Without speaking, ignoring the young man's embarrassmentand concern that his laxness at his duties might be reported, Darrick carved a thick hunk of black bread from one of the loaves Cook had prepared, then poured himself a mug of green tea. Tea in one hand, thick hunk of bread soaking in the chowder in the tin plate, Darrick headed back up to the deck.
He stood amidships, listening to the rustle and crackle of the canvas overhead. With the knowledge they carried and the fact that they were in clear waters, Captain Tollifer had kept the sails up, taking advantage of the favorable winds. Lonesome Star sloshed through the moon-kissed rollers that covered the ocean's surface. Occasional light flickers passed by in the water that weren't just reflections of the ship's lanterns posted as running lights.
Standing on the heaving deck on practiced legs, Darrick ate, managing the teacup and the tin plate in one hand-plate on the cup-and eating with his other hand. He let the black bread marinate in the chowder to soften it up, otherwise he'd have had to chew it for what seemed like forever to break it down. The chowder was made from shrimp and fish stock, mixed with spices from the eastern lands, and had thick chunks of potatoes. It was almost hot enough to burn the tongue even after being dipped on bread and cooled by the night winds.
Darrick didn't let himself think of the nights he and Mat had shared dogwatches together, with Mat telling wildly improbable stories he'd either heard somewhere or made up then and there and swore it was gospel. It had all been fun to Mat, something to keep them awake during the long, dead hours and to keep Darrick from ever thinking back to the things that had happened in Hillsfar.
"I'm sorry about your friend," a quiet voice said.
Distanced as he was from his emotions, Darrick wasn't even surprised to recognize Lhex's voice behind him. He kept gazing out to sea, chewing on the latest lump of black bread and chowder he'd put into his mouth.
"I said-" the boy began again in a slightly louder voice.
"I heard you," Darrick interrupted.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Darrick never once turned to face the boy.
"I wanted to talk to you about the demon," Lhex said.
"No," Darrick replied.
"I am the king's nephew." The boy's tone hardened somewhat.
"And yet you are not the king, are you?"
"I understand how you're feeling."
"Good. Then you'll understand if I trouble you for my own peace while I'm standing watch."
The boy was silent for a long enough time that Darrick had thought he'd gone away. Darrick thought there might have been some trouble with the captain in the morning over his rudeness, but he didn't care.
"What are those lighted patches in the water?" Lhex asked.
Irritated and not even wanting to feel that because long years of experience had shown him that even the smallest emotion could snowball into the feelings of entrapment that put him out of control, Darrick turned to the boy. "What the hell are you still doing up, boy?"
"I couldn't sleep." The boy stood on the deck in bare feet and a sleeping gown he must have borrowed from the captain.
"Then go find a new way of amusing yourself. I'll not have it done at my expense."
Lhex wrapped his arms around himself, obviously chilled in the cool night air. "I can't. You're the only one who saw the demon."
The only one alive, Darrick thought, but he stopped himself before he could think too far. "There were other men in that cavern."
"None of them stayed long enough to see the things you saw."
"You don't know things I saw."
"I was there when you talked with the captain. Everything you know is important."
"And what matter would it be of yours?" Darrick demanded.
"I've been priest-trained for the Zakarum Church and guided my whole life by the Light. In two more years, I'll test for becoming a full priest."
"You're no more than a boy now," Darrick chided, "and you'll be little more than a boy then. You should spend your time worrying about boy things."
"No," Lhex said. "Fighting demons is to be my calling, Darrick Lang. Don't you have a calling?"
"I work to keep a meal between my belly and my spine," Darrick said, "to stay alive, and to sleep in warm places."
"Yet you're an officer, and you've come up through the ranks, which is both an admirable and a hard thing to do. A man without a calling, without passion, could not have done something like that."
Darrick grimaced. Evidently Lhex's identity as the king's nephew had drawn considerable depth in Captain Tollifer's eyes.
"I'm going to be a good priest," the boy declared. "And to fight demons, I know I have to learn about demons."
"None of this has anything to do with me," Darrick said. "Once Captain Tollifer hands my report to the king, my part in this is finished."
Lhex eyed him boldly. "Is it?"
"Aye, it is."
"You didn't strike me as the kind of man who'd let a friend's death go unavenged."
"And who, then, am I supposed to blame for Mat's death?" Darrick demanded.
"Your friend died by Kabraxis's hand," Lhex said.
"But not till you made us go there after I told you all I wanted to do was leave," Darrick said in a harsh voice. "Not till I waited too long to get out of that cavern, then couldn't outrun the skeletons that pursued us." He shook his head. "No. If anybody's to blame for Mat's death, it's you and me."
A serious look filled the boy's face. "If you want to blame me, Darrick Lang, then feel free to blame me."
Vulnerable, feeling his emotions shudder and almost slip from his control, Darrick looked at the boy, amazed at the way he could stand up to him in the dark night. "I do blame you," Darrick told him.
Lhex looked away.
"If you choose to fight demons," Darrick went on, giving in to the cruelty that ran within him, "you'll have a short life. At least you won't need a lot of planning."
"The demons must be fought," the boy whispered.
"Not by the likes of me," Darrick said. "A king with an army, or several kings with armies, that's what it would take. Not a sailor."
"You lived after seeing the demon," Lhex said. "There must be a reason for that."
"I was lucky," Darrick said. "Most men meeting demons don't have such luck."
"Warriors and priests fight demons," Lhex said. "The legends tell us that without those heroes, Diablo and his brothers would still be able to walk through this world."
"You were there when I gave Captain Tollifer my report," Darrick said. The boy hadn't shown any reluctance to throw his weight around with the captain, either, and Tollifer had reluctantly allowed him to sit in during the debriefing the morning before. "You know everything I know."
"There are seers who could examine you. Sometimes when great magic is worked around an individual, traces of it remain within that individual."
"I'll not be poked and prodded," Darrick argued. He pointed to the patches of light gliding through the sea. "You asked what those were."
Lhex turned his attention to the ocean, but his expression revealed that he'd rather be following his own tack in the conversation.
"Some of those," Darrick said, "are fire-tail sharks, named so because they glow in such a manner. The light attracts nocturnal feeders and brings them within striking distance of the sharks. Other light patches are Rose ofMoon jellyfish that can paralyze a man unlucky enough to swim into reach of their barbed tentacles. If you want to learn about the sea, there's much I can teach you. But if you want to talk about demons, I'll have no more of it. I've learned more than I ever care to know about them."