Three

Crew vanished at every port. Some found new ships, some tired of life at sea and headed off to seek a farm, and a few met a more final end, whether by tavern fights or spoiled food. Toinette was only thankful to be seeing fewer deaths from the plague.

Erik’s mission meant losing more than usual. Men who’d been quite content to sail from France to Muscovy, or London to Spain, heard mysterious island west of England and shook their heads. Sailing was dangerous enough on the routes men knew practically by heart. They sailed on respectable merchant ships, not as pirates or explorers. The whole venture sounded foolhardy.

Knowing that very well, Toinette didn’t bother trying to convince them. It wouldn’t have done any good, and she had a conscience, shriveled and shrunken though it might be. Risking her life and those of willing men was as far as she would go.

Thus she drew more heavily than usual from the taverns. The Hawk would sail decently with ten men. Counting herself and Marcus, that left eight. Erik would likely be useful if they met with pirates, but she didn’t want to count on him for running up the sail or manning the wheel.

“And you don’t have to come,” she told Marcus as she made her plans, the notion having occurred to her while she slept. “I’ll not hold it against you.”

He made a pfah sound through his beard. “And will I live forever if I stay?”

“I don’t know,” said Toinette. “Make friends with an alchemist, and you might manage it yet.”

“I’ll take my chances. If this island does exist, I want to see it. If it doesn’t… Well, you’re a woman of some sense. I’ll wager you’ll turn back before we run through our supplies.”

“That I will,” said Toinette. They both knew that the matter wasn’t so simple. Storms and calms interfered with a captain’s best will, often to the cost of lives.

But Marcus knew that, and he was a grown man. Toinette made certain that the rest of the men she hired knew it too. Five were from her old crew, loyal enough to stay with her no matter how dubious the voyage, or young and adventurous enough to welcome the risk for its own sake.

Of the other three, Raoul was a branded poacher, Sence a dark and morose man who spoke little, and Emrich a scarecrow who looked around constantly and sat with his back to the wall at all times. Toinette was doubtful of their company, but they all spoke knowledgeably about their time on ships. If nothing else, they were reasonably young, strong of back, and whole of body.

Taking no chances, she had a shipbuilder come aboard and tour the Hawk, keeping an eye out for any gaps in the boards or unsoundness in the wood.

She didn’t think of speaking again to Erik. The preparation was hers to handle. She’d taken passengers before. When she was ready, she would send a message to his inn. Until then, she had no time for nostalgia.

* * *

“’Ware the barrel, there!” Toinette shouted as Erik approached the Hawk.

He sidestepped quickly out of the way as two men carried an immense tun up to the ship’s gangplank. Their fellows were rolling or lifting barrels of a similar size, as well as vast boxes and sacks. The docks near the ship were as busy as an anthill on a sunny day.

Toinette took her sharp eyes off the activity to walk down and meet him. “Rather chafes to know the two of us could have all of this done in an afternoon,” she said.

“We could put our shoulders to the wheel even in this form. It’d make your reputation,” Erik joked, looking at her. She wore a light-blue gown of thin wool with green and white embroidery, and her hair was pulled simply back into a white net. There was nothing ornate about her, but she looked every inch the well-to-do merchant’s widow, and while she was tall and tanned, nobody seeing her would have credited her strength.

Toinette laughed. Her eyes thinned a trifle, though, and there was sharpness in her voice when she first spoke. “I don’t doubt it. That’s the problem.” The mood lifted, or seemed to, and she gave him a freer smile. “Come for inspection?”

“Gawking, you might say. I don’t know what should be going aboard.”

“Biscuits, wine, cheese, salted pork, turnips, and peas, enough for three months.” Toinette gave him a flat look. “If we’ve not found the place when we’re six weeks out, we’re turning back, and I’ll hear no argument on it. Understood?”

“Completely.”

“Good.” She turned back to look at the ship. “Also fishing nets and lines, soap and brushes for the ship, sailcloth and wood for repairs, which God willing we won’t need to make at sea. Medicines.”

Erik glanced at the ship. “Do you have a physician?”

“Not as such. I know a few things, and Marcus and I are both decent with a needle, should it come to that.” She gestured to a tall, bearded man in black who stood supervising the loading. “Marcus. He’s my second-in-command. You’ll treat what he says like it comes from me—and you’ll treat what I say as law, at least until we hit land.”

“Of course,” said Erik, affronted. “Do you think I wouldn’t?”

“I don’t think you’d be a fool about it,” Toinette said, and her expression added unlike most men, “but if aught goes amiss, there’ll likely be no time for debate. I know the Hawk better than you do, and unless you’ll truly surprise me with your recent history, I know the sea better than you do.”

Erik nodded assent. “I helped my cousins on my mother’s side build a drekkar—one of their ships—once, but it was only fit for a few boys to row about in and pretend. Other than that, I’ve only been a passenger, and that rarely.”

“We’ll not hold it against you,” she said with another grin. “You’re a well-paying passenger, and it’s an interesting journey you’ve got for us.”

“Is that why you agreed?”

In his own voice, he heard the echo of his eighteen-year-old self asking why. If Toinette thought of the kiss, she didn’t show it, but her smile was that of the brash, sharp girl she’d been. “I agreed because you offered me money,” she replied, “but I’ll say it’s a more exciting job than I’ve had in a few dozen years. And you’re a better employer.”

“True,” said a lanky and dark-haired young man coming off the gangplank.

“You’ve never met the man before in your life, Gervase,” Toinette said, shaking her head at him.

“No, but he’s not having us ship goats anywhere, nor swine, and that’s a high virtue already.” Gervase’s words sounded of Paris. He’d a gold earring in one ear and a nonchalant look. “Sir, I’m most sincerely at your service.”

“Even if I’m taking you into uncharted waters?”

“Ah, but I know in my heart that the captain will bring us back safe. And if my heart’s wrong, my nose rejoices still that I’ll have only a dozen men in high summer to endure.”

“We’re all likely to be bad enough, by the end,” Toinette warned him and Erik both. “Water’s for drinking, not bathing, unless you fancy a dip in the ocean, and quarters are close.”

Erik shrugged. “I’ve been on battlefields. It can’t be worse.” He remembered the stench of blood and offal at midday and grimaced. “We’ll have the sea around us. That can only help, aye?”

“That’s the spirit,” Gervase chimed in. “And men, unlike beasts, clean up after themselves.”

“They do on the Hawk. That reminds me: if Marcus hasn’t yet given the new hands the word about drunkenness, see that he does. And—” Toinette turned back to Erik as Gervase bowed and ran off. “How’s your stomach for the ocean?”

“Decent, or I’d not be doing this.” That wasn’t entirely true. Loyalty and the force of Artair’s command could probably have gotten Erik onto a ship even if he knew he’d keep nothing down for a month. As fortune had it, he was a fair sailor, but Artair hadn’t bothered asking.

Toinette’s thin lips quirked up at the right corner. A suspicious man might have thought she knew damned well what Erik wasn’t saying. “Good. Buy ginger, in case. The sea’s rougher where we’ll be going. And I’ll tell you the same as Marcus will tell the men: if you disgrace yourself, whether from motion or drink, you’ll be cleaning it up. I don’t have the hands to spare.”

“Quite a tone to take with a customer,” he said.

“You hired a ship, my lord, and sailors.” The title wasn’t quite sarcastic. “If you want a nursemaid, you’ll have to find one separate.”

Erik made a slight bow. “In truth, Captain, I can’t imagine you nursing anyone.”

“Nor can I. Oh, and if you fight with the men or otherwise get in the way of our tasks, I’ll have you in chains until the journey’s end.”

“And what…” Erik took a step toward her, so that Toinette had to tilt her head back a little to meet his eyes. Although it hadn’t been his intent, the gesture made him notice the slender length of her neck and the shadowed hollows behind her ears. He smiled. “What would you do with me then?”

“You couldn’t break free of irons in human form.” Mindful of the crowd, Toinette spoke softly. The words hit Erik’s ears in small puffs of air. “And even a dragon couldn’t fly all the way to your destination. I’d assume you’d be reasonable.”

“I could be very reasonable,” he said, his voice low and his body tightening both at her presence and at the images in his mind. “I’d hate to disappoint you, Captain.”

She flashed him another grin, even as she stepped back. “Then I trust you’ll behave. I’ve a ship to run, after all, and a duty to my men.”