If they’d seen fighting themselves, on the other hand, their questions were blunt, tempered less by curiosity and more by a need to share their own experiences. While he’d avoided discussing the War through his years in Bull Hollow, Geth found himself opening up to Vennet. “All over,” he said. “That’s how it was with a Blademarks company.”
“Was?” Vennet raised an eyebrow.
“Singe stayed in the Blademarks. I left.”
Geth didn’t offer anything more and Vennet didn’t ask. “I can understand moving around,” the captain said. He looked back at the water again. “I earned my commission doing transport work along the coast of the Bitter Sea, from Aundair across the Karrnathi coast to the Lhazaar Principalities. Sometimes a run down Scions Sound to Cyre or Thrane. That was a touchy trip.”
The shifter gave him a smile. “I manned a ballista on the Cyran side of the Brey River for five months, shooting at any ship trying to make that run.”
“Did you ever hit anything?”
“Did you ever get hit?”
Vennet laughed and they swapped the bottle again. “Where else?” he asked.
Geth dug into his memories, trying to remember the best of his time with the Frostbrand. “All over northern Cyre. Up into Karrnath. A little bit on the Talenta Plains. Wherever our commander drew a contract.” He looked at Vennet. “Transport work sounds more peaceful.”
The captain shook his head. “I saw trouble enough. It’s hard to catch a Lyrandar ship if the captain doesn’t want to be caught, but there are always pirates and hostile ships willing to give it a try. Lyrandar doesn’t float warships, though. We leave the hard fighting to those on land-and they’re welcome to it.” Vennet rubbed his thumbs across the bottle. “There was one assignment. Transport accompanying an Aundairian raid on a Karrnathi logging town. After the Eldeen Reaches broke away, Aundair came up short on quality timber for shipbuilding, but Karrnath’s forests were still thick.” His voice dropped. “The town should have held out against the raid, but somehow the Aundairian soldiers broke through. I didn’t get any further from my ship than the docks, but it was like they turned into monsters when they got into that town. What they did …”
Geth’s mouth went dry. A queasy nausea returned to his stomach. “You’re talking about Narath.”
Vennet looked at him with haunted eyes. “You’ve heard of it.” He gave a bitter chuckle. “Of course you have. Who hasn’t?”
“Aye,” said Geth. He drew a rough breath. “I wouldn’t mention that story to Singe.”
“Because it was Aundairians who did it?” Vennet grimaced. “I know how he feels. Believe me, I don’t talk about it often either. For a long time, it was like a stain on my soul.” He took another long drink from the bottle, then offered it to Geth again.
This time the shifter shook his head. Vennet nodded and shoved a cork back into the bottle’s neck. “Enough for tonight,” he agreed. He clapped a hand across Geth’s shoulder. “Maybe when we reach Zarash’ak, though? There’s a tavern I know-”
The sound of running feet on the deck saved Geth from having to decline the half-elf’s offer. Both men turned at the same time as one of Vennet’s crew slid to a stop in front of them. “Captain! Trouble in the aft hold!”
Vennet’s eyes flashed angrily. “Natrac’s gang again?” The crewman nodded and Vennet cursed, then looked to Geth. “I wouldn’t normally ask a passenger to step into a fight, but some of Natrac’s clients are brutes. A veteran of the Blademarks would be a good person to have at my back.”
The prospect of a good fight stirred Geth’s spirit. “I’m with you,” he said.
“Good man.” Vennet stuffed the bottle into a pocket and strode toward the stern of the ship, sparing a hard glare for the crewman. “Natrac’s in my cabin. Tell him to get his backside aft!”
The crewman saluted and dashed off.
Lightning on Water’s crew were gathered around the top of the ladder-like steps leading down to the aft hold-they leaped back at Vennet’s approach. The sounds of a roaring brawl thundered up from below. One of the crew called out to Vennet. “They’ve been arguing for a while, captain, but the fighting only just broke out.”
The sudden splintering of wood punctuated her report. “Kol Korran’s wager, if they damage my ship, I’ll take the price out of Natrac’s gray hide!” spat Vennet. He pointed at two burly sailors who stood by with thick wooden pins. “You and you. After us.”
He thundered down the steps into the hold with sure-footed ease. Geth sprang after him, ready for anything.
At least he thought he was ready for anything. At the bottom of the stairs, he froze and bared his teeth. A snarl tore itself out of his throat.
The dim, magical light that lit the hold shone on a dozen bodies, most struggling, a few stretched out senseless on the floor. In the center of the chaos-fighting in a whirlwind of fists, feet, knees, and elbows-was Ashi!
CHAPTER 8
Dandra bit her lip to hold back her laughter as Natrac spun out the punchline of a long and embarrassingly self-deprecating anecdote. He probably wouldn’t have noticed if she had smiled, though. All of his attention was on Singe. The wizard sat near the head of the captain’s table, to the right of Vennet’s empty chair. His face was a stern mask of disapproval. He had to be working even harder than her, Dandra knew, to keep a straight face against Natrac’s frantic attempts to ingratiate himself.
In truth, Singe had told her their first night on Lighting on Water, Natrac had been right all along. House Deneith had no interest in such a small, isolated operation as Natrac’s. Still, he hadn’t been able to resist winding up the blustering half-orc. The ship’s other passengers had picked up on the joke as well. Even thin, hunched Pandon kept his face buried in a goblet to hide his grin as Natrac’s anecdote lurched to an end. The cabin was silent. Dandra was certain she saw a drop of sweat run down the half-orc’s face as he waited for a reaction from Singe.
In the back of her mind, Tetkashtai gave a silent sniff of disapproval. Childish. Dandra ignored her. Singe straightened and she could see a grave and measured response growing in his eyes.
It never reached his lips. The door of the cabin swung open and a panting crewman burst through to point at Natrac. “Captain says get yourself a ft!”
Natrac’s gray skin grew even paler and for a moment he seemed frozen between responding to the captain and toadying to Singe. The urgency in the crewman’s face was obvious, though.
“Go!” Singe shouted at Natrac. “Go!”
The half-orc leaped from his seat and raced out of the cabin. Vennet’s crewman went with him. The silence around the captain’s table was real.
Dandra stood up. “We should see what it is.”
Singe nodded and rose as well.
They reached the hatch of the aft hold hard on Natrac’s heels. Dandra could hear the sounds of fighting below. A brawl had broken out. The crew of Lightning on Water were clustered around the hatch. Vennet, Geth, and two big crewmen were disappearing down into the hold.
Only a heartbeat later, a terrible snarl ripped up from below.
“Geth!” Dandra exclaimed.
“Twelve moons,” cursed Singe. “That can’t be good!”
He pushed through the clustered crew, shoved past Natrac, and darted down the steps into the hold. Dandra followed close behind him. Down below, the two big crewmen were laying into Natrac’s brawling clients. Vennet had waded into the fight as well, pulling the combatants apart with a ferocious ease that belied his slight frame, cursing blasphemously the whole time.
Geth, however, was bounding straight to the heart of the free-for-all. The tall woman who fought there whirled at his approach. Anger washed over a face flushed from combat and Ashi gave the screaming battle cry of the Bonetree hunters.
Light of il-Yannah! wailed Tetkashtai. Where did she come from?