Rising Tide

XIX

15 Mirtul, the Year of the Gauntlet

"You don't have to do that."

Jherek looked up and spotted Breezerunner's ship's mage looking down at him. He hung down the side of the ship from two ropes, trussed up in a leather harness, using a barnacle spade to work on the ship's hull. "I like working with my hands," he told her.

"I couldn't think of much harder work." She waved at the hot sun blazing down over the becalmed water and added, "Or much harsher conditions."

She wore her copper colored hair short, hardly any longer than his. Her skin was browned from the sea and sun, but freckles stippled the bridge of her short nose. Her eyes were reddish brown, wide and full. She seemed friendly and liked to smile. Her mouth was generous and full-lipped, and he'd yet to see a displeased look on her face. From her position in the crew, he guessed that she was a few years older than he was. In the three days he'd been aboard Breezerunner, he'd never talked to her.

Jherek nodded. He couldn't think of much harder work either, which was why he'd chosen it. Perspiration covered him and the leather straps chaffed at him. He'd stripped down to knee-length breeches and a short-sleeved blouse. Both were drenched from the slight sea spray and sweat. Neither improved the way he smelled. "I'm not used to being a passenger."

"You're a sailor?" she asked.

"Aye." He took time to inspect the barnacle spade's edge again. He'd found that he liked looking at the ship's mage, but after the experience with the Amnians aboard Butterfly he'd taken pains not to allow himself too many glances in her direction. Still, staying in his cabin hadn't been an answer he could live with. When he'd seen the ship's crew ordered to scrape barnacles from the hull that morning he'd gone to the ship's mate, volunteered, and been grudgingly allowed. The mate had thought him deranged for even asking, even more so when he'd actually shown up for the work detail.

"Where's your ship?" she asked.

He glanced up at her, shading his eyes with his free hand as the sun came over the bow when Breezerunner dipped into the water, and said, "In Umberlee's arms." He hated telling the lie, but there was nothing else to do.

"You crewed aboard Silver Dassel!”

"Aye." The lie went against Jherek's nature. It felt like a wedge between them. He'd never forget he'd lied to her. Telling her the truth, though, was out of the question. Silver Dassel had gone down nearly a tenday ago, pulled down by a sahuagin raiding party not far from where Butterfly had been attacked.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It must have been hard."

Jherek let his silence be his only answer. Most of Silver Dassel's crew, including her captain, old Vinagir, hadn't come back. Many of the rest had scattered, trying to find new ships that would take them.

"I didn't know you were working on the hull till this afternoon when I did my inspection," she told him. "When Creil told me you'd volunteered for this and had booked a passage, I had to come see for myself."

Jherek smiled at her and shrugged. "I'm sure you've seen barnacles scraped off a hull before, lady." He studied the clean wood he'd left behind and said, "Unless I'm doing something wrong."

"Call me Sabyna. I'm no high-born to be flattered with titles."

"All right," he agreed, but the familiarity didn't feel comfortable to Jherek.

"The job you're doing," Sabyna said, "is probably better than any of the crew that Creil put together." She passed down a capped jar full of water at the end of a net pole.

"Thank you, lady." He drank the water, tasting the cool clean of it, then sent the jar back up.

She leaned her elbows on the railing and gazed down at him. She wore a long-sleeved dark green blouse tucked into loose-legged white breeches that showed off her womanly figure, and knee-high black leather boots that matched the wide black leather belt that supported a small bag and a brace of throwing knives.

"There's more work to be done about this ship if you've a mind," she said.

"Aye. I'd like that very much."

"Captain Tynnel says you're bound for Baldur's Gate."

"Aye."

"Hoping to find another ship there?"

"If I can."

She raised an eyebrow. "Impress the captain during the rest of the journey as you already have, maybe you'll find a berth here by the time you reach Baldur's Gate."

Jherek nodded. He didn't think a berth on Breezerunner had been what Madame litaar had in mind, but he felt stubborn about what he was supposed to do. Live, that you may serve. Perhaps he could do that best aboard Breezerunner. It felt good to think about.

"I've been ship's mage aboard Breezerunner for five years," she told him. "I've got some influence of my own."

Jherek didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't.

"I've also taken the liberty to talk to the captain on your behalf regarding the work you're doing on Breezerunner. Keep working and you'll be compensated. It won't be a full hand's pay-our budget won't allow it-but you should see a good return on your booking passage."

"You don't have to do that, lady."

"Sabyna."

She remained quiet, waiting till he looked her in the eye.

"Sabyna," he repeated.

"I've also noticed that you usually take a meal to your cabin and eat by yourself."

"Aye. You seem to be quite observant, la-Sabyna." Jherek felt a little irritated with her attention. He hadn't noticed that she'd been observing him, and it unnerved him to think that she might be watching him so closely.

"I'm ship's mage," she stated simply. "It's my responsibility to keep Breezerunner seaworthy and in good repair. I also log our charts for navigational purposes, check up on our pilot, and keep track of where everything is on this ship. I've developed a good eye for detail and I'm not easily distracted."

"You sound like you're very good at what you do."

"Thank you. I am."

Despite the unease he felt, Jherek had to smile at the confidence the woman projected.

"You're laughing at me?" she asked.

"No, lady."

"Sabyna."

"Aye."

"You are laughing."

Amazed at the lightness in his heart in spite of the depression that had clung to him over the past three days, Jherek looked up at her again. "Maybe a little."

Her thin brows arched over her eyes. "Over these next few days if you stay interested in helping out with ship's chores, you'll find out exactly how good I am."

"I look forward to the challenge."

"That's good, but for the moment, I'd be interested in knowing whether you'd look forward to having evening-feast with me tonight, as part of your repayment for the work you're doing."

The offer took Jherek totally by surprise. He swung along at Breezerunner's side as she cut through the nearly flat waves, feeling more at home hanging from the ropes than in dealing with the ship's mage's question.

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

"No."

"I don't think you're in a position to tell me that you've got a previous engagement," Sabyna said. "I'm not one to tolerate lying."

Her words stung Jherek, knowing he'd lied to her already and there was no way to take it back.

"So if you tell me anything other than yes, or that you'd rather not dine with me, I'd be inclined to cut these ropes and see how long you can float." She sounded gruffly threatening, but merriment lighted her eyes.

Jherek felt the pressure close in around him. The recent experience with the Amnians burned in his mind. Yiell's selfish and temporary interest in him had changed his whole life. He didn't want to think something else bad was going to happen, but it wouldn't have surprised him. A polite refusal was on his tongue when it betrayed him. He glanced up at the ship's mage and said, "Aye."

"Good," she exclaimed. "I'll come around to your cabin this eve and collect you."

He nodded, feeling like a boulder had lodged at the back of his throat and he just couldn't swallow it. His stomach turned flips.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Malorrie," he replied, choosing the phantom's name because it was seldom heard and he knew he'd always react to it, but it was another lie between them. It seemed he couldn't stop telling them.

"I've got a further warning then, Malorrie."

He shaded his eyes as he looked up at her, wondering if she'd be able to see the lie in his gaze.

"I cook my own meals, and I like exotic, spicy dishes. We may find out how strong your stomach is."

She smiled at him, then she was gone and Jherek found himself even more drenched in sweat than he'd been before. He forced himself to concentrate on the job at hand and not dwell on the things that might go wrong that evening.

Back on deck with the sun setting out in the Sea of Swords, looking like a molten gold ball settling into the flat azure of the ocean, Jherek waited his turn in line at the community water barrel bolted into the railing. The man in front of him took out a large dipperful of fresh water and poured it over his own head, washing away some of the accumulated dried salt that had come from the sea breeze.

The men in line behind Jherek complained, some of them loudly.

Jherek didn't blame them. Fresh water when a ship got becalmed was worth its weight in gold. It wasn't meant to be wasted on a voyage.

The man took another dipperful and splashed it over his head again, ignoring the complaints. He was a big man, broad shouldered and heavy bellied, easily weighing a hundred pounds more than Jherek. He had shaggy black hair that fell below his shoulders, a full beard that reached to his chest, and enough body hair to make him look even more like an ape. Small daggers as long as a finger hung from earrings in both ears. He wore a cutlass in a sash and had two fingers missing from his left hand.

"Damn it, Aysel," someone growled, "back away from the water and stop wasting it."

Aysel muttered a curse and tossed the dipper back into the barrel. He ran his thick fingers through his wet hair and walked to the side.

Jherek took the small cloth from his kit, wet it in the barrel, then wrung it out and stepped away. Working carefully to conserve the water in the cloth, he washed the salt from his face, then worked on the rest of his body that had been exposed to the spray.

"You pay attention, Aysel," a harsh voice used to command barked.

Drawn to the voice, Jherek looked up to the forecastle. Captain Tynnel stood there, arms crossed over his chest. He was a short man of small stature, but Jherek had heard nothing but good of the man while he'd been aboard. His hair was the bleached blond of old bone and he had a hatchet head for a face beneath his plumed, tri-corner hat. His piercing blue eyes belonged on a falcon. He pointed at Jherek and said, "There's a man knows how to treasure water. I don't see you having some of that same respect, you're going to be a long time between ships when we reach Baldur's Gate. Understand my drift, sailor?"

"Aye, sir," Aysel responded with a clenched jaw. He shot Jherek a murderous glare then stomped off. Several of the sailors called out jeers behind his back.

"You," the captain said, pointing his bony chin at Jherek, "boy."

"Aye, sir."

"Come up. I'd have a word with you if I might."

"Aye, sir." Nervous, Jherek ascended the narrow stairs leading up to the forecastle.

"There's nothing to be worried about, boy," the captain said when Jherek stood before him. "Just wanted a word with you."

"Aye, sir."

"Sabyna's mentioned you to me today, the work you'd done, and the fact that she'd like to give you more of it till we reach Baldur's Gate. That would be acceptable to you?" "Aye, sir."

"I'll return some of the money you paid for your passage, but I won't be able to return it all. I've got a profit to make, investors to keep happy." "I understand, sir."

"I thought you might. Did she mention you might be able to find a berth on Breezerunner when we got to Baldur's Gate?" "Aye, sir."

"I guessed that she might. I told her I wanted to tell you myself. She's always been headstrong." Tynnel narrowed his eyes. "Where're you having eveningfeast tonight, boy?"

"With the lady, sir." "Lady?"

"Ship's Mage Sabyna, sir."

"I must admit, that doesn't entirely surprise me either. That girl's got a good head on her shoulders, but she's impulsive too. Makes her damn good at her job. Most of the time."

Jherek remained quiet, not knowing where the conversation was headed. A captain had the right to question his crew's behavior aboard ship.

"She comes from good stock," the captain said. "Her father's a ship's mage, and one of her brothers. Another's a ranger in the Moonshaes, all of them good people." He took out a pipe and filled it with pipeweed, then lit it with considerable effort. "She's been crewing aboard Breezerunner for a few years. When her da let her come take this post, I gave him my word I'd see nothing come to harm her. I stand by my word." He looked up at Jherek through the haze of smoke. "In all those years, she's had only a few other men to eveningfeast. She shows a lot of discretion."

The revelation didn't surprise Jherek, but it did turn him a little cold wondering what the statement implied.

"Those men I knew," the captain went on. "I can't say that I always approved, but I did know them. I don't know you at all."

"I can cancel on her invitation," Jherek offered.

In fact, he thought it would take some pressure off if he was told not to go. He hadn't been able to turn the invitation down on his own. It wouldn't have been the right thing to do, especially to a lady.

The captain looked at him in disbelief. "You'd cancel eveningfeast with Sabyna on my say so?"

"Aye, sir. I'm just looking for passage to Baldur's Gate. I wouldn't want to cause any trouble."

Shaking his head, the captain laughed slightly. "Every manjack aboard this ship has tried to get close to her and she won't have any of them, and you were asked by her."

Jherek didn't see what that had to do with anything so he kept quiet.

"No," the captain said. "You go on to eveningfeast and have a good time, but I won't suffer to see that young woman hurt in any way."

"No, sir. Not by me."

"Prepare yourself for a treat. Sabyna is a good cook."

Dismissed, Jherek walked away, but he couldn't help wondering how the captain knew.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"Water, please," Jherek replied, fidgeting.

"I've got a meager selection of wines," Sabyna offered.

"Water will be fine."

He stood just inside her doorway and gazed around at the tiny room that was her personal quarters. A small bookshelf covered one wall, filled with tomes and knickknacks that he felt were more personal items than magical ones. A miniature fold-out desk was built into another wall and pigeonholes held correspondence, files, and paper. At the moment, the desk doubled as a dining table. The chair was on one side of it instead of in front of it, and the bed was within reach of the desk on the other.

"Water it is. Have a seat," Sabyna invited.

She worked over a large food tray sitting on the floor. Dressed in breeches and a sleeveless yellow blouse, she looked more feminine than ever, and she smelled of lilacs.

Jherek took one look at the neatly made bed and felt as out of place as he'd ever felt before. He wore a long sleeved shirt to hide the tattoo, and his best breeches.

"Thanks," he said, and took the chair.

"Do you like spicy food?" she asked, removing covers from dishes on a tray she'd brought from the galley.

"Aye," he answered politely.

Food was food, and it got a man from one meal to the next. Madame litaar's dishes, made from the vegetables and fruits from her garden, had always been particularly pleasant, though.

"I got some of these recipes from another ship's mage who'd traveled to Maztica. Spices are part of the prime ingredients to any meal prepared there, she told me."

"It smells good."

"Thank you." Sabyna served out, putting portions of the different dishes onto plates and placing the plates on the desk. "Have you ever had Maztican food?"

"No."

"Then be careful."

Tense because of the closeness forced by the size of the room, Jherek followed her lead, taking a flat, thin piece of bread and mixing some of the vegetables she'd prepared with a cheese concoction. He wrapped it all in the bread then ate. He was surprised at how hot it was, but after the curry Hagagne and some of the others used aboard Butterfly he found it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. A sailor's palate wasn't a cultured thing, but it was sturdy enough.

"I saw the captain speaking to you."

"Aye."

"Did he warn you about me?"

Jherek worked at building another bread sandwich out of the ingredients, adding the spiced chicken chunks as well, and said, "Aye."

"There's not much I miss on this ship," Sabyna said. "I can't afford to and do a good job." She picked at her food. "So what did he tell you?"

'To watch my manners around you," Jherek said honestly. "To keep in mind that you're a lady and to treat you as such."

"As if I would allow myself to be treated any other way." Her voice carried a strain of sarcasm and anger. "If he hadn't sailed with my father, I'd not put up with his interference. Overly long noses are never welcome."

"He cares about you," Jherek pointed out. "That's not necessarily a bad thing."

She regarded him in silence for a moment. "I can look out for myself."

"Aye. I understand. I think the captain just wanted to remind me that others were looking on as well." Jherek continued eating slowly, matching her pace and her movements. Thankfully, his hunger overpowered his feeling of ill ease and she proved to have as big an appetite as he did.

Her conversation drifted, and she skillfully probed his background. He replied to her questions and to the broad statements she made, but kept his answers brief without seeming to be secretive. For the most part, he told her the truth, just not all of it.

His concerns never went away, but he found himself enchanted with her company. Loquacious as she was and as taciturn as he remained, she told a number of stories. After dinner was finished and he'd helped her put the utensils away, she took a flask of spring water she said came from Icewind Dale and guided him back up to the main deck.

Jherek thought briefly of claiming to be tired, but he knew it would have been another lie to add to those he'd already told. He'd also found he enjoyed the ship's mage's company. The last three days of being alone in a group of strangers with his future so uncertain had been hard. When he was with her, he found he didn't worry about the future quite so much.

Sabyna, daughter of Siann Truesail, sat on the prow of Breezerunner only a little later, within easy speaking distance of the young sailor who'd so caught her attention. She watched him as he sat cross-legged and gazed out at the sea, surprised at how comfortable she felt with him.

Still, he remained an enigma, and her wizard's mind constantly pried at the why and how of things, not tolerating mysteries of any kind. Exactly what the young sailor who called himself Malorrie represented, she wasn't sure, but she knew he'd lied at least about his name.

She'd used a light spell to read his surface thoughts when she'd talked to him earlier in the day and had gleaned that. The spell wasn't something she was especially proud of, but as ship's mage, information meant profit and often survival for the ship and crew. However, there was no indication that he meant Breezerunner or her crew any harm.

He watched the star-spattered sky overhead, rocking easily with the ship's motion. The prow lifted and descended across the rolling waves, and the rigging creaked as it was pushed along by the prevailing winds.

"You love the sea, don't you?" she asked, knowing it was true even before her spell confirmed it.

"Aye," he answered without hesitation. "I can't imagine having a life without it."

From his tone and from what she was able to pick up from his thoughts with her magic, she got the impression he was feeling pressure to make some kind of decision. "How long have you been at sea?"

"All my life, lady. I was born at sea."

That was unusual in these days, Sabyna knew. A good midwife could tell when a babe had dropped into position to be born, and women didn't take to sea at that time unless the need was great.

As if realizing he'd told too much, the young sailor said, "I was born almost a month premature, on a long voyage in harsh seas. Luckily, I survived it."

"What about your mother?"

He shook his head, his eyes picking up pale fire from the gibbous moon. "I lost her."

"I'm sorry."

"Aye."

"I was raised on a ship myself. My father's a ship's mage."

"So the captain said."

That irked Sabyna. Her business was her own. As she thought that, she felt a twinge of guilt for trying to pursue the young sailor's secrets herself.

"Tynnel was being awfully generous with his information," she said. "That's not like him."

The young sailor shrugged. Sabyna noted the dark circles under his eyes and felt bad for keeping him up so late when he'd obviously been worn out by his previous journey. She knew that wasn't right. He looked healthy, not worn down, so whatever strain he was under was mental, not physical.

Still, she wasn't ready to part company with him yet. "My mother kept after my three brothers and me to study our lessons," she told him. "When we were young, we looked on ship's chores as great fun. It wasn't until we were older that we learned we were supposed to resent work like that."

He laughed and she decided she liked the sound of it. His laugh was low and gentle, like it was something he wasn't used to doing.

"In ports where we traded, some folk made comment that a ship was a small place for children to grow up- dangerous even-but we had the sea, wide and deep and beautiful, filled with wondrous things, and no reason to fear it or anything in it till my brother Dannin was killed in a pirate raid fourteen years ago."

He nodded, suddenly somber for no reason that she could explain.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said.

Despite all the years that had passed, Dannin's death still hurt. Tears brimmed in her eyes, feeling hot against the cool breeze drifting in from the sea. She got angry at herself momentarily for the loss of control, but there was something about the young sailor that reminded her of her lost brother. Dannin had barely been sixteen, younger than either of them now. She remembered and missed her brother's smile most of all. Dannin was always the most easygoing of her siblings.

The look in Jherek's pale eyes suggested that he wanted to say more but he didn't.

Sabyna sensed that whatever stilled his tongue was wrapped up in one of the secrets he kept to himself. "Besides scraping barnacles," she asked him, "what else can you do?"

"I've worked for a shipwright and built ships from the ground up, from dry dock to harbor."

"I've got a list of repairs I'd like made over the next few days," she told him. If he accepted, she knew she'd be seeing more of him, and maybe she'd get a solution to the enigma he presented. At the very least, he made enjoyable company. "Most of them are only cosmetic, but I'd like them completed. We've only got a couple men who're decent carpenters. If you've got skill, maybe I can get Tynnel to pay some extra wages."

"I'd be happy to look at the repairs, and whatever you can pay would be fine."

He looked like he was about to say something else, but his eyes cut away from hers.

"It could be Tynnel's offered purse would be so small that I'll have to supplement your pay with meals." Part of Sabyna cringed when she was so bold as to say that. She knew her mother wouldn't have approved at all.

"I'd enjoy that."

She gazed out at the horizon, where the wine-dark sky descended and touched the flat surface of the Sea of Swords. "So what is it that draws you to the sea?"

"I don't know, lady," he answered politely, "but I do know that I've felt the pull of it every day of my life."

"Would you like me to foretell your future?" she asked.

He paused, as if weighing the risk, then said simply, "Aye."

"Give me your hand."

Hesitantly, he offered it.

She took his hand in hers and studied it in the pale moonlight. It felt rough and hard, a working man's hand. A few scars from fish knives, nets, and other sharp instruments crisscrossed the natural lines in his palm, making it confusing in the shadows.

"Wait here. I'll need more light."

"If this is going to be trouble for you, I'd rather not."

"It's no trouble," Sabyna said.

He gave her a short nod, but clearly didn't look happy about the extra effort.

She pushed herself up and walked to the railing to get one of the spare lanterns tucked away there. She lit it from the one already burning a few feet away, and returned. She concentrated on his palm, trying to divine what she could of him and the possible futures that waited on him. The divination she attempted wasn't part of a spell, but was based on simple teaching about the lines on the palm. At least it was an excuse to speculate and talk about those speculations.

"You have a long life line," she said, reading the automatic signs, "but there are breaks in it, indicating a change in location or your view of the world." She felt him try to pull the hand away, but maintained her hold. "The breaks in your heart line show that you've had disappointments in your life."

Without warning, a jolt of electricity sizzled through her mind. Her vision glazed over, suddenly filled with the sight of a great sea battle involving dozens of ships. She stood on a deck, and the vision was so strong that she felt the movement of the ocean. She smelled blood and the salt of the sea, different in some regard from the Sea of Swords.

She looked around in the vision, knowing she was seeing it from the young sailor's eyes, but not knowing how it came to be since none of her magic would enable her to do this. Whatever the source, it came from outside her and forced her to see. The ship rocked suddenly and she turned in the direction the force had come from in time to see a boarding party swinging aboard the ship.

A tall man with wild black hair and fiery brown eyes dropped onto the deck before her. A short, thrusting goatee and mustache covered his cruelly handsome face. He was dressed in black, tight breeches tucked into buccaneer's boots and a black shirt with belled sleeves left open to reveal the tattoo of the flaming skull wearing a chain mask that left only the eyes and fanged mouth uncovered. Another tattoo on his left cheek showed a shark-like creature with a black haired mane twisted in mid-strike.

Selune help her, she recognized the man at once, and she prayed him dead in the same instant.

The man attacked at once, and she wielded her sword to parry the heavy-bladed falchion he swung. Afternoon sunlight glinted from the blades. He drew back immediately, setting himself to swing again.

The vision was rudely interrupted and Sabyna's senses returned to her own body, to her own time. The young sailor held her, steadying her as another shudder passed through Breezerunner, shaking the whole ship as the dulled thud of impact echoed up through the hold.

"We've run aground," the young sailor said, helping her to her feet in spite of the way the ship jerked and tossed. "We'll be lucky if we haven't torn the bottom out of her!"