Ship of Destiny (55 page)

“Sir, could not you send . . .” Wintrow began pleadingly.

Kennit patted Etta’s hand heavily. She took the hint.

“Don’t whine, Wintrow,” she rebuked him. “It will do you no good to remain here and let Bolt torment you. She toys with you like a cat with a mouse, and you have not the sense to remove yourself. So Kennit is doing it for you. Come. You have a gift for smooth words, and will be able to pass this order on to Sorcor in such a way that he does not feel slighted.”

Kennit listened in admiration. She was so adept at making Wintrow seem both foolish and selfish for trying to oppose him. It must be a female talent. There had been a time when his mother had spoken to him like that, letting the edge of impatience show to convince him of his error. He thrust the memory from him. The sooner Paragon was gone, the better. Not for years had so many buried recollections stirred so uncomfortably in him.

Wintrow glanced uncertainly from one to the other. “But I had hoped to be there when Kennit met—”

“It would look as if we flaunted you as hostage. I wish them to see you are a willing member of my crew, unconstrained. Unless . . .” Kennit paused, and then gave Wintrow an odd look. “Did you wish to leave the ship? Are you hoping to go with them? For if that is your desire, you but have to speak it. They could take you back to Bingtown, or your monastery. . . .”

“No.” Even Etta looked surprised at how swiftly Wintrow replied. “My place is here. I know that now. I have no desire to leave. Sir, I would remain at your side, and be witness to the creation of the Pirate Isles as a recognized kingdom. I feel—I feel this is where Sa intended me to be.” He looked down at the deck silently for an instant. Then he met Kennit’s serious gaze again. “I’ll go to Sorcor, sir. Right now?”

“Yes. I’d like him to hold off where he is. Be sure he is clear on that. No matter what he sees, he is to let me resolve it.”

He watched after them as they hastened away, then took Wintrow’s place at the railing. “Why do you take such delight in tormenting the boy?” he asked the ship in amused tolerance.

“Why does he insist on bothering me with his fixation on Vivacia?” the ship growled in return. She flung her head around to stare at the oncoming
Paragon
. “What, exactly, was so marvelous about her? Why cannot he accept me in her stead?”

Jealousy? If he had had more time, it would have been an interesting possibility to explore. He rolled her questions aside with, “Boys always strive to keep things as they always have been. Give him time, he’ll come around.” Then he asked a question he had never dared before: “Can serpents sink a vessel? I don’t mean just batter it so it can’t sail; I mean send it all the way to the bottom?” He took a breath. “Preferably in pieces.”

“I don’t know,” she replied lazily. She turned her head, giving him her profile. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she asked him, “Would you like us to try?”

For a moment, his mouth could not find the shape of the word. Then, “Yes,” he admitted. “If it becomes necessary,” he added feebly.

Her voice dropped throatily. “Consider what you are asking. Paragon is a liveship, like myself.” She turned to stare across the water at the oncoming ship. “A dragon, kin to me, sleeps within those wooden bones. You are asking me to turn on my own kind, for your sake. Do you think I would do that?”

This sudden gaping hole in his plans nearly unmanned him. They were bringing the
Paragon
about and dropping anchor, just out of arrow range. They were not complete fools. He had to win her over, and swiftly.

“With me, you come before all others. Should you ask a similar sacrifice from me, I would not hesitate,” he promised her heartily.

“Really?” she queried him callously. “Even if it were Etta?”

“Without a pause,” he promised, refusing to let himself think.

“Or Wintrow?” Her voice had gone soft and knowing.

A knife twisted in him. How much did she truly read of his heart? He took a deep breath. “If you demanded it.” Would she? Could she insist he give him up? He pushed the thought aside. He’d talk her out of it. “I hope I hold as dear a place with you.” He tried to think of other fine words for her. Failing, he asked her instead, “Will you do it?”

“I think it’s time to tell you the price,” she countered.

The
Marietta
had taken up Wintrow’s small boat. Sorcor’s ship was veering off. Soon they would drop anchor at a discreet distance. He watched the routine of Sorcor’s crew and waited.

“When we are finished here, you will muster all your ships, every one that flies a raven flag. You and they will serve as escort for us. The serpents must travel north, far north, to a river mouth they scarcely remember, but one I have entered many times in my life as Vivacia. As we move north, we will seek to gather up other serpents. You will protect them from attacks from humans. When we reach the river, I shall take you up it, while your other ships guard the mouth of it. Well do I know that no ordinary wooden ship can accompany them on that migration. You will give to me, Kennit Ludluck, all that remains of this winter, all of spring, all your days until high summer and the sun’s full heat, as we aid the serpents in what they must do, and guard them through their helpless time. That is the price. Are you willing to pay it?”

In the naming of his name, she bound him. How had she known? Had she guessed? Then he glanced down at the small grinning charm on his wrist. Looking into features twin to his own, he knew his betrayer. The charm winked up at him.

“I, too, was once a dragon,” it said quietly.

There was so little time to think. For him to vanish with the serpents now for all those months might undo all he had built. Yet, he dared not refuse her this. Perhaps, he thought grimly, it would only add to his legend. The
Paragon
was lowering a small boat into the water. Althea Vestrit would be in it. That would never do. He dared not allow Althea on board the
Vivacia
. Bolt denied the connection, but Kennit would not take the chance. She had to be turned back and stopped now. He had taken Vivacia from Wintrow. He would not chance losing her to another.

“If I do as you ask, you will sink
Paragon?
” It was harder to ask now, for he knew that she knew all the reasons he desired Paragon to end.

“Tell me why you want him to be gone. Say the words.”

He took a breath and met her gaze. “I suppose my motives are the same as yours,” he said coldly. “You do not wish Althea to come aboard, for you fear she
would
‘bring you back to yourself.’” He lifted his eyes and stared at the
Paragon
. “There floats a piece of myself I could do without.”

“Then it seems wisest, for both of us,” she agreed coldly. “He is mad. I cannot count on him to aid us; worse, as a liveship, he could follow us up the river and oppose us. He can never fly again as a dragon. So let us put him out of his misery. And end your misery as well, while binding you to me. Only me.”

Jealousy. This time it was unmistakable. She would tolerate no rivals for his attention, let alone so potent a competitor as Paragon. In this also, they were alike. She tucked her chin to her chest and summoned the serpents. The sound she made was something Kennit more felt than heard. Their serpent escort had lagged behind them to hunt and feed, but at her call, they came swiftly. Kennit felt their response, and then the water around the bow boiled with serpents. An instant later a forest of attentive heads upon gracefully curved necks rose around them. The green-gold serpent from Others’ Island came to the front of the throng. When Bolt paused, the serpent opened her jaws and roared something back at her. Bolt threw back her head and sang. Her voice battled against a wind that promised a storm to come. There were several exchanges of moans, bellows and high, thin cries between the two. Two other serpents added their voices as well. Kennit grew restless. This had to be a discussion of Bolt’s orders. That had not happened before. He did not think it auspicious, but dared not interrupt her with a question. His own crew was now listening and watching curiously. He glanced down to his hands gripping the railing, and saw the small face at his wrist staring up at him. He brought the charm close to his face.

“Do they oppose her?” he demanded of it.

“They question the necessity. She Who Remembers thinks Paragon might be useful to them alive. Bolt counters that he is both mad and a servile tool of the humans aboard him. Shreever asks if they may eat him for his memories. Bolt opposes this. She Who Remembers demands to know why. Now Maulkin asks if the ship holds knowledge she wishes to keep from the serpents.”

Bolt was visibly angry now. Behind him, Kennit was aware of the gawking of his crew. Never before had the serpents hesitated in obeying Bolt’s orders. Without turning his head, he warned Jola, “The men to their posts.” The mate obeyed, sending them running.

“What do they say?” he demanded of the charm again.

“Use your eyes,” was the whispered retort. “They go to obey her.”

BRASHEN HAD REMAINED ON BOARD PARAGON. IT DID NOT SEEM
wise for both of them to leave the ship, and Althea could not bear to be so close to Vivacia and not speak to her. In the boat with her, Haff and Jek bent to their oars. Lop, clutching a mooring line, sat in the bow and stared grimly ahead. Althea sat stiffly in the stern seat. She was freshly washed and hastily attired in the same clothes she had worn when the
Paragon
had left Bingtown. She resented the weight of the split skirt, but the occasion called for some formality, and these were the best clothes she possessed. Indeed, of all her garments, these were the only ones still remotely presentable. The chill winter wind tugged hopefully at her plaited and pinned hair. She hoped Kennit would not see her attempt at formality as hiding behind feminine garb. He had to take her seriously.

She turned the scroll in her hands and stared at their destination. On the foredeck of her beloved Vivacia, a single figure stood. His dark blue cloak flapped in the wind and he stood hip-shot, all his weight on one leg. It had to be Kennit. Before she had left Paragon’s deck, there had been others with him. She had thought that one young man might be Wintrow. She could not claim to recognize him, but the figure’s dark hair and stance put her in mind of her father. Could it have been him? If it was, where had he gone? Why did Kennit alone await her?

Reflexively, she glanced back at Paragon. She could see Brashen standing anxiously on the foredeck. Clef stood beside him, hands on his hips in unconscious mimicry of his captain. Amber’s hair blew like silk strands in the wind, and her set face made her a second figurehead. Paragon, arms crossed and jaw set, stared sightlessly toward Vivacia. There was a terrible finality in the brace of his muscles. He had not spoken a word to anyone since Vivacia came into sight. When Althea had dared to reach out and touch his muscular shoulder, she had found it set and hard as wood. It was like touching the tensed back of a snarling dog.

“Don’t be afraid,” she had told him softly, but he had made no reply.

A composed Amber sitting on the railing beside her had shaken her head. “He’s not afraid,” she had said in a low voice. “The anger that burns in him destroys every other emotion.” Amber’s hair lifted slightly in the rising wind and she had spoken in a distant voice. “Danger cups us under its hand, and we can do nothing but stand witness to the turning of the world. Here we walk on the balancing line between futures. Humanity always believes it decides the fate of the whole world, and so it does, but never in the moment that it thinks it does. The future of thousands ripples like a serpent through the water, and the destiny of a ship becomes the destination of the world.”

She turned to look at Althea with eyes the color of brandy in firelight. “Can’t you feel it?” she asked her in a whisper. “Look around you. We are on the cusp. We are a coin spinning in the toss, a card fluttering in the flip, a rune chip floating in stirred water. Possibilities swarm like bees. In this day, in a moment, in a breath, the future of the world will shift course by a notch. One way or another, the coin will land ringing, the card will settle to the table, the chip will bob to the surface. The face that shows uppermost will set our days, and children to come will say, ‘That is just the way it has always been.’”

Her voice dwindled away, but Althea had a sense of the wind carrying the words around the world. Her scalp prickled. “Amber? You’re frightening me.”

Amber had turned a slow and beatific smile on her. “Am I? Then you grow wise.”

Althea did not think she could bear the steady gaze of those eyes. Then Amber blinked at her and saw her again. Then she had hopped from the railing to the deck, dusting her bare hands on the seat of her pants before drawing on her gloves. “It’s time for you to go,” she announced. “Come. I’ll help you with your hair.”

“Watch over Paragon for me,” Althea had asked quietly.

“I would like to.” Amber’s long-fingered hand caressed the railing. “But today is a day he must face alone.”

Now, Althea looked back from the ship’s boat and wished Amber had come with her. She tightened her grip on the scroll she held and wondered again if Kennit would be swayed by the carefully penned offer. He had to be! Everything she had heard of this man spoke of a resolute intelligence coupled with great foresight. He had hung out a truce flag of his own, so he was open to negotiation. He would at least hear her out. Even if he loved Vivacia, perhaps especially if he loved Vivacia, he would see that returning her to her family in exchange for vastly profitable trade agreements was in everyone’s best interest. Suddenly, Amber lifted a finger and pointed ahead of Althea. At the same instant, Lop gave a wild cry, echoed by Haff who dropped his oar and came halfway to his feet. Althea swiveled her head to see where Amber pointed and froze where she sat.

The sea around Vivacia’s bow boiled with serpents. Head after glittering head lifted from the depths until a forest of serpents stood abruptly between them and her ship. Althea’s heart near jumped out of her mouth. In the boat, Haff crouched and babbled, while Jek demanded, “Do we go back?” Lop crawled through the boat and took up Haff’s oar hopefully. Althea could not find words. She had to do something. To have come so far only to see Vivacia perish before her eyes. Yet what happened next was even worse.