said, “I’d rather be where they know how to deal with ghosts,” and
spat over the side of the dock to mark his words.
“Fair enough,” the shipmaster said, and threw him a rope to climb up. “We might need an extra steersman,” she added to Arvid.
“The waters around Turvite are liable to be rough, this time of year, when the current changes.”
The harbour master emerged from his house and organised the unloading of the cargo and the restocking of the boat’s larders
and water barrels.
Safred was first off the gangplank, sitting down thankfully on a crate. “When my stomach settles down, I might even be able
to eat something,” she said, half-laughing.
Apple and the other two merchants started heading for town. “Don’t know what kind of bargain we’re going to make,” she called
back to Arvid from the deck. “Frightened people hold on hard to their purses.”
But she seemed cheerful enough, her blond hair swinging in its single long plait. She looked younger than she had at the Plantation,
Martine thought. Probably comes of not having to look after anyone, or cook any meals. Or wear the big, heavy jackets you
needed in the Last Domain. Martine herself felt much freer now they were far enough south that she could pack away her felt
coat.
Arvid came up behind Martine and put his hands on her waist. A squirm of pleasure went right through her. She bit back a smile.
“Not going into town?” he asked.
“I’m thinking about it,” she replied. “Times of trouble, a stonecaster can make good money. But by the same stone, a stonecaster
can get into a lot of trouble if the answers aren’t to everyone’s liking.”
“So stay with me,” he breathed. “I have no duties here at all. It’s Apple and her friends who do the bargaining. I just turn
up for the celebration meal afterwards, so our customers can brag about having dinner with the warlord.”
Martine sniffed. “Not much to brag about.”
“Not from where I sit,” he agreed, nuzzling her ear. The hot breath melted her.
“Oh, all right,” she said, feigning reluctance. “I suppose I don’t have anything else to do right now.”
Laughing, he pulled her by the hand down the companionway and into his cabin. As they tumbled onto the bunk, she could hear
Trine’s hooves clunking down the gangplank, with Zel’s footfalls in between. So they were all right, and she could concentrate
on Arvid.
They didn’t come out until it was night.
On deck, Safred and Cael were having a late supper: “Just something light,” Safred said. “My stomach isn’t quite settled yet.”
There were more sailors on board than she had expected — didn’t sailors just disappear off to the inns and brothels when a
ship was in port?
Rumer and Rawnie were having a cha with Zel in Trine’s hold while she curried the mare down. Martine asked them.
“Everything’s locked up,” they said. “Brothel’s open, but the inn’s not letting strangers drink. Only place we could get an
ale was a Traveller’s hut, out on the edges, and that wasn’t the best place to drink for two women. Lot of young’uns, full
of beer and piss and thinking they’re cock of the dunghill. And
they
wouldn’t serve blondies, so most of the crew can’t get a drink anywhere. Might as well be here.”
Martine and Arvid moved to the side and looked at the town. Shuttered up tight; no one on the streets. Martine had been to
Mitchen many times before, and it was a town, like Turvite, that enjoyed its summer nights. This quiet readiness disturbed
her greatly.
“Have we heard from Apple and the others?” she asked the shipmaster.
“No, but I wouldn’t worry. We’ve made this trip a dozen times before. The merchants always stay late.”
“But they usually call for me to come to the dinner,” Arvid said, looking worried. “Holly, Beetle, on duty, now!”
His guards had been playing dice aft. They threw down the cup and sprang up, running to
spat over the side of the dock to mark his words.
“Fair enough,” the shipmaster said, and threw him a rope to climb up. “We might need an extra steersman,” she added to Arvid.
“The waters around Turvite are liable to be rough, this time of year, when the current changes.”
The harbour master emerged from his house and organised the unloading of the cargo and the restocking of the boat’s larders
and water barrels.
Safred was first off the gangplank, sitting down thankfully on a crate. “When my stomach settles down, I might even be able
to eat something,” she said, half-laughing.
Apple and the other two merchants started heading for town. “Don’t know what kind of bargain we’re going to make,” she called
back to Arvid from the deck. “Frightened people hold on hard to their purses.”
But she seemed cheerful enough, her blond hair swinging in its single long plait. She looked younger than she had at the Plantation,
Martine thought. Probably comes of not having to look after anyone, or cook any meals. Or wear the big, heavy jackets you
needed in the Last Domain. Martine herself felt much freer now they were far enough south that she could pack away her felt
coat.
Arvid came up behind Martine and put his hands on her waist. A squirm of pleasure went right through her. She bit back a smile.
“Not going into town?” he asked.
“I’m thinking about it,” she replied. “Times of trouble, a stonecaster can make good money. But by the same stone, a stonecaster
can get into a lot of trouble if the answers aren’t to everyone’s liking.”
“So stay with me,” he breathed. “I have no duties here at all. It’s Apple and her friends who do the bargaining. I just turn
up for the celebration meal afterwards, so our customers can brag about having dinner with the warlord.”
Martine sniffed. “Not much to brag about.”
“Not from where I sit,” he agreed, nuzzling her ear. The hot breath melted her.
“Oh, all right,” she said, feigning reluctance. “I suppose I don’t have anything else to do right now.”
Laughing, he pulled her by the hand down the companionway and into his cabin. As they tumbled onto the bunk, she could hear
Trine’s hooves clunking down the gangplank, with Zel’s footfalls in between. So they were all right, and she could concentrate
on Arvid.
They didn’t come out until it was night.
On deck, Safred and Cael were having a late supper: “Just something light,” Safred said. “My stomach isn’t quite settled yet.”
There were more sailors on board than she had expected — didn’t sailors just disappear off to the inns and brothels when a
ship was in port?
Rumer and Rawnie were having a cha with Zel in Trine’s hold while she curried the mare down. Martine asked them.
“Everything’s locked up,” they said. “Brothel’s open, but the inn’s not letting strangers drink. Only place we could get an
ale was a Traveller’s hut, out on the edges, and that wasn’t the best place to drink for two women. Lot of young’uns, full
of beer and piss and thinking they’re cock of the dunghill. And
they
wouldn’t serve blondies, so most of the crew can’t get a drink anywhere. Might as well be here.”
Martine and Arvid moved to the side and looked at the town. Shuttered up tight; no one on the streets. Martine had been to
Mitchen many times before, and it was a town, like Turvite, that enjoyed its summer nights. This quiet readiness disturbed
her greatly.
“Have we heard from Apple and the others?” she asked the shipmaster.
“No, but I wouldn’t worry. We’ve made this trip a dozen times before. The merchants always stay late.”
“But they usually call for me to come to the dinner,” Arvid said, looking worried. “Holly, Beetle, on duty, now!”
His guards had been playing dice aft. They threw down the cup and sprang up, running to
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