27
The waters between Port Lorsin and Paratheen were unusually calm for late summer, and sleeping in Tasia’s spacious quarters at the aft of the ship was far more comfortable than sleeping in the cargo hold with the livestock, the way Joslyn had when she’d sailed from the East some six months earlier. The gentle rocking of the sea, the cot that was comfortable for being on a ship, combined with the exhausting pace of the last few days before setting sail, might have explained why Joslyn overslept on their tenth morning at sea. When she woke up on her cot (she and Tasia didn’t dare share a bed in this too-small floating city), Tasia was nowhere to be seen.
Joslyn rose and dressed hastily. It was a ship; Tasia could not go far. But Joslyn did not like not knowing where she’d gone.
“She’s just there, Commander,” said the guard on duty outside Tasia’s quarters.
Joslyn followed the line of his outstretched finger to see Tasia, the hem of her sleeping gown peeking out beneath a heavy cloak, standing at the railing of the quarterdeck.
Joslyn nodded her thanks to the guard and made her way to Tasia’s side.
Tasia had her elbows on the railing, gazing impassively down at the water. A dolphin leaped above the waves briefly, its blue-grey flank shining in the morning sun.
“Playful creatures, dolphins,” Tasia commented without looking at Joslyn. “The shape of their mouth makes them look like they’re always smiling. A pod of them followed Evrart and me halfway to Paratheen the last time I sailed from Port Lorsin.” She gestured at the armada surrounding them. The great galleon they stood upon was at the fleet’s center. “They’re not shy, but I wonder at them being so bold while surrounded by so many ships.”
“You should have woken me,” Joslyn said. “It always panics me to wake and not know where you are.”
Tasia reached for Joslyn’s face, then seemed to remember where they were. She let her hand fall onto Joslyn’s shoulder instead.
“You were sleeping so soundly. More soundly than you’ve slept since we left and I –” Tasia stopped suddenly, wincing.
“What is it?”
“Seasickness.” Tasia put a hand on her stomach and closed her eyes. She opened them again a few seconds later. “I don’t remember feeling this sick the last time we sailed.”
“Still getting your sea legs,” Joslyn said. “I didn’t feel well myself the first day at sea.”
“Perhaps,” Tasia said. Her eyes grew distant. “But that’s why I came out here so early this morning. I thought the fresh air would help settle my stomach, but I’m afraid I retched over the railing immediately. Rather un-Empress-like of me.”
“I’ll send someone to the galley for tea,” Joslyn said. “It will help.”
Tasia smiled. “You tend to think that tea is the solution for everything.”
Joslyn returned her smile. “Is it not?”
“Commander?”
Tasia and Joslyn both turned. A short, pock-faced man in palace blacks stood a few yards off, holding up a tiny scroll.
“A message by crow for you, Commander,” he said, handing the scroll to Joslyn. Crows were the way Imperial Navy vessels communicated with one another, which meant the scroll had come from one of the neighboring ships.
Joslyn exchanged a glance with Tasia, frowning. Joslyn unfurled the scroll.
Stowaway aboard the Rooster’s Comb,it read. Terintan girl, fifteen summers. Moved to throw overboard, but girl claims to be personal servant of Empress. Awaiting instructions.
Joslyn cursed softly in Terintan, then handed the scroll to Tasia. “Get me parchment and a pen,” she told the guard. “We’ll send a message back.”
#
“You do realize that they were about to throw you overboard, leaving you to drown?” Tasia said to Linna, who perched on the edge of Joslyn’s cot. “That’s what the navy typically does when it finds uninvited guests aboard its ships. Especially …”
Especially an unknown Terintan teenager,Joslyn finished for her.
Tasia rubbed her forehead. “Honestly, Linna, what were you thinking? I thought you had better sense.”
“I’m sorry, Empress,” Linna mumbled, eyes on the rug at her feet.
Tasia shook her head and muttered a barely audible expletive while she paced the cabin.
“We’d planned to resupply and take on more troops at Negusto anyway,” Joslyn told Tasia. “We will find a trustworthy merchant headed to Port Lorsin and send her back that way.”
Linna flinched as if she’d been hit.
Joslyn studied the girl. It was her own fault, really. She’d seen herself in Linna, hadn’t protested enough when Linna started calling her Ku-sai. In her secret heart, Joslyn had liked being someone else’s ku-sai. Joslyn had let herself become too familiar – she and Tasia both had. Which in turn gave Linna the boldness Linna needed to sneak aboard one of the transport ships.
“I have half a mind to flog you for this,” Joslyn said. “And I want to hear you answer the Empress’s question: What were you thinking?”
“That I … might be of use, Commander.”
“Of use,” Joslyn repeated between clenched teeth. “When you asked to come with the Empress and me, what did I tell you?”
Linna hesitated. “That you wanted me to stay at the palace and look after Princess Adela.”
“Would you not have been of use that way?”
“Y-yes,” Linna stammered. She found the courage to lift her eyes to Joslyn’s. “But, Commander, they have Deputy Commander Brick to watch after them, and Darien is very protective of Adela, and –”
“Darien is a sixteen year-old youth who would be delighted to get into my sister’s undergarments,” Tasia snapped. She clenched her fists. “He was one of the people you were supposed to protect her from!”
Linna hung her head again. “It was the Princess who … insisted I go,” she said, her voice so soft that it was nearly a whisper.
Tasia did a double-take. “She did what?”
“Princess Adela – a-and Milo, too,” Linna said, not looking up. “I told the Princess I was supposed to stay in Port Lorsin, but she … well, she ordered me.”
“She ordered –” Joslyn started, at the same time that Tasia demanded,
“Why would she order you? More importantly, why would you listen to her?”
“Because …” Linna’s head was bowed so deeply now that her chin touched her chest. She mumbled something, but it was too quiet to hear.
“Look your Empress in the eye and speak clearly,” Joslyn barked.
“Your Majesty,” she began formally. She swallowed. “Princess Adela knows that the last time you led troops into battle, your grandfather ambushed you, routed your forces, and successfully captured you. Your sister also knows that I was the one who snuck into the camp where you were being held and added the sleeping draught to the stew of the men who were transporting you back to Port Lorsin, and that I was also the one who released you from the dog cage and led you to safety.” Linna’s eyes darted briefly to Joslyn. “Princess Adela wanted me to be with you in the East. In order to protect you, ma’am.”
Tasia laughed, but it was humorless. “In order to … oh, Mother Moon.”
She turned away from Linna, resumed her pacing. One hand rested again on her stomach.
Joslyn stared at Linna for several long, tense seconds. Linna chewed her bottom lip, but would not look away.
“The last time the Empress led troops into battle,” Joslyn said, forcing herself to speak in a slow, measured tone, “I was not able to be at her side. Had I been at her side, she never would have been taken captive. Do you agree?”
Linna hesitated a moment, but then nodded.
“And I put my trust in you to protect the Princess in my absence. The Princess, and Milo, too. Just as my own duty is to protect the Empress, your duty was to protect them.”
Linna found her voice. “But what if the person you’re supposed to protect doesn’t want to be protected? What if they want you to protect someone else?”
“Do you think the Empress wanted me around when I was first assigned as her bodyguard?” Joslyn let the rhetorical question linger for a few moments. “In leaving you to watch over the Princess during my absence, I had hoped that the highborn and palace guard alike would come to regard you as the Princess’s personal guard. When I returned, I would have been able to appoint you to that position officially, without damaging morale. But you betrayed my trust and shamed both of us with this stunt. Now neither I nor anyone else will see you as anything more than an impulsive teenager who is not yet ready for true responsibility.” Joslyn pressed her lips together into a tight line and shook her head. “I am very disappointed in you, Linna.”
That did it. The girl’s eyes welled with tears. She blinked a few times, trying to prevent them from falling. Joslyn knew her words would hurt Linna more than a flogging ever could.
“The moment we reach Negusto, we’re sending you back,” Tasia said. “In the meantime … Joslyn, fetch a spare hammock and someone who can secure it in here. Obviously she can’t sleep belowdecks, surrounded by sailors.” She turned back to Linna. “How did you even manage to avoid discovery for six days? The Rooster’s Comb is half the size of this ship.”
Linna opened her mouth to respond, but then Tasia lifted a hand.
“Never mind. On second thought, I don’t think I want to know. You’ll only set my stomach to churning even more than it already has been this morning.”
Joslyn scrubbed her face with both hands. Negusto was about five days away. She’d have to figure out what to do with Linna until then.
None of them realized then that Negusto would never come.