Windfall, p.13
Windfall, page 13
“I have an idea.” He licked his lips and made his way over to the map before picking up the drafting compass. “But ya willna like it.”
The ship was the safest place for Rhian. Whether she liked it or not, Captain Liana Foley was her only ally. Not even Dillon could help her now. She breathed in the salty sea air, recalling the fear in his eyes in the garden.
Did he still love her? Could he?
Well, Rhian thought sadly, How can you love someone you’re afraid of?
Pressing Dillon out of her thoughts, she found the ship to be a harmonious place. The wind whistled in her ears as they soared across the water. Men grunted in unison as they pulled the halyards. Aloft, stretching ropes creaked. Foremast-men called from above as they heard instructions from below. Then there were the bells—rung every half hour in different patterns, to announce the time as far as she could tell.
The slick deck dipped with each jagged wave of the sea. The wind made the water choppy, and she feared she might be pitched over the side if she wasn’t too careful. As it stood, she was humiliated enough. She’d had an audience of pirates to witness the fact that she had never learned how to swim.
Rhian had read books on seafaring. A vessel of this size, she supposed, wouldn’t need a crew to be very large. The space was mostly meant for cargo. Pirate ships, she had read once, needed more men when pillaging and plundering so as to overwhelm the sparse merchant crews. Something told her, however, that the Windfall was not operating to full scale. She counted to twenty men before she’d started seeing the same faces. Of course, that didn’t count who Rhian had deemed the ship’s officers—the captain, the quartermaster.
The one they called Lucky appeared to be in charge of the artillery. Passing by, he barked at one of the younger crew members for a poor knot over one of the side cannons. The tattoo of an anchor on his neck bulged as he swore an oath and turned on his heel back to the upper deck. Rhian kept her distance.
One of the crew members swooped down to aid the man who had just been verbally filleted. From observation, Rhian knew he had a twin also aboard. She didn’t remember their names, but the one she watched now had long hair.
“Don’t worry about Lucky. He’s had some bad experiences with loose cannons,” he told him, giving his shoulder a shake before bending down to pick up the rope. “Here’s how you do it.”
A few minutes later, bells rang again, and the crew fluttered about the deck for a shift change. Rhian brushed her hair back as it whipped in her eyes. She wished she had a ribbon to tie it back. Perhaps she could find a hat below, like Captain Foley used.
Caught in the wave of men leaving and arriving to their posts, Rhian stumbled. The shoes that had been laid out for her when she had woken were a little too big for her, and she tripped on the empty toe. She caught herself, thankfully, and heard a light-hearted cackle on her right side.
“Haven’t got your sea legs yet, Your Highness?” The other twin, the one with hair cropped close to his scalp, smirked at her.
“It seems not, ah...” Rhian searched her memory for the man’s name. There had been a series of introductions by the Savarran surgeon and the tall Islander earlier that morning.
“Jamil, Your Highness,” he said. “If no one’s said it yet, welcome to the Windfall. That’s my brother, Kahil, over there.”
“Hello,” she replied weakly.
“I think you’re a bit in the way up here, Your Highness. It’s my turn to watch over Squiddy. Care to keep me company?”
Rhian agreed, and she followed Jamil below. “Squiddy? Is that his real name?”
He laughed again. “Oh, no. His real name is Sava. Some advice, though—don’t ever let him hear you call him Squiddy. Only the captain can say it to his face.”
The ship groaned. Rhian pressed her hands against the sides of the narrow walkway to the sickbay as the ship seemed to turn directions. Had Captain Foley settled on a heading?
“Why Squiddy?”
“It’s the captain’s name for him. When he was young, he messed about, and Almasi threw him into a cart of freshly caught squid.”
“Isn’t he a little old for a pet name?” Rhian guessed that Sava was perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old.
“Well, he’s been with the crew since he was a child.”
“If he doesn’t like the name, why does she call him that?”
Jamil paused. “You got a mother, Your Highness? Siblings?”
Rhian’s heart sank as she thought of her family. She never knew her mother—she had died after a fever ravaged her body. Her father, King Lyulf, passed not long after. And her brother... Thankfully, Almasi had assured her that the crew didn’t know details about the ball. The explanation they had been given was that the captain had rescued her from a fall into the sea.
“My parents were taken by the Divine. I’m the youngest child.”
“Well, Sava doesn’t have a mother either. She died when he was born, and his father either didn’t know about him or didn’t want him—she was Caerwyn, and he was Islander, and they weren’t married. You know how that can be.”
Rhian nodded. Islanders and Caerwyn folk didn’t marry often. Though they were recognized as citizens of Caerwyn, or Savarre before the secession, lslanders were often thought of as outsiders or foreigners. They had their own culture, their own language, and, long ago, their own religion. It wasn’t illegal to marry outside of one’s nation of origin, but pressures of societal division discouraged it.
It had surprised Rhian when Captain Foley mentioned last night in the garden that she was betrothed to an Islander. She recalled the man’s kind, welcoming smile when she had met him that morning. From what Rhian had seen, the captain and her crew made their own rules—had their own small community set apart from the rest of the world, built on mentorship, thievery, and a floating vessel with bells.
“Sava was raised in the orphanage with me and my brother,” Jamil continued. “We looked after him, but when we got older, we had to leave and try to make it on our own.”
“How did you all end up together on the same crew?”
“Sava ran away. He came looking for us. But the Capital is a big place for a little boy. He needed to eat, so he started to pickpocket. That was when he got into a bit of trouble.”
“Picked the wrong pocket?” Rhian guessed.
“Or the right one, if you care to think of it that way.”
They came up on the sickbay, and Rhian heard quiet voices, but they weren’t speaking Caerwyn. She recognized the language as Savarran, with its fluid vernacular and trilling words. Rhian, fluent for diplomatic purposes, caught onto the conversation. When they rounded the corner, she found the captain’s fiancé and the Savarran speaking.
“How many ribs are broken?”
“It’s difficult to tell. The rocking of the ship is too dangerous,” said the surgeon in his native tongue. “He could pierce a lung.”
“Did something happen, Almasi?” Jamil interrupted.
“Sava woke,” he said brusquely.
Rhian could hardly see past the three men, but she could hear Sava’s labored breathing.
“The captain should know,” Jamil replied. “Do you want me to—?”
“No. I’ll tell her.” Almasi let out a sigh that came off like a growl and slipped through the space between Rhian and Jamil. As he passed, Rhian noticed Almasi’s gaze linger on the sickbay.
As he did, his necklace, a Circle of the Divine, caught her eye. She felt a strange pull to it. A whisper of magic tangled with her senses. A thrill of hope coursed through her veins. Could Almasi be like her?
“Excuse me, Your Highness.” Tearing her eyes away, she forced herself to look at Almasi’s face. She shuffled to the side to let him by. He didn’t appear to notice her distraction, probably too lost in his worries about the boy. Giving her a polite nod, he turned away and climbed the steps to the deck.
“Dunmore Manor?” Ameen tilted his head in surprise.
“It’s our only chance.” Liana bent down and showed him a point on her map. “According to Marin, there is a cove with a beach, here. We can repair the ship there. Dunmore Manor is only a few miles from that point. Nellie won’t turn us away.”
“I’m not worried about Nellie.”
Ameen had known Marin’s daughter before, years ago. He recalled a pleasant half-Islander girl, a little older than Liana, with long, dark curls. But he had never met her husband. All he knew about the man was that Liana couldn’t stand him. This fact was embellished by her crinkling nose.
“Rhys Dunmore can go suck an egg for all I care. Squiddy needs to get onto land, and the rudder-staff needs to be fixed. My pride won’t get in the way of that.”
“And if he refuses to help us?”
“The least Dunmore can do is let us borrow a wagon. We can purchase supplies in Yael.”
“Yael is the heart of Caerwyn,” Ameen argued. “It’s also the home of the Vitalis family.”
She paused, wincing at the mention of the family name. “All the better.”
“What do you mean?”
“The princess confirmed my suspicions,” she said. “Grigor Vitalis killed my parents.”
“You’re sure?”
“He has the same powers. The same,” she emphasized, smacking a fist against her palm. “It was him. So, if we end up in Yael, maybe we can pay him a little visit...”
He sighed, shooting a pleading look for her to focus. “Liana, I’m sorry. But by now, you’re wanted all over the kingdom. We shouldn’t risk it.”
“Then let’s hope that Dunmore will find it in his heart to help us,” she said. “The manor is an isolated place. I don’t think word will get there for a while.”
“And what about the princess?” he asked, lowering his voice. “What will we do with her?”
“Drop her as soon as we can.” Liana fiddled with the drafting compass.
“Is that safe? We can’t just leave her on some beach. We at least owe that to her.”
“We owe her nothing.” She scowled. “It’s her fault we likely have the entire Royal Navy in our wake.”
“I know how you must feel towards her, given the possibility that her uncle—”
“He killed my parents. I know it,” she interrupted. “After we get the ship repaired and the crew settled, he’s going to get what’s coming to him.”
He knew from experience that when Liana Foley made a statement like that, there was no doubt she would make good on it.
“So, how did Squiddy seem?”
“He’s in pain,” he admitted. “But once he gets steady on land, I’m sure he’ll heal fast.”
She nodded and bit her bottom lip.
“He’s asking for you.”
“What do I say to him?”
He paused for thought, knowing she shouldn't worry. One look at his captain would be enough to embolden any man under her command. “Just be there, like you were for me.”
“If you say so, sailor.” She opened the door to the cabin, letting in the flow of salty wind and inhaling deeply. As she made her way below deck, her hair streamed behind her, billowing like a banner of war.
Chapter 18
Duel
3rd of Deornath, 1723
Cynareth Ocean, East of Caerwyn
Captain Foley, who Rhian found to be a practical and strict woman, gave her a list of duties to be carried out each day. At first, Rhian thought it to be a fair trade. She remained insistent that she was going to stay with the crew, and she supposed that meant she would work alongside them. For the most part, the captain appointed her with many of the tasks in the galley, managing the stores and assisting in preparing the meals. She didn’t mind that so much as when it came time to swab the deck. This was meant to be done after breakfast, but before preparation for lunch.
“No, no, no! I want every bit of my deck swabbed,” Captain Foley yelled at Rhian when she tried to go back below to the galley before noon. “I won’t have the wood split and risk an injury.”
Rhian looked at the captain sourly and drew up her breeches. She hadn’t worn a dress since her first day aboard. It would have made completing her chores impossible, especially at the pace the captain wanted. A couple of the aloft crew members paused their rope-climbing to peer down at them. Rhian’s ears burned.
“I have swabbed it,” The sound of another helpful crew member clearing his throat as he passed by reminded her of her manners. “Captain.”
“Well, it’s a shit job,” the captain grumbled, shimmying out of her coat before snatching the mop out of Rhian’s hand. “I’ll just do it myself. Get down to the galley, or else the meal will be late. Go on!”
Rhian retreated tearfully. She chanced a glance back and saw that Captain Foley had, indeed, found dry spots on the deck along the ballast. With a wet flop, the captain remedied the error with speed and precision. Rhian sniffed before slinking away below.
Ameen perched on the upper deck, keeping a watchful eye on his captain. She felt far away, as though she stood across an entire ocean from him. Liana didn’t notice him, too lost in her own thoughts. With the swabbing done, she stomped up the opposite set of steps to get to the upper deck. Without any sort of acknowledgement to him or Marin, who manned the helm, she swept by and peered over the stern, where the rudder had been carefully rigged. When she appeared satisfied it was still able to hold, she straightened up and held her hand over her brow, peering out onto the horizon.
Marin and Ameen exchanged quiet glances. The old sailor jerked his head back at Liana in an encouraging manner. Ameen nodded and swiftly came to her side.
“Where are you, Captain?” he murmured, leaning close. “We need you on deck.”
She tilted her head and blinked at him. “I’m right here.”
“Your boots are, but not your head,” he told her, tapping a finger to his temple. His father used to always say that to him, whenever he caught Ameen daydreaming.
She pinched her bottom lip between her fingers. “How is the crew? How are they feeling about... everything?”
He knew what she meant. “They understand that the princess is here because we rescued her from the water. They know she’s here willingly.”
“And they aren’t worried?”
“They trust their captain’s judgement.”
“Good.” She nodded. “I’ll have Nellie give her a horse once we get to Dunmore Manor. Then she won’t be our responsibility anymore. We’ll all be better off. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Ameen had been purposefully silent on the matter. Surely, she wouldn’t want to hear what he had to say.
Yes, Princess Rhian was a murderer, but so were they all. Unlike them, though, she had no experience in the harsh world outside the palace walls. Princess Rhian had already made it clear she couldn’t go back. He knew she would be safer with the crew than she would be on her own.
But Liana’s resentment ran deep. She would not see past it, no matter what he said to her. It would be a waste of breath.
“I’ll agree with whatever you decide.”
Liana frowned deeper. “I’m going to check on Squiddy again.”
“I just did.”
She stopped in her tracks and folded her arms. The toe of her boot tapped on the deck. He could feel the restless energy radiating from her body.
“I know what you need,” Ameen announced as an idea struck him. She looked at him suspiciously. “Do we still have the training swords in the cabin?”
“I stuck them under the berth, I think. Why?”
“After lunch, meet me on the lower deck.”
“What? But the crew...”
“We’ll give them a show. They need some entertainment after everything, don’t you think?”
Rhian had no idea there was a life outside more painful than the isolation of the palace. Everything hurt. Her arms and legs ached the most, especially at night. They throbbed as she laid in her hammock, sectioned off with sheets for privacy. With the sickness in the mornings, now more than ever she felt betrayed by her own body. Not to mention, she hardly slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her brother’s face, his empty eyes open in violent shock.
She let out a screech of terror when the hen fluttered and squawked at her. Mister Venegas chortled and moved to calm the fowl so Rhian could fetch eggs from the roost. Thankfully, she had cleaned it of droppings the night before.
“Sit,” said a thick voice, breaking her of her somber thoughts. Mister Venegas tossed her an apple, which she clumsily caught, before turning to the stove. “Rest. I will take care of meal.”
“No,” she said, twirling the apple by the stem. “I shouldn’t receive special treatment. I should work like everyone else.”
“But, you—”
“If Captain Foley can work on a ship, then so can I.”
“Captain Foley work on this ship for years,” said Mister Venegas with his back still turned. “She has built strength and knowledge of life at sea. And you should not strain so much in your condition.”
Rhian paused mid-bite and looked up at the Savarran over the crest of the apple. His spectacles glinted as he turned back to her and adjusted them on the bridge of his prominent nose. Under his gaze, she wilted.
“I have been surgeon for many years,” he said in response to her guilty silence. “I know difference between seasickness and woman with child. And I have daughter and granddaughter.”
Despite herself, her face crumpled, and she began to cry. Mister Venegas wiped his hands clean and calmly sat beside her. “It is miracle the child survived the fall.”
Rhian wiped her nose. “Is it? Captain Foley will be furious. And I have nowhere to go.”
“The father?”
The thought of Dillon forced her to blink away fresh tears. “He doesn’t know.”
Mister Venegas placed a gentle hand on her back. It was a little effort of comfort, but it helped.
“Captain Foley is kind woman,” said the surgeon. Rhian looked at him doubtfully. He patted himself beneath his collar in a gesture of sincerity. “She let you stay.”
