“Enough,” Rukn snapped.
The slave near Oron shoved him with his foot, knocking Oron from the ladder.
Serhat managed to catch the small man and he hugged her neck, breathing loudly.
“My savior!” he said into her chest.
She scowled and dropped him.
“That was unnecessary. We could’ve been lovers, Serhat, my sun-haired beauty.”
“I’ll admit a strong admiration for your knowledge of the sails and the sea, but you are too little for me,” she said.
Oron stood, dusting his tunic. “Don’t be so quick to judge by size, you lovely beast. I am more than—”
I hit his shoulder. “We need to think about what we’re going to do when we get to the island,” I whispered.
Rukn and his fellow slaves replaced the grating over our makeshift prison. The bars from above made striped shadows across Ekrem’s crooked nose and reached over Oron’s tangled, long hair. Blinking, Serhat stepped away from the light, her vest creaking as she crossed her arms.
“She’s right,” Serhat said. “If they take us to the oramiral and he does not know the amir is dead, we can play confident and possibly secure our release.” She looked to me. “I don’t know what we can do for you, though.” Oron received a look too. “Or you.”
Ekrem scratched at his beard. Calev and Oron had shaved at Aunt’s because of the heat, but Ekrem had kept his scruffy growth.
“It’s possible they won’t hear of the amir’s death,” he said. “Not ever. After all, if our crew mates were all sickened by the silver fog on Ayarazi, they may be stranded still.”
“You two got over it quickly enough. And the rest seemed fresh as lemons when they shot our handsome Calev,” Oron said.
“Yes.” I chewed my lip. “I think they were getting over the sickness. There was a marked difference in their balance and color when we left.”
“Then how long do you think we have before the oramiral hears from Berker?” Ekrem asked.
It was the most important question. We were doomed the moment he got word of the amir’s death. “The journey to Ayarazi took us over three days. But that was with a full ship with a kaptan who knew the Pass better than anyone,” I said.
“Very humble, this one is.” Oron mumbled.
I shrugged. “It’s the truth. We don’t have the sun for humility.” Ekrem and Serhat nodded. “Berker will have half, maybe less of his crew, if my guess on the death toll is right. Many were unmoving when Calev and I woke Oron at camp. And he can’t use Salt Magic like me.”
The deck was quiet above now, only the sounds of slaves’ bells, water, and sail rigging mixed with an occasional shout from Rukn. Was Calev cleaning the filth from Avi’s face right now, cuddling her and bringing her back to who she was? I squeezed my eyes shut. I hoped he was, but I wished my hands were caring for Avi. I knew how to help her without injuring her pride. How to joke and tease to take the sting out of needing someone. She was so much like me that way, the pride and independence.
“Kinneret?” Oron tugged my sleeve. “Berker could already be in Jakobden.”
I shook my head to clear it. Ekrem stared at the ceiling.
“What is the process once they return?” I asked. “How will they inform the kyros of our…offenses?”
Serhat looked as though she could bore a hole in the side of the boat with her eyes. The move to my and Calev’s side still niggled at her. Strangely, I respected her for it.
“They will have sent a rock dove with the message to the kyros,” Ekrem said. “Then the bird most likely returned two days later with orders. Berker will be given control of the proceedings as he was the highest ranked when the amir was murdered.”
“How will Berker and the other fighters know we are even here?” I asked.
“Because of the fight on Quarry Isle, I’d guess the oramiral’s master of doves already sent a bird to the amir’s court with a full report,” Ekrem said.
“So if we have Calev’s luck,” Oron said with a wry smile, “we might have a day until the oramiral knows for certain he isn’t the one that’s allowed to kill us. That it’ll be Berker’s duty to punish us.”
Serhat stepped forward. “Yes.”
“Berker will punish all of us as far as he is permitted.” I blew out a breath, my shoulders heavy. “It will be death, and not in a way I’d choose.”
“You have a way you prefer?” Oron’s eyebrows lifted.
“I’d take a heart collapse while sleeping, or maybe by the yatagan,” I said.
Oron nodded. “As opposed to drawing and quartering, I guess.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Or being burned alive.”
“Hm. Yes.” Oron tapped his chin. “That is not one of my favorites. I’d like an exotic poison.”
“Do you have a plan, kaptan?” Ekrem popped his knuckles.
I smiled grimly. The thought that he still considered me a kaptan of anything was no less than a miracle.
“Actually, I do. If Calev and my sister are treated as equals, they may not be as closely guarded. If the oramiral imprisons us near his own compound—I’m hoping for this because he won’t be certain what to do once he’s heard who Calev is—then maybe Calev can break us out. We can steal a boat.”
“And then?” Ekrem leaned toward me.
I met his eyes. “We go to Ayarazi. Mine silver. Buy our way out of trouble. Shove some of it up Berker’s—”
The ship lurched, and I bent my knees to keep my footing. Oron and Serhat grabbed the same rung of the ladder. He winked at her, and she pulled her hand away as the slaves lifted the grating over our heads.
“Up, prisoners,” Rukn said. “It is time to meet Death.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
With pushes and yatagan tips, they ushered us onto the island. Avi slipped and Calev caught her. My world shriveled around me. The only thing keeping me from screaming until I went mad was the chance that Calev and Avi would be sent home to safety. Calev would figure out what to do about the lie concerning Avi. Somehow he would charm his father into protecting her. They would be safe. I could get through this with that knowledge.
As the slave guards turned us down the path’s right fork, toward the oramiral’s housing, I peered up at the castle fortress where we’d found my sister. Guards stood at the door, calm and armed, as if the entire fight hadn’t even happened, but the earth showed the effects of our struggle. Blackened ground, crisped grass, and trees like a corpse’s dead fingers surrounded the path that led to the fortress and stretched up to the quarry.
Plumes of white dust floated from that far-off area. A handful of slaves, small from the distance, pushed metal carts up the hill away from the quarry, bringing the valuable stone toward us, toward the docks, where it would be shipped to the highest bidder.
The sun was a brand on my exposed arms and nose. The oramiral had set the slaves to work during the heat of the day as punishment for the uprising. A shudder made me lose my step and Serhat grabbed my elbow. This was all my fault.
Now instead of Ekrem and Serhat living to serve and fight and be rewarded, they would be killed. Tortured and killed.
Oron too.
I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them, searching for his stocky silhouette in the messy line of slaves behind us. He walked between two large men, eyes scanning the island. Oron wasn’t a very brave person, compared to Ekrem, Serhat, and Calev, but he’d stood by us the whole way just like every day since I’d met him.
The day Oron came into our life, I’d been eleven years. The fever had dragged Mother and Father away the week before. It hadn’t touched Avi. It had hounded me. I remembered a hearty knock on the door of our hut.
Avi cracked it open, then turned to me. “It’s a tiny man, Kinneret.”
Oron had edged his way in, taking a moment to touch the shamar yam Calev had tied to our lintel. “I heard you have a boat.”
I’d thought he was there to steal from us. Head pounding, I’d pushed off my grass mat, grabbe
d Father’s dagger, and pointed it at Oron. “So what if we do?”
He held up his thick hands. “I’m an excellent first mate. I heard you might need one.”
“You’d work for a young girl?”
“Oh, yes.” His voice had a flat tone to it. It reminded me of the traders from the North. A filthy bunch of people, Father had always said.
“I find the female mind far sharper than any male’s,” Oron said. “And you tend to smell much better.”
He was teasing me. I raised the dagger.
“Plus, a woman will oftentimes pity a poor soul such as myself. Seeing as I’ve been cheated on height.”
“So you’ll work for me, but only because no one else will hire you.”
Oron smiled. “You see, the female mind. There it is again, being sharp.”
“Father said northerners were dirty. Will you keep the boat clean as I direct you?”
He’d laughed then, a big laugh that made him hold his gut and put tears in his eyes. “I don’t think your good father was speaking of mud or offal. He meant something entirely different.”
I hadn’t understood him then, but after years spent watching him drink and give ladies coppers for time spent in tavern corners, I’d learned.
Oron was roguish, but he was also quick with the sail’s lines like no one. He worked hard when he worked. He had saved my life and Avi’s.
Blinking the memories away, I put a hand over my heart. I realized I loved Oron nearly as much as I’d loved my parents and aunt.
Before we entered the oramiral’s house, I glanced at Oron again. He clucked his tongue loudly and held up one finger, two, then three. Count, he mouthed.
He wanted to keep a count of the slave guards we saw. He hadn’t given up hope then.
Had I?
Four yellow tunics walked in front of Serhat, Ekrem, and I. In front of them, two escorted Avi and Calev. Ten—no, twelve—ambled up the path near Oron. I’d seen two at the castle fortress. None stood at the oramiral’s wide door, but surely there would be a few inside. I didn’t know how many were up at the quarry. It was hopeless. We could never fight off that many. If they could find weapons, Ekrem and Serhat could cut through five each, but aside from them, only Calev was good with a dagger. Avi, Oron, and I were near to pointless. Obstacles really, for Ekrem, Serhat, and Calev.
They rounded us into an entry room with a flat stone floor and a low ceiling.
My sister gave me a brave smile, her sunken cheeks making it a mockery of what it normally looked like. I smiled back, bile rising in my throat. I couldn’t wish or pray any harder that she could leave this place with Calev and never set one foot on its horrible shores again.
Near Avi, the biggest of the slave guards had hands on Ekrem and Serhat. Oron stood beside me still and I craned my neck to find Calev’s face in the assemblage. He met my gaze immediately and my blood pulsed hard through my body.
He glanced at the slave nearest him. The short-haired woman stared ahead, not noticing us. Calev looked back and mouthed, I will get you out.
I nodded tersely, my blood shuddering through my arms, making me want to strike out at these people who thought they could take our freedom at will. What gave them the right to take anyone they wanted and do as they pleased? Just because the oramiral was the kyros’s cousin didn’t mean he should be able to mistreat slaves, take orphans from Kurakia’s muscle shoals to slave outside their own culture, and do pretty much whatever he wanted?
My breath came too quickly. This room was too small. Too filled with sweating people and hate and desperation. How could beautiful stone or silver be worth a ruined innocent’s life?
I never thought I’d think it, but now, now I hated silver.
Hated what it made people do. Good people and bad.
“You gave a good fight,” the well-muscled slave beside me whispered, eyes trained on the oramiral. “We wish you would’ve won.”
My mouth fell open. I spun to whisper back, to find out what exactly he meant and how that might help our situation, but he was raised to his full height now and gave no indication that he’d even said anything to me.
His hands shook at his sides as he looked toward the dark corridor at the back of the room.
I turned to Oron and the slave on Oron’s far side glanced at me. He gave me a terse nod, something that spoke of respect.
A shrill voice came out of a dark corridor in the back of the room. The slave near Oron whipped his head around and a muscle in the man’s jaw tensed.
The oramiral’s head brushed the ceiling as he walked out of the corridor. What did he do to these strong slaves to make them fear him so much?
The oramiral’s chin was shaved smooth, his cheeks sharp and proud. With his slanted eyes and straight nose, I had to admit that, while he had none of Calev’s breathtaking presence and his hair had grayed at the edges, the oramiral was a very handsome man. Strange looking, but not in an off-putting way. His odd features made him exotic.
He took a porcelain cup of tea from a skinny little slave walking behind him and slurped its cinnamon-scented contents. His one pearl earring flashed as he returned the cup to the slave’s tray and clapped his hands together.
“Ah, the incredibly ignorant fools are here! Perfect.”
The ends of his yellow silk tunic billowed as he crossed the room to Rukn, whose deferential bow only made him look even more like an oversized monkey.
Rukn rose and held a hand toward Calev.
My heart punched through a beat and seized up. Please, don’t hurt him. Please, believe him.
“This one is Old Farm,” Rukn said. “He claims the scrap of a girl—taken as punishment for her sister’s trespassing in your waters—is his recent Intended.”
The oramiral’s eyes narrowed and he bit his lip. Hands clasped behind his back, he stepped toward Calev. “I suppose you have your sigil ring?”
Calev lifted his thumb so the oramiral could examine the slip of gold. “I am Calev ben Y’hoshua. Son of Y’hoshua ben Aharon.”
“Hm.” The oramiral clicked his tongue. “Well, Old Farm. I know this sigil.”
The oramiral may’ve been one of the amir’s favorites, but he certainly didn’t live by her formal manners. She would’ve always used his full name. It wasn’t a good sign. He wasn’t showing proper respect.
“And it’s true,” he said. “A true sigil.” He raised himself up and extended his arms. “I welcome you to stay here the night and my slaves will sail you to Old Farm in the morning.”
What about Avi?
Calev’s face whitened. “I accept. Do you admit to your mistake with my Intended? Such action is punishable by drawing and quartering by the first law of the first kyros.”
“Oh ho. Someone knows their laws, do they?” He smiled. “Does the law consider a different recourse when said Old Farm mounts a full attack on my island without attempting to speak to me first?” He tapped two fingers on Calev’s chest. “Would’ve saved the both of us a great deal of trouble, yes?”
My gut went cold. Calev held his chin high.
“I will honor your claim on the girl,” the oramiral said quietly.
He spun as a chunk of my heart stitched itself back together. At least Calev and Avi would be safe. Maybe this afternoon, or tonight when they were busy with the night work at the quarry, Calev could free the rest of us.
“But,” the oramiral said, “the rest will die. Now.”
My head seemed to float above my body. No. Not yet.
“What about torture?” I asked.
All eyes turned to me. Oron smacked his forehead.
But I had a plan. If we could stall our deaths, maybe Calev could get us free somehow. He might figure out a way to get us out if night fell and he had some cover. I just had to stall for time, had to drag this out, or we’d be dead before anyone had a chance to do anything.
“I heard you are fantastic at torturing people.” I wondered a bit how mad I’d gone. My voice wasn’t shaking nearly as much as m
y knees. I blinked to clear my light head. “Now you’re going to kill us without any excitement at all? Dull.”
A small laugh came from the back of the oramiral’s throat. “Well now. This one is quite the surprise.” He put a finger under my chin. His skin smelled like women’s perfume. “But you are only stalling. Are you worth a wait, I wonder?”
I breathed in and out, the sound loud, too loud.
“Fine.” He nodded.
Strong hands pushed me from behind and I fell to the floor, my hands striking the stone and sending pain jolting up my arms.
“Stop.” Calev’s voice only made this worse. I didn’t want him to suffer too.
“My apologies, Old Farm, but aside from the archaic law that I will not break because of my relationship with the amir, you have no power here,” the oramiral said.
The oramiral grabbed my hair and I clenched my jaw to keep from shouting.
“I think I’ll give you my mark. Though I’ll most likely throw you into the sea and your wraith form won’t show it later, I’d like to claim you somehow. You are so very exciting.”
I heard Calev’s shouting and struggle as if it was happening far away, in another world.
A chill scratched through me. He was going to throw me into the Pass. I’d become a Salt Wraith. I opened and closed my hands, imagining salt sharpening my fingers and vengeance as my only drive.
The oramiral didn’t give me time to pity myself. He flashed a dagger from his sash.
“Stop!” Calev called out again, and I heard the smack of knuckles to flesh. Calev grunted and brought down every Old Farm curse known to mankind.
Avi’s crying grew louder.
Oron tried to grab me and was dragged away to the side of the room.
I had to drown them out. To focus and keep the oramiral’s mind on me.
Between the oramiral’s fingers, an emerald the size of a bumblebee blinked from the hilt. The oramiral glanced at the slave holding me.
Waters of Salt and Sin: Uncommon World Book One Page 26
