A New World

by Lina J. Potter

  Jess was tortured by doubt as he walked through the palace. When he saw the face of Miranda, who ran out to meet him, he almost groaned.

  So many things were written on her face. Hope—had they found her mother? Were they going to? Grief—her mother wasn't there. Surprise—why hadn't Jess found her? Disappointment—how could it be, that was her mother, and he...

  It hurt, it hurt a lot. Jess pulled his daughter close.

  "Mirrie, we need to talk."

  "We do," she agreed.

  "How's Nanook doing?"

  "He's lying down, mostly. It hurts when he tries to step on the paw," Miranda said, sighing in a very grown-up way. "Tahir's already checked him. He washed the paw, dressed the wound, and said that it probably won't swell. Still, I'm watching him, just in case."

  "That’s right."

  Jerisson would have loved to talk about the dog the whole day, but who would ever let him? Miranda wasn't used to putting off questions.

  "Papa, so what's going on with Mama?"

  "She's on a ship to Avester."

  "Why?"

  "Because we can't prove anything yet..."

  "Papa!"

  "Mirrie, honey, if we don't find your mother, I'll sail to Avester myself. I promise."

  "You can't!"

  Miranda wasn't stupid, and her morning conversation with Eric put everything in its place. Lily had never hidden anything from her daughter, either. What was the point? Lying was all about crying wolf. You lie to your child once, twice, and on the third time, they wouldn't believe you. No amount of regret would fix that mistake.

  And so, Lily never lied. She told her daughter even the most hard-hitting things as honestly as she could. At most, she simply asked her to keep quiet about this and that, and Miranda did. She kept her word, too. She was going to keep quiet about Avester as well—there was no need to discuss that with anyone, even the people closest to her.

  "I don't care. I won't abandon Lilian. And...you know..."

  "Mama promised me a brother or a sister. Is this what you're talking about?"

  "Yes."

  "You can't leave her alone, then!"

  Jess patted his daughter's jet black hair.

  "I know, sweetie, and I promise you that I won't leave Lilian alone. I will get her back, but going now means starting a war with Avester. His Majesty Entor..."

  Girls weren't supposed to say the things that Mirrie had just muttered through her teeth.

  Still, Jess pretended not to hear. After all, he would have cursed even worse.

  Miranda fell silent and pulled herself together.

  "Papa, I'll watch out for the children. But I hope you'll return Mama to us soon."

  Jess scooped his girl up and froze. Mirrie, honey...when have you grown up so much? When have you become an adult?

  But she was still his baby, his best and brightest.

  "Mama will be so proud of you."

  He wasn't crying, not at all.

  It was just wind...there was such a draft in the palace! How could Richard allow that?!

  ***

  She didn't recognize him.

  Ellis Rois was lying on a narrow cot that rocked with the waves, smelling the stale air of the orlop deck and recalling the woman whom Baron Lofrayne had personally escorted to the cabin.

  She didn't recognize him.

  It had happened three years ago. Just three years ago, Ellis was a leir of Wellster, happy and content with his life...fine, not that content. What is it that every landless noble wants? To get land. Baron Fremont had promised him land if Her Majesty Albitta took the throne. She just needed a little bit of help... A rebellion? How can you say that! Let's call it restoration.

  How could returning the throne to a lawful monarch be against the law? Her Majesty Albitta had been pregnant, His Majesty Gardwig had an elder son, and really... For goodness sake, Gardwig was hated by half the country. He had been infringing on the church, had once said that he would make his own dog the aldon, married and divorced at will...

  Nobody was even going to dethrone him—just ask him to step away. Duke Alcine simply hadn't expected it, really—that instead of talking, Gardwig would try to resist and grab a weapon. Well, it happened. No more Gardwig. Whatever. Nobody was going to mourn him, would they?

  The first time Ellis felt something was amiss was when Milia escaped. Nobody thought that Gardwig's wench could do anything. How could she? She was a country mouse: grey, homely, always pregnant. A sheep! With her full belly, her eyes looking down, her sour face... No beauty, no intelligence, but go figure—somehow, she managed to flee, and the entire army of mercenaries was unable to find her!

  It was then when Ellis first heard the name that he remembered. Lilian Earton.

  Fine, accidents happen. Milia escaped, but that couldn't last long. That bitch would never get anywhere; she'd be found. But the joke was on him. Princess Maria also escaped, and also with the Eartons' help. Afterward, Milia managed to get to her troops, contact Altres Lort...

  The coup became a complete fiasco, and whose fault was that? That was obvious.

  Count Lort came first. Milia of Wellster, currently the regent for her young son, came second. But there were other people—including Lilian Earton.

  Ellis remembered Baron Fremont cursing at her when he got drunk, when they decided to flee Wellster. Ellis succeeded, but the baron stayed behind, and his skull was probably already sun-bleached. Ellis was still alive, but he wasn't really enjoying his life. It was better than death, of course, but much worse than what he had before—and definitely much worse than what he deserved.

  Ellis had bad luck. He quickly ran out of money and had to take up with some mercenaries, but fortune turned its back on him. Twice his group was cut down almost to a man. By some miracle, he survived, but nobody was willing to recruit him anymore. Warriors were even more superstitious than pregnant women.

  And so, Ellis had to apply to a ship. Being a sailor...was it a good career for a leir? And he could have been a baron or a count at the court of Her Majesty Albitta. Who was to blame for all his troubles?

  That bitch, of course. Lilian Earton.

  Well, she wasn't the only one, of course, but the others were beyond his reach. Could he really try taking it out on Altres Lort? Now that would be a kickback! Lilian, however, was an ordinary woman just within his reach.

  Ellis rubbed his hands. Just you wait, wretch. I'll find a way to get to you.

  So Lofrayne had rented his ship to get Lilian Earton to Avester? Let him. And one night...

  Ellis thought it would have to be his shift, or One-Eyed Mackey's, or Monkey Tom's. He would have to plan it out. Still, one thing was certain: Lilian Earton wasn't going to reach Avester alive.

  And so, Ellis started mopping the desk, whistling under his nose. The decision had been made. At least one bitch was going to pay for his broken life!

  And there was no escape for her.

  ***

  Lily kept vomiting for three days straight. After that, her body finally adapted to being at sea, allowing her to stand up, drink water, and even hold it inside. She even went as far as to try eating a piece of dry bread soaked in water.

  Yep, it was a trick. If you tried chewing a dry rusk, you could say goodbye to all your teeth forever. Hardtacks and biscuits also often had weevils in them, too, or rather their larvae. It would be much better to soak the rusk so they could get out, or she'd risk eating bread with meat. Lily was quite accepting of Chinese and African cuisine, but eating insects was a step too far for her.

  Anthony visited her a couple of times. He brought some books, cloth, a needle and thread, and even scissors...made of gilded silver! Lily would have to waste an hour to even cut a sheet of fabric with it; stabbing someone to death with them was out of the question. It wasn't even funny. She might spend a week poking a body with them without damaging vital organs. It was a real torture instrument. You'd exhaust a person but never kill them.

  As Lofrayne's visits always cause
d the countess to start retching violently, probably because of her nerves, he never stayed in her cabin for longer than a few minutes. An attempt to send a doctorus resulted in a furious growl and emptying the waste bucket right on the "clyster pipe." Really, why should she be soft on her abductors? The doctorus hadn't expected such aggression, so the countess, to her utmost delight, was left without any medical help.

  But on the fourth day, the nausea subsided, and Lily was finally able to move. She put her hand on her stomach, sensing a pulse beneath her fingers. Was that the celiac artery? But Lily was quite convinced that she already felt her baby.

  "Don't fret. We'll tough it out, kid."

  She looked over the cabin with the eyes of a mostly healthy person who had to spend some time there until she could escape. Yeah, even a canary cage had more space. Maybe she should lose weight. Not that it would really help, unless she was willing to turn into a dried fish to be eaten as a snack.

  Well then. She would have to sort that place out.

  When the baron entered the cabin that evening, he was quite surprised. Lily had picked through the stuff in the closet, made the bed, fixed the curtains... A ribbon there, a patch there, but the results were obvious. The place seemed cozy and fit for living.

  Lilian herself decided to recall the bad mannerisms of a medical student and didn't even turn her head to the visitor. She was busy.

  She was going to escape from Lofrayne, and how was she to accomplish that? Quickly, preferably. Jokes aside, what was the most important part of an escape?

  The right clothes. Have you ever tried getting in a boat in a riding habit? Or walking along the shore? Lily wasn't going to even try. To make her escape, she would need the right clothes and shoes, and that's what she was going to make.

  As for footwear, she at least had her trusty old boots, which she was quite fond of. Still, it was better to play it safe. Maybe she should prepare some footwraps or stitch a few pairs of socks... She also needed pants, a shirt, and a jerkin of some kind. Lily's riding outfit looked great, no argument, but after three days of fun with the waste bucket, it lost most of its shine while acquiring a certain stench. She needed plain comfortable clothes that didn't restrict mobility.

  Therefore, she was busy drawing a pattern of oversized pants. She knew her measurements...well, mostly. An inch here, an inch there—it didn't matter.

  Length could be adjusted after the fitting, and as for the width, it was better to be generous. There was enough fabric, and it's not like she had paid for it. She hadn't asked to be abducted, but they did it anyway. Let them pay.

  Realizing that he was being ignored, the baron tapped the walls with his knuckles. He was rewarded with a vacant look of the green eyes.

  "What is it?"

  "I see you're feeling better, Your Grace."

  "Through your prayers, no doubt."

  "Oh, yes, I prayed for you..."

  "How about offering a sacrifice for my health? The Virmans do that. One goat might just be enough," Lily couldn't help but quip.

  "A goat?"

  "Yes, thrown overboard."

  Anthony finally got the hint and turned crimson. Still, he held back. After all, she hadn't called him a goat directly, and intonation wasn't much evidence.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Patternmaking. For sewing," Lily said, staring at the fabric with a thoughtful expression. "After all, you didn't think of my wardrobe when you kidnapped me."

  He couldn’t object to that. Saying, "I wasn't sure if the abduction would succeed" would look stupid.

  "This isn't Mariella production, of course..."

  "I am Mariella." Lily couldn't resist paraphrasing Louis XIV. Unlike him, she wasn't a state, but she did have her small trading empire.

  "Undoubtedly," Anthony agreed. "And I'll be happy to visit you in Avester."

  Lily shook her head.

  "Why do you think, Baron, that I'll stay in Avester?"

  "Your Grace," Tony said and gave her a reproachful look, realizing that the situation was much graver than he had thought. He was deceived by the lack of hysterics, tears, screaming, and pleas typical for any woman in such circumstances. Lilian hadn't given up. She didn't accept her fate. She simply decided to change the outcome at the first opportunity. That's why she was so calm—why waste her strength on crying?

  "You must realize that His Majesty Entor—"

  "His Majesty's plans don't interest me in the slightest," Lily snapped.

  Tony shook his head.

  "Your Grace, you'd better not say anything like that to His Majesty. Our ruler can be...brash in his decisions."

  Lily shrugged.

  "I have no desire to meet your ruler, so his personality doesn't matter to me."

  "I suppose only his desires matter."

  "He's your ruler. Satisfy his desires yourself," Lily said dismissively.

  She wasn't even trying to be rude; she just said what was on her mind, and if someone had a wrong impression... Well, it happened.

  Tony turned red, then crimson. Still, killing a valuable captive would be counter-intuitive. Better to deliver her to the king and let His Majesty deal with her himself. Anthony would get his reward in any case—after all, he did get the countess to Avester, even if without her consent.

  Well, that's how it worked out. If she were more agreeable, that voyage would have been so much nicer for both of them.

  But it was time to change the subject.

  "Will you have dinner, Lilian?"

  Lily winced. Still, refusing food was stupid. Starving and weak, she wouldn't be able to escape. Complaining about his manner of addressing her would be just as silly, too. They could call her whatever they wished, even a Rust Bucket. All she could do was to give as good as she got.

  "Yes, you can bring my food to the cabin."

  The baron realized her implication, and he clearly didn't like being compared to a waiter. His eyes became dark, like the stormy sea, instead of their usual light green color.

  "Won't you keep us company?"

  "Us?"

  "Me and the captain with his mates."

  "Hmm...aren't captives supposed to sit still in their place?"

  Lilian didn't really want to go, and her voice made it clear.

  "You're not a captive. You're my treasured guest."

  "I see. And how much am I worth as a treasure?"

  The baron frowned.

  "More than enough."

  "Then tell your men that your guest is in a mood and doesn't want to see anyone."

  The baron shrugged.

  “I can’t. You must understand, Countess, I don't want to displease the men..."

  "And I have no wish to please them," Lilian retorted. She thought that it was better if they had to persuade her.

  She did want to have a look at the ship, find out who the other people were and what could be expected from them. However, if the baron realized that, she would get locked in the cabin until they reached the shore, no doubt about that. That man didn't seem like a small-time sadist, but she had already trampled his pride enough, both figuratively and literally. He had never been her friend in the first place, anyway. Lily didn't want that.

  She didn't need that ship. She didn't need the baron. Leave her in peace in the cabin! Get gone!

  She managed to convince herself of that well enough to start feeling frustrated. Why were they dragging her somewhere? She had no desire to talk to anyone. Scram!

  What is the most important thing about acting? Believing in what you're trying to feign. You must be, not just act. That's why Lily kept petulantly tapping the scissors against the table. Baron, begone! Let me return to my business!

  Anthony furrowed his eyebrows.

  "Your Grace, I urge you to join us for dinner."

  Lily struck the table with the scissors.

  "I don't want to."

  "I insist."

  The countess hissed but stood up.

  "Sir Lofrayne. If you abducted me, then at
least permit me to travel without seeing your disgusting face!"

  Lofrayne broke into a nasty smile. There was no doubt—he wasn't going to do that.

  "Your Grace, you can continue to starve."

  Lily didn't argue the benefits of therapeutic fasting, but she had already spent three days doing just that.

  "Hopefully, my presence won't do you any good."

  "Grace us with your company, Countess."

  "They say, seasickness is contagious," Lily retorted. Maybe they would believe that and get off her back? But even Lofrayne wasn't stupid enough to fall for that. Shame.

  "I insist, Your Grace."

  Lily sighed, pushed her drawings aside, and stood up.

  "I hope you all get scabs..."

  The last word was so quiet that Anthony pretended to be deaf. And still...

  What a bitch!

  ***

  The ship was far from a cruise liner—at least, that was the only thing Lilian Earton could say after ten minutes of examining it. The corridors were narrow, the ceilings were low, and the messroom was just big enough for two smallish cats. Cramming dogs there would be cruel; Nanook and Lou-Lou definitely wouldn't fit.

  The company at the table wasn't numerous—or especially respectable. Even in the dim light of the ship's lantern, Lily could see that the cabin was rundown, the table scratched with knife marks, as if someone had taken pains to ruin it, the cookware dirty, and the residents...

  Well, with their looks, professional beggars from the Twenty-first Century would buy out their entire wardrobe. Everything was smeared with grease, shabby, and patched-up. It made sense that nobody would wear their holiday clothes to a shift, but wasn't it customary to change before dinner? Fine, to hell with clothes, but they could have at least washed up or brushed their beards!

  Pirates? Those weren't sea dogs rather than unlucky coyotes, although still dangerous and mean. They could bite people to death, too. Coyotes might be considered cowardly, but if they formed a pack... Smart, cunning, and vicious, they would easily kill a human.

  At the moment, six men were sitting at the table. The baron himself, the captain of the ship, the navigator, the boatswain, and the pater. Well, and Lilian.