“Yes, but I dabble in a lot of things. This trip is just routine business,” he said. “And you?”
“My mother requires silks from Osla. She won’t wear anything else. I make the trip three or four times a year, depending on how often she wants new clothes.”
“Oh, that’s…nice of you,” Zollin managed to say. The idea of buying clothes more than once a year would have made Quinn laugh out loud.
Marcus came back into the main room of the cabin carrying a large platter. It had several small birds neatly arranged with vegetables and a dark sauce. He sat the platter down and slowly walked away.
“Doves,” Roleena said, “excellent.”
Marcus returned with plates and served their food. He was slow and deliberate, even though the ship was rocking more than normal from the recent storm.
They ate quietly, no one speaking. Zollin was very aware of the guard near the door, and that Marcus was watching his every move from across the room. Zollin felt like he should initiate more conversation, but with so many spectators he felt it wiser to concentrate on eating. He had just finished his first dove, which was a small bird, so getting the meat off the bones without snapping them into splinters was a delicate job. He wasn’t quite full, but he decided to finish eating before he did something truly embarrassing. He had just slid back his plate and wiped his mouth with the linen napkin Marcus had given him when there was a banging at the door.
The guard drew his long dagger and the other guard came running from one of the side rooms. Marcus seemed shocked but Roleena continued eating as if nothing had happened. She nibbled her food in small, quick bites.
The banging intensified and Zollin stood up. One of the guards flung open the door and Eustice appeared. He looked disheveled and as near panic as Zollin had ever seen him.
“Eustice,” Zollin said loudly. “What is going on?”
Eustice pushed his way past the guards and hurried to Zollin, gesturing madly. He kept pointing up at the ceiling.
“What is it?” Zollin said. “You have to slow down. I don’t understand.”
Eustice was making a worried moan. He grabbed Zollin’s arm and started pulling him toward the door.
“You can’t leave,” Roleena said so simply it was as if she was discussing the weather.
“I have to,” Zollin said. “You can see something has happened.”
“I’m sure,” Roleena said. “But it is unimportant. You will stay, my guards will see to that.”
Zollin was surprised. He couldn’t imagine what was going on to get Eustice so worked up, and Roleena’s response didn’t make any sense at all. It was as if she had expected something like this to happen. Then it hit Zollin. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t recognized that he had been set up. The captain must have asked Roleena to keep Zollin occupied. Roleena’s invitation was much too out of the blue to be coincidence. In fact, she hadn’t shown any interest in Zollin whatsoever before knocking on his door. He should have seen that it was a setup from the start, but the truth was, he wanted her to like him. He wanted to think that he could attract a woman as beautiful and sophisticated as Roleena. It was what he wanted, so he hadn’t questioned it. And then the awful truth of what was happening set in. Zollin couldn’t guess what was going on above them on the main deck, but he was sure it had something to do with Mansel.
His friend had sacrificed so much on this trip, and here Zollin was eating and drinking, thinking only of himself.
“No, they won’t stop us,” Zollin said grimly. “Call them off and they won’t get hurt.” For the first time Roleena laughed a genuine laugh.
“I warned you,” Zollin said.
He marched toward the guards, both of whom had their daggers drawn now. They watched him approach with gleeful expressions that reminded Zollin of the way cats watched a cornered mouse. He smiled in return, knowing they were underestimating him.
He waved a hand and both men were knocked off their feet by an invisible wave of magical force. He heard Roleena’s laughter stop suddenly. Zollin turned to her and smiled.
“Thank you for a memorable evening,” he said coldly.
She looked so pale Zollin thought she might pass out. Eustice was tugging him through the doorway. They were a few paces down the passageway when one of Roleena’s guards ran headlong into the shield Zollin had erected behind him. There was a crunching sound followed by a grunt of pain as the guard fell to the rough wooden floor. Zollin didn’t bother to turn.
He and Eustice hurried up on deck and were shocked to see a mass of sailors all crowded near the stairs that led up to the command deck. Zollin glanced up and saw the ship’s captain staring balefully down at someone near the stairs. Zollin didn’t have to look to know that it was Mansel. He was being tied to a large post while another sailor uncoiled a wicked looking strap that was cut on one end into six individual ribbon-like sections, each one weighted down with a bit of metal.
The ship’s lieutenant had been watching the stairwell to the passenger deck and leaned over to whisper in the captain’s ear.
Zollin began pushing his way through the mob of sailors. Just as he made it to the clearing, the captain spoke.
“This is a ship matter and is strictly off limits to all passengers,” he bellowed. “Remove yourself or I’ll have you removed.”
“Captain,” Zollin said loudly. “This man is under my care and I’ll not see him harmed. Your men have already beaten him.”
“Seize him,” the captain shouted. “Lock him in irons and carry him below.”
Three sailors came forward but Zollin’s anger was causing his magic to rage. It flooded through him, appearing on his skin, snapping and popping. The energy looked like lightning and began to singe his clothes, adding smoke to the already frightening appearance. The sailors faltered and hesitated, but the man with the whip, the one with the long scar on his cheek, swung the “cat’s tail,” as the sailors called it. The ribbon-like ends rushed forward and were caught in an invisible grip just before they reached Zollin. He raised his hand and the whip was jerked magically from the sailor’s grip.
Then Zollin focused on the ropes holding Mansel. He was still sore and bruised, but he had no major injuries and Zollin was sure he could fend for himself. Zollin caused the rope to burst apart and Mansel turned around, facing the crowd of sailors.
“Who did it?” Zollin asked.
“This one,” Mansel said, pointing at the man with the scar on his cheek. “They call him Slice. He hit me from behind with a club.”
“Well, teach him some manners,” Zollin said.
“Gladly,” Mansel agreed, rolling his arms to loosen the muscles in his shoulders.
“Belay that!” shouted the captain. “I’ll have no more fighting on my ship.”
“But you’ll have an innocent man tied to a post and whipped bloody?” Zollin shouted back. “Did you even give Mansel a chance to explain what happened?”
“You don’t give orders here,” the captain growled. “I want them both in chains. Now!”
Zollin looked around at the sailors. They were afraid and none of them seemed ready to move against him, but Zollin knew it would only take one person moving forward to help them find their courage.
Zollin let his magic go, shooting crackling bolts of energy high into the evening sky. It wasn’t dark yet, the sun was just halfway into the sea far to the west, but the magical energy lit up the deck just the same. Then Zollin looked back up at the captain.
“Don’t be a fool,” he said. “Your men nearly beat Mansel to death. It wasn’t a fair fight and Mansel didn’t start it, but he’s sure as hell going to finish it.”
The captain looked frightened and didn’t speak. Zollin turned and nodded at Mansel, and the big warrior rushed forward. The sailor named Slice wasn’t a coward. Zollin had expected him to run away or fall on his knees to beg for mercy, but Slice stood his ground. At the last instant, Slice drew a small knife, surprising Zollin but not Mansel.