He picked at the breakfast for the crew, drinking more water than actually eating anything. He had a pounding headache, and all he wanted was to be at their home in the palace, A’bbni safely by his side. He reported with the rest of the crew on deck, and Deana’nen gave them their assignments.
Shi’chen would have given everything he owned in the world to have A’bbni next to him, holding his hand, as he forced himself over by the railing to grab a coil of rope the riggers had asked him for. The splash of water against the wooden planks that were the only thing keeping them from plunging leagues into the dark water made his skin crawl, and he swallowed back another wave of nausea. Trying not to look over the side, he grabbed the coil of rope the riggers had indicated, staring instead at his feet, where they were planted on solid ground, or as close to solid ground as they would be for a while. Dizziness made him stumble, and he turned without looking, his shoulder crashing into a firm chest. His eyes moved upward to see a bulky goblin man with a very square jaw glowering at him.
“Watch where you’re going, bitch,” the goblin snapped in Hanen-shii, giving him a sharp shove that sent him staggering several steps back. Distracted from dizziness, Shi’chen narrowed his eyes at the man.
“Don’t touch me.”
The man laughed loudly, throwing his head back. “Who do you think you are, giving orders, kid?”
If this man had been one of his guards, Shi’chen would have taken him to the ground immediately. But he was new on this ship and trying to not draw attention to himself. “I apologize,” he said stiffly.
“You don’t sound too sorry,” the man said, giving him a small, cold smile. “Where I come from, we expect children to respect their betters.”
“Where I’m from, we only respect those who deserve it,” Shi’chen said before he could stop himself.
A few whistles and jeers came from some of the nearby sailors, and Shi’chen realized with a sudden pit in his stomach that their exchange was gathering the attention of a small crowd. Damn it to the gods, why did that keep happening to him when he got into an argument?
The goblin raised one heavy eyebrow at him. “You need some lessons in manners, pup. Get down on your knees and kiss my boot, and I’ll forget this whole thing happened.”
“Not a fucking chance,” Shi’chen snapped, narrowing his eyes.
“Hah, puppy has some teeth,” the large man snickered. “Come on then, show me what you got.”
Shi’chen was sorely tempted to rearrange the goblin’s teeth, but he could hear A’bbni in his ear, warning him to not get into trouble. He hiked up the coil of rope over his shoulder, giving the man a look down his nose, despite the big goblin being at least a foot taller than him. “You’re not worth my time.”
The sailors nearby let out another hoot of laughter. The man glowered. “Why you sonofa—”
He hadn’t even finished his threat before he sprang forward, trying to land a punch on Shi’chen’s face. Shi’chen saw it coming and ducked away. What he did not see coming was another goblin moving up behind him, the second man’s fist blindsiding him across the temple. He saw white, stumbling forward, which gave the first goblin a chance to connect his fist to Shi’chen’s jaw, sending him sprawling. The next moment, a foot connected with his chest, causing him to double up, before another kick landed on his back, and suddenly there were fists and boots raining down on him from all directions as more sailors joined in the skirmish. His arms went up to protect his face, several blows finding his ribs and legs.
A shout from nearby drew the sailors’ attention, one of the senior crew members yelling something in Cserethian that Shi’chen did not understand or even pay attention to. The group around him backed off and dispersed back to their duties. The first goblin spat a gobby mouthful of spit at Shi’chen’s feet and gave him a final kick with his boot before strolling away. Shi’chen debated not moving ever again, just staying curled up in a ball on the deck of this ship for the rest of his life. He coughed softly as he struggled to pull in a breath, uncurling his arms from his face. He knew he had to get up. He couldn’t lie here and look weak, even though that was all he wanted to do.
A pair of worn leather boots hit the planks in front of him with a softthump. Shi’chen lifted his eyes up a pair of slender legs in light breeches, past a clean but faded blue jerkin and white shirtsleeves, into a tanned face that peered down at him. It took him a moment to focus on the face against the brilliant blue of the sky. Eyes the color of springtime grass peered down at him from a delicately-curved face, strands of brilliant blond hair escaping from a high ponytail.
“You all right?”
The accent was strange to Shi’chen’s ears, and it took a moment for him to process the Cserethian words. He blinked, trying to get his arms under him to push himself up. The elf bent and extended a calloused hand to him. After a moment of hesitation, Shi’chen took it, and the stranger helped pull him to his feet. The world swam a moment as the blood rushed back to his head, and he felt some of it dripping from his split lip.
The elf let go of his hand and dug in his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief and holding it out to him. He said something that Shi’chen did not understand. Shi’chen blinked. “What?” he asked in Hanen-shii. The stranger repeated what he had said, a little slower, and Shi’chen shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand you.”
A wrinkle furrowed the stranger’s brow. “You don’t speak Cserethian?” he asked in slightly accented Hanen-shii.
Shi’chen shook his head. “No,” he said back in Cserethian. One of the few words he knew.
The elf held up the fabric again for him, motioning to his lip. Shi’chen took it, and the elf smiled, the look lighting up his face. Shi’chen pressed the cloth to his lip, feeling the sting of salt on the torn flesh.
The elf watched him a moment before pointing to himself. “Lai.”
“Cha’she,” Shi’chen replied after a moment to remember his alias, motioning to himself with his free hand.
“Cha’she,” the elf repeated, the name a little odd-sounding in his accented voice.
Shi’chen held out the cloth back to the elf, but Lai shook his head, motioning for him to keep it. “Are you all right?” he asked in Hanen-shii.
Shi’chen nodded slowly. “Yes,” he replied. “Thank you.”
The blond motioned for him to follow him, and Shi’chen moved to obey, not wanting to be left alone on the deck where the other sailors had just kicked the shit out of him. Lai scooped up the coil of rope Shi’chen had been carrying, tossing it over his shoulder with practiced ease as he moved down the deck toward the bow of the ship. Shi’chen kept his eyes on the back of Lai’s blond ponytail that whipped around the young man’s face as they walked. He quickly assessed his throbbing chest and back, determining nothing was broken. He sent up a quick prayer to whomever might be listening that A’bbni was not on a ship where the same thing could happen to him. Shi’chen had been hit numerous times in guard training; A’bbni had not, and even the thought of it happening made his blood boil.
Lai moved over to one of the masts, yelling something up to another sailor above them who answered back, and Lai tossed the coil of rope up to him before he turned to Shi’chen again, gesturing for the goblin to keep following. He moved over to a large, covered barrel that was secured to the wall, pulling off the lid and picking up one of the tin cups hooked to the wall next to it. He dipped it in the barrel and handed it to Shi’chen. It was filled with water, and he took it gratefully, taking a few large swallows, and then using a bit to wipe the blood off his chin where it had started to dry from his lip.
