Princess at Sea (53 page)

My breath hissed in. I frantically looked at the
Black Sandpiper,
then back to him. Shame seemed to stop my heart. I had allowed them to be taken, and she no longer trusted me. “They don't want me to be ambassador,” I said. “I—I understand. I'll get my things off . . . the boat.” My voice rose to a squeak at the end, and I hated it.

“Tess, no,” Kavenlow said, and he reached out, sounding embarrassed and worried all at the same time. “You're to be Costenopolie's ambassador at large, and that there”—he nodded to the
Black Sandpiper
—“is your boat. But you won't be on it when it goes to Misdev. Today or any other day. Misdev will have a more permanent ambassador, which is a polite term for willing hostage. Alex's father insisted on one after this latest fiasco.”

He frowned, and my threatened tears hesitated. “I don't understand.”

Letting go of my elbows, he put his back to the fuss and noise at the ramp to face me squarely. His hands took mine, and he looked at them, lying small and smooth within his rough grip. “Tess,” he said softly, “I can't be your master anymore.”

Panic flooded me, and though I had been expecting this, my heart beat wildly, and my throat closed. I was being dismissed. The long, private conversation he had had last night with Jeck took on a new meaning. I swallowed hard, keeping my voice low so he wouldn't hear it shake when I said, “I understand.”

“Don't cry,” he said, his rough voice pleading. “It's a matter of necessity. I wish it could be otherwise, but our skills don't mesh. Your tolerances have hardly dropped in the last month, and Jeck, knowing it and being a rival, would be forever a danger to the Costenopolie game. You understand I can't risk it.”

I nodded, dying inside. “I understand.” I couldn't look at him, and I pulled my hands from his.

Making a small noise, Kavenlow took a step back. “We've talked it over and have agreed that you will become Jeck's apprentice.”

Shocked, my head came up. I blinked back the blur of unshed tears, feeling my face go cold. “Jeck's . . .” I stammered. Tearing my eyes from Kavenlow's patent, pained smile, I looked at the Misdev captain. The man stood stiff and uneasy beside Alex. He knew what we were talking about.

My knees went weak, and I struggled to form a coherent thought. “I don't want to be his apprentice!” I finally exclaimed, flushing at the memory of his arms around me, a single spot of comfort and understanding when my world had been falling apart. “I don't like him!” I lied. “He doesn't care about me at all. I'd rather . . . leave the game!”

“Slow down,” he soothed, his hand landing on my shoulder. “You don't mean that.”

“Kavenlow . . .” I pleaded, knowing I would rather die than leave the game voluntarily. “He's mean and cruel to me.”

“He's not.”

I stood in a panic, feeling unreal and ready to pass out. This could not be happening. “He left me on the island with the pirates,” I said. “And he tied me to the mast on the raft like an animal. And then he just walked off and left me to find my way back to the capital alone, taking all the food! Please don't make me be his apprentice!”

“Shhhh,” he said, using the inside of my expansive sleeve to wipe my face.
Chu pits, I'm crying.
“He did nothing to harm you,” Kavenlow said. “He was evaluating you.”

Breath catching, I met his proud, sorrowful gaze. His shoulders shifted as he gathered his thoughts. “There are things going on that you don't know about, Tess. Jeck did nothing to hurt you. By leaving you to be recaptured by the pirates, you might have saved Contessa's and Alex's lives. It was a good move, and if it had been me, I would have done the same thing, though I admittedly would have told you. If Jeck hadn't tied you to the mast, you would have either killed him or jumped into the waves and killed yourself.”

My eyes widened. I hadn't known Jeck had told him all that. But there was no fear in Kavenlow, no shame that I had lost control of myself and tried to kill Jeck.

“And the walk to the capital alone?” Kavenlow said, bringing my attention back to him as he patted my hand. “His slowing to the pace you were capable of would have done nothing to help you at all. As it was, he went ahead and made sure you had a fire when you caught up. And by walking away in front of that old woman, it moved her to pity you. Not a bad emotion if used properly, which you apparently did. Angry at him for abandoning you, she gave you things you needed, whereas she might not have otherwise.”

I stared at him, balanced as I tried to believe. Had I been even more blind than I thought?

“When he brought up the question of stealing you away as his apprentice last spring,” Kavenlow said, “it wasn't only a matter of not wanting to expend the toxin needed to bring a novice up from scratch. It's expensive and risky, and he really didn't want a princess to succeed him, but a soldier. But you impressed him with your tenacity and resourcefulness in regaining the palace. He thought that only a soldier had the fortitude to become a successful player. You proved him wrong. You never gave up. Though you moaned and complained, you saw what needed to be done, and you did it. Your resourcefulness and daring salvaged a game played out and lost. You made hard choices, knowing you would have to live with the results. And when you were facing death, you carried yourself with the bravery of a soldier.”

“Really?” I prompted hesitantly, and he smiled, his eyes darkening with moisture.

“Really,” he affirmed. “And since the punta bite elevated your residual levels, I agree that Jeck is the only player who can survive teaching you. The only one who can best you. Not in power, perhaps, but in skills.”

“You think I'm more powerful than Jeck?” I asked, a stab of fear taking me.

He nodded, his expression serious. “Yes. But be careful. Strength means nothing without the ability to wield it. He hides his skills almost as carefully as you hide your strength, and if you're anything but obedient, he will find a way to humiliate you in some way that can't be traced to him, so mind your manners.”

“No,” I protested, believing it. He made it sound like it was settled and sealed.
Don't I have a say in this?
“I don't want to. I don't trust him. It's a trick, Kavenlow. Don't send me away! I don't want to leave Costenopolie!”

He turned from me, a hand brushing his silvering beard smooth as he looked across the bay and into nothing. “You aren't.”

Confused, I looked at my boat, then him.

“We agreed that taking you out of Costenopolie would be a mistake. Contessa relies heavily upon you, and inflicting you upon a new kingdom would be disastrous.” His eyes darted to mine, and he touched my nose. “You do tend to leave a trail of destruction, and a population not used to it might be appalled.”

“Kavenlow?” I warbled, my eyes going to the pile of trunks by the ramp. They were his, not Jeck's. I recognized them now.

“I'm leaving,” he said, not sounding at all apologetic. “It's all arranged. I'm taking Misdev, and Jeck will stay here in Costenopolie.”

Heart beating wildly, I grabbed his arm. “You can't! Why?”

Eyes pinched, he took my hands and held them in the comforting strength of his own. “Tess, forgive me for being selfish, but I'm bored. I've played all I can with Costenopolie. I want new pieces, new challenges. I'm not ready to leave the game, but there's nothing left for me here. It's become too easy. I'm becoming soft, complacent. And you?” Again he smiled, though I thought it was getting harder as the wrinkles about his eyes grew deeper. “Jeck can give you what I can't.”

I looked over Kavenlow's shoulder to Jeck. I didn't want him as a master. I was starting to like him, whether it was a silly-woman crush or not. And the thought of taking instruction from him and trying to hide my feelings was going to be a nightmare of embarrassment. Especially when he figured it out. Which he would. If he hadn't already. Chu pits, I would not have him knowing his words of comfort and his quiet understanding had meant that much to me!

“He doesn't like me,” I insisted, feeling it was a lost cause but having to protest. “Kavenlow, don't do this to me. I don't want to be his apprentice!”

“That's enough,” he said sharply, the first hint of metal in his voice. “I can't teach you anything more. You've taken everything I can give you. You've gone past me. Jeck can do what I cannot.” His eyes softened, and his hand touching my jawline trembled. “And I didn't just bring up a player, Tess. I raised a daughter, and I want her to be happy. You need love to be complete. You take your strength from it. And Jeck—”

I jerked my hand from his, covering Kavenlow's mouth, cold with the words he had almost said. The breeze off the bay swirled through my hair, tugging at it. Kavenlow smiled softly from behind his graying beard as he took my hand back in his own.

“He loves you, Tess,” he said gently, but it scared me nevertheless. “I never expected it to shift from respect to love, but it did, and I can see it as clearly as you can see it between Alex and Contessa.”

“No. He doesn't,” I said, my mouth dry and my stomach in knots. But a zephyr rose, whispering and buzzing in my ear, laughing cheerfully. I didn't listen to it, afraid what my subconscious was trying to tell me.

“With him, you can be a player,” Kavenlow said, and this time, his smile was laced with sadness. “He won't tell anyone about your punta bite if you're his apprentice. And God is my witness that I won't. You will have the ten years you need for your venom levels to drop.”

“But I . . .” I stammered.
Jeck loves me? He hardly knows me.
“Kavenlow . . .”

A bellowing shout drew his attention to the ramp. It was Captain Borlett, berating the crew for smacking Kavenlow's trunk into a piling. Kavenlow moved from the stacked wood with a relieved quickness. “Excuse me, Princess. I want to be sure they don't damage my things.

“Kavenlow!” I moved to follow, frightened. He was leaving. Right now!

His arms went around me, and he gave me a crushing embrace. The air fled from my lungs, and my eyes watered. Behind him, Contessa was watching from Alex's arm, smiling at us.

“It's all arranged,” Kavenlow whispered, seemingly unwilling to let go. “I'm going to Misdev under the guise of being the permanent ambassador as Contessa wishes. I'll be sending your ship back as soon as I get there. In reality, I will be taking over Jeck's game. Jeck's sovereign has permanently assigned him to the Costenopolie court in light of the recent abductions, and in truth he will be Costenopolie's player. We have a six-month grace period where no other player can interfere while we learn our pieces and settle in. Six months where you will go with absolutely no toxin or magic to evaluate how damaged your toxin tolerances are.”

The gulls wheeling above us cried, sounding like my heart breaking. “You've both settled this in a nice neat package,” I said, my voice harsh. “Don't I get a say?”

He pulled from me, his eyes tearing. “No. You can leave the game of course. But it would be a shame. The things you can do . . .” He hesitated, putting me at arm's length. “You will be one of the greatest players, Tess. I just don't know how Jeck is going to keep you under wraps as an emerging power.”

Hope mixed with heartache. I was going to be a player. I had lost nothing. Except Kavenlow.

My joy crashed as he let go of my hands and stepped away. I stiffened, suddenly realizing Jeck was standing behind him—waiting. I eyed him warily, my pulse quickening as I saw him still wearing his Misdev uniform. Apart from when I had been crying over Duncan, my heart wounded and my thoughts trying to find a way to heal the pain, he held himself distant. He was brusque, short, and sarcastic. I would swear he went out of his way to irritate me. His eyes were always on me, and usually there was a tight look of annoyance in them.

Understanding fell on me, washing the warmth of the sun away. He didn't
want
to love me. That was why he was so disagreeable.

Kavenlow saw my cold face and nodded, knowing I finally understood. “Good-bye, Tess,” he said, and my eyes widened. “I'll write you.”

“Kavenlow . . .” I struggled to say something, but my mind was blank.

“Take care of yourself,” he whispered, angling himself so Jeck couldn't see his moving lips. “And don't be too difficult with him. Give him time to figure out he can love and find strength in it, not failure. You can teach him that.”

He pulled from my numb grip. Visibly steadying himself, he faced Jeck. “Captain,” he said formally, nodding with a deep respect.

“Chancellor,” he responded, his low voice calm and confident.

Lump forming in my throat, I watched Kavenlow twist a ring off his finger and give it to him as a token of surrendering his position as Costenopolie's player. Jeck shifted his balance and put it on his finger. He hesitated in thought, then with a smile quirking his lips to ruin his stiff demeanor, he took off his gaudy hat and gave it to Kavenlow.

Kavenlow took a breath to protest, his brow furrowed. Jeck cocked an eyebrow, and Kavenlow collapsed in on himself, accepting it. He turned to me one last time. My mouth worked, but nothing came out. Smiling, he bowed his head for an instant before he turned and walked confidently to the ramp, the gaudy monstrosity of a hat crushed in his grip.

I sniffed loudly, stiffening when Jeck slid up beside me. We stood shoulder to shoulder, and I wondered what was going to happen. Suddenly nervous, I glanced at Jeck sideways.
He loves me?
“Captain.”

“Apprentice,” he replied, not looking at me but at the sparkling waves. Falling into a parade rest, he laced his hands behind his back, his feet spread wide and his head level. “If you ever try to change my memories again, I will slap you into next spring.”