Slave of the Sea (The Chronicles of Salt and Blood Book 1)

by Dawn Dagger

“I’m not dumb.”

  They were silent for a long moment and Guy examined the skyline, trying to remember how the soldiers were trained in palaces. He rubbed the scar on his eyebrow, lost in musing. He suddenly looked up at Quinn, his thumb still pressed against his brow.

  “The blood on her legs?”

  “No, not sex, or your beating. It is woman nature. She’ll be sick and bleeding for a few days, but she will be okay. We’ll be easy on her until Saint Eva’s wrath passes.”

  Guy felt awkward suddenly, like a boy who had walked in on a conversation between older women not meant for young ears. Quinn spoke of it nonchalantly, so he tried not to be bothered by the fact he did not know how to handle the strange condition.

  Quinn gently put a hand on his shoulder. “I know you care for her, but she must be trained differently and given consideration, Cap’n.”

  Guy let out a sharp sigh through his nose. “She’s just a maid.” He shrugged Quinn’s hand off.

  “You don’t believe that.”

  “No.” Guy shrugged his hand off and readjusted his jacket. “But let me convince myself of it.”

  Quinn just shook his head, then began to press another topic. “You’re wrong about the Black Plague. We kept a lookout, it was just a Bandolinda sick ship. This means the Black Plague hasn’t left Ronartion since early spring… What do you think it means, Captain?”

  “Nothing good, but nothing we need to worry about, I don’t think.”

  “Do you know if the Chinghonesse were in Ronartion during winter?”

  Guy shook his head, taking off his hat and ruffling his curls. “No. Ronartion and Chinghon have not made any sort of pact. Chingonesse do not pass the Allician sea, you know that. Mashha’j being off the ocean for so long is bad. We both know that. He is plotting something with his military whore for certain. But it may not be something we need to bother with. It may be something for rulers and continents and militias.”

  Quinn nodded slowly, thinking on his words. They both stood against the railing of the ship, their arms pressed against the railing, staring out at sea. Finally Quinn said, “You need to give her her own chamber.”

  “I’ll build her one as soon as we get to Avondella.” Guy’s heart ached for the beautiful land as he said its name.

  “Quit putting everything off until Avondella!” Quinn pleaded, obviously irked. “We have so much to do and prepare for and you keep putting it off!”

  “It will be fine.” Guy huffed, turning to walk away from Quinn, frustrated with him.

  “Captain you must focus on the Royalty. You do not even know if your desire still waits. We have not received a letter in a very long time.”

  His words were like a slap across his face, and Guy snarled, turning around. “Do not speak lies or I’ll cut out your tongue!”

  Quinn did not apologize, meeting his sparking blue eyes with calm green ones. The calm made Guy angrier. “It is truth. I yet receive letters. You do not. At the very least, make her a place to change and sleep in peace, yes?”

  Guy glowered at him, feeling heat burn his chest. Insolent man. “Fine,” he spat.

  “Good.” Quinn turned away.

  As Quinn walked away, Guy stared out at the blue expanse of sea, his head hurting. He just wanted to reach Avondella.

  He just wanted to be home.

  For a second he thought he saw a girl splashing through the waves. The beautiful woman tossed her black hair that shone like stars and her green eyes smiled at him. Then she dove beneath the waves, disappearing from sight. Her laughter tinged the air, soft and sweet like a pastry on the tip of a tongue.

  He could not wait to be home.

  The door creaked open and Levanine rose only slightly from where she was nestled in the corner of the cabin, tilting her head up from her book. Quinn pushed his away in, evening his footsteps with the rocking ship. He held a cup in his hand. Levanine watched him from the swadle of blankets she was wrapped in, her wet hair framing her face.

  Had he come in to scold her? Surely not…

  “Come,” he said gently. “I’ve got some tea for ya. It’ll help with your pains. How are you faring?”

  Levanine stood slowly, unwrapping herself and creeping over. She sat before the desk and began to sip the tea. It was soothing and warm and tasted of honey.

  Quinn examined her. “Oi,” he mumbled. He gently tilted her face sideways and Levanine just looked up blankly at him. “How about we avoid letting the Captain see your face until it heals a little, hm?”

  “Y-yes, sir.” She mumbled, feeling her face flush with shame as she stared down into the cup of yellow liquid.

  Quinn patted her shoulder. “We shall put off training for now. Is this the first in a while?”

  Levanine nodded silently. “I nearly forgot it happened.”

  He did not seem to be disgusted with her, so she did not feel as ashamed as she had earlier. She found comfort in Quinn’s pats on the shoulder. He smiled kindly down at her. He nodded again.

  “I should have figured sooner. Well, I am going to go help fish. Creator knows there’s been next to none for days, and we are running low on food… Do enjoy your book, Levanine.” He squeezed her shoulder one last time and left quietly.

  Levanine curled back into the corner with her cup of tea and the book. It was the most wonderful, terrifying thing she’d ever read in her life. It was filled with beautiful illustrations; an accounting of all the wonders and dangers of the sea.

  Its pages spoke of beautiful women who were part fish. They laid on the rocks, sunning themselves, displaying their glory, and singing songs likes harpsichords. Their song was sweet and reminded the men of home and love, and when the men tried to go after the women, they drowned themselves and the women drank their blood.

  It spoke of a giant sea serpent who lived in the pass between Avondella and Dreanis. It slept on the deep, dark sea floor, and surfaced when ships passed. It wrapped its scaly body around the ship and snapped it in half, then licked up the men from the sea.

  Levanine was horrified, yet intrigued by the things it spoke of. She wanted to see the monsters and the islands. She wanted to see the little flower sprites, and the merpeople, and the sea of lilies.

  Levanine finally came to pages and pages about runes-- all written in a different hand. It was fascinating and the runes were very pretty combinations of lines, although Levanine couldn’t really understand what exactly was happening.

  A page described fighting and healing runes, which spun Levanine’s head, but also made her wonder if Rakifi could do such feats. She wiped her nose, which had begun to tickle, as she came across a page that described baiting runes, which caused more fish to be close to the ship, or wormed into men’s minds to convince them to go to a predestined location.

  Or she thought, anyways. She could still only read every third word.

  As she wondered why Rakifi did not use these runes to feed them, blood splattered onto the page. Damn nose, still bleeding, as if she weren’t enough. Levanine rubbed her nose with her sleeve, smearing the cloth with red, then scrubbed it off of the page, smudging the ink slightly.

  Levanine closed and the book and leaned against the cool wood of the wall, closing her eyes. Her head pounded. Maybe she would just sleep.

  Captain Guy pushed tiredly into the cabin. He had gotten the rations sorted. What a mistake he had made in allowing such large meals. Then again, he hadn’t anticipated the rat infested monster island.

  They needed to make a stop sooner than he would have liked. There wasn’t anywhere safe to stop between them and Avondella. That was the issue.

  Two of the men began to laugh hysterically behind him over some joke and Guy sighed. He couldn’t wait to dump the rock-headed idiots off at Avondalla’s port and to recruit people who actually had half a brain in their skulls.

  Levanine was curled up on the bed, across both hers and his spot, asleep. He’d have to wake her to move her over. He sighed
and stooped down, picking up his book from off the ground where it had fallen. He closed it and set it on his desk.

  “Levanine.” He shook her shoulder. She jerked and one almond colored eye opened slowly, then she gasped softly and hid her face in the blankets. She wiggled to move her body away from him, out of his spot.

  “Let me see your face,” he sighed tiredly.

  “No, sir.” She whispered. “Quinn said not to.”

  Guy rolled his eyes and turned away, beginning to unlace his tunic. He peeled it off and tossed by the wardrobe, then pulled a long shirt over his head. He took off his boots and trousers, setting them beside the door, then stood in front of the bed, hands on his hips.

  “Just show me.”

  Levanine didn’t move for a long moment, then she slowly pulled down the sheet off of her face. Guy examined her face with a slight nervousness coursing through his fingers. One of her eyes was black, her nose was bruised, and her lips were swollen. He hadn’t meant to hurt her at all, and if he were, not that badly.

  What rumors would fly if her figured was not healed before arriving at Avondella?

  “Levanine…” He reached out to brush a gash on her forehead and she flinched away. He let his hand fall to his side. “I did not mean to hurt you.”

  “I trusted you!” Her voice pitched as her eyes welled, her hands and lips trembling. “I thought you were different and you beat me!”

  “I did not--!” Guy swallowed the rest of the indignant cry. He composed himself, smoothing his nightshirt. “I was trying to help you. I apologize.”

  “I’m not like you!” She was almost begging, sitting up on her knees now. “I don’t have to be beaten into understanding! You know I’ll obey.” She swallowed hard. “I’ve been trying hard. I’ll try harder. I’m not… used to this.”

  Guy sighed through his nose. “Levanine…”

  “You know I’ll do whatever you ask.” She whispered thickly. Her pale, thin figure began to shiver.

  “I am sorry,” he whispered, reaching out and wrapping his arms around her trembling figure as Quinn might had he offended her so personally. She felt so fragile in his arms, but she did not resist. The Captain was not quite sure of what he was doing. He could not tell if his actions were weak or strong.

  Her thin frame quaked, but she made no sound.

  Guy pushed her back just enough to crawl into bed with her, then held her close as they laid. She curled up tightly against him as Guy’s mind swam with wonderings.

  After a while, Levanine’s shaking eased as she fell into a drowsy state. The whole while Guy was caught up in his thoughts like a skiff in a hurricane. So many things to wonder about. He tried to push the thoughts out of his mind as a question surfaced.

  “Levanine?” She moaned softly. “How many masters have you had?”

  “Ten and two, not including you, sir.” She mumbled.

  Twelve was a large number, especially for a girl of her age. Twelve different masters was the sign of someone who didn’t listen and who never worked. Someone worthless. Insolent. He was sure that wasn’t Levanine. Levanine was obedient and quiet and respectful, all to a deep fault.

  “Have any of them tried to bed you?” He tried to keep his voice soft.

  “A few... I… wouldn’t let them.” Her voice become muffled as she hid her face from him, burying it into her chest. She must have been mostly asleep, not realizing he was not the bed. “They blamed it on me. The wives kicked me out.” He felt her body shrink as she sighed.

  “And they all beat you?”

  Levanine was silent for a very, very long time. Guy let her fight her demons, keeping silent. After a very long time of silence, he began to wonder if she had fallen asleep. As he opened his mouth to address her, she whispered, “All of them, yes. Some more than others. Their sons… their sons particularly enjoyed tormenting me.”

  “Have you ever been anywhere but Dreanis?”

  “Aye. Ronartion for nine moon cycles, and then Harothway for… nine?”

  The Captain nodded and stared at the wall beside them, his mind still wandering and questions still forming. She needed lots of sleep, Quinn had said, so he ignored all of the fruitless questions. He weeded through his musings, ignoring all that were not worth asking aloud. Finally, after what seemed like hours, an appropriate thing formed in his mind. He knew Levanine was asleep. If she woke up he would tell her.

  “Levanine?” He held his breath, hoping she would not respond.

  “Mmm?” She mumbled, shifting sleepily against him.

  “I will protect you. I will not make the mistake of hurting you again. I vow.”

  Levanine did not respond, and he was almost glad of it. He could never keep a vow like that. They were pirates. She was a pretty, impressionable, scared girl.

  He knew of his night terrors. They were prophecy. There was no way they were wrong. He knew the fate of pirates.

  They would die in a blaze at sea. She would be slaughtered like a pig.

  Levanine made a noise similar to a hum and relaxed in his arms. She had heard. This both exhilarated and frightened him.

  The Captain closed his eyes, willing his thoughts to be silent. All was quiet and dark in the cabin, and when he believed no one could hear him he hissed to himself,

  “You are a damn fool.”

  Chapter 14

  The next morning, Levanine had washed and changed, ate a weak breakfast of hardtack soaked in spiced rum and a handful of withered nuts with the Captain that left her belly growling, then spent hours in Guy’s cabin, observing maps of the world.

  Guy explained to her great wonders of Kethaltar: Vedrus’s twisted trees, Ankkalia’s land of jagged ice, Keshnitte’s vicious towering spirals of castles she had never passed, and Utonopia’s lizards that devoured trees.

  He explained how the Chinghonese used strange, long boats with oars instead of sails, and why Bandolinda and Ashienne traded wine, while Ronartion and Keshnitte traded spices.

  It was all intriguing, even if Levanine didn’t exactly understand most of what he was talking about. After a very long while, the Captain dismissed her to ‘get fresh air.’ As she stepped out onto the deck, blinking in the sunlight, she glanced around at the quiet activities and happenings.

  Silva seemed half asleep at the helm, Ska and his colored bird lazed in the crow’s nest, a group of men including Braxton and Eldred played a game with cups and dices atop a pile of crates, and Rakifi and a few other men were tossing nets into the ocean. Everything was peaceful, it seemed.

  “Levanine!” Rakifi called, suddenly trotting up to her. She turned to face him and waited for him to speak. “Come fish with us?”

  “Ah, I don’t--”

  “I’ll show you!” He grabbed her wrist and pulled gently, and Levanine followed, unaware if she should protest. “It’s real easy.”

  She hoped it was. She had never been fishing before. That was the men’s jobs.

  Awla and Norrin hoisted the net out of the water and Rakifi showed her how to hold it and then cast it into the water. Her first few attempts were feeble, and the net fell at her feet rather than over the side of the boat. Her face burned as the men snickered at her, but after the fourth or fifth time, she finally got the rope over the side of the ship and Rakifi smiled appraisingly.

  Awla stretched his hairy, muscular arms, then he and Norrin began towards the other men playing dice. Rakifi leaned forward and rested his forearms on the side of the ship, staring into the blue distance.

  Levanine copied him and stared out into the sparkling sea. It was quite beautiful. Some part of her was still worried that this was all but a very real dream. That she was still in a cell in Dreanis, and that she was going to wake up in the bed of a strange man who was intent on making her bleed.

  Levanine blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fears from behind her eyes. The wind gently blew dark strands of hair in front of her face and she realized it was getting quite long, despite
its condition.

  “Rakifi?” She turned to him.

  He turned to look at her, a gesture she appreciated as the Captain never did when addressing her, and smiled a small smile. “Yes, Levanine?”

  “In the book I read about… baiting runes… Why do we not use those as we are low on supplies?”

  Rakifi pursed his lips, his eyes suddenly distant. After letting out a slow sigh that Levanine mistook for impatience, he gave her another small smile. This smile pulled at the corners of his eyes and lips in a sad way, making him look much older than he was.

  “Because… the runes charm whatever they are on. To write the runes on the boat would cause the creatures to damage it… I haven’t attended an academy, so I… I do not know how to change the runes. I have very basic knowledge.”

  “Oh, yeah. Alright.” It made sense.

  A little.

  It made no sense at all, but she did not want to tire him with endless questions. She pursed her lips and turned away from him. They both stared out into the sea again, the sun pooling on their shoulders and the backs of their necks.

  A few men cried out and Levanine turned to see two high-fiving and two other men throw the dice angrily across the deck of the ship. Silva was most certainly asleep now. Kasha was grumbling, mopping up the deck of seaweed and other debris while Eldred wrapped Quinn’s ribs.

  “Rakifi?”

  Rakifi turned his attention to her again and he smiled once more. The smile was not irritated, and Levanine felt a little relieved that she could ask him questions. “What is an academy?” She couldn’t help it.

  “Well,” he began to crack his knuckles while he spoke, “an academy is where gifted Runecasters and Runecharmers can go. The academies teach the students how to do all kinds of wondrous things with runes, and those who graduate are some of the most powerful and helpful people in all the countries.”

  “Why aren’t you in an academy?” Levanine decided not to bother him with asking about the differences between Runecasters and Runecharmers. She figured she wouldn’t understand it.