The killing of gaza, p.1
Seashimmer's Choice (The Seashimmer Chronicles, #1), page 1
SEASHIMMER'S CHOICE
Book 1 of the Seashimmer Chronicles
WENDY METCALFE
COPYRIGHT © 2025 WENDY Metcalfe
Wendy Metcalfe has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subject purchaser.
All the characters in this publication are fictional and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No AI (Artificial Intelligence) has been used in the writing of this publication. Without in any way limiting the author's exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to 'train' generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to licence uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine language learning models
First published in the United Kingdom 2025 by Wendy Metcalfe
Contents
SEASHIMMER'S CHOICE
WENDY METCALFE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER ONE
DANETHA WINDHAMMER watched her footing as she crossed the deck. She was aboard the family lizardship Iceforged. He was a three-master, and they had too much sail up for this blow.
The ship was a few days out of Magnar Harbour, on the coast of the Southern Dominion. They were riding the Southern Island Current towards the Marisol Isles. The winds were usually steady at this season, but at Forenoon Watch an unexpected storm had blown up. Danetha had been dragged from her bed to help reduce sail.
She was a wealthy dwarf Trader's elder daughter, but she dressed like a common deckhand. She had cut her dark brown hair to the level of her jaw several years ago. It had been the first of Danetha's rebellions against her mother's plans for her.
The voice of the Captain, her father Kiboth, came to her from the foredeck. "Can you not stop this blow, Iceforged?" he shouted.
The ship's figurehead turned and looked down on him. His visage was that of a noble dwarf, with hair swept back off his brow, and a neat pointed beard. He wore a heavy cloak which swathed his torso. His magic gave him a permanently frosty look, and made him appear to be clad in silver.
"I am doing my best, Captain," the ship replied. "Even lizardship magic has its limits. My power cannot defeat the ocean. And it is angry today."
Danetha had been aboard Iceforged since she was ten years old, and had many years' experience of handling the ship. She took up her station by the mainmast, ready to haul on the sheet. The deck pitched and rolled beneath her feet, and the heightening waves foamed white as they crashed over the bowsprit.
Her best friend Sammol Blackwind was beside her. They were opposites in all ways; Danetha's family wealthy, Sammol's less so. Danetha's face was white as the winter moon. Sammol's features were black as the moonless night.
Skylar Icecracker shuffled into place on the other side of the mainmast. The Sailmaster was not the best she had met, and had made life very hard for her when she first came aboard. He had been out to prove that the Captain's daughter would not make a good sailor. She had set out to prove him wrong, and had succeeded.
Recently his harshness had returned, and Danetha suspected that was Kiboth's doing. Her father wished to persuade her to leave Iceforged. She had refused to do so.
"Haul!" Skylar gave the command and Danetha lent her strength to the rest of her team to grasp the thick sheet and ease the sail down the mast. They were the first sail set, and that gave her great satisfaction. Let her father tell her she wasn't an efficient sailor now. He would have to try harder than that to justify taking her off Iceforged.
Now the ship pitched less, but the spray and cold wind still whipped across the deck. "Let us get out of this cold," she said to Sammol. "A cup of hot tea would be welcome now."
"That it would," he replied.
They clattered down the gangway to the mid-deck, their boots raising a hollow thud on the timbers. Lizardwood was far more durable than any other wood the shipwrights used. Lizardships endured for many generations, while the hardest hardwood tree ships rotted and failed.
The galley was busy with the rest of their watch. Having been woken from their beds, all needed warmth and sustenance before seeking their slumbers again. Danetha poured a mug of tea from the kettle suspended on its hook. Garil was the cook on duty, and had brewed a new kettle as soon as the order to stand down was given. The old dwarf had skin of polished mahogany, the nearest anyone on Iceforged's permanent crew came to having black skin.
She thanked him for his foresight, and went to join Sammol on the end of the table. There was always a gap between the crew and Sammol. They were happy to give him orders, but not to be his friend.
Danetha curled her chilled hands around her warm mug and took a sip of the tea. Her eyes widened in surprise. This was not the usual rough Kavit blend, but taken from the ship's precious stores of best Arylin leaf. It had the subtle but delicate taste of honey, and the hint of a scent of southern blossoms.
Her father would chastise Garil for this later. The old cook would shrug off the reprimand, as he had thousands of others. Garil knew what made a happy ship. Sometimes better than her father.
She drank in silence, and as soon as she was finished departed for her cabin. Sammol left the galley then too. Danetha did not miss the unfriendly gazes of the crew as he passed them. She had the privilege of her own cabin here. Sammol was bunked in what used to be a store. He slept alone too.
"It is for his safety," Kiboth had said when he made the arrangement. Danetha had thought it was rather more to avoid Sammol 'corrupting' the ship's crew. Her father was more than willing to make use of Sammol's strong back and excellent sailing skills, but rather less willing to acknowledge his equal status.
She had become Sammol's friend the moment she had heard that he too desired no children, and found the idea of joining his body to another's just as distasteful as she did. With Sammol she knew she was always safe.
Sammol was a 'prentice, and Danetha lived in dread for the day Kiboth considered Sammol's 'prenticeship complete, and threw him off the ship. There was no prospect of Sammol ever joining the ship's crew as a deckhand.
She reached her cabin and opened the door. "Good sleep, Sammol," she wished him. He nodded, and passed on by. Danetha went inside quickly, shutting the door on his retreating back. She did not wish to see his lonely figure stride down the cramped access to his tiny prison. He did not wear a slave's collar or mark, but he might as well have done, for all the respect he garnered from the ship's crew.
She took off her boots and sank onto her bunk. She had long ago learned to sleep at any hour, and instantly oblivion took her.
She woke before eight bells, and went to the galley to down a mug of tea– the rough Kavit blend this time – and eat a dish of hearty porridge for sustenance. The storm had blown itself out. The deck was level, barely moving beneath her feet.
She finished her breakfast as eight bells sounded, and came up on deck in time to hear the Officer of the Watch's report. The storm had died down some hours ago, and the Southern Island Current was steady in its course again. She knew that would not last much longer. The first smudges of the Marisol Isles were visible on the horizon. Soon the ship would near the Zellen Race, and all crew would be needed on deck again.
But for this moment, Danetha had nothing to do but trim sail. They had been set efficiently by the opposite watch, and for now most needed no tending. The day was bright, and soon the noon sight would be done.
She looked towards the bow. Ice's head was washed with gold from Yareli's rays, showing off the waves of his thick hair. His head turned from side to side as the ship sliced through the water. His features were somewhat between the smooth flesh of a dwarf and the harsher angles of carved wood.
Danetha picked her way carefully between the coiled ropes and chests, and came up beside the figurehead. "How is the race?" she asked.
"Quiet, for once." His deep voice did not carry its usual calm. "Danetha, I am concerned about the Captain. My senses tell me he is failing. He feigns strength, but I can see he has none."
She thrust down her panic. Kiboth's coughing fits had started two years ago, and each winter they grew worse. He tried to spend most of his time sailing the warm waters of the Southern Dominion, but even owning a lizardship had not made him one of the most desired Traders to deal with. Often he was forced back to the coast of the Northern Alliance, with it
"I do not want to think about that," she said.
The figurehead looked down at her. His grey eyes skewered her, their gaze the look of one with many generations of experience. "You must. Plan carefully, Danetha. Both you and Sammol are at risk when Kiboth dies."
"What do you mean?"
"We will talk of this later." A warning note was in the figurehead's voice. Now Danetha heard the thud of feet coming towards her. They had a distinctive one-two gait, the sound of a person with a limp.
"What are you doing bothering my ship?" Kiboth's voice was rough.
She turned to face him. "The sails did not require tending for a moment, so I came to view the approaches."
"More likely to poison the mind of my lizardship. Back to your post, sailor."
Danetha flinched at his words. Her father had never been affectionate to her in the way he was with her brothers, but to rebuke his daughter as a common sailor...
She stepped past him and returned to her post at the mainmast. Umutt was waiting there, and she braced for another rebuke from the First Mate. It did not come.
"Your father is ill," he said quietly. "It has made his mood bleak. I will be seeking out Thonar Bonehealer as soon as we make port at Sang."
"I would prefer he saw Mergild Armsetter. She at least knows her profession."
Umutt sighed, and she saw weariness in the old dwarf's blue eyes. "We would all rather your father did not have his prejudices," he said. She stared at him. For a First Mate to criticise his captain was unheard of. Yet she knew Umutt was loyal to Kiboth. "I cannot go against my Captain's wishes, even if those wishes might hasten his death."
"You think he might die here?" Fear made Danetha's voice wobble.
"I think the help of your Aunt Avora will be needed to prevent that."
"I will go and fetch her the moment we heave to," she said.
There was no more time for talk. The ship was approaching the Zellen Race, and it was time to furl sail. Danetha's arms ached with the repeated hauling and furling of sails. Everyone would be glad to get into port and rest.
The crew finished furling sails as the old navigator Gundur Windspeaker stepped up beside the figurehead. They were bound for the port of Sang this day, and Gundur would guide them in. The next hours were filled with setting and re-setting sails for their approach to the harbour. By the time Iceforged nudged up to the quay Danetha felt her usual exhaustion.
In the frenzy of getting the ship into her berth she had not noticed that her father was absent from the deck. That was not usual.
Umutt came to her side. "I will send Skylar to summon Thonar Bonehealer. We will be lodging at the Resthouse, whatever your father's objections. Find your Aunt Avora and bring her there. Tell her it is a worsening of the usual trouble."
The lines were secured to the quay, and Sammol joined the crew to heave the gangplank into place. Its heavy end thudded onto the cobbles of the quay. They had been fortunate to secure a berth right on the quayside, and the Mariner's Guild Resthouse was opposite their berth.
"Go," Umutt said to Danetha the moment the gangplank was set.
"May I take Sammol with me?" she asked. She hated having to ask that, but she had been bothered by unsavoury attention here before.
"You may," Umutt replied.
"Thank you." Danetha turned to her friend. "We are going to find Aunt Avora," she told him. He nodded but said nothing, following her down the gangplank.
She set foot on the quay and turned to her right. She wore her lightest breeches and shirt, but still sweat slicked her back.
They rounded the end of the Resthouse and started the climb up the road. The sweat on Danetha's back was sticky. This was a discomfort she would never be able to live with.
What had made her think of that? Her home was in Dimiel, on the southern coast of the Northern Alliance. The sprawling old house on the headland above the harbour had been handed down through the Windhammers for five generations.
But things would be mightily changed upon Kiboth's death. And however much she might wish to deny it, in her heart, Danetha knew that his end was near.
CHAPTER TWO
THE THOUGHT OF HER father's impending demise put urgency into Danetha's steps. She reached the narrow street of high buildings which ran along the back of the Resthouse, and turned along it. Avora's apartment was on the top story of a handsome building part-way down the street. She reached it and opened the gate which gave access to the garden beyond, and the stairs.
Sammol had hung back at the entrance, and she turned to him and said, "Follow me." Was her friend reluctant to enter this fine building? Over the years they had sailed together she had become attuned to his feelings about his family's station. The Blackwinds were fine sailors and Traders, but the darkness of their skin encouraged some Merchants to place their business elsewhere.
Still, Sammol's father was a member of the Mariner's Guild. They had not excluded him, like they had tried to do to several female captains.
Danetha climbed the steps to the upper level, her boots thudding on the heavy timbers. She came out onto the balcony which gave a view over the lush garden. She walked to her left until she came to the door with the ornate number one affixed to it. As she was about to knock on the door it opened.
Aunt Avora greeted Danetha with a smile. Her pale skin was framed by long wavy white hair. She was dressed in light breeches and a short-sleeved smock. "I saw that Iceforged was in port," she said. "How bad is your father?"
Danetha was startled by her Aunt's words. How did she know that her father was ill? "Umutt said to tell you that it is a worsening of the usual trouble."
Avora nodded, as if that was the answer she'd expected. "Then we will need my herbs." She reached behind her, to the hide pack placed ready in the hallway, and hauled it over her shoulders.
"Umutt said Kiboth would be at the Resthouse."
"Umutt has sense," Avora replied. "Let us hurry." She closed the door and led them down the stairs. "Has a physician been called?"
"Thonar Bonehealer," Danetha replied.
Her aunt's only response to that was a grunt. It confirmed Danetha's suspicion that Thonar was a quack. If I were ill I would want the best care I could buy, she thought, whether that skill was wielded by a man's or a woman's hand. What stupidity was a prejudice which might hasten your death.
They reached the Resthouse in swift time, Avora striding out along the cobbles of the quay. When they arrived in the fine timbered lobby of the building it was to learn that Kiboth had arrived mere minutes before.
"Stupid man," Avora muttered. "He has an excellent and trustworthy crew, yet he lingers to see to the cargo."
Danetha was shocked by her aunt's words, then realised she was right. She applied herself to the task at hand and approached the desk built of intricate wooden layers, with its greeter in traditional dark blue sailor's uniform behind it. She drew herself up and said, "I am Danetha Windhammer. I must know where my father is lodged." Her mother had taught her this imperious voice. At the time Danetha had thought it silly, now she understood its value.
"Kiboth Windhammer is in Shipmaster One," the man replied.
So her father must be really ill if he had let Umutt argue him into paying for the best suite of rooms in the Resthouse.
"We will go there now," she said. Her tone allowed for no argument.
"I know the way," Avora said, and made for the stairway in the far corner of the lobby. Danetha followed, turning to beckon a reluctant Sammol to follow them up.
Danetha did not relish more climbing in this heat, but as she moved upwards she felt the cool touch of air on her face. The building had wide windows at every level, their situation on the southern and northern walls allowing a constant flow of air though. The substantial wooden overhang on the southern roof shaded the space from the glare of the harsh southern rays.
They climbed to the second level, and the air cooled around Danetha again. Umutt had stationed the youngest member of Iceforged's crew at the outer door of the rooms, no doubt to keep out unwanted guests. He looked nervous at their approach. Sammol took himself off along the hallway, to settle on one of the benches further along the wall. Danetha let Avora lead the way to Kiboth.
