"I'm sorry, Catrin. I didn't want to hurt you."
"Then why did you? You could have simply told me I looked like my mother and people might recognize me!" she said, realizing even as the words left her mouth that she was being unreasonable. Nat was not to blame for the pain his message stirred within her.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"No. I'm the one who owes you an apology. I reacted poorly and have been acting like a child. Please sit with me," she said, motioning to the spot next to her. Nat eased himself slowly to the deck, grunting as he settled himself.
"I'm gettin' old."
"I've been meaning to ask you something," Catrin said. "How did you manage to swim and hold on to your staff at the same time?" She remembered her own terrifying plunge into the sea.
Nat's back stiffened and his face grew stony. "I had to choose," he said. "I had to choose between my life and my father's last wishes. I knew I couldn't swim with the staff in my hands, at least not very well. But to drop the staff would have been to betray my father. I would not allow the consequences, not again-I couldn't." The venom that poured from him, as if she had lanced a festering wound, surprised Catrin. "They said I was crazy to hold on to the staff, that only a madman would try and swim with an iron-shod stick," he said with an angry, hurt look toward the crew.
"I see," Catrin said, looking him in the eye.
It was Nat's turn to feel foolish; he seemed to realize the crew could not have known how that would hurt him. He shook his head. "I must have seemed crazy to them, risking my life to save a piece of wood and metal. There was no way they could have understood. I would have died without their help."
He sighed. He looked down at the deck, breaking eye contact with Catrin. "It pains me to trouble you more, but I must. You left before I could tell you the rest. I cannot go with you to the Greatland," he blurted.
Catrin sat back so quickly that she smacked her head on the deckhouse. Unable to formulate a response, she just stared at him in shock.
"It's not that I don't want to go. Please understand. I know I swore to protect you, and I will for as long as I can. But I cannot go to the Greatland. It was forbidden to me. I have known this time would come and have dreaded it, but now it has arrived and I shall do my duty to my father," he said.
Catrin was not sure how much more she could take.
"On his deathbed, he made me swear I would never again set foot on the Greatland. He said that if I did, something far more dreadful than Julet's death would occur, and I cannot allow that to happen."
He looked directly at Catrin. "It seems I've taken too many vows, and now I must choose, for I cannot obey them all. Will you, Catrin Volker, Herald of Istra and my dear friend, please release me from my vow?" he asked, kneeling and placing his forehead on the deck before her.
"I cannot," she said forcefully, and his head jerked up from the deck. He could not contain his utter dismay, and his face went slack. He looked into Catrin's face and was confused when she smiled back. "You can keep both vows. There is no need to choose. I am flexible, you see. You don't need to come with me to protect me and my interests; I'll need someone to look after things on the Godfist."
Nat smiled when he realized she had cleverly solved his dilemma, allowing him to keep his word and his pride. Catrin, though, had an icy feeling in her stomach. She would go to the Greatland with only Vertook to guide her, and she was not yet certain how Vertook felt about the journey. She might have to face the Zjhon alone.
"Your passage from the Falcon Isles has been paid, and I have gold for you. Members of the Vestrana should be available to help you on your quest once you reach the Greatland."
"Thank you," Catrin said, nodding, but things had changed between them. Knowing he would not accompany her, their relationship felt thin and strained. Nat sat for a while in uncomfortable silence then excused himself. It was a strange parting, and Catrin was saddened by the tension. She tried to wish Nat well, but she kept seeing herself alone in a strange land where everyone wanted her dead.
A sudden wind threatened to blow away the canvas and line. Catrin quickly gathered them up and ran to her cabin. When she stepped inside, she heard muffled shouts from the deck and the sound of men running. Throwing the line and canvas aside, she rushed back to the deck. Several crewmen ran by her on their way to the stern. When Catrin arrived, most of the crew was already gathered there, trying to get a good view.
She could see nothing at first, but Bryn saw her dilemma and hoisted her onto his shoulders. Finally able to see above the other men, Catrin saw the Stealthy Shark on the horizon, listing badly and riding too low in the water.
"They're gonna sink her."
"It's a trick."
Kenward watched in tortured silence. Unable to stand still, he paced back and forth. The Shark listed sharply, driven by the growing wind. Part of her rigging struck the water and snapped off, and it became clear this was no ruse; the Stealthy Shark was foundering and beginning to sink.
"Turn this ship around!" Kenward shouted. "Set a course for the Shark. I'll not let her sink this day."
The crew sprung into action, arming themselves as they prepared the ship to come about. They all seemed to know that Kenward was doing this for his sister. He might not be able to save her, but he could save her ship. The Eel turned slowly, and Catrin urged it forward, as if her desire might somehow propel the ship. The Stealthy Shark had fallen far behind and looked as if it might sink before they arrived.
As the Stealthy Shark gradually grew larger on the horizon, her crew became visible. One man waved his arms frantically, and the others struggled to move about the deck, clinging to the rails. The ship was out of control, and the men seemed barely able to hang on. Catrin's knees buckled when they grew close enough to see the men's faces. It was Strom who waved.
"Strom!" she screamed, and everyone aboard the Slippery Eel looked at her. "Those are my friends. Help them!" All this time they had been right behind her, and now they were in mortal danger.
Kenward could not pull his ship alongside the Shark for fear of colliding with it. The seas were choppy, and unpredictable winds gusted at gale force, so they had to lower the small boats into the water. Men scrambled down, and Catrin saw Kenward begin his descent. Without another thought, she leaped over the railing and shimmied down one of the ropes. The boat below was overfull, and the waves tossed it as Catrin wedged herself between two men.
As they approached the sinking ship, men threw ropes onto the deck. Catrin spotted Benjin and called to him as he grabbed one of the ropes. He tied it to a pair of sturdy bollards on the deck and stopped just long enough to smile and wave to her. Within moments, they were all aboard the Shark, the crew scrambling to assess and repair the damage. Vertook climbed on deck, went straight to the bilge pump, and began to crank it.
"Kenward!" Benjin shouted. "Do you have any pyre-orchid?"
"Not in many years," Kenward replied.
"Dreadroot! Have you any dreadroot?"
"Bring back dreadroot on the next trip," Kenward yelled to a sailor.
"Now! The need is urgent," Benjin insisted, and Kenward ordered the man to hurry.
Catrin had never heard of pyre-orchid, but Benjin's request for dreadroot terrified her. The only use for dreadroot she knew of was to treat severe infections, and it was only used in cases where the infection was out of control and likely to cause death. Dreadroot could wipe out rampant infections, but it was so powerful, it also killed many of the people treated with it.