I lean against the mast, arms folded. No one has signed a word for a good five minutes. This is one of my tactics. I call these pre-sailing meetings every night before we shove off. No matter how long we’ve been in port, there are always stories to swap and catching up to happen on whatever shenanigans the crew got up to while in Dennow. This is the last wharf in Tenvrath, so it’s one of the rare times we can dock and all disembark. I wait, letting them talk until the conversations have exhausted themselves. Until all eyes are on me.
“I’m going to get right to the point.” I bring my hand to my chest, smooth it over the palm of the other, and then press the fingertips into the palm. Even in Dennow, protected by its three lighthouses and far from the Gray Passage, we keep cotton in our ears outside of thick-walled buildings with heavy doors and people to watch over us. Cotton ismandatoryon ships north of the narrow river that cuts through the dark forests to the south and connects to the seas beyond. Even those who can’t hear without the cotton still pack their ears tightly with it. Paranoia runs deep with sailors and some have claimed that siren song is the one thing that deaf ears can hear. I believe it, since, even with cotton-packed ears, I hear singing in the back of my mind. “Lord Kevhan has asked us to do a north run.”
There are worried looks, some frantic hands asking me “Why?” and “Please elaborate.”
I happily oblige. “As I’m sure you’ve all heard, the land route Tenvrath is trying to build through the middle mountains isn’t panning out, at least not as quickly as desired. There’s a massive backlog of silver waiting to be delivered.” I hope it’s a large enough backlog that my payout percentage from the cargo will be breathtaking. “We’re departing at dawn. Three weeks up, three weeks back.” It should give me enough time left over to settle everything before the siren comes to collect me. “It’s an aggressive run under normal circumstances and we will be pushing hard to fight against the tides this time of year. And I know, I said last time was the last time. But I promise you this will be it. Iswear, this is the final time I’ll ever do the north run and risk your lives in the passage.”
There are some private discussions. People turn their backs to me to exchange words unseen and then turn back around. Arms cross. Feet shift. Discomfort and unease become palpable in the air.
I take a breath, bracing myself before continuing. “While our crew has never had incidents before, a ship recently went down. Goingisa risk to your lives, one you all know better than any other sailors. A risk you don’t have to take. I’ll give you the same choice I give every time before this run: you can stay ashore. I’ll talk with Lord Applegate and find you work within the trading company until we return. And,whenwe do return, you’ll still have a place on this ship if you still want it.”
When I finish, it’s complete stillness. There are a few worried glances. A nod or two reassure me. This lot is tough as nails.
All my crew has escaped some kind of hardship and misfortune. There are women and men who fled from their own partners—situations much worse than I was in with Charles. There are daughters and sons who escaped from homes filled with hate and depravity. Some I freed from debtors’ prisons like the ones I’m trying to spare my family from.
The siren gave me an opportunity to live on past when my story should have ended. I was given a second chance. As deserving, or not, as I might have been. So I’ve made it my mission to try and share my fortune with others in need of the same.
Jivre, my reliable first mate, steps forward. I knew she would. Like me, she speaks with her hands. “You wouldn’t ask this lightly. There’s another reason for the north run, isn’t there?”
I hesitate. They’re all waiting on me. These men and women who have put their life in my hands, given me their faith, their livelihoods. I owe them the complete truth after all we’ve been through. Plus…most of them know the rumors. It’s only out of respect for me that nothing from the streets of Dennow is repeated on my ship.
“As you all probably know…I’ve been working on…” My hands still. I struggle for words. “Resolving a matter in my past,” I say finally. I shake my head.Stop being a coward, Victoria. I know the rumors and names they call me are just petty words and I should ignore them. Yet they stick to me. I continue to project bravery I don’t entirely feel. I don’t have the luxury of slowly processing, of wallowing in the news—I never have. I keep moving forward. “As most of you know—Who am I kidding?Allof you know, I was married. It was a decision I made and it ran its course. It’s been done for a long time in spirit and, as of today, it’s done legally as well.”
Smiles all around. Some cheers and clapping. I try to give them an encouraging smile in return. This crew really does want the best for me. Most of them have their own marks against them in the eyes of society. If anyone would know what I’m going through, it’s them.
I really don’t deserve this lot.
“However, for breaking the terms and expectations of the marriage contract, the council has demanded I pay back the investment Tenvrath made in me as a lighthouse attendant’s wife, as well as a final sum to Charles for his suffering.”
“Final sum of what?” Maree, my crow’s nest spotter, asks.
“Twenty thousand crons.”
“Twenty thousand…” Jivre repeats.
“Twenty thousand?” Maree balks. The rest of the crew joins her in her shock. Hands move almost too fast for eyes to keep up.
“Enough, enough.” Jivre calms them and looks back to me. “How are you going to come up with the money?” It’s a marvelous question, one I’ve been thinking of the answer to for hours.
“The north run is a few thousand to the captain, usually.”
Jivre scoffs. “There’s no way. Not after what we’re paid.”
I finally admit my long-standing secret. “I…usually cut my pay into a third.”
“What?” Lynn, a deckhand, signs slowly.
“I wanted you all to reap the benefits of your labors. I always felt my pay was far too much. But this time I might—I will keep it all,” I admit with some guilt. It’s what I must do…but I hate not to give them all I can. “Beyond that, I have some things in my cabin that I can sell. There’s a little bit squirreled away—”
“We know you don’t have anything of real value squirreled away.” Jivre shakes her head. “Especially not now knowing how you pay us, what you give to your family,andthe payments you’ve been forced to make to that man for years. It’s a wonder you have anything at all.”
“I do havesomething,” I say in defense. A hundred crons is technically “something.”
“Take my share.”
“Jivre—”
“Mine too.” Maree steps forward.
