He yawned again as he stepped through the hatchway. He was tired.
LXXVIII
Fourday had come, and gone, as had most of fiveday, and still the Seastag remained tied at the Lord’s Pier. Kharl and Tarkyn had spent the majority of fiveday cleaning out and reorganizing the carpenter’s shop, in an effort to undo the effects of the thrown-together stacks and lengths of wood and the hurriedly stowed tools required by the hasty reloading that had accompanied the rush of leaving the dry dock.
Kharl slipped the black staff into the longer overhead bin, still thinking about the passage in The Basis of Order. Why was it important to cast aside such a useful tool as the staff? He did not doubt the book, but he did question his own understanding of the words. “That should do it.”
“Leastwise, gave us time to do it right ’fore we set to sea,” grumbled Tarkyn. “When we set to sea. If we set to sea.”
“You think we’re waiting for cargo?”
“At the Lord’s Pier? More likely waiting for…” Tarkyn broke off and turned in the stool.
Kawelt stood in the hatchway of the carpenter shop. “Kharl…got a visitor here.”
“Visitor?” Kharl couldn’t honestly think of anyone. Arthal? But his son wouldn’t have even known that his father served on a ship, let alone which one, and Kharl doubted that Arthal would have cared, not given the way he’d left the cooperage.
“Second from the Southshield…”
Herana?
“You’re not thinking of changing ships?” asked Tarkyn.
“No. I don’t know why she’d…”
At the word “she” Tarkyn laughed. Even Kawelt looked amused.
“Go on…We’re done for the day.”
Kharl slipped on his winter jacket and gloves and headed topside, where he made his way to the quarterdeck. Herana and Ghart stood by the railing, talking.
“…good man…carpenter and a fighter…a deck-stander…guess that’s all right…”
“…doesn’t talk much about himself…”
Both turned as Kharl neared.
“Carpenter,” said Herana, “we’re in port till tomorrow. Thought you might like to join me for an ale. Ghart says you’re not on the watch schedule until tomorrow morning.”
Kharl looked to Ghart.
“Still don’t have that cargo,” Ghart said. “Go have an ale. Just take a look at the pier now and then.”
“Yes, ser.” Kharl nodded.
“See you later, Ghart,” Herana said to the Seastag’s second mate.
Kharl followed Herana down the gangway, then drew abreast of her on the pier. He inclined his head to her. He wasn’t quite sure what to call her, since he was neither passenger nor a crewman under her.
“I was glad to see you came back,” she said. “Somehow, I didn’t see you as the type that would have liked Vizyn.”
“You were right, but I had to see.”
“You don’t like being a ship’s carpenter?”
“I like it. I’m not certain it’s what I should be doing.”
“If you like it, and you’re good…?”
Kharl laughed. “Once I was a cooper, and I was good at it, and I liked it. But, for all that, things didn’t turn out so well.”
Herana turned toward the open doors of the Crimson Pitcher. Kharl followed her inside. The tavern was half-empty, and they found a table in the far corner of the main public room. As Kharl seated himself across from her, he couldn’t help but overhear words from a table nearby.
“…said the regulars being marched south…going to let Ilteron have Valmurl…”
“…Lord Ghrant never was a fighter…”
A server appeared.
“Dark ale,” Herana said.
“Lager. Pale ale if you don’t have it,” Kharl added.
“Three for each.”
Kharl showed his coins, as did Herana.
“Be back in a moment.”
“Ghart said you’d had to leave Brysta. Was that what you meant by things not turning out?” Herana’s voice showed interest, but was not insistent as she looked at Kharl.
“Something like that.” Kharl paused, then waited as the server set down two mugs before handing over his coins. Once the woman left, he said, “Board outside said two.”
“Everything’s getting dearer. All the taverns are asking more.”
“Because of the fighting between Ghrant and Ilteron? What’s Captain Harluk going to do with the Southshield…if Ghrant and Ilteron start a battle here in Valmurl?”
“Steam off to where they’re not fighting,” suggested Herana. “Wait until everything clears, then go back to carrying people and cargo where they want to go. What else can he do?”
“Not much,” Kharl replied. He took a swallow of the pale ale. He would have preferred lager, but he wasn’t about to complain about what he couldn’t get.
After another silence, Herana asked, “You think things will work out better for you here?”
“I don’t know. Once I thought that anywhere would be better. Now…seems like people are mostly the same everywhere. There’s always someone…” Kharl shrugged and shook his head.
“You see that on ships, too. Thought I’d get away from that by going to sea,” she said. “Don’t have as many folk, but they’re the same.”
“Why did you go to sea?” Kharl asked. “Not that many women do.”
“What was I going to do? Can’t have children-consort near-on killed me when he found out.”
Kharl winced. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Was a long time ago. Made it easier. My brother knew Harluk. He carries a lot of passengers, especially in the summer. Helps to have some women in the crew. Turned out I was good at it.” She looked at Kharl. “You have a consort?”
“Not now. She was hung by Lord West for murder. She didn’t do it…” Kharl gave as brief a description as he could of what had happened. “…and that was how I got to be a carpenter on the Seastag.”
“Daresay you left out a lot.”
Kharl nodded.
“Your sons…not real grateful, were they?”
“Don’t think young people ever are. They know better. I did, too, back when I was their age.”
“Is that what happened with your consort?”
Kharl didn’t understand the question.
Herana laughed…softly. “My problem. Everyone got consorted. So did I. Then I discovered he didn’t love me, just wanted children…sons.”
“You couldn’t have any.” Kharl shook his head. “No…maybe I didn’t want the children enough. Was always trying to do more, bring in more coins, so that we’d have enough…”
“Were you in love with her?” asked Herana. “Your consort?”
The question was a shock. Kharl bit off a retort. Why was she asking? He looked at her, but he didn’t sense anything from Herana except concern, and certainly there was no trace of chaos around her. Finally, he said, “At times…I still miss her…”
“That’s not the same.”
It wasn’t. Kharl knew that. He also wondered if that was why he tried not to think about Charee much. “When we were younger…she was good-looking, not quite a beauty, but she turned heads. I thought I was in love…”
“Now you aren’t sure?”
“There’s more than a few things I’m not sure about these days,” Kharl admitted. He forced a grin. “Like why you’re so interested in a carpenter second.”
“Because you’re honest, and when you’re not, you’re trying to be…Not that many men who are. Because I’m either the one giving orders or taking them. Because it’s good to talk with someone not on the Southshield. Because…whatever happens…you’re not the kind to be nasty…” She looked directly at him. “Enough said?”
Kharl couldn’t help but smile. “Enough said.” He doubted that Herana would ever be more than a friend, but he had none, and certainly none who had sought him out.
“Ghart says you’re more than a carpenter…”
“Not yet. I’m not as good a ship’s carpenter as I should be.”
A roll of laughter from two tables away was so loud that neither could speak for a moment.