Southern Fire

Kheda reminded himself of what he had come looking for. 'Do you have any grey spear, or you might know it as deer leaf?'

'I have,' she replied obligingly, finding a handful of the pointed leaves with their downy grey pelt of hairs. 'What will you give me for it?'

Kheda reached into a pocket and produced a rustlenut shell packed with speckled salve. 'This is good against burns, from fire or rope.'

Curious, the woman took the shell and sniffed. 'Fowl grease?' She sniffed again as Kheda nodded. 'Quince glaze? What else?'

Kheda smiled. 'I'll tell you if you've any aidour to trade for it.'

'Fair enough.' The woman produced a sprig of tiny green leaves dotted with vivid red flowers. 'Well?' She held it tantalisingly out of reach, her smile teasing him.

'Penala,' Kheda told her. 'Dried is as good as fresh.'

She pursed her lips. 'That's an interesting mix. Where are you from, friend?' There was growing interest in her pale barbarian eyes.

'The far south.' Kheda hesitated and then sat down.

The herb woman's smile was inviting as she drew up her knees and laced her hands around them. She wore malachite beads around both the elegant ankles showing beneath the canthira-patterned hem of her dress. 'What brings you so far from home?'

'An omen.' Kheda smiled to mitigate any offence in his brief reply.

At least a soothsayer's infuriating beard means no one will ask anything else, when you tell them you're travelling thanks to some augury. Would that mean no questions in that intimacy after loving? It's been a long and wearisome voyage with no tenderness to ease my path.

The herb woman looked at him, concern wrinkling her forehead. 'There's bad trouble down there, from all I hear. Magic abroad.'

'You need not fear such things hereabouts, surely?' Kheda tried to keep his voice casual. 'Don't you have lore to ward away wizards in the northern reaches?'

'No.' The herb woman looked puzzled. 'Where did you ever hear tell of such things?'

'Down to the south.' Kheda shrugged, swallowing hard to contain his frustration.

Down to the south but never here, not in all the domains I've visited, all the beaches I've wandered and people I've talked to. They all shrug with the same bemusement and wonder how I could come up with such a notion as they add my herb lore to their own and I go on empty-handed. Maybe

I should take some other payments. Haven't I earned a taste of sweetness by now, out of all the women who've offered me one?

'Cadirn!'

Kheda looked up to see Bee approaching, an unremarkable man at his shoulder, black hair and beard cropped short like most rowers, neck and shoulders carrying enough muscle to suggest a fair amount of experience with an oar.

How am I to learn even that there is nothing to learn, if my time ashore is so often cut short like this? Or should I take this frustration as a timely reminder of my distant wives?

'That was quick.' Kheda coughed to hide his ill-temper.

'Quicker than I imagined,' Bee agreed. 'There's barely a ship looking to set rowers ashore or pick them up, bar ourselves and a couple heading over to Galcan waters. This is Fenal.'

'Used to rowing a shared oar?' Kheda glanced at the man's dagger but didn't recognise the style. He was finding that more and more, the further north they rowed.

'Several seasons now.' Fenal looked warily at him. 'You're a soothsayer?'

'I have a little healing knowledge and some skills at reading portents.' Kheda shrugged. 'I'm taking an oar to the northern reaches.'

The herb woman looked at Kheda with new interest and Bee grinned at Fenal. 'You'll be sharing his oar, as long as he says you're healthy and not ill-omened.'

Kheda stood up. 'Let's have a look at your eyes, over here where the light's better.'

'Every ship needs a healer.' Fenal turned his face obligingly. 'A death on board is a foul omen.'

'You sound certain of that.' Kheda was pleased to see no sign of any yellow in the whites of Fenal's dark eyes.

'That's why I'm looking for a new berth. Don't worry, it wasn't disease.' Fenal stiffened as Kheda pulled down his lower eyelid to see the colour there. 'A man went overboard and sharks got him.'

Bee grimaced. 'There aren't many worse omens than that.'

Kheda took Fenal's hands in his own, pressing hard on the man's fingertips. The blood flowed back quickly, pink beneath the pale nails. 'Let me smell your breath.' He grinned. 'Your last meal had sharpnuts in it.'

But there's no sickly sweetness to hint at honey hunger devouring your blood, no acrid acidity to betray any stomach malady.

'Hard to avoid them round here,' shrugged Fenal with a rueful grin.

'Any old injuries that might give you grief?' He watched Fenal in case the man let a hand drift to a weakened knee or a sore elbow. He didn't. 'Your piss runs clear? No pain?'

'As long as I'm on a boat where we get a decent water ration,' Fenal answered with unexpected sourness.

'We can promise you that,' Bee assured him.

'You've more than a little healing in you, southerner,' approved the herb woman. 'You'll find a welcome in the northernmost domains.'

'Cadirn, I've had a notion,' interrupted Bee. 'Now the worst of this storm's gone over. Master Godine will be dining with the Beloc ladies, so why don't we go back and eat on the ship? Any portents for Fenal's joining us will be clearer aboard, won't they?'

And you won't have to part with any of your precious trinkets for the sake of a meal ashore.

'Indeed.' Despite the disappointment he saw in the herb woman's eyes, Kheda yielded to the inevitable. They walked through the slackening rain back to the galley's rowboat. 'Which side do you want to row, Fenal?'

'Whichever suits you.' Fenal rubbed idly at one shoulder. 'You do swap sides aboard ship, don't you?'

'Every couple of days,' promised Bee as he took the seat in the stern.

'Last overseer I had wasn't inclined to let us move from the oar he gave us.' Fenal settled his oar against the pintle and checked the rope grommet securing it out of evident habit.

'Godine sees no benefit in an oar deck full of hunchbacks.' Kheda nodded to Fenal and set the stroke. Water pattered down on their backs, cooling and welcome, settling into the steady rain that would last until sunset or beyond now, bringing a freshness and good humour to the air. As they rowed, Kheda watched the shore retreating.

Can I find an excuse to go ashore again tomorrow, before we leave? Is there any point, besides taking that herb woman's interest to a conclusion? Is there anything to be learned here? How long am I going to go on looking? How long before I forget Daish Kheda and truly become Cadirn, useful rower, healer and augur? Wouldn't that be a better fate than returning empty-handed to my domain?

Hauling on his oar with mounting frustration, he broke the rhythm of rowing with Fenal and the boat lurched awkwardly.

'Sorry,' frowned Fenal.

'No, my fault,' said Kheda shortly.

They rowed on in silence, without further mishap, until they reached the galley.

'There,' said Bee happily. 'I knew we could eat on ship.'

'Got a bowl?' Kheda reached up to tie the rowboat securely to the end of the galley's stern ladder as Bee climbed aboard.

'And a spoon,' Fenal grinned, patting a leather shoulder sack that had travelled a good few domains.

'Let's find you something to fill them both.' Kheda waved him up to the galley's main decks. 'You can earn a meal working the rowboat today, whether or not you join us.'

And I can earn my keep playing soothsayer for Godine. I may as well repay him with some guidance, even if I can find none for myself