I turned my thoughts to such considerations whenever life on the little ship threatened to be too distasteful, slamming a firm door on any impulse to try and shelter Repi from Dev’s abuses. Some days this was harder than others, especially when some islander who’d paid for a turn with her had shown a taste for violence.
“Why don’t you give the poor bitch a chance to recover?” I snapped one day as Dev knelt beside her, lifting her unresponsive head to blow some smoke into her nostrils, a great bruise purpling one side of her face. The smell of the smoldering leaves was making me edgy as well; I was more than a little concerned that catching too much of it might let those voices loose inside my head again. I was finding I was having enough trouble with the increasingly vivid and powerful dreams I was having about young D’Alsennin. I’d be cursed if I’d unleash him into my waking mind again, having finally recognized his as the voice I had heard when fighting the Ice Islander priest. If I’d thought I had any chance of picking up another decent blade, I’d have been sorely tempted to drop D’Alsennin’s sword into the sea some night and face answering to the Sieur for so dishonoring his gift. Unfortunately, common sense reminded me that the Archipelago was no place to be traveling without a weapon.
Dev scowled and dropped Repi’s head to the deck with a sickening thud. “Silly poult, she’s been mixing tahn and liquor again. No wonder Ful lost his temper with her; it must have been like ramming a rag doll.”
I bit down hard on the words that were hammering at the inside of my teeth and stared over the rail at the shoreline. We were anchored in a secure cove with no other ships and I noticed the trees were sparser here, more akin to the ones you’d see in southern Caladhria. With any luck I’d be off this ship in a few days if my rough calculations as to our course were anything like correct.
“Smoke? I can’t rouse Repi and I don’t fancy spitting dead meat, so we might as well get glazed.” Dev blew on the embers of his censer and added a few more leaves, taking a deep breath before offering me the little metal bowl in its horn holder.
I shook my head abruptly, moving out of the way of the drifting scent.
“You want it, though, don’t you?” Dev laughed, his own eyes growing wide and dark as the intoxication spread through him.
I didn’t bother replying. In any case it was true. Catching the scent so often lately had reawakened all the cravings that I thought I’d left so far behind me. I kept catching myself finding justifications for just a little smoke, taking a little thassin to chew or some leaf, there was plenty on offer after all. The notion of losing myself just for a little while was just so tempting, stealing an evening free of the memories of Kaeska’s appalling death, my apprehension over how Messire was going to judge my recent experiences, my struggle to decide whether I would admit to these dreams of D’Alsennin and his lost colony and sink myself deeper into some wizards’ plotting or lie through my teeth and deny it all, forfeiting my oath though none but me would know it. Some nights just about the only thing holding me back was the fear that relinquishing control like that would let loose whatever shade of D’Alsennin remained tied to his sword and was currently locked firmly away in the back of my mind, for the moment at least.
Dev showed no after effects of the smoke the following day and got us moving in a high good humor. “We’re heading out away into open waters today,” he announced over breakfast. “It’ll be rougher and we’ll need to watch the winds.”
“Keep Repi below decks then,” I said shortly, “or tie a line to her.”
Dev laughed as if I had just made an excellent jest, so I turned my back on him and addressed myself to the business of sailing the little ship, which was not really built for the seas we faced as we left the shelter of the Archipelago, alone on the empty expanse of the water.
“Take the tiller and turn her into the wind!” Dev shouted to me. I hurried to comply as he left the stern and the ship rocked alarmingly. I grabbed for the arm of the rudder but missed as I saw a complex tangle of red light swirl around his fingers, the ruby glow sparking arcane reflections in his dark eyes.
“You’re a pissing wizard!” I gasped, reaching for the tiller and just managing to grab it this time to steady the ship.
“Reporting to the Archmage and a seat on the Council any time I want it,” Dev confirmed as he spread his hands and sent a column of fire high into the sky above our heads. “Not that I do want it, not just yet. Sailing the islands like this, in my line of trade, it’s a fine life. If I can earn some credit in Hadrumal with what I discover, so much the better. I’ll be wintering there this year, though. You’re a fine prize for me to bring in.” He laughed at my shocked expression. “I’ve been hunting for you ever since Shek Kul set sail from Relshaz. What did you think? The Archmage was going to let you loose in the Archipelago and forget about you? Not with what I think you’ve got in your head, not when those Elietimm are spending so much time and trouble to get their hands on you and that sword.”
He was openly gloating now. If we’d been within sight of land, I’d have been over the rail and swimming for shore to take my chances with whatever lurked beneath the waters. As it was I took a step toward the smirking man before the lurch of the ship brought me to my senses.
“I’m a Tormalin sworn man, I answer to my patron and no one else, you bastard,” I told Dev in no uncertain terms. “If Planir wants me, he’ll answer to Messire D’Olbriot first!”
“Already signed and sealed,” Dev laughed. “You’ve been handed over as surely as when you were sold in Relshaz!”
I might really have hit him then had a sail not appeared on the horizon. Square-rigged and three-masted, it was a Tormalin ship, the type I had seen all my life in the oceanside harbor at Zyoutessela. Squinting into the sun, I struggled to identify the flag at the masthead, desperately hoping to see the D’Olbriot insignia. Let the mages try and get me off one of Messire’s ships against my will; I couldn’t believe Dev’s tale, that the patron would transfer me to another’s orders without my consent, especially not to the Archmage.
The three-master closed with us rapidly with the winds at her stern. I ignored Dev’s protests as I abandoned the rudder to him and collected my gear. I was ready to catch a line thrown from the taller ship as soon as she drew alongside and tied my kit-bag securely to it, waving a hand to the sailor who hauled it aboard for me. A rope ladder snaked down to me and I looked for the right moment to catch it.
“Don’t you owe me for your passage?” Dev shouted, half angry, half taunting. I looped my arm through the ladder and got my feet on to it before turning to glare at him.
“You really think so?”
“I can do a lot for the Archmage with a token like that,” he insisted, face serious for once. “Besides, you swore it to me.”
And I wasn’t about to forswear myself, just for the sake of poking this little filth in the eye. I spat on to his deck before ripping the medallion from my neck and tossing it over, watching with contempt as Dev scrambled for the shining disc. Fury goading me to unexpected violence, I decided it would be best to leave before I killed him and climbed rapidly aboard the three-master. A genial mariner helped me over the rail, the master of the ship by his dress and manner.