Aleksi’s upper lip raised into a disdainful grin as he watched Kefta disappear back through the navigation room doors.
“Are you OK?” Brayden asked Aleksi as he retook the helm.
“I’m fine.”
“I can’t believe the mainsheet snapped,” Brayden continued. “Kefta is an ass, but he would never cut a ship’s line.”
“Well, someone did.”
“Still, your jump was incredible. Before the mainsheet broke, Kefta really thought he had you. He never expected that you could have swung out to avoid the boom even if it had only come across normally.”
Cradling his right arm close to his body, Aleksi let out a great sigh. It seemed as if a tremendous amount of tightly held tension flooded from his body.
“Actually,” Brayden continued, “neither did I . . . Aleksi, how did you move that fast?”
“I have spent a long time practicing my art. The idea to slide down the halyard line, however, I got from you.” Aleksi forced himself to smile as he looked at the boy. “And a lucky thing, too; I would have destroyed my blade’s sheath had I tried a jumping roll directly onto the deck from that height. I wish I had had your gloves, though . . .”
“Well, I bet you couldn’t see it, but Kefta’s look of disbelief was amazing!”
“Brayden, just wait until tomorrow.”
The day continued slowly as Aleksi waited for the captain’s dinner party. After getting salve from Dr. Marlen, the youth unwrapped his arm in the privacy of his own room. His palm had some mild rope burn, but his bandage had saved him from the worst of it. His Rune, however, pained him greatly and had grown considerably. The nerves of his hand looked infected with multicolored red, black, and blue lines spiderwebbing out from his palm. They nearly covered his entire hand, wrist, and forearm, but Aleksi knew the vast majority of the tendrils were hidden deep under his flesh and out of view.
Aleksi flexed his right bicep. He winced in pain as he felt the sharp ends of his Rune’s metallic tendrils dig into the muscle of his upper arm. The external skin there was not as affected, but he could feel that the tendrils had reached nearly to the nerves of his shoulder. As he re-bound the covering, he had to wrap the gauze even higher up his arm. Within a matter of days, the Rune would reach his spine—if it was able to enter his central nervous system unchecked, all would be lost.
As Aleksi was about to leave his cabin, he heard a knock at the door. Opening it, the youth found a tray of food on the floor. He ate in silence.
Aleksi hardly tasted it.
After Aleksi finished his meal, he left his room and ascended the ladder. Kefta was at the helm and grinned when he saw Aleksi.
You won’t be grinning tomorrow.
Aleksi settled himself at the bow. Leaning his back against the forward chaser, he opened his sketchbook. He wanted to think of better things than his anger at Kefta or his apprehension over Luka. Thoughts of her were infinitely better.
Gazing at the pictures of the young woman, Aleksi instantly felt a strong awareness of her fill his chest. She was real, he knew it. Despite this, Aleksi didn’t know if he would ever be able to find her again. The thought made his heart ache.
What happened last night? And, more importantly, who is she? This whole thing doesn’t make any sense . . .
Before Aleksi could start drawing, Nara walked up next to the youth. “What have you got there?” the large man asked, gazing at Aleksi’s sketchbook. “Wow, she’s a pretty one.”
“Just some drawings.” Aleksi quickly closed the book.
“She a friend of yours?” Nara asked, smiling.
“I’m not sure . . .”
“Women are a bit of a mystery, aren’t they?” Nara sat down next to Aleksi. The youth didn’t respond and Nara continued. “Quite an incident you had with Kefta this morning.”
“You heard about that?”
“The whole crew did.”
Aleksi shook his head.
“Tomorrow,” Nara continued, as he idly scratched his stitches, “go easy on him, OK? The boy just lost his brother, and not all of us have had . . . training like you. Besides, I doubt that snapped line was his fault.”
There was a long silence as they both gazed out at the distant horizon beyond. The morning’s clouds had disappeared, and the Zeniths’ afternoon rays now danced on the water’s surface for as far as the eye could see. Aleksi felt his attention gravitate back to his sketchbook—back to her.
“Why is Fa’ell so upset with you?” Aleksi asked, breaking the quiet.
“That, my boy, is a very long story. But I will say this. It’s surprising—the things people do for love. Those choices are not always easy to understand. Or, at times, forgive.”
“I don’t get it,” Aleksi said slowly. “If someone loves you, then why would they push you away?”
“It seems as if you speak from experience.” Nara gestured to the sketchbook in the youth’s lap, but Aleksi remained silent. “The beauty is, son, you don’t have to understand. You just have to respect the fact that they have their own reasons. And know that those reasons could be very important to them. Unfortunately, those reasons also might be more important than you . . .”
Aleksi looked at the large man expectantly, and Nara let out a great sigh.
“In my own case, the cause of Fa’ell’s ire was something I did for love. Regrettably, my actions were something she could not forgive. Both in spite of, and due to, her own love—love for me and, more importantly, love for her family.” Nara put a hand through his hair and smiled awkwardly. “But what of you, son? The young lady in your drawings, have you done something to wound her?”
“I don’t know,” Aleksi said, looking away. “It’s hard to tell.”
“Ahh, isn’t it always?”
“This situation is . . . unique.”
“Yes,” mused Nara. “We all think that. Sadly, the troubles between men and women have been disturbing them both long before the Zeniths ever gave their first light. The details change, son, but, sorry to say, the themes themselves—they stay the same.”
Aleksi tried to remember what Nara had said to Fa’ell back in Mindra’s Haven, but he could not recall. “Nara, what are your details? Between you and Fa’ell, I mean.”
“Remember what I said about certain questions?” Nara said, chuckling. “Suffice to say, it’s a long story . . . and, more importantly, a story better told over strong liquor. Who knows, maybe someday I will tell it to you. But for now, I will say only one more thing. Despite my best intentions, the lady Fa’ell did not take kindly to several choices I made. Choices which, despite their great cost, most certainly saved her life.”
“In Mindra’s Square?”
“Oh no.” Nara shook his head. “In her mind, I’m sure that only added greater insult. Our dilemma occurred several long years ago and on the other end of the world. Sometimes I wonder how our situation would have played out differently if we both had hailed from the same Arkai. Sadly, with my being green and gold of eye and from Iksir, and her having eyes of amethyst from Sihtu, our having children together is biologically impossible. This can . . . complicate a relationship.”
“How long have you known each other?”
“Oh, a long while now,” Nara said, his smile widening as he scratched his scars. “I’m actually a good deal older than I look. Although not nearly as old as our fearless captain.”
Aleksi glanced over Nara’s latticework of raised scars and grimaced when he came to Nara’s newer wounds. The fresh skin was just beginning to rejoin around the dark stitches. The pink gashes looked strange next to the pale, muted flesh of the older scars.
Images of the bloodshed in Mindra’s Square suddenly flashed in Aleksi’s mind.
Would that be how the soldiers’ wounds would look now, had I not killed them?
Aleksi did his best to push away the memory of the dead man’s gaping wounds and blank eyes—eyes that stared into nothing as the soldier lay on the cobblestones in a pool of his own blood.
“Given time, they all look the same,” Nara said softly. “They always do.”
“What?” Aleksi’s head spun to Nara in surprise.
“My scars,” Nara answered. “You were staring at them. Marlen did a good job with the sutures. The new wounds look to be healing well. They will match the others and be a nice addition to my collection, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Y-Yes . . . I suppose so.”
Nara paused, then continued in an even softer tone. “There is something I want to ask you, Aleksi. Do not take offense.” Nara cleared his throat before he went on. “The . . . Rune work you did for General Beck. Can you do anything for my withdrawal? Unfortunately, Fa’ell is right. In the next several days things will get very bad for me without my soma paints.”
“. . . I’m sorry,” Aleksi answered slowly. “I cannot help you alone . . .” His words trailed off.
“I assumed as much,” Nara said, letting out a great sigh. “Still, I thought I would ask. Regardless, I thought your kind were not allowed out of your Academies. Where is your Master and why—”
“A very good question indeed,” Luka said from behind them. “Aleksi, what did your Master say when you left him? Did he not try to stop you?”
Both Aleksi and Nara spun around. Nara rose to his feet like a mountain of muscle, and Aleksi shifted onto his knees, hands flashing to his blade. Looking up at Nara’s flexed shoulders, Aleksi was taken aback by the sheer magnitude of the man’s taut might.
“Mind your own damn business, Luka,” Nara growled.
“Strong words for a man knocking at death’s door,” Luka said with a smile. “In what stage is your withdrawal?”
“You would be wise not to tempt my ire,” Nara responded, taking a step toward Luka, “for it’s a very long swim back to the Northern aristocracy.”
“Do not forget the punishment of assaulting a guest upon a Western ship.”
“Guest? You? Hardly. More like a stuffed blouse waiting to be ransomed off to the highest bidder!”
“You cannot possibly imagine what I am, little kitten,” Luka said, as his green eyes glittered.
“Have you had your audience with the captain yet?” Nara retorted. “Because it seems like you are still a prisoner aboard this ship. Is that not what they are for?” Nara motioned to the two men standing several paces behind Luka.
Luka’s lips curled up into a sneer.
“Be off with you, Nobleman,” Nara continued, as Aleksi’s hands relaxed on his blade. “I, much like the captain, have little patience for the pandering of fools.”
“Speak carefully, Nara.” Luka answered. “I would hate for your own noble father, Raegnar, to hear your words, lest he come looking for you. It’s been oh so long since you graced his halls in Iksir, or so I have been told . . .”
Nara’s eyes went wide and Luka turned to Aleksi.
“And no need to answer my question now, boy. We can talk more about your Master tonight over dinner in the captain’s chamber—for I have indeed been granted my audience. And, interestingly enough, you both have been invited to spectate. Our dinner together shall prove to be most interesting . . .”
Without another word, the nobleman turned and walked away. As Aleksi stood, he saw that Nara’s face had gone pale. The large man remained silent and walked to the edge of the ship’s prow.
As the Zeniths’ rays turned a setting hue of crimson, Nara stared out at the horizon, lost in contemplation.
CHAPTER XX
Aleksi heard the sound of the ship’s bell ring as he watched Nara gaze out at the ocean.
“Aleksi, you go on ahead to the captain’s chamber for dinner.” Nara’s eyes were still locked on the sea. “I’ll meet you there in a moment.”
Aleksi nodded and turned toward the stern of the ship. As the youth crossed the main deck and approached the navigation room, Luka’s question rang in his ears. What did your Master say when you left him? Did he not try to stop you?
Aleksi’s chest grew tight as anxiousness rose up from his gut. If Luka is a Master . . . Aleksi’s fear turned into panicked dread as he walked across the quarterdeck. He did not have time to ponder the thought further, however, for as he opened the navigation room’s door, Kefta spoke suddenly from within.
“The crew are all very excited for our duel, Aleksi, so make sure you don’t drink too much tonight; I would hate to have your mind dulled for our match.” Before Aleksi could answer, Kefta turned to face Kairn as he continued. “And speaking of dull, I hope the sailing master does not bore you with his dusty old maps and navigation toys tomorrow morning. I don’t know which would be worse, a hangover or a lesson with Kairn!”
“Oh, I have a feeling Aleksi will be just fine,” Kairn said, as he stepped next to Kefta, “for he is a very smart lad.” Kairn then slapped Kefta hard on his back, directly on his newly healing whip wounds. “I truly wish I could say the same for you!”
Kefta tried his best to not flinch, but Kairn roughly rubbed his hand on Kefta’s shoulders for emphasis. “OK!” Kefta yelled. “I yield! I yield!”
“Oh, come here,” Kairn said, laughing as he embraced Kefta in a deep hug. “Welcome to the officership; you earned it—just like your lashing and duel tomorrow. Your brother will be greatly missed, but he is being replaced by a fine, although foul-mouthed, sailor. Just be careful with the booms next time, eh? I have a feeling you will be earning a few more welts because of it.”
Kefta was about to respond, but Nara opened the great double doors to the navigation room. Instead of entering, the large man spoke. “I can hardly fit in here as it is. With you three blocking my way, I will surely knock over all those pretty maps of yours, and you will have only yourselves to blame.”
“My apologies, Lionman,” Kairn said with a smile. “Let us all enter into the captain’s chamber together. The other officers are already inside.”
As Kairn opened the door into the room beyond, Aleksi saw that the captain’s large cabin had a surprisingly nice interior. The chamber was fitted with all manner of luxuries including festooned wall benches, fancily upholstered cushions, and even gilded lanterns that hung from the ceiling. The decorated benches were built into the walls and above them were shelves laden with hundreds of books and innumerable stacked scrolls. The floor was adorned with a finely emblazoned rug, and there was a good-sized carved cherry dining table in the center of the room. The table looked as if it could fit at least sixteen men if they sat snugly. Currently, however, there were twelve table settings and each was laid with the finest Western dining ware. Although tight by the standards of land dwellers, the cabin was undeniably elegant and truly befit an admiral of the Western Thalassocracy.
As he entered the chamber with the rest of the group, Aleksi’s eyes were drawn to the back of the room. Past the dining table and the captain’s writing desk, there was a gallery of five large paned windows that spanned the stern of the ship. The windows’ burgundy curtains were pulled back, giving the cabin a perfect view from the Diamond’s stern. Looking outside, Aleksi could clearly see the ship’s frothy wake in the Zeniths’ fading light. It glowed brightly from the churning of the bioluminescence and stretched out into the distant horizon beyond.
“Welcome!” Domadred said, as the small group made their way inside. “Please have a seat.”
Domadred was facing the door and seated at the head of the table. Brayden sat to his right. Next to the boy was Levain, the carpenter, and then Mareth, the newly appointed master gunner. To Domadred’s left was Valen the boatswain, and then Dr. Marlen. Other than Marlen, all seated at the table had the iconic blue eyes and golden-blond hair of the West. Despite the varying beard lengths and beaded hairstyles of the Westerners, Marlen stood out sharply with his black hair and green eyes.
Beckoning the newcomers to enter, Domadred stood and pushed back
his chair. He then extended a hand to the remaining six open seats. Kefta and Kairn wasted no time in approaching the table. The other seated officers gave Kefta their congratulations as he pulled a chair out next to Marlen on Domadred’s left. Kairn then sat next to Mareth on the opposite side and held a chair out for Aleksi. As he did, the door opened again and Luka entered. Without saying a word, the nobleman stepped past Nara and Aleksi and took the seat at the head of the table opposite Domadred.
“Welcome, Luka,” Domadred said with a frown. “Please make yourself . . . comfortable.”
“Oh, I intend to, Captain,” Luka said with disdain as he sat. “I am honored to finally receive your hospitality.”
“Nara, Aleksi, please sit,” Domadred said, ignoring Luka’s words. “All we wait for now is our lady of honor.” Aleksi took the seat offered by Kairn on Luka’s left, and Nara claimed the seat across from Aleksi.
As Nara sat, he looked at the empty seat between him and Kefta. “I knocked on Fa’ell’s door on my way over. But she told me to . . .” Nara put a large hand through his hair. “Well, let’s just say she told me to go on ahead without her.”
“Not to worry, Lionman,” Domadred exclaimed. “I’m sure we will receive her at any moment.” Just as the words left Domadred’s mouth, there came a knock on the door. “Please come in,” Domadred answered cheerfully.
The door slowly opened and Fa’ell entered. Seeing her, Aleksi was astounded. She was wearing an ornately sewn indigo gown cut in the fashion of the Western aristocracy, and everyone’s eyes grew wide as she entered the room. Her dress was faintly garlanded with an understated black lace that highlighted her olive skin and dark tattoos. She also wore a small black-chained choker around her neck from which hung a flawless teardrop sapphire. The stone shone in the lamplight and the dress accentuated her fit physique and supple curves.
“You look splendid, my dear,” Domadred said, bowing as she entered. “I knew it would fit. You both have the same lovely figure.”
Rune of the Apprentice (The Rune Chronicles) Page 28
