by Rebecca Rode
I tucked the information away for later. “You speak of protecting family. Well, these men are mine. I won’t have you risking their lives again. If it comes down to you or them, I’ll choose them.”
“Fair enough.” He took another step closer. “Now it’s my turn for questions. Tell me why I’m the one who defended your father against Kemp today while you just stood there.”
Suddenly aware of how close we were in the dim light, I took a step back. “We aren’t discussing me. Just ignore what Kemp says and keep your head down like we agreed. Remember how the crew isn’t supposed to notice you?”
He was shaking his head again. “Blending in is one thing. But I refuse to cower to a Messaun who threatens the safety of a Hughen ship.”
I groaned. “This is some kind of twisted political game to you.”
“That man is dangerous.”
Aden had no idea. “Kemp wasn’t a threat to you until you challenged him. Lands. I can’t believe you did that. And you both sleep in the crew’s quarters. This isn’t good.”
His expression was incredulous. “It’s not me I’m worried about. Don’t you see what he’s doing, telling secrets and starting rumors? I’ve seen it in court many times. Master Kempton is planting dissent. If you don’t do something, those seeds will grow into mutiny.”
His words were too familiar. They echoed those that ran through my head late at night, when the ship was quiet and my mental defenses had all but sunk into slumber.
“Let me worry about Kemp,” I said firmly. “Focus on your own neck. If your secret is so precious, that should be enough to keep you busy. In the future, you will keep your mouth shut.”
“Seems odd coming from you. You had no problem speaking your mind yesterday when you sent my boots to a watery grave.”
I stabbed him in the chest with one finger. “I’ll say what I like. But you’re on your own if you go all princey on Kemp again. You don’t want to bring his attention upon yourself.”
Aden brushed my finger aside, watching me. I realized my hand was shaking, so I folded my arms firmly against my chest. Surely it was too dark for him to detect such things.
“There’s something you aren’t telling me,” he said softly. Too softly. “Does he know about you?”
Blasted princeling. I kept my face smooth. Aden might have known who I truly was, but that didn’t mean I had to reveal everything. Nobody but Kemp knew about the invisible chain binding my hands. I hadn’t even told Paval, much less Father. The fact that Aden was the first to acknowledge its presence made me want to strangle him with it.
Aden had missed the point. Kemp was threatening, domineering at times, but he was also calculating. While the rest of the crew collected trinkets from ports we’d visited, Kemp collected secrets. And finally, just last year, he’d discovered mine.
I’d left my hammock in the crew’s quarters one night and descended to this very hold, intending to wash myself while the men slept. The sloshing water bucket had covered the creaking of following footsteps on the ladder.
I’d washed myself quickly, leaving my bindings on. Satisfied, I dressed and gathered the lantern and bucket. That was when Kemp emerged from the shadows.
He hadn’t touched me. At least, not with his hands. He’d sworn to keep my secret, but his eyes had betrayed something else. It wasn’t until later that I realized his silence could only be bought with my own—and my entire salary of four silver pieces each month. It had later become six, then ten. By his twice as angry comment in the galley, I knew it had just doubled to twenty. My nerves were on edge.
I’d moved into my father’s cabin the next day. Father hadn’t required an explanation and I had given none.
Since then, I’d watched with gritted teeth as Kemp tore his enemies down from the inside, manipulating and blackmailing them until they transferred to other ships. One man, a particularly defiant Ellegran who’d dared threaten the gun master in a moment of rage, had disappeared during a storm.
Father blamed his loss on a large wave. The crew knew better.
Kemp’s favorite currency was lies and his greatest weapon truth. If I told Father, Kemp would reveal my secret to the entire crew before turning us both over to the land officials—me for my lies and my father for protecting me. We’d both hang. I had no doubt that Kemp would take the ship after that.
Twenty silver pieces. A fortune for a captain’s boy, yet I couldn’t risk breaking our bargain. I shoved my hands into my empty pockets, wishing I could forget the first time I stole to meet my quota. It was a silver piece from Marley’s discarded trousers as he slept. The guilt had kept me up the rest of that night. I’d chosen targets I didn’t like much after that, though they were less trusting with their treasures. I’d never once rifled through Barrie’s or Paval’s belongings. They were off-limits. But now—twenty pieces. Lands. How was I supposed to meet that on a salary of four silver pieces a month?
There was only one solution: the chest under Father’s bed, full of Aden’s coins.
The thought made my stomach flop. I’d done plenty of things I wasn’t proud of, but I would not steal from my father. Never that.
“Lane,” Aden whispered. “You look pale. What’s going on?”
I straightened, gathering what remained of my dignity. “Nothing you would understand.”
“Oh?” A bitter chuckle. “Because I’m too lofty to have real problems, I suppose.”
Because yours are solved with money. Mine worsened with each payment. My pride shriveled a bit each time I stole for that horrid man. Aden was right. Kemp was dangerous, and he obviously wanted to command the Majesty. But he hadn’t made his move yet, which meant I had time to figure this out. I couldn’t allow Aden to make himself a pawn. Not when my secret relied so heavily on his. If Aden fell, I’d fall with him.
“Kemp may seem like a simple Messaun soldier,” I said, “but if you need to avoid anyone on this ship, it’s the gun master. We’re done here. Go help Paval in the galley. I’ll ask Dennis to put you on lookout during tonight’s watch, and then I’ll see you on deck after morning watch, eight bells. Don’t be late.” I pushed off the crate and headed for the ladder.
“Late for what?”
Now it was my turn to grin. “Training. Time for you to become a sailor.”
I woke with the sun. Like always, the first thing I saw was light streaming through the stained-glass window of the cabin door. It filtered into six different colors as it entered, grounding into colorful dust before ending abruptly at the deck. Funny how simple glass could alter light so dramatically, both igniting and destroying it at once.
Then I remembered. Ellegran. Aden. I wanted to pull the blanket over my head, but I was wide awake now.
The overstretched canvas of my hammock creaked as I swung my legs over. Thankfully, Father’s snoring continued. The sheet separating our living areas rippled quietly while I dressed. He’d offered once to build a proper wall, but the crew would wonder about that. They already thought it strange that I was here and not belowdecks with the others.
I pulled the sheet down and wrapped it around my arm, then stuffed it into the chest beneath my hammock, right on top of the coppers I’d stolen from Dryam’s boots last night. As I reached in, my fingers brushed against my father’s comb. I hadn’t touched it in weeks. He’d carried it with him the day I was dumped off on him. Probably intended to give it to Nara.
Now it was decisively, unequivocally mine.
My hand hovered for a moment, then I closed my fingers around it and lifted it to the dim light. It was a cool metal, the spine full of sparkling, star-shaped jewels. A tiny inscription along the edge read That We May Live Long Together. The teeth were smooth and tapered to a point. Its maker had designed it for a lady with soft, long hair. It was completely impractical for someone like me. Ridiculous, really. But it was all I had.
I began running it through my messy brown hair. It caught before releasing the strand, pulling it straight. The next combful of hair was tougher.
I had to start at the bottom and work my way up. It took several minutes of painful tugging to reach the point where I could comb my fingers through it unimpeded. My hair hung straight, though a bit greasy already. If only I’d had a proper bath in Hughen. Some ports even offered hair soaps made from flowers. I never used them, of course. Lye soap was far more practical.
I thought of the women I’d seen in the street, their skirts carefully pressed and hanging exactly right against their figures. The intricate braids winding about their heads must have taken several meticulous hours to create.
Father had only called Mum a lady, so I didn’t know the specifics of her wealth. But that was how I imagined her—spending hours dressing each morning, ordering servants about, snapping at beggars in the street. Why Father would fall for such a woman, I couldn’t say. But he had, and here I was.
She’d rejected all three of us, the family we could have been. If she hadn’t, I’d look just like those ladies on the street instead of an oily-haired sailor in a soiled shirt and trousers that pulled tight in all the wrong places.
Everything about my life was wrong. A sea captain, a proper lady, and a daughter dressed as a boy. Ours was a family fashioned as a joke.
I pulled my hair back into its tail like always, then tossed the comb into the box, wincing at the loud clattering that followed. Then I wrapped the axe scabbards around my waist and fastened the belt. I hadn’t been able to practice since Aden’s arrival, and my hands itched for a training session.
Before I closed the lid, I felt around for the bundle near the bottom. There, inside an old sock, was a pile of Aden’s seashell buttons and the few gold coins I’d taken for myself. I counted them again. Kemp’s next payment was due in just over a week. I didn’t have half that. If I managed to stall Kemp, and Father sent me away, perhaps I could use the money to buy passage elsewhere. Maybe KaBann, the one place I’d never been. Paval said they appreciated women there, that they sailed with men as equals. The thought should have ignited excitement, but today there was only disappointment. Leaving my father would mean leaving behind the only family I had. It would make me like her.
“Send for my breakfast, Lane,” Father croaked from across the room.
He lay in his berth, staring at the plank ceiling. The sound of heavy footsteps on the quarterdeck meant Kemp still had the watch. Dennis’s turn would begin soon, as would my duties with Aden.
“Aye, sir.” I secured the box’s lid and slid my boots on.
“Oh, one more thing.” He sat up now, rubbing his stubble thoughtfully. “That new boy. He approached me in Hughen, asking for passage to Ellegran. Did Dennis recruit him?”
“Aye,” I said, keeping my tone casual. “We were short men, so Dennis forgave his inexperience.”
“What did he call himself?”
“Aden. He didn’t give a family name.”
He frowned. “Hmm.”
I hurried to change the subject. “Any sign of Hughen ships in pursuit?”
“Nay. Even Belza’s gold wouldn’t extend that far.”
He still believed yesterday’s events were the pirate’s doing, then. I recalled his explanation to the officers yesterday and grimaced. The longer I waited to tell him about Aden, the worse his reaction would be. Especially now that the prince had made himself Kemp’s latest target.
I wanted so badly to tell my father everything. But Aden’s secret was hopelessly intertwined with mine now, and Kemp was a secret within a secret, clamped down and locked so deep I barely dared think it, let alone admit its truth aloud. It all felt like a storm gathering overhead—of which my father was completely oblivious.
“Don’t worry yourself about pirates either,” my father said, misinterpreting my silence. “Even if Belza’s men did bribe the inspectors to detain us until his arrival, I didn’t register Ellegran as our destination with the port officials. Nobody knows where we’re headed. He’ll wander the seas for weeks.”
“Well done, sir.” I forced a grin.
His smile looked just as strained. “Go on, then. You know my head won’t clear till I’ve had my drink.”
I hesitated. “We won’t be returning to Hughen anytime soon, will we?”
He sighed. “Nay. And we’ll have to be careful at all the other ports. Belza once had spies everywhere. I have to assume he’ll do the same now.”
“Wouldn’t it be safer for us to go south, then? Visit KaBann and the southern nations? Just for a year or two, until the danger calms.”
“Perhaps.”
Hope replaced the worry inside. He hadn’t mentioned leaving me in Ellegran. If there was the tiniest shred of doubt on his part, I’d have to cling to that. “Will you tell me how you know Captain Belza?”
The wall slammed down once again. “Not now. There’s work to be done.”
“Then tell me why you lied to the crew. It wasn’t all about me, and you know it. Please.”
His hard expression softened slightly. “I will never lie to you, Laney. But it doesn’t mean I have to tell you everything either. This conversation can wait until the time is right.”
I swallowed back the disappointment and stepped toward the door. “Aye, sir. I’ll fetch your breakfast.”
“Oh, and Lane—stay away from that boy Aden. There’s something off with him. He isn’t what he appears.”
I turned, examining the man I’d worshipped my entire life. He kept his gaze fixed on the deck, his chin spotted with rare stubble and his eyes clouded. I’d seen this man face down pirates with the firmness of a king, yet news of Belza had shaken him in a way that tore at my insides. Why?
I knew what Aden was. It was my own father I questioned now, and a single thought gripped my throat so tightly, it refused release.
What else aren’t you telling me, Father?
I swung the door open and stepped out into the light, leaving my question in the darkness where it belonged.
The galley was quiet as I retrieved Father’s coffee. Paval worked in silence, his back to me. Soon the next watch would be in for their breakfast. But rather than hurrying up the stairs as I ought, I hesitated. Paval was the only man who knew Father as well as I did. He’d also kept my secret since the day I stepped aboard as a child. If anybody understood my frustrations, he would.
“Why won’t Father tell me about his past?” I asked Paval.
He turned to examine me, pausing a beat too long. “What won’t he tell you?”
“Take a guess.”
A sigh. “Belza.”
I slumped against the bulkhead. “I thought we had a good relationship, but lately he’s acted so distant. Like I’m a child who can’t be trusted.”
“Well, are you?”
I scowled. “Of course not. I mean, aye, I can be trusted, but I’m no child.” I thought of Dryam’s coppers and shoved away the rising guilt. I could be trusted in some ways, perhaps, but not in others.
There was a hint of a smile on Paval’s lips. “Your friend, the new recruit? Aden. He asked quite a few questions last night.”
I groaned. Of course he had.
“It made me realize that there’s a tale I never told you,” Paval went on. “Perhaps you’d like to hear it now.”
“About Belza?”
“About how your father won the Majesty.”
I straightened so fast, I spilled coffee on my boots. The heat barely registered. “Won? He told me he bought her.”
“Did he, or did you assume?”
That took some thinking. “I don’t actually remember him saying it, but still.” I gripped the flask tighter. “You aren’t saying he stole her…?”
“Nay, course not. Everyone assumes, same as you, but nobody considers how a sailor was suddenly able to afford full share of a brig. It’s quite the adventurous tale.”
I let my shoulders relax. “Were you there?”
“Nay, but I’ve talked to men who were,” Paval began in a pleased tone. He loved telling tales. “Garrow served as first officer on the Majesty. The capta
in had a few run-ins with the law that first year. When Garrow finally confronted him about his dishonesty, his captain threatened him and tried to blackmail him into silence.”
“And?” I prompted.
Paval shrugged. “Garrow never liked being threatened. He challenged the captain to a Right of Steel duel, right there at sea.”
I nodded. It was the seafaring version of a lord’s duel. It ended when one man died. “Father won.”
“Aye. His victory came with such a flourish, the entire crew sided with him. Garrow chose not to kill the captain, though he did leave the injured man in a rowboat to fend for himself. The captain was too humiliated to challenge his first officer’s right to his own ship.”
My heart soared. Father had done all that? It sounded almost mutinous. “Who was the captain?”
“I have my suspicions, but it’s hard to say for sure. It’s like I said. I wasn’t there.”
A sick feeling entered my stomach. My own suspicion was an uncomfortable one. But I didn’t want to dwell on it. “Did you tell Aden this story?”
“Nay. Couldn’t tell a stranger something I’d never told you.” He winked. “Best get that food up to the captain before he gets grumpy.”
He was right, but I felt as if the floor had dropped beneath my boots. First the Belza thing, then Varnen, and now this. “Why didn’t Father tell me this story himself? I would have understood.”
Paval looked about the room. Several sailors had arrived, but nobody lingered close enough to hear. “What do you think of your father, Lane? You know him better than most. Is he a good man?”
I thought of how Father quietly returned his wages to his crew, allowing them to send the precious money home to their families. He frequently paid for medicine for a sick crew member or gave a positive, encouraging word to those who struggled in their training. He’d taught me to treat the crew as family. “The very best,” I said.
“What would you do if someone told you otherwise?”
“I would defend him, of course.”
