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I let him enjoy his little triumph. “If you say so.”

“Let’s get a drink.” Dev lifted a hatch in the prow of the ship to reveal a cramped storage space packed with small barrels. Dropping down a ladder, he lifted one up to me and we made our way to an equally confined cabin at the stern of the ship where I rolled my bag inside the hammock Dev indicated. This ship was evidently fitted out to carry the maximum amount of cargo and if I was going to help sail her, it didn’t look as if I was going to have much time to spare.

Dev dragged a stool out from beneath the folded-down table as he tapped the little cask with a practiced hand. I took the cup he offered and emptied it thirstily, choking as it proved to contain something like dark brandy rather than the feeble Aldabreshin wine I had been expecting.

“I’ll wager it’s been a good while since you had a real drink,” laughed Dev as I wiped the tears from my eyes.

“What is this stuff?” I gasped, trying not to cough and taking a more cautious sip.

“It’s made from honeycane.” Dev poured himself a second drink but I waved his hand away from my cup. There are precious few people I trust enough to get drunk with, and Dev wasn’t even close to making the bottom of the list. Still, it was undeniably pleasant to feel the bite of real liquor again.

“I thought all the Aldabreshi drank was that horse-piss they call wine.”

“There’s always a market for what’s forbidden,” chuckled Dev but I can’t say I saw the joke particularly, none too keen to find myself on a boat laden with what could only be called contraband.

“Aren’t you treading a rather fine line?” I asked.

“I watch my footing,” he replied airily.

I took another drink; I’d just have to hope he didn’t make a misstep while I was on board. If he did, well, I still had Shek Kul’s token and I’d be off this little ship at the first sign of trouble to take my chances on my own.

“Right, you can keep watch. I’m off ashore to do a little trading,” said Dev briskly.

I followed him up on deck and looked for a comfortable spot in the shelter of the mast as he hailed a ferry-boy.

“When should I expect you back?” I called as the lad worked his oar to turn his cockleshell boat around.

Dev looked at the stars beginning to shine in the darkening sky. “Midnight or thereabouts.”

I waved and settled myself on the deck. I wasn’t about to relax, but my spirits were certainly rising and not only because of the encouragement from the liquor. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I sat and watched the business of the anchorage all around me, lamps casting long yellow fingers across the dark waters, voices sounding from the various ships, in debate, dispute and as the night drew in, more frequently in song. The stars turned slowly above my head, the moons carried themselves on their stately progress, greater waxing behind lesser, which was scant days off the full. Gradually the galleys fell dark and silent, fires on the shore left to burn down to dim red embers and most of the ferrymen finally hauling their little boats up above the tide line.

I caught my breath as I heard a low noise beneath my feet. I listened and it came again, a scrape and a knock, not from the hold but from the rear cabin. On any other ship I’d have dismissed it as rats but I’d seen the extreme measures the Aldabreshi took to keep vermin from getting on to their islands and didn’t think Dev would still be trading, liquor or no liquor, if a rat showed so much as a whisker over his rails. The next sound made up my mind for me; rats may be cursed intelligent for scaly-tailed rodents but I’ll wager none have yet worked out how to open a drawer. I slipped my sandals off my feet and moved to the hatch, silent as a hunting cat. Drawing a thin Aldabreshi dagger from my belt, I gripped the rope handle of the trap door, ripping it open and dropping into the cabin in one movement.

I had been ready for grappling whoever it was in darkness but a feeble candle stub showed me a girl, all skin and bone, eyes like great dark bruises in her pale face, unwashed hair straggling over her narrow shoulders in dark rats’ tails. I gripped her by the throat all the same; the bitch had my bag open at her feet, various of my possessions strewn on the floor. I raised my dagger so she could see it and shook her hard.

“Dast seize you, what are you at?”

Her eyes focused on the bright blade with difficulty and followed it, her expression blank, slack-mouthed, the taint of thassin bitter on her breath. I frowned and waved the knife deliberately to and fro. Her muddy, bloodshot eyes rolled as she tried to keep up with the rapid movement. I let her go and wondered just what her addled mind was making of this, what phantasms her imagination was conjuring up in my place, hoping she didn’t suddenly decide I was a two-headed dog and start screaming.

“Don’t worry about Repi, she’s harmless enough. She’s looking for thassin, tahn, anything, chewing leaf if you’ve got it.” Dev’s voice startled me and I scowled up the hatch at his unconcerned face. “She hasn’t the wit to think about robbing you of anything else.”

“Curse it, Dev, you should have said something,” I protested. “I could have killed her.”

“I don’t suppose she’d have noticed for a while.” Dev slid down the ladder and snapped his fingers in front of the girl’s vacant face. “Bed,” he snapped, opening the door to the main hold, manner and tone much as I would have used to an errant hound. The girl made it through the doorway on the second attempt, clumsily rubbing her arm where she had banged it cruelly on the jamb. Dev’s expression remained contemptuous as Repi stumbled into a tangle of blankets against the far bulkhead.

“What’s she? An advertisement for your other wares?” I snapped at Dev.

“Something like that.” He pulled off his tunic and climbed deftly into his hammock, unconcerned. “She’s quite good on her back as well, as long as you give her some sapsalt to wake her up a bit. Help yourself if you like, she’ll do anything you want if she thinks there’s a trip to the shades in it for her.”

I couldn’t even begin to reply to that, so I thrust my belongings back in my bag, tying the lace at the neck in a secure knot before hanging the whole thing on the high hook of my hammock. Settling myself to sleep, I forced myself to concentrate on the fact that this unsavory vessel was still my fastest hope of leaving these pestilential islands.

We weighed anchor just after dawn and Dev steered us expertly through the crowded strait into more open waters. Whatever I might think of him, he was certainly a proficient sailor. I worked the ropes as instructed and took over what cooking there was to be done when I realized Dev’s taste for hot spices extended to even the simplest of meals and Repi was rarely in a state to be trusted near a naked flame. I rolled up my mail and stowed it at the bottom of my kit, my gems securely tied in the middle of the metal. Dressed in simple cotton, I kept my head down and concentrated on looking as unremarkable as I could, Shek Kul’s token hidden beneath my tunic, as much to ensure Dev didn’t get his hands on it too early as anything else. I didn’t figure it would take too many reminders of temptation for him to decide to slit my throat one night. As it was, I always waited for him to sleep before I did and woke myself early with the tricks of a soldier’s training.

As we worked our way up the long chain of the Archipelago, we made landfall in various anchorages, some the busy trading straits like the one where I had met Dev, others secluded coves where furtive men in shallow rowing boats drew alongside to bargain with Dev. I stayed out of it all, only going ashore to eat when necessary and on the not infrequent occasions when Dev brought one or more eager men aboard to get Repi below decks and take their pleasure with her.

All in all, I was seeing a very different picture of life in the Archipelago to the one Laio had painted for me. Well, her advice hadn’t exactly proved entirely trustworthy, had it? Every so often, I wondered how she was, her and Gar, Mahli and the baby. Having spent ten years and more in Messire’s service, I have had to get used to visiting places and making friends, only to leave them after a season or so, often never to see them again. Still, I knew I would always remember Laio with fondness, and not only for the gifts of her body and her jewelry. I wondered idly if she had any idea of the real worth of the trinkets she had bestowed on me. Different though her beliefs might be, I reckoned I’d be burning incense at a shrine to Drianon for Laio, to keep her safe through child-bed; for Grival and Sezarre too, though I couldn’t quite decide whether Trimon or Talagrin would be the most appropriate deity to watch over them.