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Authors: Tanya Huff

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BOOK: The Quartered Sea
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Anzeta poked him in the ribs. "They wouldn't have let you go. Those of us with the talent are too precious to risk."
 
"They let a bard go."
 
"That's different. Bards need to keep finding new songs.
 

The last thing we need to find are new injuries. And speaking of bards—" She jerked her chin, and Magda turned, knowing what she'd see—she could feel the many prickly bits of his kigh jabbing into her.

 

"Magda." Kovar nodded at her and then past her at the others. "Jerrad and Anzeta, isn't it?"

 

"That's right." Grabbing Jerrad's arm, Anzeta tugged him around. He began a protest but stopped as he saw who'd joined them. "If you'll excuse us, we were just going to gel something to eat. The smell coming up off that sausage can made me hungry."

 

Magda nodded. She could see no polite way of dumping the Bardic Captain and going with her friends—the down side of position in the Citadel. "I'll see you back at the Hall then."

 

"If they're actually going to eat one of those sausages," Kovar murmured as he watched them make their way down the pier, "they'd both better be very good healers."

 

"That's an unfair stereotype," Magda protested. "Perpetrated by bards and that stupid sausage song:
I bit into c sausage and found half a fly
… That can't have made you lot very popular with the street vendors."

 

"Actually, they said it improved their business. Not our intent I assure you." Hands tucked into the cuffs of his quartered robe, he turned to stare out into the harbor. "I sen Evicka along on the
Sand Hawk
." He nodded toward the distant sails. "That's the
Hawk
there on the left. Her Majesty seems to have forgotten that the crown never travels without a bard, and as she's determined to throw away the one she has with her now, she needed another for the trip back."

 
Gulls crying challenges over bits of garbage filled tin pause.
 
"Her Majesty saw me for a moment yesterday. Do I have you to thank for the meeting?"
 
Magda shrugged. "I may have said something."
 

"Try to see it from his position, Jelena. You spent four full quarters leaning on his knowledge and experience, seeking his advice on everything from foreign policy to replacing an old tunic then, suddenly, you're not listening to him at all. He feels tossed aside, abandoned. Is it any wonder he overreacted?"

 

"I tried one last time to convince her not to send these people to their deaths. She accused me of overreacting and said I want to keep her dependent."

 

Magda winced.

 

"She said that I've asked the bards to choose between their queen and me. As though refusing to have any part of this fool voyage has anything to do with loyalty to the crown. I never heard anything so ridiculous in my life."

 

"And you told her so?"

 

"Of course I did."

 

She's no longer my patient, and he never was
, Magda reminded herself.
This is none of my business. Pity I can't just knock their heads together
. "What
do
you want, Kovar?"

 

"I want to keep Shkoder safe, and to do that I need every available bard."

 

Reaching out, Magda laid her hand lightly on Kovar's arm. "Safe from what?" she asked softly.

 

Slowly, deliberately, he turned his head and stared down at her for a moment or two, lips pressed so tightly together they disappeared under the fringe of his moustache. Then he shook himself free of her touch. "You wouldn't understand," he said, pivoted on a heel, and strode away down the pier.

 

Magda watched him go, noting how the stragglers, still standing about in groups of two or three, called out to him as he passed. There
had been
a bard on board the
Starfarer
, and Kovar
had
come down to the docks to give his support to the sailing. For most of Elbasan, most of Shkoder, that would lay to rest the rumors of a split between Her Majesty and the Bardic Captain. Laying the substance of their disagreement to rest wouldn't be so easy.

 

"
Safe from what?"
she'd asked.

 

And under her touch, Kovar's kigh had answered, "
Change
."

 

* * *

 

Having insured that his instrument case was stored safely below in the corner he'd claimed as his, Benedikt leaned on the rail amidships and watched the shore slip away. All around him, members of the crew tied off lines, stowed last-minute supplies, and took care of the hundred-and-one tasks that began every voyage—albeit a little self-consciously under the fascinated gaze of queen and consort.

 

Leaving the bowl of the inner harbor behind, they soon passed the last of the smaller, private docks. Not long after, the land began to climb up onto the cliffs that edged the harbor's throat, north and south, until they ended at the Forts and the Bache ky Lamer, the Mouth of the Sea. The rock face had just cut off his view of the land beyond when a kigh lifted out of the water and passed on a message from Evicka.

 

Are you excited?

 

He turned, saw her on the forecastle of the
Sand Hawk
, and waved. During his second year as a fledgling, the healers had been forced to amputate her legs, and she'd been confined pretty much to the Citadel ever since. It had been her flute he'd heard his first night back. Nagged by Tadeus' criticism—"You haven't exactly gone out of your way to make friends."—he'd sought her out, ostensibly to learn the new piece she was working on, actually to prove Tadeus wrong.

 

Although philosophical about her loss, she'd been so excited at a chance to Walk on water as far as the Broken Islands that the air kigh had broken two windows in the Hall and a cistern had overflowed into the cellars the night Kovar had told her she was to go. But was
he
excited?

 

Not yet.

 

With a breeze from the wrong direction lifting the hair back off his forehead, Benedikt watched the kigh rise almost even with the
Hawk's
deck to deliver his answer. He thought he heard Evicka laugh as she sent it back to him again.

 

Then look behind you.

 

Behind? He turned.

 

Standing barely an arm's reach away, his balance unaffected by the motion of the ship, Bannon smiled. "Trade secrets?"

 

"No, we just…" Suddenly realizing what the older bard had meant, he felt his cheeks burn, the heat not at all cooled by the breeze now blowing lazy circles around his head. "Um, excuse me for a moment." When Bannon gracefully indicated he should do what he felt had to, Benedikt turned, Sang briefly to the kigh, reinforced the Song because he knew Evicka'd be expecting a response, and sent it back to the other ship. Where it drenched her.

 

The breeze vanished.

 

"Why did you do that?" Bannon asked, leaning on the rail beside him.

 

"I don't Sing air." He shrugged and tried to keep from sounding defensive. "It was the only way I could get rid of the kigh buzzing around u… me."

 
"You don't think that was an extreme reaction?"
 
"No. Why?"
 
"That bard has no legs."
 
"So? She has a towel."
 
Taken by surprise, Bannon laughed aloud.
 

Benedikt relaxed at the sound—it came without the overt manipulations of the ex-assassin's smile and had no expectations he'd fail to live up to.

 

Still smiling, Bannon rested his weight on his forearms and, while appearing to watch the scenery, studied Benedikt's reflection in the water. It seemed that under the nerves and patchwork armor, Her Majesty's pet bard had a sense of humor to go with his pouty good looks.
It's three days to Pitesti; I wonder what else he
's
hiding

 

Finding out might be an amusing way to kill some time.

 

* * *

 

Approaching the Bache ky Lamer,
Starfarer
cut her way through a river of liquid gold toward the center of the strait and the point where the sun would touch the sea. Pennants marked with a crimson circle were hoisted on all three ships and the crews fell silent as Evicka and Benedikt Sang the sunset. Their voices rose to fill the space between the cliffs—first air and water alone then together for the Gloria.

 

In the pause that followed, Benedikt moistened his lips and waited for Evicka, as senior, to begin the choral that would take the place of the two missing quarters.

 

Instead, from Fort Kazpar, squatting gray and impenetrable to the North, came the unmistakable sound of Terezka's soprano Singing fire. Spiraling down from the heights, it seemed, on the deck of the
Starfarer
, as though the sun itself was singing. When she finished, all three bards lifted the Gloria again and, as the last note faded, a male voice began to Sing earth from Fort Tunic.

 

Pjazef
, Benedikt realized. Much younger than Terezka, he didn't have the projection to bridge the distance across the strait, but Singing earth that didn't really matter. The cliffs themselves resonated to his Song.

 

All four quarters rose to close the Circle as the ships slipped from between the cliffs and into the sea.

 

"AH right you lot, look to those lines! We need to make the Arrow Head before dark!"

 

Jolted from the lingering aftereffects of the Song by the mate's bellow, Benedikt gripped the rail as
Starfarer
hit heavier chop. Behind him, Evicka, Terezka, and Pjazef would be exchanging news—although given the other two, he somehow doubted Terezka would be able to get a kigh in edgewise. For the first time since Vidor, he felt his lack of air; felt excluded and a little lonely.

 

"Benedikt?"

 

He turned, careful of his balance, and bowed. "Majesty." When he straightened, he noticed that her eyelashes were clumped together in damp triangles. "Is something wrong?"

 

"No. Everything's right." Her smile trembled at the corners as though the emotions creating it were too great to contain. "I've heard the sunset Sung a thousand times but never like that. I've never felt so enclosed in the Circle, as though I was a part of everything and everything was a part of me. Thank you."

 

"
Recent research based on Karlene's experience with the fifth kigh has indicated that when the four quarters are Sung correctly, the fifth is evoked
." But Kovar's lesson, learned way back in his first year as a fledgling, would be a dry and pedantic response to the queen's joy.

 

"You're welcome, Majesty." Benedikt returned her smile. "I'll tell Evicka, and she can pass your thanks on to the others."

 

Stepping forward into the curve of the bow, Jelena pressed herself against the rail. Wondering what he should do—there being very little between the queen and the sea—Benedikt glanced around for Bannon. He found the ex-assassin amidships, talking with Prince Otavas. Clearly no one who mattered thought the queen was in any danger with only a one-quarter bard by her side.

 

All at once Benedikt's tongue felt too big for his mouth, and he doubted he could Sing if he had to.

 

"I don't believe in omens," Jelena said quietly, unaware of the turmoil her trust had provoked. "I don't believe in things that can't be measured or proven. The dark sailor existed, so therefore his homeland exists, and I'm sending the
Starfarer
to find it. But what happened in the strait, two bards with the right quarters there at the right time, that seemed like an omen to me. Kovar would say,
Coincidence, Majesty, is a bard's stock in trade
, but if all things are enclosed in the Circle, can't coincidence be those things falling into place?" Eyes locked on the horizon, she drew in a deep breath of the salty air. "I choose to believe that Song was an omen—a good omen, the best of omens—and that
Starfarer
will succeed beyond our wildest dreams."

 

"We'll do it for you, Majesty," Benedikt told her. But he said it so softly, only the wind heard him.

 

* * *

 

That night, the three ships anchored in the lee of the Arrow Head, the huge outcrop of rock that marked the most eastward point of the Broken Islands. Although many captains of deep-keeled vessels risked the passage between the islands on moonlit nights, that wasn't a risk the captain of
Starfarer
was willing to take, not with queen and consort tucked up in her cabin.

 

As a quiet voice announced the first half quarter of the fifth watch, Lija i'Ales climbed into a hammock slung in with the mate and settled to sleep. There'd be plenty of risk ahead. No need to tempt the sea.

 

 

 

Jelena's great-grandfather, King Mikus, had been the last ruling monarch to visit the Broken Islands. It had been near the start of his reign, and he'd come with enough ships and troops to leave bearing the title, High Captain. As the relationship, political and economic, had turned out to be to the benefit of all parties, the title had remained comfortably with the crown of Shkoder. Both Jelena's grandfather, King Theron, and her mother had made multiple visits while they were heir. Jelena had been planning her first trip when her mother died.

BOOK: The Quartered Sea
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