Outdoor work is harder than I expected. Not that sailing is a lark, you understand; I didn’t get this strapping barrel of a chest without hard graft. Gardening is a pleasurable change of pace.They might be lean and wiry, but they’re surprisingly strong. I watch them surreptitiously. There’s not much muscle there, but clearly determination.
‘Do you think Narra’s setting all the guests to work?’ I ask, when there’s a lull in the rhythm of our bending and gathering.
‘Those without goods to barter,’ Isagani replies, wiping sweat off their face. ‘It’s not unusual.’
I quirk an eyebrow, leaning on my shovel.
Isagani’s face turns red, and not just from the exertion.
‘You’ve stayed here before.’
Isagani returns to their tasks with spirit.
‘Not under this guise, I wager, but you have.’
‘Better than in an alleyway marinating in piyata cider,’ they say through gritted teeth, just low enough that I can hear them.
My head begins to swim as if I were back there. Oh yes, I’ve spent many unforgettable nights at The Painted Tankard. Or rather, memorable if I’d not obliterated myself on palm liquor and ciders of all varieties. When I came back to Paranish I saw no reason to break with tradition. It comes back to me, the strong wiry frame on the dirty-faced waif.You all right, stranger?
That numb hazy sensation when you feel a bit distant from it all. Like your experiences belong to you but don’t affect you. So drunk I can’t piss straight? Not my problem. At least, that’s future me’s problem. Waking up in a stranger’s bed? Better than sleeping alone. Too many bitter ends to a game of Soklan to count. A hat to keep the sun and wind off. A cutlass to slice my enemies in twain. Even the scabbard can do some damage if absolutely necessary. And then, of course, a dagger in my boot, although you’ve got to watch your step lest you slice off a toe. None of that now – everything was taken off me when I was arrested. I’ve grown used to them always being on my personfor years and I feel naked without them. These merchant adornments don’t sit right.
‘Hey,’ I say gently. ‘There’s no shame in it. We all need a warm bed and a fully belly; those without the means to pay, as much as those who do.’
‘I have the means to pay,’ Isagani says, defiance in their eyes. A flock of birds is startled from a nearby tree, and they lower their voice. ‘I make my way honestly, when I can. I don’t like to have to steal, you know?’
‘I know,’ I say. ‘We all do what we can.’
A moment rests between us as the sun peeks over the inn’s roof and lights up the garden. Isagani wipes some dirt from a bunch of leafy greens. ‘What have you done – to get by?’
‘It’s what I’ve done to other people,’ I say after a moment. ‘Stealing mementos, stealing lives. Everyone has their price; smuggling taught me that.’
Isagani stares at me. ‘And how much is a life worth?’
‘How much is it worth to you?’ I counter. ‘You were fairly willing to put your neck out for some random pirate on the gallows.’
The air is thick between us, and we toil again, neither of us wanting to push for more, lest we push each other away. Alliances between outlaws often dance on a knife’s edge.
‘I didn’t realise you were the same man I found in the alleyway. I was there plain as everyone else to watch a good hanging.’ I snort a laugh, and they crack a smile. ‘But then they said your name. I’d heard stories about that man, a smuggler who could take people away from Paranish. Before the ports were open, that’s what you did, wasn’t it?’
I sigh. ‘Aye, everyone has their price.’
‘We thought about leaving, but it was never the right time,’ Isagani says. ‘There is no right time,’ they add. Their eyes are shiny and they quickly wipe at their face again.
They once had someone to dream with, to weave a future with. A hope powerful enough that their memory was the catalyst. I fiddle with my mother’s compass in my pocket, and I suppose I know a little about the power of a person’s memory to shape a life.
‘I fucked up,’ I confess. ‘My last voyage cost the lives of several sailors. I didn’t do my duty. My crew couldn’t forgive me for that, and I don’t blame them.’
They only held off a mutiny so we could make it back to Lassair in one piece. Left me with my wreck of a ship to seek better fortunes.Saltsweptwasn’t the only patched-up shadow of its former self that sailed back to Paranish when news arrived of the ports opening.
Isagani nods, their face set with grim determination. ‘I’m sorry that happened,’ they say, their words so diplomatic it’s almost amusing.
I go to stroke my beard and then falter at the smooth cheeks of my merchant disguise. ‘Why are you so Aistra-bent on leaving Paranish?’ I ask eventually.
There’s a desperate hope in their eyes. It gnaws at my insides. ‘Nothing worth staying for,’ Isagani confesses after a long pause. ‘I’ve heard stories about other places, better places. Fancied a change. The world’s big, and I intend to see it.’
chapter fourteen
hanan
