He had a point. Of course, the sun would provide the direction, but despite those who believe they know everything, much of the day a swimmer who lived on land would not know the direction. With the sun high in the sky, it was hard to tell, and a person might swim in circles.
I turned away and observed the few others venturing from their cabins. A woman and man, both friends of Damon, glanced my way, then averted their eyes in the usual manner of those who rarely interfaced with royalty. Their action assured me they were of a lower class.
There had been another man who also watched me, but he had disappeared while on our last voyage. Will gave me no information when I asked him about it, but his hesitation before answering was suspect. Some thought the man fell overboard. I thought he might have had help from Will in getting over the railing.
The ship made a slight turn in the direction of the storm after the sailors put up more sail and pulled ropes taut. The purser stood on the deck above where the wheelhouse was located. His eye met mine. I gestured for him to come. He did, slipping down a ladder and crossing the rolling deck as easily as a cat might.
“May I be of service, Princess?”
He was a stuffy, prideful man, but had his uses. “The extra sail?”
“Ah, the Gallant is a fine, fast ship. Slim at the waist and tall in the sails. The captain is trying to outrun the storm. The winds are higher near the storm’s edge so that we can sail faster.”
According to Kendra, there was a pair of ships on the other side of the storm, each with two mages. They were creating the impassible storm, preventing all ships from Trager sailing to the ports of Kondor by blocking the narrow passage. Without even knowing about the two ships, the captain might have stumbled on a viable solution.
The Gallant was a smaller ship than the usual cargo vessels in the nearby waters, with a narrower hull and more sails, as the purser had said. She was built for speed to please passengers and carried little cargo. If the mages were aboard a normal vessel, especially a fat cargo ship, the Gallant might easily outrun them and then turn and make her way south where the sea was wider and the water calm.
“Why are we sailing closer to the storm?” I asked.
The purser glanced around and moved a step closer as his voice lowered. “There are rumors that the storm is not natural. It does not move. Some say a mage caused it. If so, he must be on a ship.”
I feigned surprise. “And if we manage to sail around the storm? What will the mage do then?”
The purser’s arrogant demeanor wilted. He obviously hadn’t considered that outcome. His eye went to the bridge on the higher deck where the captain would be. “I think I’m needed.”
As he raced back up the ladder, I had little doubt that he was going to rush to the captain with a new question about the mage. No matter, the captain should be planning ahead. That was the function of his position, much like her father’s. He didn’t so much as rule, as he anticipated problems and solved them before they became major obstacles. Captains of ships are similar to kings; only their kingdoms are smaller and float. The job is much the same.
I left the deck and went past the door to my private cabin, and the next, which was for the storage of my belongings. The third and last was a cabin located on the port side for my aides to work in, an office of sorts. They were inside, maps spread, notes jotted, ink drying. The three of them were hammering out the details of a possible pair of treaties. They debated, contrasted, and argued every word, much as they would when we met with the ruler of Kondor. They had one treaty for a king to sign and another for a committee, a Council of Nine, depending on who we dealt with.
The three worked on verbiage, as well as what might be demanded, and what Dire might relinquish. There were lists of gives and takes. If we gave this, Kondor would agree to that. It was all going to be presented where we gave little and received all, however, those in Kondor would have their interpretations and demands. My staff tried to anticipate all eventualities and account for them.
“Princess,” Lady Grace said as she attempted a curtsy in the limited space despite my instructions to the opposite. The ship was no place for royal manners. She still wore a purple-yellowish bruise on her forehead and a cut under her eye from a fall during the last storm.
“How are you faring?” I asked.
Soren answered with the taint of disapproval in his tone, “If only Kondor would allow us to draft the entire treaty without their input.”
I’d never heard humor from him but laughed as if misunderstanding. By myself. He didn’t, Lady Grace averted her eyes to remain uninvolved, but clearly disapproved of him speaking like that, and Timor, a younger version of Soren simply looked confused. I said, “The ship is turning into the storm again. I don’t expect us to face what we did before, but you had better be prepared and have everything secured. No doubt, we will find some rough seas.”
The eyes of all three changed. The last time the Gallant had sailed into the same storm it had barely escaped. The people on my staff had never been to sea, and the mention of another storm instilled fear. I searched for calming, but true, words and failed to find them.
I went to my cabin and did as I’d suggested they do. Everything was placed where it was secure, and if possible tied down against the rolling of the ship. A knock at my door relieved me of endlessly preparing for a storm I didn’t wish to face.
When I opened the door, a man stood in the passage. He had boarded in Dire and sailed with us. His age was older than most on the ship, perhaps fifty, his hat was being wrung in his nervous hands, and his voice came slow and stilted, in a soft voice hardly above a whisper. “Princess, there are rumors.”
“There are always rumors,” I snapped. “Are you here to share some of them?”
“May I step inside? There are eyes and ears everywhere on this ship.”
I threw the door to my cabin open and stepped back. Why allow a man into my private quarters to spread rumors? I couldn’t answer that. However, it was too late. He closed the door as I curled the fingers on my hands into fists, just in case.
He noticed the action. “Princess, I mean you no harm and suspect you have been trained to fight to defend yourself and you would quickly defeat me.”
“You said there are rumors.”
“Some believe a mage is creating the storm to our starboard.”
I didn’t know if he had any useful information or not. We were feeling each other out, deciding what, and how much, to share. However, I was unwilling to provide fodder for his rumors if that was all he wanted. “The mages are blamed for everything.”
He swallowed hard; his eyes moved from mine as if he wished he’d never knocked at my door. Then, in a gesture of honor and pride, he squared his shoulders and looked me in my eyes. “Princess, I have been a loyal subject of Dire, as was my father and his. The rumors I carry may not be of substance, but if I did not bring them, and any harm came to my royal family, I could not forgive myself.”
He sounded sincere. A nod of my head allowed him to continue.
“I travel in my work, to all the southern kingdoms. The mages in many lands are killing kings, they say. They, the mages, take over and rule as councils or advisors.”
He seemed to believe as we did, but he was still holding back. “Mages have always supported the crown and helped Dire. You believe something has changed.”
He tilted his head as he heard footsteps in the passageway and didn’t speak until he opened my door a crack and peered out to be sure we were alone. Then, after a deep breath, he said, “There is one mage nobody knows, but there are whispers—he’s a very young one with ambitions of his own, ambitions beyond those of any king. He orders the other mages to do his will. Or they die.”