Zollin sank onto his bunk as Eustice hung the wet clothes to dry. He’d grown used to letting Eustice do most of the chores. He’d tried to get Eustice to stay in Yelsia. He’d argued that Eustice didn’t have to be a servant, and even though the eunuch insisted on staying with Zollin and Mansel, Zollin had tried to keep him from doing the small labors around their camp. But then it occurred to Zollin that it was Eustice’s only way to contribute. So he’d spoken to Mansel, and although they never ordered Eustice to do anything, the mute servant happily took care of them.
Guilt was plaguing Zollin. He wanted to have dinner with the woman from the storm, but he felt like he was betraying Brianna. He didn’t even know if she was dead, although whenever he considered that he felt like a fool. Of course she was dead, he thought to himself. The dragon, which Zollin now thought of as Offendorl’s dragon, had almost certainly killed her. And if he’d left her in the mountains, she wouldn’t have survived on her own. She had no way to hunt or protect herself. She had no gear to scale the treacherous mountain heights. And there were no reports of her anywhere in Yelsia. If she’d managed to make it to one of the villages, she would have come to Orrock, or at the very least sent word. Still there was a little part of Zollin that refused to believe she was gone, and it was furious that Zollin dared to have dinner with someone else.
It isn’t romantic, he told himself, although he hoped that it would turn romantic. The woman was beautiful, and Zollin couldn’t help but hope she found him attractive. He felt a little like a child seeking approval, but the thought of the woman being attracted to him was much more exciting. It made him feel strong and somehow confident, even though he was also scared of doing something that would break the tenuous connection he had formed with the woman.
Finally he stood up.
“Well, that’s settled then. I’ll go to dinner with this woman. You take a stroll on the deck and see if you can learn anything about Mansel.”
Eustice nodded his head and Zollin began running his fingers through his hair. The little cabin had no mirror, and neither Zollin nor Eustice had included one in their supplies. He used his hands to make sure no part of his hair was standing out at an odd angle.
“How do I look?” he asked Eustice.
The mute servant smiled and nodded, giving him a thumbs up gesture.
“Okay,” he said, “I guess I’m going to dinner.”
Zollin walked down the passageway toward the double doors of cabin where he knew the woman was staying. He could hear the moans of seasick passengers as he passed their rooms. The storm had obviously made some of them sick again. He’d seen the other passengers occasionally walking the deck, but knew some of them had been too sick to leave their cabins. The passageway seemed long and his nerves grew more jittery with every step. Guilt warred with excitement as he approached the doors. He took a deep breath before knocking firmly on the door.
It was only a moment before the door was swung open by one of the lady’s guards. He was a well built man, and well armed as well. He didn’t smile or speak, but merely stepped aside. The lady’s cabin was much larger than Zollin’s. There were padded chairs, rugs, a long dining table and two large portholes. The lady came sweeping out of one of the side rooms. She was in a new dress with a low neckline and a billowing skirt. She had a pearl necklace and matching earrings. Her hair was dry now, and pinned up with small, exotic looking combs. She smiled, revealing white teeth, but the gesture made her look almost menacing, like a wolf eyeing its next meal.
“We haven’t been formally introduced,” she said. “My name is Roleena of Shupor.”
“It is nice to meet you,” Zollin said, feeling more self-conscious by the minute. “I’m Zollin Quinnson.”
“I hope you’re hungry, Zollin,” she said, taking his hand and leading him over to the dining table. “A good storm always gets my appetite up. You don’t get seasick, do you?”
“No,” Zollin said.
“Good.”
He pulled out her chair for her at the head of the long table and then took a seat beside her.
“Are you traveling somewhere in particular?” he asked, immediately feeling embarrassed by the question.
“Aren’t we all, Zollin?” she said, fixing him with a piercing stare.
“I just…” He struggled to find the words. “What I meant was, where are you going?”
“Oh, that is a good question. I’m going to Brimington Bay. And you?”
“We’re going to Brimington Bay too,” he said.
A servant appeared with wine. It was an older man, walking slowly, his back straight and stiff. He carried a bottle of wine and two crystal goblets. He also had a white towel draped over one arm.
“This is Marcus, my personal valet,” Roleena explained. “He’s cooked us quiet a meal this evening.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Marcus said in a deep voice.
He sat the bottle of wine down on the table and removed the cork with a little tool. Then he turned to Zollin and sat the cork down and waited. Zollin wasn’t sure what to do. He enjoyed a glass of wine, especially after working magic. Stronger alcohol didn’t appeal to him, and in fact many wines were too pungent for his taste. He felt embarrassed and yet frozen in panic at the same time.
“Would you care to inspect the cork?” Roleena asked.
“No, I’m not a connoisseur.”
Roleena smiled as if Zollin had just affirmed what she already knew. Zollin had spent time with King Felix, as well as some of his nobles and the generals of his army, but none of them had taken on airs the way Roleena was doing.
“That’s fine,” she said. “This is a very nice red, from Ortis. I find their wine delicate, but with a complexity of flavor.”
Zollin nodded, still not sure what to say. He watched as Marcus poured the wine from the bottle into a large, strangely shaped glass decanter. Then he left the room.
“Marcus enjoys the appropriate decorum. In fact, he feels that by inviting you here for dinner alone I’ve been too forward. I hope you don’t agree,” she said.
“No, of course not. I’m from a small village. I don’t know much about decorum.”
“Well, I sensed that perhaps you were a kindred spirit when you joined me on the command deck during the storm. Most people prefer to hide in their cabins, but I feel that a storm is one of the rare occasions that make sea travel so exquisite. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“This is my first sea trip,” Zollin admitted. “But I’ve never experienced anything like the storm. It was…” he searched for the right word. He felt like admitting that it was terrifying wouldn’t be welcome. “Exhilarating,” he said.
“Yes, I thought you would understand,” she said, her smile seeming sincere for the first time that evening. “Would you mind to pour the wine?”
“Of course,” Zollin said.
He lifted the ornate bottle and poured the wine into Roleena’s goblet. Then he poured some in his own. He was surprised when Roleena tilted her goblet slightly and put her nose so far into the glass that it almost touched the wine. Then she sat back in her seat and swirled the wine before taking a sip.
“Well?” she asked. “What do you think? It’s much better than the swill they serve in the inns at the Twin Cities.”
Zollin took a sip, but all he could tell was that it tasted like wine. He could taste the grape flavor even though the liquid seemed to burn its way down his throat. He waited for a moment for the familiar heat to spread through his body. It mingled with the heat from his magic in a way that he could only describe as delicious.
“I think you like it,” she said with a small giggle. “To be honest, I didn’t think you would.”
“I like wine,” Zollin said. “But I admit I haven’t had the chance to travel much. I haven’t tried many wines. This is my first from outside Yelsia.”
“Oh, no,” Roleena said. “There are many things that our fellow countrymen do quite well, but winemaking isn’t one of them.” She smiled, sipping more wine. “What is it that takes you to Osla, Zollin? You’re a healer, right?”