"Thank you, lady." He drank the water, tasting the cool clean of it, then sent the jar back up.
She leaned her elbows on the railing and gazed down at him. She wore a long-sleeved dark green blouse tucked into loose-legged white breeches that showed off her womanly figure, and knee-high black leather boots that matched the wide black leather belt that supported a small bag and a brace of throwing knives.
"There's more work to be done about this ship if you've a mind," she said.
"Aye. I'd like that very much."
"Captain Tynnel says you're bound for Baldur's Gate."
"Aye."
"Hoping to find another ship there?"
"If I can."
She raised an eyebrow. "Impress the captain during the rest of the journey as you already have, maybe you'll find a berth here by the time you reach Baldur's Gate."
Jherek nodded. He didn't think a berth on Breezerunner had been what Madame litaar had in mind, but he felt stubborn about what he was supposed to do. Live, that you may serve. Perhaps he could do that best aboard Breezerunner. It felt good to think about.
"I've been ship's mage aboard Breezerunner for five years," she told him. "I've got some influence of my own."
Jherek didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't.
"I've also taken the liberty to talk to the captain on your behalf regarding the work you're doing on Breezerunner. Keep working and you'll be compensated. It won't be a full hand's pay-our budget won't allow it-but you should see a good return on your booking passage."
"You don't have to do that, lady."
"Sabyna."
She remained quiet, waiting till he looked her in the eye.
"Sabyna," he repeated.
"I've also noticed that you usually take a meal to your cabin and eat by yourself."
"Aye. You seem to be quite observant, la-Sabyna." Jherek felt a little irritated with her attention. He hadn't noticed that she'd been observing him, and it unnerved him to think that she might be watching him so closely.
"I'm ship's mage," she stated simply. "It's my responsibility to keep Breezerunner seaworthy and in good repair. I also log our charts for navigational purposes, check up on our pilot, and keep track of where everything is on this ship. I've developed a good eye for detail and I'm not easily distracted."
"You sound like you're very good at what you do."
"Thank you. I am."
Despite the unease he felt, Jherek had to smile at the confidence the woman projected.
"You're laughing at me?" she asked.
"No, lady."
"Sabyna."
"Aye."
"You are laughing."
Amazed at the lightness in his heart in spite of the depression that had clung to him over the past three days, Jherek looked up at her again. "Maybe a little."
Her thin brows arched over her eyes. "Over these next few days if you stay interested in helping out with ship's chores, you'll find out exactly how good I am."
"I look forward to the challenge."
"That's good, but for the moment, I'd be interested in knowing whether you'd look forward to having evening-feast with me tonight, as part of your repayment for the work you're doing."
The offer took Jherek totally by surprise. He swung along at Breezerunner's side as she cut through the nearly flat waves, feeling more at home hanging from the ropes than in dealing with the ship's mage's question.
"Is there a problem?" she asked.
"No."
"I don't think you're in a position to tell me that you've got a previous engagement," Sabyna said. "I'm not one to tolerate lying."
Her words stung Jherek, knowing he'd lied to her already and there was no way to take it back.
"So if you tell me anything other than yes, or that you'd rather not dine with me, I'd be inclined to cut these ropes and see how long you can float." She sounded gruffly threatening, but merriment lighted her eyes.
Jherek felt the pressure close in around him. The recent experience with the Amnians burned in his mind. Yiell's selfish and temporary interest in him had changed his whole life. He didn't want to think something else bad was going to happen, but it wouldn't have surprised him. A polite refusal was on his tongue when it betrayed him. He glanced up at the ship's mage and said, "Aye."
"Good," she exclaimed. "I'll come around to your cabin this eve and collect you."
He nodded, feeling like a boulder had lodged at the back of his throat and he just couldn't swallow it. His stomach turned flips.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Malorrie," he replied, choosing the phantom's name because it was seldom heard and he knew he'd always react to it, but it was another lie between them. It seemed he couldn't stop telling them.
"I've got a further warning then, Malorrie."
He shaded his eyes as he looked up at her, wondering if she'd be able to see the lie in his gaze.
"I cook my own meals, and I like exotic, spicy dishes. We may find out how strong your stomach is."
She smiled at him, then she was gone and Jherek found himself even more drenched in sweat than he'd been before. He forced himself to concentrate on the job at hand and not dwell on the things that might go wrong that evening.
Back on deck with the sun setting out in the Sea of Swords, looking like a molten gold ball settling into the flat azure of the ocean, Jherek waited his turn in line at the community water barrel bolted into the railing. The man in front of him took out a large dipperful of fresh water and poured it over his own head, washing away some of the accumulated dried salt that had come from the sea breeze.
The men in line behind Jherek complained, some of them loudly.
Jherek didn't blame them. Fresh water when a ship got becalmed was worth its weight in gold. It wasn't meant to be wasted on a voyage.
The man took another dipperful and splashed it over his head again, ignoring the complaints. He was a big man, broad shouldered and heavy bellied, easily weighing a hundred pounds more than Jherek. He had shaggy black hair that fell below his shoulders, a full beard that reached to his chest, and enough body hair to make him look even more like an ape. Small daggers as long as a finger hung from earrings in both ears. He wore a cutlass in a sash and had two fingers missing from his left hand.
"Damn it, Aysel," someone growled, "back away from the water and stop wasting it."
Aysel muttered a curse and tossed the dipper back into the barrel. He ran his thick fingers through his wet hair and walked to the side.
Jherek took the small cloth from his kit, wet it in the barrel, then wrung it out and stepped away. Working carefully to conserve the water in the cloth, he washed the salt from his face, then worked on the rest of his body that had been exposed to the spray.
"You pay attention, Aysel," a harsh voice used to command barked.
Drawn to the voice, Jherek looked up to the forecastle. Captain Tynnel stood there, arms crossed over his chest. He was a short man of small stature, but Jherek had heard nothing but good of the man while he'd been aboard. His hair was the bleached blond of old bone and he had a hatchet head for a face beneath his plumed, tri-corner hat. His piercing blue eyes belonged on a falcon. He pointed at Jherek and said, "There's a man knows how to treasure water. I don't see you having some of that same respect, you're going to be a long time between ships when we reach Baldur's Gate. Understand my drift, sailor?"
"Aye, sir," Aysel responded with a clenched jaw. He shot Jherek a murderous glare then stomped off. Several of the sailors called out jeers behind his back.
"You," the captain said, pointing his bony chin at Jherek, "boy."