A Jewel Bright Sea Page 10

  Koszenmarc swung one leg around and slid onto the deck. “Don’t fight me,” he said to Anna. “Otherwise I can’t guarantee I won’t hurt your ribs again.”

  He was laughing again, his spirits at a too-high pitch. She sucked in a breath, braced against another stab of pain, but he caught her underneath her arms and eased her down from the horse with only a twinge.

  The moment she had both feet on the deck, she stumbled. Koszenmarc held her steady as the ship rolled under their feet, all the while calling out orders to his crew—something about sheets and sails and stays.

  “And where the hells is Joszua?” he finished up.

  “Here, Captain.” A wiry young man with thick black hair dropped into view. “You wanted me?”

  “So glad you had the leisure to join us,” Koszenmarc said. “Take our friend below. She can share the cabin with our other guest.”

  He handed over Anna and vanished into the confusion.

  Anna had time to spit in Koszenmarc’s direction before the ship lurched and her stomach heaved against her ribs. She swallowed. When the ship gave another lurch, she stumbled over to the railing. Dimly she was aware of a whine close to her ear, then Joszua urging her to go belowdecks. She shook her head and gave another heave.

  “Come along, Lady Vrou…”

  Another thin whine passed close by, followed by a thunk. Joszua yanked her away from the railing. “Come with me,” he repeated. “You’ll be more comfortable below.”

  He shoved his way down the deck between his crewmates, tossing off insults and orders as he went. “Watch your feet, Karl. This is a lady, not a cow. Uwe, get a hand on that rope, or aren’t you done with your nap yet? Here we are, Vrou. Down that hatch.”

  He propelled Anna along, not roughly, but clearly in a hurry. Anna twisted free and braced herself against the frame of the hatch. “Stop pushing me, damn you.”

  An arrow thunked into the deck next to her feet. Anna gave a yelp and scrambled down the ladder. She lost her footing and landed on her hands and knees on the deck below. Joszua swung down beside her. “Hush, my Lady Vrou. No need to cry. We likely won’t die tonight.”

  “I am not crying,” Anna shouted.

  She wasn’t, but she was very close to something like it. She took refuge in snarling at this unknown young man, who seemed to find everything so amusing. Joszua merely smiled and took her firmly by the arm as he steered her down the passageway. “Just as you say, Lady Vrou. The captain wants you here.”

  He paused before a small hatch and with a practiced twist had the latch undone and the door open.

  Anna made a pretense of testing him, but she already knew she could not fight him. With a sigh, she walked through the door.

  The door clicked shut behind her. An iron bar dropped into place.

  Anna sucked down a breath and felt the seas roll beneath her feet.

  Just like a mouse in a trap, she thought bitterly.

  Her newest prison was a dark box of a room. No convenient porthole. No lantern hanging from the ceiling. The air smelled of sweat and terror, with no sweet herbs to leaven sourness.

  A faint snorting breath sounded close by.

  Anna jumped. Only then did she remember Koszenmarc’s final words.

  She can share the cabin with our other guest.

  What other guest? Another idiot nobleman who got himself kidnapped?

  A breath of silence followed. Then the groan of someone in pain.

  Her stomach fluttering in terror, Anna called up the magical current. She curled her fingers and felt the current collect inside her palm, then whispered the rest of the invocation for light.

  Ei rûf ane gôtter. Komen mir de leiht.

  The light flared bright and warm. She held it a moment before letting it drift upward to illuminate the room.

  Her first impressions had not been so very wrong. The cabin measured just a half dozen paces in each direction. Two hammocks were slung in each corner, and an unlit lantern hung from the ceiling. She caught sight of several shadowy objects off to one side, heaps of blankets, two buckets, and what appeared to be a chamber pot.

  Another groan sounded, almost unintelligible, except for the trailing curse words at the end. She knew that voice at once.

  “Maté!”

  Anna dropped to her knees next to the hammock.

  He was not dead, not even close, and someone had kindly tucked his left arm under his head to make a pillow. But his other arm hung limp over the edge of the hammock and his face was utterly slack.

  Maszny did this to him, she thought. Maszny and his gods-be-damned soldiers.

  “Can you hear me?” she asked.

  His lips moved, but only a garbled noise came from his throat.

  Anna took his right hand in hers and pressed her palm against his callused one.

  ...a lethargy consumed her. Muscles and flesh melting into a thick liquid. Maté tried to speak, but his throat could do nothing but spasm. All that was left to him were the essentials. He could breathe. He could swallow. His heart beat on...

  Permeating everything was Maszny’s signature, a vivid imprint that called to mind sunlight upon mountains. The work of a master mage, she thought, remembering how he had executed this complex spell with just a flick of his fingers. Where had he learned such control?

  An odd wriggling in the magic caught her attention. A loose thread in the spell’s pattern. Her breath came faster as she recognized the implications. This…this had to be Maszny’s key to undoing his own spell.

  She reached out with her mind’s eye and plucked at the thread…

  …the magic unraveled, a cascade of living threads tumbling away…

  Maté’s fingers curled around hers. “Anna?” His breath came short and uncertain. “No…gods…I know it’s you. No one…else…so damned stubborn.”

  She gripped his hands in hers and kissed them. “You’re alive.”

  “Of course I am, miserable child. I hurt too much otherwise. Help me out of these ropes.”

  He tried to roll out of the hammock. Anna pressed both hands against his chest. “Stop. Take a few moments before you try to conquer the world.”

  “As though I ever could. Where are we?”

  “Captured by pirates and heading out to sea. Our friend Maszny was chasing us, last I saw.”

  Maté uttered a few choice words about Maszny and Koszenmarc and pirates in general. Anna wanted to laugh, except it described her own feelings so exactly.

  “At least we’re alive,” she said.

  “For now,” he replied. “Help me up, if you can.”

  Between the two of them, Maté finally rolled himself upright. He sank back, balanced in that uncertain nest of ropes, but when she reached out to steady him, he shrugged away. “Leave me. I’m well enough.”

  She ignored his rough tone and wrapped her arms around him. My mountain, she thought. She had no idea what she would have done if Koszenmarc had left Maté behind.

  “What happened to you?” she whispered.

  His voice came out in gasps. “What you see. Soldiers took me through the wharf district. Like a sack of wheat. Could hear and see. Couldn’t talk.” Then his gaze sharpened and he looked more like himself. “You? Are you—”

  “I’m fine. Bruised ribs, but nothing worse.” She shook her head, thinking over the chaos in the streets. “Maszny expected an attack. He insisted we take back streets and alleys, and he never once stopped watching. It wasn’t enough. Then Koszenmarc attacked. I fell off my horse and let myself get taken. Again,” she added bitterly. She leaned into Maté, who shifted around to drape his arm around her. Her ribs protested, but she wanted the hug too much to care. The chase was over. Maté found and restored. She started to shake from terror delayed. She pressed her face against his chest and held him tight.

  “No need to fret,” Maté w
hispered. “We were both taken. He’s a clever man, that Koszenmarc.”

  “Pigs and brigands and galloping horses,” she muttered.

  “What?”

  “Never mind. Oh, Maté, I was so worried. I thought Maszny—”

  “He expected an ambush,” Maté said. “He got two, instead. A group of hoodlums came charging through the middle of the docks. Before anyone could do anything, they’d knocked the soldiers over the head and carried me away to this ship.”

  Anna couldn’t help herself. She laughed into his shirt. “Kidnapped. Both of us.”

  She went on to give him a more coherent account of her own so-called rescue, including the business with the clothes, and how Koszenmarc seemed to have planned for every eventuality. “It’s as though he knew everything about our arrest,” she said. “When and where, and what routes the commander would choose.”

  “Or he was lucky.”

  She shook her head. “He’s lucky and clever. And he knows too much.”

  It was Maté’s turn to laugh. “Before, it was you telling me he’s no danger.”

  “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

  The door swung open. Joszua paused and blinked at the magical light. His mouth quirked into a smile. “I see you won’t be wanting any lanterns,” he said. “But you might be wanting this.” He dropped a covered basket on the floor of their cabin. “We’re a ways from home. The captain thinks you’ll want a bite in the meantime.”

  “But what about—”

  The door slammed shut. She flung herself at the door and rattled the latch. Locked. She growled. “Pestilent young man.”

  Maté appeared unconcerned. “Let’s see what the captain sent us.”

  They dug out the contents of the basket—metal bowls and spoons, a kettle of fish stew, several rolls of flatbread, and two leather flasks. Maté laid out the dishes on the floor of their cabin for a picnic meal. “Eat,” he told her when she demurred. “We both need our strength, for whatever comes next.”

  It was more likely she would eat, then spew her dinner. Now that she was no longer distracted by terror or worried for Maté, Anna felt her stomach rolling along with the ship. She murmured the spell she had learned from the ship’s surgeon during their passage from the mainland—was it only a few weeks ago?—and felt the chaos subside. At Maté’s prodding, she accepted a bowl of the stew and a fragment of bread.

  One of the flasks contained wine, the other fresh water. Maté poured them each a mug of the water, then dug into his portion as though this was one more task in a very long day. Anna tasted the stew. Her stomach decided to cooperate, apparently, because moments later she had finished off the stew and the flatbread. The fluttering inside eased and she no longer felt as though she would collapse into a limp and sweaty heap.

  She filled her mug from the wine flask and took a sip. “They didn’t take Raab,” she said quietly.

  “So I guessed. I’m not sure it matters.”

  “It has to matter. He might—”

  Maté shook his head. “Forget Lukas. At least for now.” In a softer voice, he added, “Be careful what you say. A ship doesn’t have much privacy.”

  The thought of Koszenmarc eavesdropping sent a shudder through her. But she could not leave the topic alone. She leaned close to Maté and whispered, “Do you think Raab might send word to our friend back home?”

  Maté did not reply at first. He turned his mug around and around in his hands, his gaze far distant from this tiny cabin. Then he sighed. “Perhaps. But I’m not sure what our friend could do, with him so far away. He might decide we aren’t worth the trouble, not with the commander suspicious. I’m more worried about our pirate friends. They won’t kill us right away,” he said in a musing tone. “They want something from us.”

  Such a comfort, Anna thought. She took another sip of wine, which did nothing to stop the trembling inside her.

  “Drink the rest of your wine,” Maté said. His voice dropped into a whisper. “I want to see if our pestilent young man accidentally gifted us with something useful.”

  His search turned up very little. The spoons for the soup could be hammered into weapons, Maté said, if only they had the tools. They did not, alas. The bowls were useless, though in another situation they might make a small shield. If they had sand, they could transform the flasks into bludgeons.

  “If only I had a great big rock,” Anna grumbled.

  “You do,” Maté said. “You have a great big rock called magic. But I suspect our captain has others with rocks of their own.” He glanced around the cabin, as though searching for more weapons, then sighed. “Our chief problem is that we are two, and they are many. And we are miles away from shore. Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow might bring us a better chance.”

  He sank into his hammock and seemed to fall asleep within moments. Anna poured herself another mug of wine and sat with her back against the wall of the cabin. The light she had summoned was fading, as if the magic were leaking from this world back into the void between worlds.

  Where were they going? she wondered. Why had Koszenmarc rescued them? What did he mean by, Our commander wanted an excuse? And what about Raab?

  When the light had vanished completely, she finished off her wine and climbed into her own hammock. Why and how kept tumbling through her brain, until the ship’s steady rise and fall over the swells, its strange song of creaking planks and ropes humming in the wind, detached her from her useless speculations and she fell into sleep.

  * * * *

  A day or more passed with no sunlight or any means to track the hours. Joszua appeared four more times at irregular intervals. He brought them more baskets stocked with pots of that same fish stew, and once, a thick soup of dried beef and beans. He exchanged their full chamber pots for empty ones with that same cheerfulness. They were not in want of water, but they never had so much that Anna dared use their supply to wash her face. At least her ribs no longer felt sore.

  Maté asked for a pack of cards and was refused. Two hours later, both cards and a bag of dice arrived with their next meal, and Maté taught Anna the rudiments of a game he called Complication, which involved the giving and taking of points based on a formula involving the worth of the card, the current score of each player, and the results of the previous throw. There were more rules, he assured her, but these were enough for a beginner.

  He was trying to distract her, she knew. It worked. She spent a furious two or three hours attempting to rob her friend of all his cards. She had no thought for the ship’s motion or what lay at the end of this journey. Eventually, however, her patience ran out and she admitted it was time to sleep. This time, she kept her magical light burning because she could not bear the darkness.

  * * * *

  She woke to a sudden blinding light in her eyes. She bolted upright, the first words of the magical invocation on her lips, only to be checked by a strong grip on her arm. “Not so fast, Lady Vrou.”

  Two grim-faced pirates stood over her. One held a lantern and a dagger, while the other hauled her to her feet. Her own magic had been extinguished, and she detected faint traces of another signature that overlaid hers. Someone else with a great big rock, she thought.

  Maté had already been roused from his hammock. He stood in the opposite corner, hands bound behind his back, with a third man standing guard. At her questioning glance, he shook his head.

  No chance, said his expression.

  Not yet. Perhaps never.

  The three pirates hustled them out of the cabin and up the ladder onto the deck. Night had fallen. Stars speckled the skies and the moon loomed bright and full overhead. Ahead was a brilliant constellation of lights that outlined a high peak, much taller than any ship. An island?

  Their ship glided around the peak and into a narrow bay. Walls of stone rose up on either side, an endless black expanse that seemed to ripple in the pa
ssing lamplight. By accident or design, the pirates had permitted her to stand next to Maté. He leaned closer, just enough to brush his arm against hers. She glanced up to see him smiling at her.

  “Courage,” he murmured.

  But his voice was not as steady as usual. Was there, after all, a limit to his seemingly endless spirit?

  She pressed her forehead against his shoulder. Well, and if they died tonight, at least they were together.

  Now they entered a circle of water ringed by stone cliffs. A burst of shouts echoed from the walls, with more answering from the ship. Anna heard a squeal, then a splash. The ship jerked, glided on, jerked again, and came to a halt. A second, smaller ship navigated around them to drop anchor only a dozen yards away.

  One of the crew flung down a rope ladder. Moments later, more pirates clambered over the side and onto the deck, among them several boys and girls. One of them paused and stared at Anna.

  Brown-skinned, his hair braided close to his skull… Anna blinked in recognition. This was the same boy who had rowed her to Vyros.

  The boy grinned and made a sweeping bow. “Lady Vrou. I’m glad to see you again.”

  Anna growled, but the boy only laughed. “The captain told me to row you to shore. He said you might want a friend and not some stinking toad like Uwe here.”

  Uwe aimed an open-handed smack at him, which the boy dodged.

  “Enough, Nikolas.” A woman swung over the ship’s side and onto the deck. “Don’t act like a wild goat.” She turned her attention to Anna and Maté. “Can you climb down a rope ladder? Both of you?”

  Anna nodded. Maté grunted in agreement.

  “Good,” she said. “Karl, you and Isaak see them safely over the side. No dunking, no tricks, or I’ll set you both to the most miserable chores I can find. That goes for you as well, Nikolas.”

  The boy Nikolas grinned again. “Yes, Ma. I’m not a goat.”