do somethin’ so damn foolish as that?”
“Weren’t his head he was doin’ his thinkin’ with, I don’t reckon.” He glanced at Adina and May and his face turned a bright red, “Apologies, ladies.”
May smiled a radiant smile and winked at the man, “That’s quite alright, Thom. It is alright if I call you Thom, isn’t it?”
If anything the man looked even more uncomfortable, his expression one of a mouse finding itself cornered by a particularly hungry cat. “Yes ma’am,” he mumbled, “if it pleases you.”
“Oh, it does,” May said, her voice silky, “it does indeed.”
Aaron raised an eyebrow at Adina, but she only grinned and shrugged. “Anyhow,” Balen said into the awkward silence, “That’s a damn shame about Handsome. One of the best sailors I ever saw.”
Thom nodded, apparently relieved at the excuse to look away from May’s stare, “Sure enough. Still, it ain’t all bad. The captain, see, he made ‘em marry. If I’ve heard right, Handsome’s set up somethin’ pretty, workin’ at a bank, makin’ out like a pirate if what they say’s true. Way I hear tell, most folks don’t even mind that his face ain’t exactly symmetrical anymore.”
Balen nodded, “Well, I guess that’s a good thing. Though I’d never have pegged Handsome for the bankin’ type. I suppose some things do change, after all.”
“True enough, true enough,” Thom said. “Anyhow, enough of old times. Why don’t you introduce me to your mates?”
Balen winced, glancing at Aaron, “It might be better if I don’t, Thom, if it’s all the same to you.”
The older man glanced around at Aaron and the others before turning back to Balen, a gray eyebrow raised, “Like that, is it?”
Balen nodded slowly, “I think it’s probably best if it is.”
“Alright, well, if you think it best Blunderfoot then no doubt it is. Anyway, I take it you all are in a bit of a hurry.”
Aaron frowned, “What makes you say that?”
Thom shrugged, “Nothin’ particular, stranger. Just that it’s cold enough to piss cubes and your man over there’s sweatin’ like Handsome was when the captain found out.”
Even as Aaron glanced at Gryle, the short, chubby man ran a linen cloth over his sweaty forehead. Aaron looked back to the older man and met his eyes, “And if we are? Is that a problem?”
Thom shrugged again, “Ain’t no problem to me, mister. If it was up to me, we’d take you all now and set sail this minute, leave the northmen to their snow and ice. So cold up here, a man wakes up to take a piss—” he cut off, glancing at May and Adina, “err … that is, it’s too cold for my likin.’ Thing is, it ain’t up to me, so if it’s a hurry you’re in, I’d best be on about findin’ the captain.”
Aaron frowned at the man’s back as he started toward the door. All it would take would be for the sailor to decide he’d be best off telling some guards about the strangers on his ship, and Aaron and his companions would be dead long before the ship ever left. He took a step toward the man, but Balen stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Aaron turned, frowning at the first mate, but Balen only nodded once.
“Well,” Thom said, apparently having glanced back over his shoulder in time to see the exchange, “you’ve nothin’ to worry about from me, mister. My head might not be a pretty one, but it’s the only one I’ve got. I find it’s a lot easier to keep it attached to my shoulders if’n I don’t go poking it around in business that ain’t none of my own.”
“Oh, don’t be modest,” May said, smiling a somehow predatory smile, “I think it’s a wonderful head.”
The man seemed to shrink beneath the club owner’s gaze, and he swallowed hard, nodding. “Well, I thank you for the kindness, ma’am. Now, if you all will just hang tight, I’ll go find the captain and bring him back just as fast as I’m able.”
May smiled, “Hurry back.”
The man swallowed again then ducked his head and hurried out of the cabin, closing the door behind him.
Aaron turned to May, “Now, just what was all that about?”
The club owner met his gaze with an innocent, wide-eyed expression he’d never seen on her before, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
She likes him, Co said in his mind, in fact, she is even now thinking about coupling with him. And she does have quite an imagination on her. The things she thinks about doing … I didn’t even know human bodies could—
Enough, firefly, Aaron thought back, keep it to yourself. She shouldn’t be thinking such things anyway—
Why not? You think them about Adina all the time. Why is it any diff—
“Enough,” Aaron growled, and the others turned to stare at him.
Adina moved closer to him and put a hand on his arm, “What is it, Aaron? Are you okay?”
Aaron stared at her hand, at her bright eyes and long, dark hair, and he found himself thinking thoughts at odds with the danger they were in.
See? Co said, like just then—
Aaron coughed loudly, “I’m fine,” he gasped, “I’m fine.” He took a slow, deep breath to get control of himself then turned to the first mate. “Are you sure we can trust him?”
“Who Thom?” Balen asked, “Oh, sure. He’s one of the best men I know. I’d trust him with my life.”
“I hope you’re right,” Aaron said, “because you just did. And our lives in the bargain.”
Balen swallowed hard, and they all shared uncertain looks before getting as comfortable as the chairs would allow, silent as they all thought their own thoughts, worried their own worries.
Co, Aaron thought, back in Avarest when those men attacked us, you did something that let me know they were coming. What did you do?
I did nothing, the Virtue said, you did. It is Kevlane’s Bond,
remember? When a Virtue is paired with a mortal, they both begin to … change.
Aaron frowned at that. Change? Like weeping uncontrollably when I have to stick a knife in someone—because that’s the sort of thing I’d like not to be repeated, if it’s all the same to you. I can’t afford to have that kind of weakness.
It is no weakness, Co said in a long-suffering way, to know compassion. Nevertheless, I will not argue it with you now. Any man or woman who possesses one of the Virtues will share certain similarities, such as what you so stubbornly refuse to see as anything but a weakness. After all, I am the embodiment of Compassion, not the embodiment of Stabbing holes in people and laughing like a maniac while you do it.
“Too bad,” Aaron muttered, low enough so that the others couldn’t hear, “I could use a good laugh.”
The point, Co continued as if he hadn’t spoke, is that no one, not even me, knows exactly what shape the bond will take. After all, people’s idea of what compassion, as well as strength, or intelligence, is differs, having as many forms and shapes as there are leaves in the for—
So you don’t know, Aaron interrupted.
There was a pause then, Correct, Co said in a tight, clipped tone, I do not know.
Aaron fought back a sigh. Then a thought struck him and his eyes widened. Wait a minute. You have no idea what will happen to me, yet you bonded with me just the same, without so much as asking my permission.
Believe it or not, the Virtue said, her tone angry, most people would be very pleased to be bonded by one of the Seven. They would think it a great honor. There are those out there—such as Aster Kalen—who search for them unceasingly.
Aster Kalen. Aaron thought of the skinny man with the scar, of the way he’d thrown people into the ceiling as if they weighed no more than pebbles, thought of the sounds their bones had made when they’d struck the hard slate roof. The man was still out there, somewhere, and Aaron didn’t think he was the type of guy to give up just because he’d failed to catch them once. Not that we don’t already have enough people trying to kill us. Never mind that for now, Co. I want to try something.
A Sellsword's Wrath Page 5
