"Perhaps there are advantages to having Qirsi aboard."
Rois grinned. "Could be." He started to walk away, then stopped and turned to look at the man again. "In th' excitement an' all, I's forgotten yer name," he said.
"Grinsa."
"And th' woman?"
"Cresenne. Our daughter is Bryntelle."
"And a beauty she is."
Grinsa smiled. "Thank you."
"Maybe th' three of ye would do me th' honor of supping with me tonight."
"Last I saw of Cresenne she was vowing never to eat again," the Qirsi said. "But I imagine that with the storm passing, she might reconsider. Thank you, Captain. It's a kind invitation, and I accept on their behalf."
"Good. At eight bells then."
"Eight bells." The man climbed to his feet and made his way below, moving stiffly, as if he had just come through a great battle.
Rois watched him go before turning his attention back to his ship. She had come through the storm with relatively little damage, but she looked a mess and he set the crew to cleaning her up.
By eight bells, the skies had cleared and the sun shone from just above the mountains, bathing the sea and ship in hues of gold. The winds had died down as well, and the water's surface reflected the few soft clouds that glided overhead as if it were a looking glass. Looking west, a man might never guess that the Sea of Stars had been roiled by a storm only a few hours before. The sky to the east remained dark, however, and occasionally it flickered with the glow of distant lightning.
The white-hairs arrived for supper just as the peal of the bells faded away. The man looked rested and none the worse for his struggle with the storm. The woman, on the other hand, seemed pale, leading the captain to wonder if she still felt sickened by the motion of the boat.
She smiled, though, as Rois extended a hand to her.
"Thank you for inviting us, Captain," she said. "It's very generous of you."
"It's th' least I can do, ma'am. What with this kind gentleman saving my ship and all."
She smiled, glancing briefly at Grinsa.
"Sit, please," the captain said, stepping back out of the doorway and waving them into the cabin. "There's not a lot o' room, but I daresay it'll do.,,
They took seats at the table on either side of Rois's chair. She held the babe, who was looking about with wide eyes, her gaze finally coming to rest on the oil lamp burning brightly above the table.
"Cook will be in with th' meal soon enough. I hope bluefish is all right."
"Yes, of course," Grinsa said.
Cresenne smiled, but the captain could see that it was forced. He didn't expect that she'd eat much.
"In th' meantime," he said, "how's about a bit o' wine?"
As Rois filled three glasses with some of the pale golden wine he had traded for during his last visit to Qosantia, his first mate, Pelton Fent, arrived, taking the fourth seat at the table. Usually Pelton ate with the crew, but the captain had asked him to join them. True, Grinsa had saved the ship, but still Rois didn't relish the notion of passing the evening alone with a family of Qirsi.
He introduced Pelton to the white-hairs and poured the man some wine. Then he raised his own glass, and with a glance at Cresenne, offered a toast. "To smooth waters th' rest o' th' way."
The woman smiled. She really was a beauty. "To smooth waters," she repeated.
They all sipped their wine.
"That's very good, Captain," Grinsa said. "Can I ask where it's from?"
"Th' lowlands," Rois said. Seeing the puzzled look on the Qirsi's face, he added, "Qosantia. One o' th' Eandi sovereignties of th' eastern Southlands."
The man and woman exchanged a look before Grinsa faced the captain again.
"Am I to understand, then, that there are separate Qirsi and Eandi sovereignties in the Southlands?"
"Ya didn't know?" Pelton asked in his heavy lowlands accent, eyeing the man.
Grinsa glanced at Cresenne again and shook his head. "No. We were… eager to leave the Forelands, and in our haste I'm afraid we didn't learn as much about our new home as we might have otherwise."
"More's a pity," the first mate said. "Ya woulda been better off taking th' otha route down."
The white-hair frowned and looked at Rois.
"What he means is the Qirsi clans hold th' west, th' Eandi th' east. Ye'll have little choice now but t' cross through th' Eandi sovereignties if ye're t' reach Qirsi lands."
"Do no Qirsi live among the Eandi?" the woman asked, her brow creased.
Whatever his feelings about Qirsi, Rois would have liked to find some way to smooth that pale forehead once more. But he wasn't going to lie to them.
"Very few, ma'am. And them that does have a hard time of it, if ye follow me."
"If you knew this when we first-"
The man laid a hand on her arm, silencing her. She continued to glare at Rois for another moment, though, before finally looking away and raking a hand through her long hair. The baby let out a small squeal, but no one else made a sound.
After some time, there was a knock at the door and Cook and his assistant came in bearing the fish and two loaves of bread. The old man had a smile on his face when he opened the door, but seeing the captain's expression and the frowns of his guests, Cook's face fell. He and the boy served everyone quickly and without a word, before fleeing the cabin.
"I swear t' ye, ma'am," Rois said when they were gone, "we thought ye knew."
She stared at her wine, her lips pressed thin, but after a moment she nodded.
"Ye've paid t' go as far as Yorl, in Aelea-"
"And how much farther is that?" Grinsa asked.
"We're about to Redcliff now," Rois said. "With a bit o' luck and a bit o' wind, we'll reach Yorl in the morning. But what I was going t' say is this. Ye having saved my ship and all, and me taking a shine to th' baby there-Bryntelle, isn't it?"
The man smiled. "Yes. Bryntelle."
"With all o' that, I could see clear to take ye south to Shevden, in Tordjanne. Or better still, Ferenham. That's in Qosantia. No charge, o' course."
Grinsa glanced at the woman, who gave a quick shake of her head. He held her gaze, though, and after a moment she shrugged, looking unhappy. "That's a generous offer, Captain," the man went on, facing Rois again. "What would we gain by going farther?"
"Well, some o' th' sovereignties are better fer yer kind than others. Stopping in Aelea, ye'll have t' go through that one and Stelpana before ye reach Qirsi land. Them's two o' th' worst."
"Why are they so bad?" Cresenne asked.
The captain shrugged. "They bore th' brunt o' th' Blood Wars when they was fought. Folks don't forget, even after more than a century." He wasn't sure that either of them knew anything about the Blood Wars, but they didn't ask, and he didn't see any reason to go into it lest it lead to more ugliness. "In any case," he said instead, "once ye're in Qosantia, ye can cross t' th' Ofirean Sea and get passage across t' whichever o' th' clan lands ye want."
Again Grinsa and the woman shared a look. After a few moments, Grinsa actually smiled and reached to take Cresenne's hand.
"Actually," he said, "I'm not certain that we want to spend that much more time aboard any ship, even one as fine as yours, Captain."
Rois nodded. "I think I understand. In that case, let me offer ye this. I know a farrier in Yorl who's always got a few beasts he's tryin' t' sell. I expect I can get ye a pair o' horses at a fair price. Yorl's the farthest point inland on th' Aelean shore. Ye can make for Eagle's Pass and head due west across th' center o' Stelpana. They're no kinder t' Qirsi there, but there's fewer o' them. There's more people in th' north, near the Companion Lakes, and in th' south near th' seacoast. Steer clear o' those areas."
"All right, we will. Thank you."
"How well do ye know th' lay o' th' land?" Rois asked.
The white-hair shook his head. "I'm afraid we don't know it at all. If you have a map we can look at, I'd be most grateful."
"I don't," the captain said. "But I can describe it for ye some." He looked at Cresenne. "Go ahead and eat a bit, ma'am. It'll do ye good t' have a bit in ye."