Oathen (20 page)

Read Oathen Online

Authors: Jasmine Giacomo

Tags: #romance, #coming of age, #magic, #young adult, #epic, #epic fantasy, #pirates, #adventure fantasy, #ya compatible

BOOK: Oathen
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She stopped and looked back at him. “Lesson
number six: don’t ever challenge the captain unless you can take
her whole crew as well.”

“Are you always this unreasonable when you
don’t get your way, or is it just with me?” he hissed, bracing
himself against her pull.

Rhona stopped pulling and turned to face him.
Her free hand slipped behind her to rest on the handle of a dagger
on the back of her belt. Her eyes were as cold as the blue bands of
ice in the Shatterglass glacier. “What did you say to
me?”

Geret looked across the deck for support.
Several crew members watched, but no one interfered. Kemsil looked
down from the castle deck with concern. Just as he opened his mouth
to call down, Meena put a hand on his arm. She pointed past Geret
and mouthed words the prince couldn’t hear.

At that moment, a long, gleaming blade pierced
the lace on Rhona’s sleeve and whispered against her wrist. She and
Geret watched it slide until its hilt rested against her arm and
Geret’s collar.

“Fine day for a duel, don’t you think?” Salvor
asked. A small smile matched his lazy tone.

A gust of wind ruffled Geret’s hair. “It’s on
the windy side.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Salvor’s eyes
locked onto Rhona’s.

She let go of her dagger, and Salvor withdrew
his blade from her sleeve. “You want to duel the captain of a Clan
vessel? Do you have any idea what that means, Lord
Thelios?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t care
who you are. You touch my prince like that, you have my full
attention.”

Rhona laughed. “I thought you said he wasn’t
your type.”

Eavesdropping crew members chuckled, but
Salvor merely smiled patiently, waiting.

“You’re serious.”

He nodded.

“Well, you should know, the Clans don’t duel.
We fight for blood until one side submits, and we don’t play around
with dulled or wooden blades. You still want to dance on my
deck?”

Another small smile. “Most
emphatically.”

Rhona looked to Geret, but he just shrugged
and jerked his head toward Salvor. “You two have fun.”

“All right, shiny.” She turned and raised her
voice. “The bodyguard wants to command the
Princeling
. What
say you, Clansfolk? Should I bleed off that arrogance for
him?”

The crew cheered in response. Many of them
abandoned their tasks and drew closer.

She faced Salvor again. “All right,
dirtwalker; let’s dance.”

~~~

Salvor and Geret stepped back to the castle
wall and waited while crew members cleared a space on deck for the
duel. Above them, Kemsil and Meena leaned on the rail.

“I suggest you not watch, Geret,” Salvor said,
keeping his eyes on Rhona.

Geret slid his gaze over. “Why not? You think
I’ll lose my breakfast at the sight of your precious
blood?”

“This is for your benefit; don’t stab me in
the foot. Go below and stay there. Don’t forget the
book.”

Sanych’s book! Does he know what’s in
it?
Geret stepped over and retrieved it from where Rhona had
thrown it, closing it carefully and dusting it off. With one last
glance at Salvor, he headed below.

At the door to Rhona’s cabin, he hesitated.
Inside were the red silk curtains and the swinging bed Rhona had
nearly dragged him to just moments ago.
It wouldn’t kill me to
let Rhona bed me, I suppose. But more refusals might be dangerous
to my health. Was Rhona right about me? Did I turn her down last
night because of my duty to Vint, or because of
Sanych?

His head swam.
Don’t want to go in that
cabin right now. I need to write back to Sanych, though, and the
inkwell is in there.

He opened the door quietly and eased inside,
looking behind him to make sure Rhona wasn’t barging down to drag
him to her bed again. When he closed it and turned around, he saw
Sanych sitting at the table. Her pen was poised over another
priceless book.

“Is Rhona coming?” she asked, standing
abruptly.

“No, no. Salvor’s dueling her on deck. She’ll
be distracted from me for awhile…which is exactly what he wanted,”
he finished, belatedly realizing Salvor’s plan.
Well, I see no
reason not to take advantage of his plan and execute one of my
own.

She seated herself again. “What’s going on?
Why is your shirt torn?”

“The situation is being handled,” he said,
sliding into a chair across the corner from her. “Listen, whatever
the crew says about last night, don’t believe them.”

She met his eyes and quirked her lips into a
brief grin. “You mean how the dirtwalker prince was helplessly
mesmerized by the jewel-encrusted…charms…of their captain? Mmhmm.
My ears didn’t stop working during the night.”

“What?”

She pointed to the wall behind him. “My bunk
is right there, Geret. You snored something awful, but that’s all
you did.”

A sigh of relief escaped his lips, and he
slumped onto one elbow, taking her hand with his. “You’re a
treasure, Sanych.”

She smiled. “Ironic. You’ve traveled halfway
across the world seeking the treasure of the
Dire Tome
, only
to learn that it’s a cursed and evil book, yet I’ve been by your
side the whole time, unnoticed.”

“No, not unnoticed. Underappreciated, maybe.”
He squeezed her hand.

“Maybe? Maybe?” She scoffed. “I was just a
cute girl in the moonlight to you, Geret. Just Salvor’s little
girlfriend, to steal kisses from among the coconuts.”

He met her eyes, feeling his heart pound
against the edge of the table.
Oh yes, I definitely turned Rhona
down because of Sanych
. He raised her hand to his lips and
kissed her fingers. “For that indiscretion, you have my most abject
apology. The more I know you, the more I enjoy your
company.”

“How can you be sure that you’re not just
letting out emotions with me that you dare not show Rhona? Isn’t
this just the reverse of the Cuttleboat kiss, with you in the
relationship instead of me? Your passion overflows when you’re
stressed, but when things are going well, we’re just friends again.
How do I know I won’t just return to being
short-and-slightly-irritating-Sanych in your eyes?”

Geret began a denial, but some small part of
him realized he was in no position to judge his own motivations
dispassionately; he’d done exactly as she claimed once they reached
the safety of Salience, even if it had been at Salvor’s suggestion.
He let go of her hand, setting it gently on the table.

“Rhona likes me all to herself; being isolated
from my friends makes it easy to lose myself in her ways. But your
books, the notes you write inside them, they keep me centered. I’ll
balance here for as long as I can. Hopefully, once we reach Shanal,
I can get some space and sort myself out. Can you wait for me to do
that, Sanych?”

She looked down at the book she’d been writing
in, and Geret felt a stab of worry. Had he hurt her too deeply by
keeping his feelings from her in Salience?

“Master Godric told me, before I left to find
Meena, that once an Archivist is called to an advisory position,
most of their time will be spent waiting for others to recognize
the wisdom of their advice, and that I should practice my patience.
I didn’t think I’d be advising anyone so soon. But since that’s one
of my duties in your expedition, Prince Geret, I’ll work on my
patience right away.”

She’ll wait for me!
His grin felt like
it was going to split his face into two ecstatic halves.

A muted cheer, interspersed with cannonball
whistles, radiated through the planks overhead. Their wide eyes
met; the duel was over.

“Give me that book,” Sanych said, reaching for
it. “And get out of here.”

Geret handed the book over and stepped to the
door. “You’ll keep writing?”

“Not if you don’t get out!” she said
hurriedly, her chair clattering as she darted for the desk, drawing
her small dagger.

Geret grinned at her, then hurried over to his
own cabin, closing the door quietly behind him. His heart thrummed
with success at his secret conversation with Sanych.
I need to
remember to thank Salvor.

A jab of adrenaline cured his mind of its
euphoria. Rhona wouldn’t actually kill Salvor, would
she?

That depends entirely on how Rhona sees the
duel
, he realized.
Does she believe Salvor’s just looking
for a little swordplay, or does she see him as my champion,
stepping up to defend my chastity from her evil advances?
He
smirked.
Should I send Salvor a lacy handkerchief as a sign of
my favor?

~~~

Salvor and Rhona stepped into the clear space
on the main deck. Salvor held his family sword in one hand; Rhona
carried a pair of short swords. He stood still, dispassionately
waiting. She sank into a wide stance, shifting her feet and keeping
her hands in constant motion.

Around them, the crew chanted and cheered.
Meena and Kemsil were among them, but Salvor paid them no mind.
Having experienced Meena’s life-restoring healing once before, he
found himself with even fewer concerns for the duel’s outcome than
usual.
I’m getting unforgivably lazy
, he told
himself.

“Whenever you’re—” he began.

Rhona darted across the deck at him, slashing
with her swords. One contacted his sword, and the other swiped low
toward his knee. He blocked them both and spun out of
range.

As the crowd laughed, he said, “I see you’re
familiar with Geret’s preferred dueling style.”

Rhona grinned, twirling her swords. “I’m
familiar with quite a lot of Geret’s preferred styles.”

The crew laughed, and she lunged again. Salvor
thrust his sword forward, catching her hilt with his larger one.
Her second sword sang in from the side, and he grasped her wrist,
twisting and ducking, using her momentum. As he pivoted and dropped
to one knee, Rhona went flying over his head, skidding across the
deck on her back.

Rhona growled and got to her feet. “Looks like
you’ve practiced with Geret a fair bit yourself.”

He got to his feet. “There’s a certain
satisfaction in playing dirty, yes.”

“Then you’re gonna love the rest of this
fight.” She threw one of her swords at him. He dodged to the side,
but she met him there with her other blade, slicing a small cut
across his chest.

He knocked her remaining sword from her hand
and punched her in the cheek, making her stagger. As he followed
for another strike, she dropped to the deck and kicked up at his
groin with her foot. A quick block with his knee saved him; he
stabbed down at her as she lay at his feet.

She parried his strike with the inside of her
boot, then tripped him backward, shoving at his knee with one foot
while hooking his heel with the other. She drew her dagger from the
back of her belt and tried to stab his thigh. He kicked the small
blade from her fingers; it skittered across the deck. With a curse,
she scampered after it, but Salvor was right behind her. He tackled
her to the deck, pinning her arms.

Struggling, she looked up at him and said,
“You’re enjoying this a little too much, methinks.”

“Nonsense. When one has a qualified opponent,
it’s not possible to enjoy combat too much.”

She grinned at his compliment. With a sudden
wrench, she arched and bucked Salvor off. He rolled into the shins
of a few sailors, who happily kicked him back into the
fight.

As he got to his feet, he saw that Rhona held
both her short swords again. He squinted one eye at her, knowing
she couldn’t have retrieved them from opposite ends of the dueling
circle so quickly without help.

She laughed, giving her blades a flourish.
“Welcome to the Clan, Salvor!”

He lunged toward her, sword flicking in a
silver blur. She backed away, parrying with both swords as fast as
she could. One strike slipped through, though, splitting the lacing
on her blouse. Salvor grinned.

“Trying to seduce me during a sword fight?”
she asked, panting as they both paused. “We both know that’s not
going to work.”

“Yes it is,” he said, smoothing his hair back
with his free hand.

She let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re
certainly sure of yourself.”

He grinned, showing his teeth.
“Precisely.”

He stepped forward, raising his blade to
engage her again, but she gripped her torn shirt with the edges of
her fingers and jerked, ripping the fabric down to her belt.
Salvor, distracted by the sight of her full breasts peeking through
the torn cloth, didn’t get his sword over in time to block Rhona’s
next thrust. Wincing, he staggered back from a wound in his
shoulder, only to receive another along his ribs, followed by a
kick to his knee. He dropped to the deck, panting.

Rhona drew and hurled her dagger. It struck
Salvor in the hand, pinning him to the deck, and he growled in pain
behind his teeth. She approached his other arm and kicked his sword
away, then sniffed in disdain and dropped her blades point-first
into the deck boards.

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