She shrugged. “He doesn’t want to take me. If he’s like every other nobleman I’ve met, he won’t let a silly thing like a promise stand in the way of his wishes.”
“You have met so many of the
righ
?”
“Second or third sons and daughters, at the College. Sometimes family, come to visit. They were not promising examples of their class.”
“Maybe they felt they had something to prove—since their families sent them away, and as Healers they could no longer lay claim to
righ
status.”
“Very likely,” she said. “It was still no excuse for treating others like the dirt beneath their feet.”
Chiss nodded. The rest of the meal passed in silence. After she finished eating, Kirian walked down the hall to the inn stairway and was about to descend to the public rooms when Lord Callo’s deep voice stopped her.
“That’s not a good idea if, in fact, Arias’ men are looking for you. I have no way to control who comes to this inn or what they might tell others.” Callo wore a plain, dark tunic and breeches, unadorned with any decorations of rank. His cloak, slung over one arm, was trimmed with valus fur. His fair hair was caught back in its tail. He looked every inch the nobleman.
“I understand,” she said. “When do we leave?”
“Chiss has ordered the horses. Are you ready?”
“Yes.” She hoisted her bag. She did not tell him that she had been ready for hours.
There were three horses waiting in the yard. Kirian sighed in relief; she was grateful for last night’s shared ride, but she was not used to being in such close contact with a man. Miri nickered at Callo, and he smiled. Kirian turned her attention to her own horse, and found herself looking at a little lady’s mare, slender of leg and bright of eye.
What a beauty,
she thought.
Kirian remembered the docks from her trip to Two Merkhan with Kin and Rashiri. Then, she had sat on deck while they sold their catch, and ventured onto the docks only long enough to buy a meat pie for lunch and to meet Ruthan’s herb seller by the gate. Now she was amazed by the press of people. There were men who slung huge sacks over their shoulders, carrying them from ship to shore. Other men, on board ship, slid crates down an ingeniously-made, slippery ramp to a cart on the dock. There were food vendors, trinket sellers, and women, always accompanied by other women, carrying baskets as they shopped amid the wares laid out on blankets. A spicy, meaty smell hung in the air as they passed the sausage vendor; next to her a sagging table was loaded with fruit, imported on one of these ships during this season, the dead of winter, in Righar. Two men in the furs of mountain herders argued with raised voices. A merchant in a fur-trimmed, red cloak walked past, accompanied by a young man with a ledger. Kirian was so fascinated by all the activity that she almost forgot that Lord Arias’ men were seeking her—and Lord Callo as well.
Watching for signs that anyone was interested in their progress, she nearly kept going when Miri stopped. Lord Callo dismounted at the foot of a sort of swinging, wooden walkway that led to a ship. With Callo halfway up the walkway, she turned to Chiss. “Aren’t we being very public about this?” she asked. “Lord Arias’ men are looking for all of us—surely they will know exactly where we have gone?”
“Hon Kirian, there is no use asking my lord to be secretive about this. I believe he would draw more attention if he were to try to sneak aboard.”
She sighed, scanning the docks now for guardsmen who might be suspicious of her. “I hope they do not come for me before this ship sails.”
“There are no Seagard men here to see us, and the people on the docks are pretty close-mouthed,” Chiss said, starting up the walkway after Lord Callo. “Once we do sail, no one will follow us to Ha’las.”
Kirian grimaced, hoping he knew what he was talking about. She gave the rein to the boy Callo paid to hold their horses, and followed Chiss and Callo up the walkway and onto the deck of the trader.
The ship’s name was painted on her bow: the
Fortune.
An excellent name for a ship that would carry her away from everything she knew. A dark-skinned man wearing not one, but two earrings in his right ear directed them to the captain’s cabin. They entered, stooping under the low lintel to find a heavyset, dark-eyed man seated at a wooden table. The man stood as they entered; he wore a rich blue tunic over another of red, and black seamen’s trows. There was a ring in his nostril, and a huge red stone in a ring on his thumb.
“My Lord!” he said instantly. “Welcome to the
Fortune
. You are too late for the emissaries; they went with Lord Alkiran’s men at first light.” He grinned, and his teeth shone white in his sunburned face.
Callo looked around for a seat; the ceiling was too low for his height. He sat on a trunk, and Chiss gestured to Kirian to sit beside him, but she shook her head.
“Captain Ghosian, well met,” Callo said. “I am not here to meet the emissaries.”
“Indeed I guessed not. Do you have business for me? Does one of your companions require passage?”
“Your next port?”
“Since it is you, my lord, I will tell you. It is Ha’las, of course. We depart for Las’ash at evening.” Ghosian looked round his cabin. “Refreshments? Smoke?”
“Neither, thank you. Ghosian, I require passage for all three of us to Las’ash.”
Ghosian’s eyes narrowed. “Ah! Lord Callo, I will be honored. We have space—just barely, but space enough. I am sure we can come to some accommodation. But what shall I say when Lord Alkiran’s men come galloping back—or even King Martan’s, on my next call here at Two Merkhan—and ask why the Royal Bastard has flown to Ha’las?”
“They are more likely to be seeking an escaped slave and a young Healer of noble descent, one Inmay, who are fleeing Fortress Mount’s justice.”
“They have already mentioned this Inmay.” Ghosian paused. Kirian watched the captain scan each of them with those large, calculating eyes. She wondered what he made of her.
“The woman,” Ghosian said with a polite nod at Kirian. “She will be with you in Las’ash?”
Lord Callo nodded.
“She may be a problem,” Ghosian said. “They guard their women against the ku’an. Unmarried women must be accompanied by a male relative, or some other woman. Otherwise, she may be taken from you by their priests.”
Kirian stared at him. This sounded very unpleasant. She wondered why it was necessary to guard young women against the ku’an in particular. She was about to speak when Lord Callo said, “She is a Healer.”
Ghosian shrugged. “That may make a difference. I do not know. I simply warn you. As a friend.”
“We will deal with it later,” Callo said. “For now, Ghosian—your price for passage?”
Kirian let the negotiations fade from her attention as she pondered the role of women in Ha’las. She had not thought through what she wished to do in that foreign land, but she hadn’t intended to be tied to her male companions. The thought of remaining in Two Merkhan crossed her mind; perhaps she could wait for Kin and Rashiri to make their next visit and return with them on the
Homebound
. Perhaps the villagers would hide her.
The idea of hiding, perhaps for months, oppressed her. She looked out the porthole and saw the bright sun glittering off the sea past the clutter of ships in port, and grinned to herself. She would find a way to remain independent, even in Ha’las. She returned to the conversation to find that Lord Callo had negotiated passage for all of them and their horses—the little lady’s mare as well, Kirian exulted—for the exorbitant price of thirty kels.
“My lord,” protested Chiss when Callo nodded his agreement. Callo waved his manservant’s protest aside. Ghosian, red-cheeked and grinning, extended a hand to shake Lord Callo’s.
“It is done!” Ghosian said. “You will not be sorry, my lord. The
Fortune
will give you every comfort due to you. Your horses will be treated like the best Southern racehorses! Our cook will provide you with dinners worthy of your station. And I will make my best store of Smoke available to you and your companions.”
“That last won’t be necessary,” Lord Callo said. He rose and then ducked his head, recalling the low ceiling just in time. He quirked an eyebrow at Kirian, and she laughed.
On deck, while their cabins were being made ready, Chiss said, “My lord, thirty kels? Remember your funds must last us a long time now.”
Callo shrugged. “I bought more with our thirty kels than passage, Chiss. I bought conditional silence.”
“He does not strike me as a secretive man.”
Callo laughed. “No, but Ghosian has an eye open for the best chance. He will do his best not to inform on us. Remember, Ghosian has no wish to lose his favored position between the Leyish government and King Martan. He doesn’t want Sharpeyes angry at him.”
Kirian’s cabin looked more like a servant’s closet. It was barely big enough for the cot and herself. It was dark, with no porthole. There was a hook on the wall, holding a candle enclosed in perforated tin. But the blankets folded on the cot were thick and soft, and she rejoiced that at least she would not have to share a cabin.
Chiss knocked on her door after a while to tell her they were going to check on the disposition of the horses. He sneered at her cabin and offered to talk to Ghosian about obtaining a larger one, but she refused. When he left, she wrapped the old cloak around herself and set off to look around the ship.
It was nearing dusk now, and the
Fortune
’s crew was preparing to depart Two Merkhan. Hatches were tied down and crates on deck made fast. Ghosian must have succeeded with his bribery of customs, since there was no sign of any inspection. Kirian stood at the deck rail and looked back at the docks. They looked different now, not as safe, inhabited by different people. The shopping women were gone. There were no merchants trailing clerks with ledgers. Instead, the docks were sparsely lit with oil lamps on pegs outside shops that looked like taverns. Their doors hung open and the murmur of men’s voices came from within, along with a shout of song here and there, and the clatter of pottery. On the dock were only seamen at leave, and guardsmen, one mounted, two on foot, keeping the peace. The row of docked ships stood cloaked by the progressing dark, and shadows pooled on the dock where there were no taverns trying to attract business. To the west, except for several mage-lit markers in the crescent harbor, was only darkness.
She sighed and stepped back from the rail. It was time to go back to the cabin. Perhaps there would be food soon – the wondrous dinners Ghosian had promised them. She smiled as she realized Ghosian had been delighted with the passage fee Callo had agreed to. My Lord Callo was not a bargainer, but who should expect a nobleman to be good at such a thing?
Walking back to her little cabin, she heard a hatch thud closed as she passed. A cold draft blew under her cloak, chilling her lightly-clad legs. Surely there had been a murmur of voices there, just a moment ago, and then silence. She looked around and saw darkness filling up the corners of the ship, deepened rather than eliminated by the yellow lanterns on the rail. She hesitated, looking at the hatch cover again, then heard a creak as if a door eased open. She spun, and saw a cabin door ajar, and in its opening a face she knew very well.
“Gods above,” she whispered.
The face looked downward, the pale and gray hair ghostly in the dusk. Then the cabin door closed. Inmay had said nothing.
She walked on, to her cabin, where she changed into her other set of clothing. Kirian was pleased to have something to make her feel appropriately dressed for the Captain’s dinner. She slipped her ten kels into a pocket. She combed her hair and tried to banish Inmay from her mind. She tried hard to convince herself she had not seen Inmay at all.
Ghosian’s table was almost as good as he had promised. She sat at table next to Lord Callo, himself wearing a valus-trimmed tunic that proclaimed his status but must have been unbearably hot in the close quarters of the Captain’s cabin. There were two other guests of the Captain: a young Leyish lady who was draped in colors as rich as Ghosian’s, and her companion. The lady wore two earrings in each lobe. Kirian had thought that was a seamen’s style, flashy and outrageous, but now she realized it must be common in Leyland. The lady’s older companion also wore them.
Chiss stood behind for a while, and served them; this bothered her. After a while Callo enquired what was causing her terrible frown, and she asked why Chiss was not seated with them.
“Oh, he prefers it this way,” Lord Callo said.
She doubted that, but said nothing more. After a while, when she saw Chiss and the captain’s servant step outside for a breath of fresh air, she envied him.
Kirian did full justice to the baked fish and buttery potatoes offered them. The drink filled her mind with clouds; she was not used to such strong wine. Ghosian dominated the first candlemark with tales of his latest journey from Leyland to Two Merkhan, and the sea monster that he said had delayed them for more than a sennight while they debated how it could be killed or avoided. The Leyish lady, who had glimpsed the monster from deck, described it in a breathy, frightened voice. Kirian hoped they encountered nothing like that on the way to Ha’las, but Ghosian said: “No, Hon Kirian, these creatures stay to warmer waters.”
The Leyish lady began talking politics over dessert. She had heard of a new group at a southern Righar port, an unbound color mage and his followers, who were talking up the overthrow of the King’s mage-supported rule.
“I saw a drawing of him,” the lady said with wide eyes, shaking her head. “A scary man, all wild hair and eyes. You can tell he has no binding; he looks half crazy.”
“An unbound mage is not invariably crazy,” Callo said.
“I have heard that the magic drives them crazy, if they are not taught and Collared,” the lady said, her eyes avid. Her companion ate dessert beside her, seeming to pay no attention. “I have been told they are unmanageable, and can’t control their impulses.”
Ghosian said, “I fear you are misinformed, my lady. Though I also hear there have been some cases of madness, Lord Callo?”