Oathen by Jasmine Giacomo

at the Aldib seacliff, during sunset’s high
tide.
    A shadow’s cooling touch reached her at the
back end of the trailing kelp mat—the seacliff was finally between
her and the sun. Clutching a thin bamboo support in either hand,
she let her neck rest back on another slender pole and looked up
through the rubbery kelp leaves. The island loomed
ahead.
    Minutes later, she could make out the
crescent-shaped beach that footed the Aldib seacliff. Coral reefs
began to drag at her thin leather shoes, and she lifted her feet,
bracing for the impact with the sand.
    The ocean teased the enormous kelp mat for
nearly half an hour before the receding tide deposited its last
tangles on the wet sand. Sanych was dragged to and fro, sloshing
longer than anyone else, before she jammed her feet in the sand and
just hunkered there, spitting out water after each wave overwhelmed
her. I’d rather drown than be seasick for another minute ,
she thought, swallowing back her bile. When the waves only came up
to her knees, she dropped from her low crouch into an exhausted
lump under the green kelp.
    Why did I think this was a good idea
again? she asked herself, willing reason to return. Oh yes.
Something about needing to record the quest…importance of
accuracy…I didn’t take into account the dozens of ways to die
during this mission. If I survive, I’ll definitely add those into
my calculations.
    The sky dimmed. The only sounds she heard were
the incessant waves, now lapping at her feet through the kelp, and
dozens of seagulls. The two hundred pirates within a stone’s throw
of her were perfectly silent. The air smelled terrible, though. Not
only were there the usual smells of rotting fish and other oceanic
discards, but the Aldib dump must have been nearby. Rotten food and
slaughter offal invaded her nostrils, along with even fouler
scents. She gritted her teeth and swallowed, plucking a kelp leaf
and placing it right over her nose.
    For the love of Wisdom, I hope they
hurry !
    ~~~
    A lone ship bearing the name Lenila and
the banner of Kauna’kana requested permission to tie up at the home
dock of House Nabal just before the sun began to set. After
receiving permission, it gently kissed the dock, and an armed dock
escort waited while the ship lowered its gangplank.
    The sturdy captain, with his gaudy
purple-brimmed hat atilt, swaggered down first, followed by four of
his own guards. After them came three men, shackled together. None
looked pleased about it, but the one in the middle was exuding
waves of terror, while the other two merely glared in
annoyance.
    The Nabalan lieutenant stepped forward to
greet the ship’s captain.
    “Fair skies and welcome,” he said in Jualan,
bowing just enough to be considered polite. “What may the humble
House of Nabal do for you this evening?”
    The captain replied in Hyndi. “I do not speak
your tongue. Much forgiveness. You may converse in this language,
please?”
    “Of course,” the lieutenant said, switching
tongues.
    “Much excellence. We are finding this man
here.” He turned and pointed to the terrified prisoner. “We wish to
return him to you, and beg for reward.”
    The lieutenant frowned and squinted at the
prisoner. “I do not know this man. What has he done, that I should
reward you for bringing him to me?”
    The captain leaned in, and his stormy blue
eyes gleamed. “He runs away from his wedding,” he
confided.
    “Do not listen to him!” the prisoner shouted
in courtly Jualan, jerking at his chains. The other two men
restrained him and ordered him to be quiet. “No, it’s not true! The
pirates attacked my voth-nai; I was taken prisoner! I was on my way
to the wedd—”
    One of his guards punched him in the face, and
the prisoner staggered, clapping a hand to his mouth and bringing
it away bloody.
    The lieutenant’s eyes widened. “Kemsil
Urondarei! Of Jath!”
    “None other,” the man said, standing tall in
his ragged clothing. “I beg you, sir, set me free and let