Meeting the Storm
A message from Captain Tergus came to Selena at the Wayfarer Inn that morning, written in immaculate, precise script, that one of the captain’s crew would meet her at the east quay. The note said she would know the sailor by “the distinct expression of dismay on his hoary old face when he realizes I wasn’t lying about sharing a skiff with a dragonman and a sirrak.”
The storm had passed on and the docks were bustling. Flocks of screeching gulls wheeled above, while dozens more perched on posts, muttering and preening and staining the wood white with their droppings. The air was heavy with fish scents, as vendors hawked skewers of crabmeat and boiled bowls of lobscouse stew over portable cauldrons.
The vendors fell silent as Selena passed with Ilior flanking her and Svoz bringing up the rear. The sirrak had taken the guise of a sailor that, at a distance, seemed common enough until one saw his colorless eyes, pale skin, and black fingernails, to say nothing of his weapon. He had told her that if he were forced to wear the “weak meat suit of a human” he must be permitted to at least carry a weapon of real menace. And so the sirrak wore a humongous cudgel far too huge for his human size slung over his shoulder.
The crewman Captain Tergus sent was a grizzled old sea dog with a white beard and a well-worn coat and cap. As Julian promised, the man’s eyes widened under bushy brows to see the Vai’Ensai. At Svoz, the crewman made the sign of the full moon over his heart and grunted. He grunted again as he nodded his head at the skiff that was to convey them to the ship, and grunted yet again that Ilior needed to take up an oar. It soon became apparent that grunting was the only sound the old man was capable of making. But for Svoz’s periodic grousing about the sun that had broken through the clouds, the skiff set off in silence.
As they rowed across the bay, Selena saw that many other captains were of the same mind as Captain Tergus: more ships bobbed anchor in the bay than were docked at Port Sylk, each manned by wary crew who gave Selena and her companions dirty stares from their decks, and kept their flintlocks in plain view. Most of the ships they passed were merchant vessels, judging by their standards, though many ship’s captains were more cautious and flew no standard of any kind. Others were proudly pirate vessels, flying flags depicting skulls, cutlasses, dripping blood, and any other manner of intimidating motifs that designated one ship or another as a member of a collective. In the northeast, Selena saw a quartet of ships bearing the insignia of a burning flame, like the one Julian revealed on Mallen’s arm.
At last, the skiff fell into the shadow of Julian’s brig. A rope ladder came down and Selena climbed up. Captain Tergus was there, waiting to help her up. She took his hand—his left, she noticed, as he was favoring his right arm slightly— and he offered a faint smile that was ruined by the bloody gash creeping into his hairline.
“Are you all right?” Selena asked. “Gods, what happened?”
“Press gang tried to recruit me.” He smiled darkly. “They failed.”
“What? When?”
“Last night, after you departed.” He waved aside her concern. “There were only three, each a bigger fool than the last.” He jerked his chin at Svoz in his sailor form. “The sirrak?”
Selena blinked. “Uh, yes. This is Svoz. Svoz, this is Captain Julian Tergus.”
“A pleasure,” Svoz said. His pale eyes studied the captain. His laugh sounded as though it came from the Deeps. “A genuine pleasure.”
“And I don’t believe you were formally introduced to Ilior oth’Makir,” Selena said before Svoz could make things more awkward. “Ilior, Captain Tergus.”
But that introduction was almost worse. Neither Ilior nor Julian offered a hand; the Vai’Ensai nodded coolly at the captain, and a silence fell amongst them that was especially acute since the crewmen on deck and up on the yards made no sound either.
“Shall we?” Julian said finally.
“Your arm looks pained,” Selena said. “I can heal you…”
“I’ve had worse. Do you want to see the ship or not?”
He didn’t wait for a reply but started around the main deck.
It was immediately apparent to Selena that the Black Storm was Julian’s pride and joy. The hull was unmarred, the decks immaculate, the rigging all neatly coiled. She glanced up at the sails furled tight to the yards and the small crow’s nest atop the main mast. A simple ship, she thought, but already I like her. I like her more than her captain.
Julian moved to muster his crew before he took her belowdecks, and Selena pulled Ilior aside.
“What do you think of him?” Selena nodded to where Julian Tergus sauntered to the edge of the main deck, put his fingers to his lips and let loose a piercing whistle. The morning wind whipped at his black long coat and he cut a dark, slender figure in the gray light. The gash on his face gave him a sinister mien.
Ilior’s words ground together like stones. “My opinion of him from last night remains unchanged. I don’t like him.”
“I told you, he was not responsible for my injuries,” Selena said. “He killed Mallen.”
“After he watched you fight off three pirates first. You had Mallen defeated when Tergus sliced his throat open.” Ilior shook his horned head. “I don’t like him.”
Selena sighed. “You said that already.” She watched Julian muster his crew. “He’s young for a captain. Perhaps thirty years? But he looks as though he were born on board.” She was trying to be light but Ilior was immovable as stone.
“Someone attacked him last night,” the Vai’Ensai said. “Perhaps they were men of Mallen’s crew.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.
“Or perhaps it was a press gang as he said. Press gangs are a common sight on many islands. Especially Uago.” She sighed. “But I will admit it’s an inauspicious start to this voyage.”
“You’ve paid him nothing,” the Vai’Ensai reminded her.
“There’s no one else, Ilior. You know that. And I can’t delay this mission another minute. Captain Tergus is the best we can hope for from Isle Uago.”
Ilior nodded once. “I understand. But if the captain is revealed to be a scoundrel or criminal, I’ll tear him apart.”
“You’re beginning to sound like Svoz.”
Ilior grunted. “In matters of your protection, the sirrak and I are in accord.”
Selena smiled fondly at her friend, and then the captain was addressing them.
“This is my crew,” Captain Tergus said, as the six men lined up. They were all dressed in the same salt-and-wind-worn garb, with bare feet and sun-burnt skin; the eldest appeared in his fifties, the youngest hardly more than a boy.
“You’ve met Grunt.” The old salt who had taken them across the bay nodded his head. “The rest are Spit, Cur, Helm, Cook, and Whistle. They don’t say much, but they’re as good a bunch of sailors as you could want.”
“They haven’t proper names?” Ilior asked.
“I suppose they do.”
“You’ve never asked?”
Selena laid her hand on her friend’s arm. “Ilior…”
Julian cocked a brow. “Are you questioning how I do things on my ship?”
Ilior crossed his arms over his massive chest and shrugged.
The captain laughed. “Tell him your names, men. Make a proper introduction.”
Grunt grunted, Cur growled like a feral dog, Spit spat, and Whistle whistled. The crewmen named Helm and Cook snickered soundlessly.
“I don’t know their real names because they can’t tell me, nor can they read or write,” Julian said. “I hire men who’re either mute, like in the case of young Whistle here—” he tousled the boy’s hair— “or have had their tongues cut out, as have the rest of these fine fellows.”
Ilior’s hands clenched into fists. “You cut out their tongues?”
Captain Tergus regarded him, incredulous. “Did I say that? I hire men who’ve met that particular misfortune. And not many captains would. I’m doing them a favor by employing them where others won’t. Isn’t that sweet of me, dragonman?”
“But why?” Selena asked.
“You’d be amazed at how much more productive a crew is when they can’t stand around jawing all day. If you’re used to shanties sung every damn minute of every voyage, the silence will seem strange at first, but you get used to it. You’ll be able to appreciate the quiet,” he said, “and just sail.”
Selena glanced at the six mute men. They looked no different from any other crew on any other ship she’d ever been on. But they can’t speak, can’t sing shanties…and they can’t tell what they’ve seen on board.
“Have a question?” Julian asked, and Selena realized she had been silent too long.
“I was wondering, Captain, how it’s possible to give and receive orders to a crew that can’t speak. And aren’t you a bit short-handed?”
“Ilior and Svoz can pitch in,” Julian said. “No one stands around idle on my ship.”
Svoz, who had been roaming the decks, slipped up to join them when he heard his name. He waggled a black-nailed finger at Julian. “If you think I’m going to spend the voyage pulling on ropes and tying knots like some common—”
“You will,” Selena said, “because I command it. You will do whatever Captain Tergus requires.”
“I won’t ask you to do anything that is beneath you,” Julian told the sirrak.
“Everything that is not extermination is beneath me.”
“Lovely.” Julian clapped his hands together. “That should do it. The watches will be long but the voyage to Saliz is not. The Storm won’t give trouble if we all pull together.” Julian turned to Selena. “Care to see your lodgings?”
Selena left Svoz on deck while she and Ilior followed Julian to the galley with its big iron stove and water barrels, and the forecastle where eight hammocks were strung up.
“When you’re not on watch,” he told Ilior.
The Vai’Ensai frowned. “How far am I from Paladin Koren’s lodgings?”
Julian gave them both a peculiar look. “This is a brig, not a Guild barge. We’re all within hailing distance. But, don’t take my word for it.”
He led them through a passage so narrow, Ilior had to fold his wing in tight and duck his head. The cabin was small, six spans long and three across, but it had cots instead of hammocks, one to a side, and a trunk to stow belongings. There was no porthole as it was amidships, but Selena thought it more than adequate.
“It’s very fine.” Selena noted that while the bunks were spare and plain, they also looked clean, like everything else on Julian’s ship.
“My cabin’s under the quarterdeck,” Julian said, “but there is no reason anyone aboard needs to be anywhere near it unless invited, yes? And you,” he said to Selena, “are invited to plot our course and discuss the financial particulars. After provisions are bought and stowed, we sail. Tomorrow.” His gray-green eyes looked between Selena and Ilior.
“He stays with me,” Selena said, answering his unspoken question. “He’s a better sailor than I, and I rely on his judgment in all things.”
The smallest of shadows crept over the captain’s face. “Very well. It’ll be a bit cramped, but if you insist.”
“I do,” Ilior intoned.
Julian led them back up to the main deck, to his cabin, which was situated beneath the quarterdeck. It was twice the size of Selena’s cabin, and three large, slanted gallery windows afforded an expansive view of the Marauder’s Sea spread out before them and the sun hovering above the horizon.
The port wall of the cabin had several trunks lashed to it and was covered itself in an old, beautiful chart of Lunos. At the starboard wall was a bunk, wider than those in her cabin, but it was the captain’s desk that commanded attention. Two merkind, carved in intricate detail, met at the front of the cherry wood piece, their hair flowing and tangling together. Long ropes of finely wrought sea kelp climbed up each leg.
On top of the desk were several charts, an inkpot, a ledger book, and some drawings. When Selena drew nearer, she saw the drawings were schematics of ships, highly detailed and drawn with great precision. That Julian possessed the skill to create something so fine surprised her.
People are multi-faceted like jewels, she told herself, not plain and flat like steel.
Julian saw her eyeing the sketches and hurriedly laid a chart of the Heart Waters and most of the Eastern Edge on top of them. He unlashed a small stool for Selena to sit on while he took the chair behind the desk.
“I will stand,” Ilior said.
“As you will.” Julian turned the chart around so that Selena might read it. “As I told you last night, I believe we should take a more northerly route, out of these pirate waters.” He folded his hands. “But that is unsatisfactory?”
Selena nodded. “How far south can we sail?”
“Safely?” Julian frowned over the chart. “The pirate collectives here sail the Marauders’ Sea in droves. Given the situation with pirates who attacked you last night, we’ll be lucky to get out of here without a tail.”
“You killed a captain,” Ilior intoned.
“And she let the sole witness go free,” Julian returned. “Mine wasn’t the lapse in caution.” He turned back to Selena. “To sail farther south, into the Heart Waters, is to invite the wrath of the merkind. I’d rather take my chances with pirates, who I can outrun, rather than a merkind’s maelstrom, which I can’t. Of course, I’d much prefer avoiding both and sailing north along the Ice Isles.”
“It’s not possible,” Ilior said. “For her sake.”
“Nor for yours,” Selena told her friend. She looked at Julian. “I don’t want to risk your ship or the lives of you and your crew but this whole endeavor will be moot if we freeze to death. Is there no other passage that we can take?”
“Not unless you wish to sail south along the boundary between the Western Watch and the Heart Waters, then tack east past your homeland,” he said with a nod at Ilior, “and lastly sail north through the entire Eastern Edge.”
“No,” Ilior said. “No,” he said again, softer. “That route will take half a year or more. The Bazira trail will be long gone by then.”
“Of course it will,” Julian said, studying the chart.
Selena bit her lip. He’s going to change his mind about this and we’ll be stuck all over again.
But Julian said, “Well, business has been slow as of late and I’m not one to turn down real gold. We’ll sail as south as we dare and take our chances. My Storm can outrun the pirates, I’m sure of that.”
Selena eased a sigh. “Thank you.” She rose to go but the captain halted her.
“Speaking of gold, there is one last matter. My fee. And for this discussion, I prefer privacy. In fact, I insist on it.” He smiled thinly at Ilior.
Ilior hesitated. Selena gave him a reassuring nod and he strode out of the cabin. She was sure he took up position outside the door, just as he had on Jarabax’s ship.
Julian shook out of his long black coat. Beneath he wore a white linen shirt, loosely tied at the collar. Patches of blood darkened his right shoulder. He reached behind him, wincing, for a bottle of wine and a glass.
“Would you care for some? I broke my other glass during a bad storm and now have only one.” He cocked a smile. “But we can share.”
“I don’t drink,” Selena said stiffly.
“Neither do I,” Julian said, taking a sip. “When we’re under sail, I mean. And I prefer to discuss business with the person I am conducting it with. I hope your dragonman takes no offense.”
“The term is Vai’Ensai,” Selena said crossly. “If we’re to sail with you, it’s important that you not insult Ilior with the slur.”
“Very well. I can understand him not appreciating the term, nor its connotations. But why do you care?” Julian asked.
Selena gave a short, confused laugh. “Because he’s my friend?”
“Your friend is waiting for you outside my cabin door, isn’t he? Aye, I’d wager the Storm on it. Your friend won’t let you out of his sight for more than a few moments, as if you were a helpless maid and not a Paladin trained in swordcraft and the gods’ know what other kind of magic. Is he your bodyguard? Does he owe you a life debt?”
Selena sat back in her chair. “I don’t see how it’s of your concern.”
“Everything that happens on my ship is of my concern.” Julian raised an eyebrow. “Are you two…?”
“I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” Selena said, a sour taste in her mouth. “He is my friend. That means he cares for my well-being and I for his. I hardly need explain that concept, do I?”
“Dragonmen—pardon, Vai’Ensai—are rarely seen outside the Cloud Isles,” Julian said. “You’re telling me friendship alone keeps him from his homeland? Come to mention it, he didn’t seem too keen on sailing anywhere near the Cloud Isles as we plotted our course.” Julian waved his hand. “It’s strange; you, him, the whole of it.”
“It’s not strange.” Selena said and stopped, wondering if others shared Captain Tergus’s insinuations, perhaps at the Moon Temple. She felt the tingle that meant hot blood rushed to her cheeks. Anger dispelled the shame, and she shook her head. “It is unfortunate our friendship is subject to such base notions.”
“Maybe if you weren’t so secretive about it…”
“I don’t speak of Ilior’s private matters to strangers.”
“In the absence of fact, people fill in their own truth,” the captain said. Another harsh laugh erupted out of him. “Oh, do they ever.” He sipped his wine.
“Very well,” Selena said irritably. “I will tell you only because the merits outweigh the dishonor that rumors would place on him.”
Julian held up his hands. “My crew is mute. It’s just me.”
“Aye, you,” Selena said, “who has the olive coloring and dark hair of the Farendii.”
He said nothing but the smug grin had slipped off his face.
“The Zak’reth were at the height of their power, brutalizing those lands ruthlessly,” Selena said, gentling her tone. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this.”
“No,” Julian said. “You don’t.”
“And I don’t wish to cause you pain, truly. But it’s important you know that Ilior fought bravely for the Farendus Isles and that’s where I found him. On a desolate beach, surrounded by three Zak’reth warriors. I came in time to see them hack off his wing with their burning blades.”
Selena closed her eyes as the memory swamped her with its ugly brutality. When she opened them, Julian was watching her with that absolutely blank expression that masked any hint of emotion.
“I killed the Zak’reth before they could harm him further,” Selena said. “For that, Ilior has pledged his life to me, to protect me, to stay with me always. He was with me at Isle Calinda when I summoned the sea, and after, when the wound’s first agony had me. For ten years he’s remained by my side, loyal to me even in those early years when the torture of it became too much and I…behaved recklessly.”
Julian’s expression remained blank. “And he’s never been back to the Cloud Isles? I had heard that some Vai’Ensai had fought in the war, but then returned at once to their homeland. They’re not exactly welcome elsewhere.”
“The prejudice they face for the actions of their distant ancestors is a farce.”
Julian shrugged, his expression loosening. “The dragons caused the Breaking. That’s not an easy thing to forgive, even three thousand years later.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Selena snapped. “Ilior is no more responsible for the Breaking than I am responsible for my grandfather’s deeds.” She smoothed down the folds of her blue overtunic until she was calmer. “Ilior may not return to the Cloud Isles. He says the loss of his wing makes him a cripple in the eyes of the tribes. He’s considered too weak to retake his place among them to protect the homeland. That’s a disgrace I don’t understand, but nonetheless, I am grateful that he is with me. More than that, I owe him my life. I may have saved him from the Zak’reth once, but he has saved me from the wound countless times.”
“A life debt then, as I said.”
“Will that suffice, Captain? He is owed respect, not…ugly insinuations, or—”
The captain held up his hands in surrender. “I understand. He guards you from bodily harm but is not your bodyguard. Fair enough. May we speak of my fee now?”
Selena fought to keep her irritation from mounting further. There’s no one else, she reminded herself. It’s either this captain, or we return to Lillomet.
“My offer is standard,” she said. “Three hundred gold doubloons; half now, half after I…after I kill Accora. And if we learn where Bacchus is and you take me to him, we shall renegotiate.”
“That’s all very well and good, if you kill Accora. If you get killed, what happens to the other half of my fee?”
“I have a promissory note from the Moon Temple,” Selena said. “Should anything befall me, you can find it among my possessions. Failing that, the Moon Temple has a copy and you may collect from them.” She rose to her feet. “Fear not, Captain, you’ll get your gold.”
“I should hope so,” Julian barked a laugh that faded immediately. “Except that I don’t sail to Lillomet. Or Parish, or Killomede, or Sevren. Not ever, so don’t ask.”
Selena resumed her seat. “I was expecting to return to Isle Lillomet upon completion of my quest.”
“Not my problem. I’ll bring you back here. Or to Isle Kabak, if you prefer desolate poverty to pirates. But that doesn’t solve the problem of my fee in the event of your untimely demise.”
Selena found her unease and frustration mounting the longer she remained in Julian Tergus’s presence. “I’ll make other arrangements. Now, if there’s nothing else…?”
“Nothing,” Julian said, “but to get the ship provisioned up, and quickly. I don’t think we should remain here another day. The pirate you spared has no doubt squealed to his gang about the unfortunate loss of Mallen.”
“Mallen was your doing,” Selena said.
“Killing him was the best thing to do. Your letting the other go free was a mistake. I’m surprised, in fact, you weren’t greeted by a gang of Mallen’s collective this morning.” Julian tossed back the rest of his wine. “We’re running on luck right now and nothing more. I recommend you remain on board and send Svoz to retrieve your belongings from your inn. We’ll sail at first light.”
Selena nodded and rose, her eyes drawn to the blood stains on Julian’s shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want me to heal you?”
Julian smiled dryly. “Does it offend your Aluren sensibilities to leave a wound unhealed?”
Selena felt the color drain from her face, and Julian seemed to realize what he’d said as his smile slipped and his gaze dropped to her chest, to where her wound lay.
“Aye, it offends me more than anything.” Selena said stiffly.
She walked around his desk to stand next to Julian. He leaned back and tensed almost imperceptibly, and she sensed that if she intended to harm him, she’d be dead already. She poured water from the ampulla on her belt, and laid one hand on the bloody swatch of his shoulder. She found the moon with the other. “Illuria.”
An orange light glowed under her hand and from under his linen shirt, and his crude stitches broke. The skin healed. He said nothing at all but she felt his muscle under her hand ease.
She released him and made her way back across the cabin, concealing her weariness with measured steps. At the door she turned.
“I’m not paying three hundred gold for an injured and bloodied captain,” she said. “I need you healthy and hale if you’re to sail me to Saliz. Try to stay that way.” She left his cabin, slamming the door behind her.
Ilior was waiting outside. “What it is it?” he asked, alarmed as she stormed passed him. “What happened?”
Selena went to the rail and looked out over the gray-green waters, inhaling the salty air. Isle Uago rose out of the sea like a festering boil. Tomorrow it would disappear from the horizon and her quest would begin in earnest.
There is no one else to take us there. No one else.
“Selena?”
“I was just… speaking to the Captain about his fee,” Selena said, “and it…it struck me that this is really happening. That I will soon be battling those Bazira. That my wound will close at last.” She shook her head. “It overwhelmed me for a moment. I’m fine now.” That had shades of the truth and so not entirely a lie.
“You look pale. Frightened, almost.”
“I am frightened, to have to kill in cold blood,” Selena said. “But for the first time I have hope, which is almost as scary.”
“There is nothing wrong with hope.” He put his arm around her. “I’m glad it wasn’t the captain himself who upset you,” Ilior said after a moment. “If he had…well, it’s not too late to find another. I told you, I don’t like him.”
Selena pressed her lips together. Neither do I.