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Song of the Abyss Page 12
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“Makes them want to leave,” the king said.
“Sometimes, yes,” Reyna said.
Queen Vashti tapped her finger on the table twice as if something had just occurred to her. “The guards’ teeth were black.”
King Ulises regarded her with puzzled irritation. “So the Miranese don’t care for their teeth? That is interesting.” His tone implied the opposite. The Lunesian stirred, prepared to take offense on their queen’s behalf.
“It wasn’t rot,” Queen Vashti snapped. “It was paint. And I thought it very strange, that is all.”
“Oh!” Reyna said. All eyes swung her way. “It’s an old custom. Isn’t it, Master Luca? Painting teeth black?”
“It is.”
“It’s like the Bushido women when they leave their mustaches untrimmed,” Reyna explained. “Those men are looking for wives. It’s their version of a mating call.”
No one spoke. More than a few cleared their throats. Levi looked at her, looked away just as quickly. Master Luca spoke under his breath, but in the quiet his words were heard by all. “Reyna, we cannot say things like mating in such company.”
Reyna, suitably chagrined, was made less so by the smile, wide and genuine, that Queen Vashti sent her way.
The discussion continued.
“Best not to do anything out of the ordinary,” King Ulises said. “It will only make them suspicious. The Truthsayer will sail into Miramar’s harbor alone. But we won’t be too far away. Del Mar’s next expedition leaves in one week, once Lord Braga returns. The expedition is no secret.” He turned to Levi. “You have heard of it?”
“Yes,” Levi confirmed.
“Good,” King Ulises said. “The ships will leave Cortes as scheduled. They’ll stop here”—he pointed to Aux-en-villes on the large map unrolled before them—“presumably to take on additional fresh water. We’ve done this many times. No one will think it strange. This port is only a few days from Miramar. They’ll wait to hear word from the Truthsayer. We’ll proceed from there.”
Levi leaned closer, frowning at the map. “Days? Do you mean weeks? There’s no direct route from Aux-en-villes to Miramar.”
The king said, “There is, by river, here . . .” He trailed off, his finger on a blank space on the map. “Where did this map come from?” he demanded.
Master Luca looked. “Not from us, Your Grace.”
“It’s ours.” Instantly, Queen Vashti bristled. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s archaic.” The king found Reyna, who had shifted halfway behind Master Luca, knowing what would be asked of her. A rueful smile emerged on the king’s face as he said, “Under any other circumstance, I would not ask. I know what you risked to bring it home. But in this, we must show good faith.”
“I understand,” she said. Then, to be sure: “Aux-en-villes?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Most of the others looked baffled by the exchange. Master Luca, however, massaged his chest as though his heart were in great pain.
Reyna knew how he felt. “I’ll fetch it now.”
She found her maps in Lord Braga’s work chamber, on his desk, though she had to sift through dozens of other charts to find what she needed. It looked like a storm had passed through. Lord Braga had not tidied before he left, and he expressly forbade the servants from touching his desk, saying he could never find anything afterward. When she returned to the king’s chambers, room was made for her. She unrolled the map on the table. It was clear hers was the more current, the empty space on the Lunesian map fully drawn in. They were all distracted for a time, noting the changes, admiring the skill.
Levi forgot he was not speaking to her. “You hid them in the church?” he asked.
Her nod was stiff, but civil.
Levi spoke as if to himself. “This is why you ran.”
“I did not run,” she said evenly, and saw the king’s lips curve upward. “But yes, it’s why I left.”
“And you were right to do so.” Queen Vashti eyed Reyna’s rendering of Aux-en-villes and the rivers and roads surrounding it, previously unknown to Lunes. “I would have taken this from you with great pleasure. Clever girl.”
Her words wiped away any trace of amusement from King Ulises, who said in a sour tone, “As I was saying, from Aux-en-villes there is another way into Miramar . . .”
* * *
“This can’t be what they meant by bed rest,” Reyna said.
“I am in bed, and I am hardly moving. It’s enough.” Mercedes was sitting up, wearing a blue-and-silver dressing gown. Her color did look better. Reyna sat cross-legged on the covers, shoes kicked off onto the floor. They were alone in the bedchamber, but in the adjoining room, the ladies of the court had gathered. There was laughter and gossip. Many of them were knitting gowns and blankets for the baby. Reyna suspected Dita had had a hand in this. What we choose to believe is powerful, Reyna. If it proved true, the baby would be born in excellent health, with more clothing than he or she could possibly wear.
Mercedes worked as they spoke. A small table lay across her lap. On it was a dagger, as well as a flat piece of leather, the size and shape of an open book. It had once covered a book, in fact, but was now worn and faded. With quick, efficient hands, Mercedes sliced strips from the leather, each the width of a finger. One by one, the strips were wrapped around the dagger’s grip and tied off. Mercedes snipped the excess away with a pair of shears.
“There.” Mercedes held it up, satisfied. “Plain and simple. No one will look twice at this, but you won’t find a sharper blade anywhere else. Keep it close.”
“I will.” Reyna took the dagger and turned it over in her hand. With its worn grip, it was exactly the sort of weapon a scribe would carry.
Mercedes took up a spare leather strip and tied it into a knot. Over and over again. She could not keep her hands still. “You’re not to worry about me.”
“If you say so.” Reyna slid the dagger into its sheath.
Mercedes smiled. For the briefest of moments she looked like her old self, but then the shadows crept back behind her eyes. “I hate that I can’t go with you,” she admitted.
“I know.”
“I hate that I can’t keep you safe.”
“I’m not nine any longer, remember?” Reyna reached out and squeezed her hand. “I can take care of myself.”
“Yes. And Levi will be with you. I’m glad.”
Reyna dropped her friend’s hand.
“You’ve never been one to hold a grudge.” Somewhere beneath the amusement, Reyna heard a scold. “Poor Levi.”
Poor Levi? What about her? “I don’t like being lied to.”
“It’s never pleasant,” Mercedes conceded. “He was here earlier, your nemesis. That is from him.”
A vase sat upon an open windowsill, its color Lunesian blue. It held a single peony as white as a swan’s feather.
Reyna refused to be charmed. She showed the vase her back. “The king said he was your page on Lunes.”
“He was.” Mercedes smiled faintly. “He would meet me at the harbor. Always so sweet and serious. Being my page was not a task he took lightly.” She tied another knot onto her strip. “Levi is different from his siblings. He doesn’t like to have everyone’s eyes on him, like Vashti. He doesn’t befriend everyone he meets, like Asher. He has a few good friends, and they are all he needs.”
Reyna heard the affection in her voice. “You admire him.”
“Oh, very much.”
Reyna could not help herself. She pointed out, “Because he reminds you of yourself.”
Mercedes’s laugh had the women in the outer chamber pausing to look in. She said to Reyna, “No need to be spiteful, even though it’s true.” Her smile faded as she placed both hands across her rounded belly. “If I could not look for Elias myself, then I would choose you to do it. You and Levi.”
Reyna waited until she was sure her voice would not betray her. “I’ll find him, Mercedes. I’ll bring him home.”
&nbs
p; “Bring yourself home too, little sister. Do you swear it?”
Reyna smiled. She leaned close and kissed her friend, once on each cheek.
And made no promises.
Fourteen
REYNA RODE INTO THE HARBOR at dawn. She came with Master Luca only, for she had not wanted grand farewells from the tower, not for this particular journey. Master Luca was more than enough, suspiciously damp eyes masked behind strict orders to watch her back, keep her dagger close, and make sure she drank lots of water. Reyna, for her part, flung her arms around his neck and wept. Saying goodbye had never come easy to her, no matter how often she did it.
Her role as a scribe meant she had no use for the beautiful dresses Mercedes had ordered for her. They were left behind. Instead Reyna had packed clothing hastily fitted by Madame Julián: plain, serviceable frocks in Lunesian blue. Her sea chest had been delivered to the Truthsayer the night before. When she made her way up the gangplank, it was with nothing more than the clothes on her back. Trousers, boots, a white linen shirt. Also a cap on her head, faded and blue, her hair stuffed inside it.
Levi met her at the rails. Dressed formally in leather and mail, he offered a civil “Lady.”
“Captain.”
There was little he missed. He took in her red eyes and a nose that must be equally red. A glance over the side showed Master Luca, all alone by the mooring posts. Before he could say more, there was a shout from overhead.
“Lady!”
Halfway up the rigging, young Benjamin waved his cap at her, grinning. Seeing him lifted her spirits. Smiling, she removed her own cap and waved back. Her hair unfurled in the wind, like the sails, the ends whipping against Levi’s face before she moved hastily away. All around her a familiar crew prepared to sail. Not all the faces were friendly. The pilot, Caleb, would have slunk past without a word if Levi had not said his name in that scary, warning tone he sometimes used.
Caleb’s sigh was lengthy and put-upon. But he stopped and bowed. “Lady Reyna.”
“Master Caleb.”
And that was the extent of their conversation. Caleb looked at Levi as if to say, There. Is that polite enough for you? Levi nodded once, and with those niceties out of the way, Caleb marched off toward the sterncastle. Reyna watched him go and thought, This is going to be a long voyage.
“Ignore him,” Levi advised. “The men haven’t let him forget how easy it was for a girl to outsmart him.”
Reyna felt a little bad. She had taken advantage of his concern for that injured old lady in Selene’s harbor. “It wasn’t his fault.”
“Nevertheless.”
A violent retching claimed their attention. The sound came from the rails opposite, where a shipman leaned over the side, quivering from the force of his sickness. The contents of his stomach rained onto the fish below.
“Poor man,” Reyna murmured. The Truthsayer was still moored. How much worse would he be when they actually set sail? “Who is he?”
“My new doctor.” Levi didn’t look the least bit sympathetic to the shipman’s plight. “Borrowed from my sister. He’s temporary.”
“Temporary? Where is your permanent one?”
“Back in Selene. His wife is ill. I told him to stay behind, that I would take one of the castle physicians instead.”
More retching at the rails. Reyna guessed, “You’re regretting that decision.”
Levi’s lips curved, rueful. “A little. He’s an excellent doctor. But not on the water.”
A wary truce had developed between them. They did not mention the argument at the tower, but left the words unsaid, simmering beneath the surface.
Three more shipmen hurried by, stopping long enough to greet her. Lady. Lady. Lady.
It would not do. Reyna said, “I can’t be a lady on this ship.”
Levi only looked at her.
She explained, “Someone will forget and call me lady when they’re not supposed to. I’m your scribe. It’s better to begin as we mean to go on.”
Levi nodded, understanding. “So . . . Master Reyna?”
Master because women were considered bad luck on a ship. It was best to pretend there were none aboard. A silly rule, made by men. “Fine.”
“I’ll see to it,” Levi said. Then: “You have the middle cabin by the stairs. Your maid slept here last night. Readied your things. We gave her the cabin next to yours.”
“Maid?” Reyna said blankly.
“Mm. You’ll have to do without her on Miramar. I don’t know of any scribes with personal maids.”
“What maid?”
A crease formed between his brows. “The one who came with your chest.” He looked past her. “That maid.”
“Reyna.”
The voice—female, familiar—belonged to someone who should have been far away from here. In Montserrat, to be exact. Reyna spun around. Blaise stood by the open hatchway, nervously smoothing the white apron she wore over her dress.
Astounded, Reyna said, “What are you—oh no. No.”
“Just listen,” Blaise said. “I’m coming with you.”
“No.” The fragile, unspoken truce Reyna had built with Levi crumbled. She turned on him. “You let anyone aboard who says they’re my maid? She could have murdered you in your sleep!”
Levi didn’t look any happier than she did. His tone was clipped. “Your Master Luca brought her here. He said you knew her well, since you were girls.”
“Which is the truth,” Blaise offered.
“What is your name?” Levi snapped. The crew had gone quiet around them.
“Blaise.” She swallowed and tried not to look cowed. The wind sent her short curls in every direction despite the pretty clip of silver and pearls. “I went looking for Reyna yesterday. I found Master Luca first. He didn’t feel she should be the only female here, and I agree . . .” The look on Levi’s face sent her trailing off into silence.
“It’s not for you to agree or disagree.” Levi looked over the railing once again, but Master Luca and the horses had conveniently vanished.
Blaise said quickly, “I promise not to loaf. I can help your doctor there. He looks like he could use the help.”
Levi’s expression became one tiny bit less forbidding. “You’re a healer?”
“Yes,” Blaise said. “Well, almost.”
“Which means what, exactly?”
“I’ve worked in my uncle’s shop since I was ten. He’s a barber-surgeon. I can fix broken things.”
“Arms? Legs? Fingers?”
“All of it,” Blaise said. “And fever, stomach ailments. I can deliver babies . . .” She stopped, ears reddening, realizing what she had said. More than one shipman snickered.
Levi’s expression did not shift. “That won’t be necessary.”
Blaise sent Reyna a desperate glance. “And I can speak Lunesian and Caffeesh. Reyna can vouch for me.”
Everyone turned to Reyna, who said, “She can, and she’s an excellent barber. That isn’t the point. It isn’t safe, Blaise. I told you so in my letter.”
“Then you shouldn’t be going either.” Blaise folded her arms.
Reyna did the same. Levi, standing between them, looked from one glaring female to the other. He took a step back.
“How are you here?” Reyna asked. “What did your maman say?”
At this, Blaise faltered. Her mumbled response sounded suspiciously like “I left her a note.”
“You ran away!” Reyna cried, scandalized.
“You know I can’t stay there, Reyna. Please. Let me come with you.”
Reyna turned to Levi, who was eyeing his borrowed physician across the way. The man had lowered himself onto the deck, eyes closed. Sweat dripped from his temple. His face was the color of seashells bleached from the sun. Levi lowered his voice, addressed Reyna. “I can send him back to Vashti. Right now. We could use your friend, but this I’ll leave up to you.”
“You’ll allow two females on your ship? What about bad luck?”
Levi shrugged
. “We’re not as superstitious as you del Marians. We’ll call her Master Blaise and be done with it.”
Reyna was torn. She knew how miserable Blaise was. She saw her desperation to get away. But the journey they were about to embark on was full of uncertainty and danger. She thought of her missing shipmates, the dead crew, the abandoned vessels. Master Luca! How could he have placed her in this wretched position? If she had to choose between Blaise’s safety and her happiness, then there really was no choice to be made.
High above their heads, the seagulls greeted the new day. Heartsick, Reyna turned to Blaise, who saw the refusal in her eyes. And that was when Blaise lifted her chin and said, “You told me once that I should not waste my favors. That I should save them for when I truly needed them. Do you remember?”
“You wouldn’t,” Reyna breathed. Eight years since she had first made the offer, and Blaise had never brought it up again. Until today.
“I would,” Blaise said. “I would like to stay on this ship. And you owe me a favor.”
* * *
“Don’t be angry,” Blaise said.
“Your maman’s going to kill us both.” Reyna sat in her berth, in a different cabin from when she had first boarded the Truthsayer all those weeks ago. This one was three times the size, with a window large enough to jump from. Was this how she was to judge cabins from now on? she wondered. Were the windows large enough for escape? “If your uncle doesn’t beat her to it,” she added.
“Yes,” Blaise admitted. “But I’ll worry about that later.”
Reyna flopped onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.
“Reyna.”
Reyna turned her head. Blaise sat on a chair beside Reyna’s sea chest. There were two chairs, not one, and a small table where a platter displayed fruit, sugared almonds, even a cake. A thick rug covered most of the scarred wooden planks.
Blaise said, “Jaime’s my friend too.”
“I know.” Reyna rolled onto her side, propped herself up on an elbow. “I think he’s safe. He has to be. It doesn’t make sense to hurt them. Levi’s plan is a good one.”