Fire of the Soul (17 page)

“Good.” Durand dropped a surprising number of
coins into the man’s hands. “This should pay the ship’s crew.”

“Thank ye, sir. Though I don’t do it for the
money, ye understand. Cursed Dominion!” The man spat on the floor.
“One of their raiding parties took my little boy and my wife some
years ago. Never seen either of them since. I’ll do ought I can to
hurt the Dominion.”

Durand gave the man a sympathetic pat on the
shoulder and turned to Calia. He didn’t appear at all surprised to
see her standing so close.

“I understand,” she said when they were
walking along the road, “that what I just overheard is part of your
work for King Henryk and that the proprietor is a confidant of
yours. I promise, I will not repeat a single word to anyone.”

“I knew I could trust you,” he said, “or I
would not have been so careless. In fact, I may need you to help me
later.”

“So long as you don’t expect me to do
anything that could harm Lady Elgida or
any
of her
grandsons, I will be glad to do whatever I can.”

Durand grinned with his eyebrows raised, but
he said nothing about her emphasis on Lady Elgida’s grandsons.

At the landward end of the wharf Lady Elgida
paused long enough to give Garit a hard look before she continued
up the village road, following at a distance from the four other
passengers of
The Kantian Queen,
who had passed them and
were walking at a faster pace.

“They cannot hear us now,” she said, “and
from the peculiar sounds Captain Pyrsig made when speaking to that
old man, the villagers won’t understand the Sapaudian language if
they do overhear us. We cannot be more private than this. What is
it, Garit? What do you want to say to me?”

“Since Calia is bound to you as your
companion, I ask your permission to marry her,” he said, believing
that blunt speech was the best way to deal with his very determined
grandmother.

“Do you, by heaven?” Lady Elgida paused to
look at him again. “May I ask why?”

“After considerable thought,” he said, “I
have come to the conclusion that in the future I will need an heir
for Castle Auremont, and for Saumar Manor, too.”

“Oh, come now, Garit; you’ve known for years
that you must have an heir. You have simply been ignoring the fact
because of your grief. Is an heir all you will expect of a
wife?”

“Calia is the first young woman I’ve met
since Chantal died whose company I can tolerate,” he said.

“I see. Will you be content with a wife whom
you can only tolerate?” the old lady demanded with a sharpness that
Garit did not like. “More importantly, since I care about Calia,
will she be happy with such an arrangement?”

“I am certain she likes me,” he said,
watching Calia stroll some distance ahead of him with her hand on
Durand’s arm while Mairne, just behind the pair, chattered to the
silent Anders.

“Having once enjoyed a marriage that was made
for love, I would prefer that you love your wife, or at least feel
some affection for her,” Lady Elgida told him. “Since you have not
declared any affection for Calia, I refuse to release her. Speak to
me again after we are back at Saumar.”

“I’d rather not wait.”

“I insist that you do. Perhaps, after a
longer time in Calia’s daily company you will feel more warmly
toward her. Or it’s possible that you will decide you don’t want
her after all, and then you’ll be grateful to me for not allowing
you to be bound together so precipitously.”

“Waiting won’t change my mind,” Garit
insisted.

“Now you sound remarkably like a lustful
young squire, rather than a full-grown and experienced man.”

“I am not lustful,” Garit said, knowing he
lied. “I am being practical.”

“Practical, eh? I think you are still nursing
a broken heart. I tell you now that you will never be whole again
until you give up your hatred of Walderon. No, do not interrupt
me,” Lady Elgida said, holding up a hand to prevent him from
speaking. “Walderon was a wicked man, but he is dead. Nothing you
do can affect him now, but he can harm you again if you allow him
to continue to rule your emotions. Don’t grant him that victory,
Garit.

“As for Chantal, she will always remain in
some corner of your heart as she was when last you saw her – sweet,
innocent, and loving – and always nineteen years old, always
untested by life, while you will grow older and mature to become
the man you were meant to be.”

“Walderon stole from her the opportunity to
mature,” Garit said through clenched teeth. He hated discussing
Chantal with anyone, preferring to keep her safely enshrined in his
memory. Of course, his grandmother would not allow that.

“From all I’ve heard of Chantal, and most of
what I’ve heard is favorable, she would want you to be happy and to
have a wife and children. And she would want you to love the woman
you marry. That is why I say that for the present, you may not ask
Calia to marry you.”

When Lady Elgida reported this conversation
to Calia later, she was hard pressed not to weep.

“Thank you, my lady, for handling an
embarrassing situation so well,” she said. “If only you would
release me from your command that I not tell Garit whose daughter I
am, then he won’t trouble you about this again. I cannot see the
sense of keeping this secret from him.”

“I will not release you,” Lady Elgida said.
“I have my reasons, girl, and they are good reasons. Now, stop
fretting.”

In late afternoon, with the tide ebbing,
The Kantian Queen
cast off from Larak and headed west across
the open sea. Calia turned her face into the wind, hoping anyone
who noticed the moisture in her eyes would assume it was caused by
the cold wind. In fact, she had been thinking about Garit and his
wish to marry her.

With an effort of will she squared her
shoulders and told herself to have done with self-pity. She had
always known that no decent man would want to wed the illegitimate
daughter of an executed traitor, and she had accepted her lot,
especially at Saumar Manor, where her duties offered free rein to
what talents she possessed. She had been content at Saumar, until
Garit appeared and broke through the barriers around her heart with
a few kisses and a hasty agreement to protect his grandmother.

His interest in her wouldn’t last. Just a few
days more until they reached Kinath and the inevitable meeting with
Mallory, after which Garit would begin to view her with disgust
and, probably, with suspicion.

“Here you are.” Garit joined her at the rail.
After casting a hard look at her, he turned his attention to the
sea.

“Where else would I be?” She spoke lightly,
thinking to make him smile.

“From the look on your face a moment ago, I’d
say you were halfway to the bottom of the sea,” he responded
gravely. His hand covered hers on the rail. “I wish you would tell
me what’s worrying you.”

“And I wish you would demand that your
grandmother tell you,” she snapped. “Then you’d never trouble me
again.”

“Trouble you?” His hand tightened over hers.
“If you were troubled by my kisses, it was only in a pleasant way,
though I do understand that an innocent young woman could be
disturbed by unfamiliar feelings of passion. Is that what’s wrong?”
He looked directly at her for a moment, then sighed when she
averted her face.

“No, I think not,” he said. “You are
concealing some important secret. Is it my grandmother’s real
reason for this precipitous voyage to Kantia? What is she planning?
I’m sure you know.”

“Will you kindly desist?” She yanked her hand
away from his. “Leave me alone, Garit. Do not embrace me, not ever
again. Do not kiss me, for I find your kisses offensive. Above all,
ask me no questions, for I will not – I
cannot
– answer
them. If you are so desperate for answers, then torment your
grandmother, not me. I am only obeying her orders.”

With that she turned and marched across the
sloping deck to the hatchway. When she reached her cabin she
slammed the door hard, startling Lady Elgida, who was sitting on
her bunk reading.

“What now?” that lady asked.

“Garit.” Calia bit off the name as if it hurt
her tongue. “He has fastened himself on me like a leech and he will
not stop until he has drained me of every answer he can pry out of
me and every excuse I can offer in place of the honest answers I am
forbidden to provide.”

“Do leeches pry?” Lady Elgida asked. “I
thought they could only suck blood.”

Calia glared at her, wanting to laugh at the
small joke, wanting to weep again, wanting to shake the old lady
for her stubbornness, and knowing she could do none of those
things. She took refuge in harsh words, instead.

“I shall be bloodless before your grandson is
finished with me. In the end, he will learn what he wants to know.
And then, my lady, he may despise you as well as me for keeping the
truth from him.”

After Calia stormed off the deck Garit
remained at the rail while he tried to make sense of her final
words. Despite what she said, he knew his kisses had not offended
her. What had his grandmother said or done to—?

Garit drew up sharply, staring at the sea
ahead. Twin black sails had appeared on the western horizon. In
those waters it was a sight to drive all thought of personal
problems from any man’s mind. Two large ships were heading directly
for
The Kantian Queen,
moving at remarkable speed. Their
square sails flared and tautened with the wind out of the south and
their banks of oars flashed in the sunlight.

Even as Garit opened his mouth to call to
Captain Pyrsig, the ship’s lookout issued a more serious
warning.

“Matarami pirate ships dead ahead!”

Garit was already moving toward the captain.
He and Durand converged on Pyrsig at the same moment.

“How can we help?” Durand asked. “I can see
we are outnumbered. What do you want us to do?”

“We fight,” Garit declared grimly.

“Nay, lads.” Captain Pyrsig tilted his chin
to look up at the brass wind-vane that crowned the ship’s single
mast. “I’ve no taste for blood on these decks. We’ll outrun them,
that’s what we’ll do.”

“They have oarsmen, which we do not, as well
as larger sails than we have,” Garit noted.

“There’s no question they outman us,” Durand
added. “But we have women to protect. We must fight.”

“No, those are all good reasons to leave them
far behind.” Captain Pyrsig shouted an order.

His sailors had been waiting; in less time
than it took Garit to understand what the order meant, the seamen
raised a secondary, triangular sail that stretched from the
bowsprit to the top of the mast.

With a loud crack the wind caught the fresh
canvas.
The Kantian Queen
heeled over so far to starboard
that Garit feared the ship would capsize.

Captain Pyrsig bellowed out another order and
the new sail was adjusted. The ship straightened and leapt forward,
angling away from the pursuing pirates.

“We’re heading almost due north,” Garit
protested after a glance at the sun. “The Matarami have been
sailing these waters for centuries. They know the winds and the
coastline, and every river where we may try to hide. They’ll follow
us.”

“Not all the way to the end of the known
world,” Captain Pyrsig responded. “They seldom venture very far
into the Sea of Fire And Ice, what the northerners call
Fiuris
Occan.
They fear the ice floes and the fire that erupts from
the sea.”

“You don’t have a Chandelari pilot aboard.
You cannot be planning to sail to Chandelar through the ice,”
Durand exclaimed.

“Nay, lads, only far enough north to convince
those pirates that Chandelar is where I intend to go,” Captain
Pyrsig said. “After nightfall they’ll most likely drop away and let
us sail on to what they believe is our certain doom. ‘Tis a trick
I’ve used a time or two in the past. It always worked then, so I’m
trustin’ it’ll work again.”

“Then, we’re not sailing to Chandelar?”
Durand asked, sounding almost regretful.

“Well, no, not if I can avoid it. I’ve no
likin’ for a land with so vile a climate,” the captain said. “But
we can sail close to the shore of Chandelar and then turn south
when we sight Cape Death. If the winds are fair, we should reach
Kinath in three or four days.”

“Lady Elgida won’t be happy to have her
voyage extended,” Durand remarked with a knowing look at Garit.

“Would she rather stay on a direct course for
Kinath and be slaughtered by pirates?” demanded Captain Pyrsig.
“Now, ask me no more questions, my lads, for I’ve serious work to
do. Garit, tell yer grandmam to stay below. No, convey my
order
to her to stay in her cabin, and her ladies, too,
until I say it’s safe to come on deck.”

“Oh, Garit,” Durand said, laughing, “I must
go with you to hear Lady Elgida’s response to an order from a mere
man.”

“Tell her,” Captain Pyrsig said, “that if I
so much as see a female foot on my deck before mornin’, I’ll toss
whoever is attached to the foot overboard without askin’ questions.
We’ll be tackin’ and turnin’ and the deck will pitch unexpectedly.
Tell Lady Elgida I said so.”

They sailed due north for the remainder of
that day, with the Matarami ships slowly closing on them until
Durand once again raised the question of fighting the pirates.

“We won’t be able to avoid a battle,” he said
to Garit. “Not if they come close enough to board us. My friend, we
need to consider what to do if the women are endangered. We cannot
leave them to the mercy of pirates to rape and murder.”

Garit was about to suggest that they advise
Lady Elgida to offer a large ransom should the women be captured,
when a cry from the small platform high on the mast interrupted the
discussion.