"Alike?"
The comparison stunned the young sailor. He saw no way in which he and the paladin were alike.
"You're both proud, strong men. You're brave enough to face your fears, and you're a good friend."
"If I was such a good friend, Glawinn wouldn't be angry with me, and you wouldn't be so uncomfortable around me."
"I have no doubt that you and Glawinn will work things out," Sabyna told him. "That is the nature of men. And you're not responsible for my discomfort." Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. "That is caused by my own folly and foolishness. You have worries enough of your own. I only wish I could help you."
Without another word, the ship's mage turned lithely in the rigging and glided down the ropes, hard muscles playing in her arms, shoulders, and the small of her back.
Jherek almost went after her. It was only when he realized that he'd have to say something, but had no idea what, that he stopped. He watched her, though, as she dropped to the deck and strode to the stern to join Azla. They looked up at him together, then they turned and walked behind the stern castle.
The young sailor felt shamed to have been caught watching after them and quickly turned his head. He'd never felt so alone or unhappy in his life. He glanced at the two books he held, wondering what Glawinn would have thought to send him-and why.
Both books showed signs of stress, as if they had been read a number of times. The first was a thick volume called The Rider and the Lost Lady of Grave Hollow. Jherek carefully opened the front cover and read the frontispiece, discovering the work to be a romance about a Ridesman of Archendale. He flipped through the pages, smelling the scent of the parchment and the ink and remembering all the hours of pleasure he'd received from the books Malorrie had let him borrow.
The second tome was Way of War, Way of Peace by Sir Edard Valins. The book was much slimmer and promised to be a treatise on the art and thinking of combat.
Jherek closed the books, wondering why Glawinn would have sent them to him. He secured the book on the strategies of war in the rigging and opened the romance. A few hours of sailing yet remained before Black Champion reached her destination and he felt it would be best if he could stay away from other people in the meantime.
Standing at Black Champion's starboard rail, Jherek gazed out at the grotto of sea caves that made up the Dragonisle's northeastern harbor. The harbor sat back in the curvature of the rocky shoreline below and around the caves, creating a crescent of calm water scarcely able to shelter a dozen ships. Nesting pelicans and seagulls lined the craggy surface.
"These waters are filled with treacherous rocks and reefs," Azla said as she belted her scimitar around her slim hips. She tucked a fighting dagger down inside the rolled top of her left boot, then pulled on a cloak against the chill of the bitter wind. "I won't take my ship in there. We'd only be a target if two or three of the other ship's crews decided to take us as a prize. Out here, Champion can maneuver."
Glawinn gave a quick nod, accepting her judgment. He offered his hand to her at the ship's rail and said, "Lady, if I may."
The half-elf pirate captain seemed a little surprised at the offer, but she took his hand and said, "My thanks, but I am captain, not lady."
"Of course, Captain."
Azla made her way down the rope ladder hanging over the ship's side to the waiting longboat, and Glawinn followed.
Jherek hadn't noticed the change in temperature until they'd come closer to the harbor. The sun hung low on the horizon behind them, drawing long shadows over the emerald waters. He pulled his cloak more tightly around him.
Without a backward glance at him, Sabyna strode to the side and quickly descended the rope ladder. Jherek shifted hands with his wrapped bow and followed. He quietly made his way to one of the rowing stations and sat. No one seemed inclined to speak to him and that fact gladdened him at the same time it made him feel disappointed.
No one came to meet them when they reached the uneven shoreline, but there were plenty of eyes watching. Five ships sat at anchor inside the harbor proper. Pirates lined the railings and hung in hammocks beneath the yardarms. Others cooked fish over slow fires on the rocky beach. The beach butted up against the gray rock of the cliff face where the caves were.
They ran the longboat aground, then shipped oars. Jherek and three pirates leaped out onto the beach and grabbed the longboat's sides, pulling it easily onto the rocky sand. The wind ripped low howls from the caves as the breeze traveled across the mouths. Jherek looked up at the towering cliff face while the others stepped from the longboat. A few of the seagulls took wing curiously, swooping down within a few feet of him.
"Look at 'em," one pirate growled. "You'd think they was watchdogs close as they eyeball a body."
Azla assigned four of the ten men in the crew to guard the longboat. She took the lead with long strides, crossing the shoreline to the nearest group of men frying fish.
"I need some information," Azla told the strangers.
A hulking brute of a man standing nearby gave her an evil, gap-toothed grin. "Ain't nothing free here, wench. Mayhap you show me a little kindness-"
Before the man even knew what was going on, Azla ripped her scimitar free and touched the blade to his throat.
"How much," she asked coldly, "would you be willing to pay for your next breath?"
Color drained from the big man's features. "What was it you'd be wanting?" he asked.
Azla kept the scimitar at the big man's throat. "There's a diviner who lives here. Do you know her?"
"I know of her, Cap'n." The big man's Adam's apple slid across the blade's edge. "Name's Dehnee. She gives readings and such for them what want 'em."
"Where can I find her?"
The man pointed up the narrow ledge that wandered back and forth across the cliff face. Other branches led off to other caves, giving each a portion of privacy. The diviner's cave was halfway up and on the right.
"Take us there," Azla commanded.
"Cap'n, I'd rather not. The woman lives with a ghost."
"You'd rather not more than you'd rather try breathing through your neck?"
The man started walking, glancing in cold rebuke at his companions who sat without comment. Azla kept the scimitar's point at the back of the man's neck.
Jherek kept a ready hand on his cutlass hilt as he brought up the party's rear. They marched up the narrow, inclined path to the cave the big man indicated.
A handmade sign hung beside the cave mouth that simply proclaimed DIVINER. A thick carpet of sea lion hides stretched across the cave mouth, hung from a length of rope. The hides possessed the maned heads and forelegs of great lions, but the body and tail of a fish. The bottom of the carpet of stitched hides was rolled up and sewn around rocks that weighted it to the ground.
Azla dismissed the big man with a turn of her head. He went quickly, muttering beneath his breath.
"Dehnee," the half-elf captain called out. "I've got coin if you've a mind and skills enough to earn it."
The hides slid to the side, revealing the torchlit interior of the cave. A woman no older than her late twenties stood at the entrance. Her hair was mousy brown, long and pulled back in a ponytail. Gold eyes regarded the party and showed no fear, set deeply in a face that was chiseled and translucent as if she seldom saw the sun. She wore a gown of good material that showed age as well as care.
"I've always got a ready use for coin," she said, smiling, "but I'm not a desperate woman."
"I don't particularly care for the desperate," Azla said. "They have a tendency to tell you what you want to hear."