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Authors: Tanya Huff

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General

The Quartered Sea (14 page)

BOOK: The Quartered Sea
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By the time the three ships reached Pitesti, and the deepest harbor in the islands, they'd acquired an accompanying flotilla of smaller craft. With Evicka Singing all flags and banners to their best advantage and Benedikt parting the waves before the
Starfarer's
bow, Jelena, Queen of Shkoder, made an entrance worthy of her ancestors.

 

Although a massive rock jetty had been begun, ship's boats were still the only way to land in Pitesti Harbor. As
Starfarer's
boat approached the shore, it became obvious that the entire Council had come to the gravel beach to meet the queen.

 

"As well as every man, woman, and child on the island," Otavas noted.

 

"And a number of other islands as well, Highness." Eyes narrowed, Bannon stared disapprovingly at the crowds. "So many strangers puts you both in danger. If I may suggest, you should both stay in the boat until your people have gained a little more control."

 

Jelena laughed. "These
are
my people, Bannon. They're not strangers, and there's no danger."

 

"Majesty…"

 

"Don't worry, Bannon. I'll have Benedikt Witness both your objection and my refusal to listen to you. If anything happens, it won't be your fault." Smiling broadly, she twisted around on her seat. "Benedikt?"

 

"Witnessed, Majesty." But as they drew close enough to pick out individual expressions, Benedikt began to wonder if perhaps Bannon wasn't right. Although everyone seemed excited, no one looked terribly happy. He turned and noted that her Majesty's six Ceremonial Guards, coming in on the boats from the other two ships, were too far back to do much guarding.

 

When the sailors shipped their oars in the shallows and leaped out to drag the boat the last few feet up onto the beach, an old woman moved out of the crowd and walked slowly forward. The staff she carried, carved with an entwined pattern of kelp and topped with a leaping dolphin, clearly had a ceremonial function although, as she leaned her negligible weight against it, it also worked well as a support.

 

Jelena stepped out onto the shore.

 

In the silence that fell, Benedikt could hear Evicka, about half a dozen boat lengths behind him, Singing softly.

 

"Jelena, Queen of Shkoder, High Captain of the Broken Islands…" Carried by kigh, the old woman's voice rang out over the harbor. "… are we, the people of the Broken Islands, of Shkoder or are we not?"

 

A gesture from Prince Otavas held Bannon where he was as Jelena answered. "You are."

 

"Then why have we been slighted so?" The staff lowered to point at the
Starfarer
. "You send a ship to seek the land of the dark sailor, and yet you ignore the best the sea has to offer. Why have none from the islands been asked to sail for you?"

 

Jelena spread her hands. "Why would I ask such a thing through emissaries? No. Captain Lija i'Ales a'Berngards has chosen only eighteen of the twenty in her crew, the other two she hopes to find here." Without pausing, she raised her voice and lifted her arms to shoulder height. "Are there two among you with heart enough to sail in search of the unknown?"

 

The roar from the crowd needed no help from the kigh to make itself heard. As the old woman handed the staff to a nearly equally old man and clasped Jelena in her arms, Benedikt noticed a bicolored robe—blue and green, air and water—in the first line of islanders. It had to be Tomas, the senior of the two bards in the islands.

 

No doubt warned of his attention by the kigh, Tomas looked up and mimed wiping his brow.

 

 

 

The celebration lasted two days and watches were arranged so everyone on board the three ships could take part. On the morning of the third day, Captain Lija chose the final two members of the crew and then began the serious business of loading extra water casks and as much food as possible.

 

"Shouldn't you be down there helping?"

 

Snapped out of his reverie by Tomas' question, Benedikt straightened and turned. He'd been standing with his forearms oh the peeled cedar rails that edged the rooftop deck of the combined Healer/Bardic Hall—a position he'd come to enjoy on board ship—watching the activity down in the harbor. "You know how we're all taught as children never to allow a bard to do anything you can do yourself?"

 

Tomas smiled. "I've always thought it's how we bards acquired our reputations—we're only ever asked to do the impossible. Or at least, the unlikely."

 

"Well, I was told in no uncertain terms that they knew what they were doing and didn't I have something bardic to take care of." He shrugged. "Her Majesty wanted me to give you my recall of the trip this far, so I thought now would be a good time. If you're available."

 

"Of course I am. Did you want to work out here?"

 

"If we could." Benedikt waved an enthusiastic hand out over the rail. "If I don't look down, it's almost as if I'm back at sea—blue above and blue below.

 

"Yes, well, you can be thankful you're not here in Fourth Quarter," Tomas muttered, frowning out at a passing cloud. "Then it's gray above and unenclosed cold down below. I'll go get my writing materials, and we can set up over there in the corner out of the wind."

 

As recalls went, it didn't take long. They could still hear the
Starfarer's
mate shouting instructions down on the beach when Tomas brought Benedikt up out of his light trance and handed him a glass of honeyed tea for his throat. "That's one, then." He frowned down at the topmost page. "Legible but not pretty, I'm afraid. Liene was always appalled by my penmanship. Do we pass this straight over to Her Majesty's secretary or give it to Evicka to take back to the Hall?"

 

Benedikt cradled the heavy glass in both hands. "Actually, Her Majesty wants you to copy it—there should be plenty of time before she sails. You're to keep the original and give the copy to her secretary."

 

"But…" Uncertain of just how exactly he'd intended to word his protest, Tomas settled for running both hands up through his thinning hair. "Did her Majesty say why?" he asked at last.

 

Surprised by how miserable he felt thrust back between the queen and the Bardic Captain, as though the three days they'd already sailed counted for nothing at all, Benedikt nodded. "She doesn't trust Kovar to deal fairly with the recalls from
Starfarer
."

 

Tomas' jaw dropped. Up until that moment, he'd considered the expression merely a figure of speech but there was his jaw, hanging loose. He snapped it shut. "Has it gone that far?"

 
"Apparently."
 
"I'm not saying Kovar doesn't have a point," Tomas muttered, "there's few enough of us for Shkoder…"
 
"So you don't think I should be going?"
 

The challenge in his tone lifted Tomas' brows. "I think you' re a Walking bard and fully capable of making your own decisions," he said sharply. "And I think Kovar's forgotten that we were never intended to be a political entity. We Sing the kigh, we bring the people to each other, and anything beyond that is an individual concern."

 

Somewhat abashed, Benedikt plucked a leaf off a potted herb and rolled it between his fingers. If the scent released was supposed to be soothing, it wasn't doing much good. "The only high note in this whole mess is that by tomorrow's tide, it won't have anything to do with me."

 

By the time Imperial assassins made their move, they knew more about their targets than their targets knew about themselves. Ever since Benedikt had made him laugh on the
Starfarer
, Bannon had been observing the bard. It had been unexpectedly hard to keep his distance, but he had no intention of starting something—even something brief and physical—with a man so insecure and was actually a little appalled to find himself wanting to.

 

Amongst other things, he'd discovered that there were only three people in Pitesti Benedikt felt comfortable with. Evicka, who had no legs, and Tomas, who Sang only two quarters in a four-quarter position, he saw as handicapped as himself and relaxed around them. Her Majesty, whom he adored, he saw as the one person who didn't expect him to fail. Concentrating on his noble effort for the queen, he hadn't yet given a thought to the people he'd be sailing with.

 

"It ought to be an interesting trip."

 

Benedikt jerked around, wondering how anyone, even an ex-assassin could get that close to a bard on a pebble beach without being heard.

 

Reading the thought off the other man's face—not difficult as it was a reaction he often, and deliberately, evoked just for fun—Bannon grinned. "No second thoughts?"

 

Confused by the absence of edges in Bannon's smile, Benedikt shook his head. "Don't worry. I won't let Her Majesty down."

 

"Would it surprise you to find out that I'm not worried about that?" Impatience sharpened Bannon's tone. He'd asked an innocent question and had it treated like an accusation. Why was he even bothering? "No one is slaughtering worried about it except you."

 

"You
were
."

 

"The only way you could've let Her Majesty down was by not showing up." Smiling tightly, Bannon spread his hands. "And here you are."

 

They stood in silence for a moment.

 

Surprised and irritated by how easily Benedikt had taken him from amusement to annoyance, Bannon breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, attempting to regain his equilibrium. Up until this moment, he'd thought only his sister could have that effect on him.

 

Benedikt's gaze flickered over the beach, the sky, a wheeling gull, and finally settled back on Bannon. It seemed that every time he turned around of late, the southerner was there in the background.
I think of him, and there he is
.

 

Every time.

 

"Why are you here?" he asked at last.

 

Wondering that himself, Bannon chose to answer the general rather than the specific. He turned and indicated the queen and her consort standing talking to Evicka and the eldest of the Pitesti Council by one of
Starfarer's
boats. "Her Majesty and His Highness are going back out to the ship to address the entire company before you sail. Where they go, I go. Looks like you're not quite rid of me."

 
Wondering why he felt slightly cheated by that answer, Benedikt shrugged. "I'm not trying to get rid of you."
 
Their small section of the beach seemed suddenly, impossibly, silent.
 
After a moment, Bannon nodded. "Good."
 
 
 

Standing on the aft deck, looking past the crew gathered amidships, past the forecastle, the bow, and out of the harbor, Jelena gave half a moment's thought to ordering the anchor raised and
Starfarer's
nose pointed out to sea. Exploring the unknown was her dream, had been her dream since the first night she'd stared through a distance viewer at the stars; she wanted to be there to share the discovery.
If I weren't queen
. .. She sighed. If she weren't queen, there would be no
Starfarer
. Nor would there be a
Starfarer
if she hadn't decided to
be
queen. Kovar would never have allowed it.

 

"You can't go with them, Lena." Otavas' breath lapped at her ear "Let's let them go."

 

She turned her head enough to smile into her consort's incredible eyes, unsurprised he'd know what she was thinking. Taking a deep breath, she held up a gold coin between thumb and forefinger. The crew below fell silent, all eyes locked on her hand.

 

"I have one of these for each of you; a gold Jelena." A little embarrassed still by the coin that bore her name, she ducked her head. The twenty men and women on the main deck murmured their approval and, looking up again, she smiled. "It is, of course, too small a reward for what you dare, and when you return, there will be many more." A pause while that received the anticipated reaction. "I want you to have these coins now," she continued after a moment, "for a purely selfish reason. When you see them, when you hold them, you'll think of me. In this small way, I can be a part of your adventure." She spread her arms. "May the Circle enclose you and protect you and bring you all safely back home."

 

For a heartbeat there was no sound at all.

 

The cheers that followed the silence were so loud they echoed back from the buildings of Pitesti.

 

To Bannon's horror, Jelena walked down the ladder to the deck and personally handed out the coins. Everyone, from the ship's jack to the captain had a moment with the queen before she left, a word and a gentle touch that would carry her with them more surely than any coin.

 

Finally standing by the rope ladder that led down to the boat and back to shore, she reached out with both hands and drew Benedikt to her. "You are my eyes and my ears, Benedikt." Stretching up, she kissed him on both cheeks. "I can't wait to hear the Songs you'll bring me."

 
Benedikt could only bow, his chest too tight for words.
 
 
 
"Now we leave our hearth and home."
 
BOOK: The Quartered Sea
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