“Captain.”
I offered him my hand. He took it, squeezed it, and then released it as he opened the door with his other hand. I eased out into the corridor, my hair a rat’s nest, my clothes damp, and my skin crusty with seed. Not an unusual state for me. Staring down the hall, I saw no one. I spun to ask Le’ral if he could direct me to my room, but his door was closed.
“Fukkate,” I whispered to the night.
HYLA WAS ASLEEP IN THE ARMCHAIRby the fire when I arrived back at my room after having a near encounter with a wandering guard by the royal library. After a short discussion, he escorted me to my rooms on a far-off wing of Avolire. Jokingly, I explained that I could navigate the sea but not a castle. He found no humor in my piratical humor. Why anyone took up with such dour folk as guards I would never grasp.
Prescott was awake. He turned to me when I entered, put a finger to his lips, and made a loud SHHHHH sound as he threw bits of bread over the railing. Hyla snored on, her cold pipe in her hand, a soft blanket draped over her. I removed my boots and went outside to sit on the wet balcony with Prescott. I had to adjust my arse a little as sitting on the hard stone was uncomfortable.
“What are you doing?” I asked as my back found the side of the castle.
“Feed gullies,” he said as he took a tiny bit for himself and tossed a small chunk to the balcony.
“Ah.” One of his favorite pastimes on land or sea. And oddly enough, or perhaps not so oddly, the birds seemed to have no fear of him. “The gullies are sleeping right now, so perhaps you should save your bread for the morn.”
“Oh-kay.” He tucked the half loaf into his pants. “Star words.” He pointed skyward as the rain clouds broke apart to expose a large opening in the dark sky.
“Very well. I need to go to bed,” I said, wiggling into the side of my protector, my head resting on his immense shoulder.
“You sleep. I watch.”
“Thank you, my friend.” I stared up, a hundred or so vying thoughts splashing about inside my head. Not only was I physically feeling my night of passion with Le’ral, but I was emotionally feeling it as well. An oddity I did not wish to explore. A lover in every port. That was the Cadere way. The sea was our paramour. Not a woman or a man or a poly of both. The ocean was all I would need. The lingering storm clouds blew away like northern rock climbers that bloomed just once per season, filling the shores of the Stormhold with white tufts of seed.
“Moon sisters,” he said, nudging me from my recollections of my icy homelands.
“Correct,” I replied as he jabbed at the sky with his finger. “And the band of stars that hug the moon sisters. Do you remember what they are named?”
“Sucker Fish!” He made a carp face so severe that it made me chuckle.
“Yes, the great white carp, Yola, who swims from the moon sisters to the east, where the world of fish who speak and tigers as big as mountains live.” Someday, when I had time to take a leisurely sail, I would venture east. None had visited the lands of the tiger mountains for several hundred seasons. Nor had any explored the uncharted lands to the northwest. “When we’re rich and safe from the navy, when all elves are fed and warm and happy, we’ll take the Cloud’s Shame and follow the path of the great white carp to those eastern lands.”
“You go me go.” He gazed down at me with worry.
“Always,” I assured him around a yawn, the sky now clear, the wind calm, as if the storm had never been. “At the tail of Yola, what dull red star is that?”
We played star words for so long my arse went numb, and my eyes dropped closed. Sleep, sorely needed, gently overtook me. Dreams of salty air, new lands, and golden fish with long whiskers who spoke in rhyme carried me through the night.
Coming awake to the sound of a half-troll speaking to a goodly dozen raucous gulls intruded on my sleep. Moving to my side, I saw I was still dressed from the night before, and someone had carried me to my bed and tucked me in. I sat up, the sun rising above the horizon, as Hyla blinked at me from her chair.
“Captain,” she grumbled. She was not an early-morning person. “I need a piss.”
I poked a thumb at the screen. “You’ll find a pot behind there.” Tossing my covers aside, I winced at the pull in my arse but stood anyway, stretching my arms over my head while my first mate clomped her way behind the changing screen. “How was he last night?”
“Ahh, oh, that is a relief.” She sighed from behind the screen. “Fine. Worried about you. Told him you were eating kippers and pasta with the king so he was not keen on coming to find you.”
Clever. Prescott disliked kippers greatly. “Good thinking.” I peeled off my grimy shirt just as she was coming out from behind the screen. “I think I’ll take a walk down to the port to speak to the shipwright directly after breaking our fast.”
“I can do that, Captain,” she said, shooting that idea in the foot. “Best you not be poking your head out amongst the sailors and navy men. You might find you come back without it.”
“Ah, well, you make a point. Ensure they start work immediately.”
“Aye, of course. The choppy seas will have settled now, so they should be able to get her sailed out of dock and into the shore by end of day. Tomorrow at the latest. Should I tell them the new prince of Melowynn commands them to service his vessel before any others?”
“Gullies, gullies, gullies!” I glanced over my shoulder just to check. Prescott was surrounded by gulls trying to peck his bare toes, for he had wedged soggy bread betwixt his stubby digits.
“Don’t mention that,” I replied and got a sly wink. “I willnotbe a prince.”
“Might be,” she said while making her way to the pull bell to give it a jerk.
