Death's Mistress

CHAPTER 7

Nicci reached the docks in Grafan Harbor after making her way from the darkly cluttered buildings to a more spacious district of merchants’ warehouses and administrative offices. The harbormaster’s hall was a busy place, with the windows and doors thrown wide open to let in the breezes. Clerks in high-collared jackets bustled along the docks with their papers and quills, interviewing ships’ quartermasters to inventory and tax the exotic and ordinary cargo.

Dockside inns and taverns were adorned with garish signs and unappealing names. The Snout and Maggot was unusually busy, filled with people who conversed in shouts instead of normal voices. In front of the tavern, a pudgy boy offered burned meat pies to sailors who lounged on the steps or leaned against the outside wall.

Servicing the steady flow of lonely men in port, rickety-looking brothels were crowded so closely against one another that the patrons of one establishment could hear the lusty activities in the adjoining brothel. Wildly imaginative murals painted on their exterior walls advertised improbable images of the services their women or boys performed. As Nicci considered the murals, she doubted many sailors could manage the intricate, overly flexible positions. She bit her lower lip, where once a golden ring had marked her as Jagang’s property. From her unwelcome experience in the soldiers’ tents, she knew that while most men believed they had great prowess as lovers, they were usually just brutes who finished quickly and without finesse.

She walked past moneylender stalls, extravagant ones that financed whole sailing expeditions, or smaller and more usurious moneylenders who preyed upon desperate sailors. A forlorn-looking man was locked in a pillory in front of one moneylender’s shack. Slumped and scowling in the restraints, he had been pelted with rotted fruit, and he sneered back as passersby jeered at him.

Nicci knew how Tanimura worked. Some supposedly compassionate captain would pay the man’s obligation and take him aboard a ship as part of the indentured crew, but such “rescued” men were bound to such impossibly high interest rates that they were practically slaves. Although Nicci despised slavery, she also had little sympathy for any fool who would create such a situation for himself.

Walking along the waterfront, she assessed the ships tied up at the docks, keeping her eyes open for one named Wavewalker, which Bannon Farmer had suggested. Those vessels with large cargo holds were clearly trading ships, while narrower-beamed hulls and streamlined construction signified fast patrol ships or warships.

Groups of hairy, muscular men offered their services as porters like human oxen hauling cargo to where shouting merchants held auctions. Laborers pulled thick hemp ropes through squeaking pulleys to raise crates and pallets off the decks.

At one smoke- and grease-stained cargo vessel, the sailors struggled with a block and tackle to lift the severed tentacle of a huge sea creature. The leathery gray skin was covered with slime and adorned with suckers. The heaving workers swung the flopping appendage over the side, and it landed with a thud and a splat onto the dock. Butchers swept in, using saws and cleavers to chop the tentacle meat into smaller steaks, while young apprentices ran up and down the docks calling out, “Fresh kraken meat! Fresh kraken meat for sale!” The smell was so foul and fishy, Nicci couldn’t imagine anyone willingly eating the stuff.

She was startled to hear Nathan’s voice call to her. “There you are, Sorceress. I am ready to help you find us a ship to carry us on our grand expedition to the Old World.”

When Nicci turned to look at the wizard, she nearly laughed at his appearance. Upon leaving the People’s Palace, Nathan had worn fine traveling clothes, but during their journey through the Dark Lands and then down to Tanimura, his garments had grown bedraggled, the fabric faded, the cloth frayed around the cuffs, the hem of his cape tattered. Now he sported new brown leather trousers and a white linen shirt with fresh starched ruffles down the front, voluminous sleeves, and wide folded cuffs, each fastened with a golden link. He wore an open embroidered vest, a fine forest-green cape. He also carried a bound satchel, which no doubt held other shirts—probably another few impractical white ones that would become stained and dingy in no time at all—as well as vests, trousers, maybe even a second cape, as if he needed one.

Nathan seemed to interpret her expression as admiration. “Hmm, I may have to reassess my opinion of Tanimura. It is a marvelous city after all, despite my past unpleasantness here. An entire district devoted to nothing but tailors! Shirt makers, jacket makers, trouser makers, cloak makers. The selection is extraordinary!” He lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “Would you believe I found two alleys devoted to highly creative smallclothes for women?” He cocked an eyebrow, and Nicci knew he did it just to annoy her. “I could take you there, Sorceress.”

“I think not,” she said. “My black dress and my other travel garments are quite adequate, and I am traveling in service of Richard.” She had no interest in obtaining lacy smallclothes to entice some unknown man. Nicci had never needed lace, if that was what she’d been after.

Nathan continued with his unflappable exuberance. “And cobblers specializing in all types of boots.” He tapped the toe of his new black boot on the dock boards, adjusting the fit. “Belt makers, button carvers, bucklesmiths—did you know that was a profession? Bucklesmiths!”

Nicci could imagine him walking among the shops, fascinated by so many choices, like a child overwhelmed by a sweet shop. “I am surprised you made up your mind so quickly.”

“Indeed! After I first escaped from the Palace of the Prophets, Clarissa and I went to a tailor outside of Tanimura, and he took some time to complete the job to my satisfaction. Very meticulous.” A wistful flicker of memory crossed his face. “But here in the city, with such extraordinary selection, I merely needed to name the clothes I wanted, and some tailor would find the items, exactly in my size.” He made a quick, satisfied sound in his throat, hefting his packs. “I bought several outfits.”

He looked along the docks, scanned the numerous ships tied up in the harbor. “So, I am ready to depart. Have you found us passage?”

Nicci thought of the young man in the alley. “I’m looking for a ship called the Wavewalker, a three-masted carrack due to depart tonight, sailing south. It may be what we need.”

“Follow me,” Nathan said. “The Wavewalker is this way.”

She didn’t ask how the wizard could know such a thing or how long he had been exploring the harbor without her. Together, they walked along the pier and found the Wavewalker tied up to the third dock from the end. The ship’s figurehead showed the face of a beautiful woman with curly tresses that flowed back, transforming into ocean waves—the Sea Mother, a superstition from the southern coastal towns of the Old World.

The last carts and barrels of supplies were being loaded on board the Wavewalker for departure with the outgoing tide that night. Sailors carried cages of chickens onto the deck, and the potbellied ship’s cook led a forlorn-looking milk cow by a rope up the boarding ramp.

Sailors gathered at the rails, watching the activity on the docks, many of them looking miserable from hangovers or bruised from brawls. No doubt they had spent or lost all their money and had returned early to the ship, having no place else to go.

Nicci and Nathan walked up the ramp, carrying their packs. The wizard waved at an older man in a gray captain’s jacket, who rose from a wooden stool on the deck. The captain looked perfectly comfortable on board, liking his own ship better than the amenities in Tanimura. From the corner of his mouth, he removed a long-stemmed pipe from which wafted a curl of greenish-blue smoke, pungent with the smell of dream weed.

“Are you Captain Eli?” Nicci asked.

The man raised his bushy eyebrows and bowed, meeting them as they came aboard. “Eli Corwin, ma’am. How is it that you’re familiar with who I am?”

“One of your sailors recommended that we speak to you about booking passage south to the Old World. We wish to depart soon.”

Captain Eli removed his flat, gray cap. He had thick, wiry black hair shot through with silver strands. A dark boundary of beard outlined his jaw, but the rest of his face was clean shaven. “If departing tonight is soon enough, then this is your ship. The Wavewalker is a cargo vessel, but we have room for a few passengers, provided the fee is adequate.”

“We have more than a fee.” When Nathan puffed his chest with pride, his fancy new shirt swelled, as if the ruffles were flowers blooming. From the leather bag at his side, he removed a document and extended it to the captain. “This is a writ from Lord Rahl, master of D’Hara, appointing me his roving ambassador. The protection and status also covers my traveling companion.”

Captain Eli skimmed the writ so quickly that Nicci knew he wasn’t actually reading the words. He did not seem impressed. “This writ and the price of a passage will be enough to pay for your passage.”

Nicci felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Lord Rahl’s writ should guarantee us free passage.”

“Maybe it should.” The captain put the cap back on his head and inserted the pipe between his lips. He inhaled a long slow breath, then exhaled. “But such documents could be forged. There are many tricksters out to cheat an honest captain.” He sucked again on his pipe. “Surely a powerful man like Lord Rahl, master of D’Hara, has a treasury large enough not to begrudge me the price of your passage.”

He gestured toward the adjacent ship, where men in exotic silk pantaloons unloaded crates of spiny fruit. “For most of the captains here, a letter from a ruler they’ve never heard of will gain you nothing. For me, I’ll try to be fair.”

The cow let out a low moan as the cook tried to wrestle it down a ramp to a lower deck.

“Informing the world about Lord Rahl’s rule is part of our mission,” Nicci said. She still placed little credence in the other quest that the witch woman claimed was so important.

Captain Eli returned to his seat on the stool. “And you are welcome to tell every member of my crew about your Lord Rahl’s wonderful new empire—so long as you pay for your cabins.”

Nicci stiffened, preparing to demand that the captain acquiesce, but Nathan stepped forward. “That seems eminently reasonable, Captain. You’re a businessman, and we can be fair.” He plucked open the bindings of a small pouch in his palm and dumped gold pieces into the captain’s outstretched hand.

Surprised, the man looked at the coins, warred with his decision, and then handed two gold pieces back to Nathan. “This is enough, thank you.”

When the captain secured the coins in his own purse, Nathan whispered to Nicci, “We can always make more. Why not keep everyone happy?”

Rather than carrying huge sacks of coins from the D’Haran treasury, Nathan used his magic to transmute common metals into gold, so they never worried about having whatever money they needed. The wild people in the Dark Lands had no use for currency, but here in the civilized towns of D’Hara, Nathan found it useful to carry a fair amount of gold.

“For that price,” the wizard added, “my companion and I will each receive a private stateroom.”

The captain chuckled good-naturedly. “A stateroom? I see you’ve never been aboard the Wavewalker. In fact, I wonder if you’ve ever been aboard a ship at all? Yes, I can find a cabin for each of you. Some highborn nobles might consider them closets, but each room has a door and a bunk. After a week or two on the waves, you’ll think of them as fine accommodations.”

As long as she got to her destination, Nicci didn’t care about spacious rooms or padded furniture. “That will be acceptable.”

Some of the crewmen lounged on the deck, assessing the new passengers as if they were some strange fish they had drawn up in a net. Since the ship was due to depart soon, a stream of sailors continued to return, some staggering with hangovers, some carrying possessions they had purchased in port. They glanced at Nathan with a curious expression, no doubt wondering about his remarkable clothes and his fine sword, but their eyes lingered on Nicci, drawn to her long blond hair and the black dress that accentuated her curves. Nicci saw no sign of the young man she had rescued in the alley.

Dismissing the scrutiny of the sailors, the captain directed the two guests to their cabins. As she crossed the deck, Nicci noticed five shirtless men whose broad chests sported a waving line of tattooed circles. All five had dusky skin and mud-brown hair pulled back and tied like the tail of a warhorse. Although most of the crewmen turned their gazes away from Nicci’s stare, these haughty shirtless men stared at her with undisguised hunger.

Seeing their lascivious grins, Nathan stepped in front of Nicci. “Make way! Don’t you know this is Death’s Mistress?” The shirtless men grudgingly backed off.

Their cabins in the stern of the ship proved to be just as small and unimpressive as Captain Eli had led them to expect. Nicci could tell that Nathan was disappointed in the accommodations, and she said, “Even a small cabin is better than lying on the forest floor in the cold rain and fog of the Dark Lands.”

“You are ever the optimist, Sorceress,” he said. “I concur.”

For now, as the sun set over the delta of the Kern River and the tide began to go out, they went back up on deck to watch the preparations for departure.

Captain Eli shouted orders as his crew climbed the masts and crawled out on yardarms to unfurl sails. Others slipped thick hawsers from dock posts and loosed the ropes from stanchions on the pier. Hour bells rang from towers along the harbor.

She still had not seen Bannon Farmer aboard, and she feared the young redhead had blundered into another group of cutthroats in an alley and had suffered the fate she expected him to.

Just as the sailors prepared to lift the Wavewalker’s boarding ramp, though, a young man with long ginger hair bounded down the dock. “Wait for me, I’m coming! Wait! Wavewalker, wait!” Nicci noticed that he was now carrying a sword, which bounced and slapped against his thigh as he ran.

Bannon raced along as merchants and dockworkers scattered out of the way. He bumped into a reeling, drunken sailor who couldn’t seem to remember where his own ship was, but Bannon spun past him and ran up the boarding ramp. His fellow sailors laughed, and a few exchanged coins. “I told you he’d be too foolish to jump ship when he had the chance.”

Captain Eli gave Bannon a scolding look. “Some of our crew were betting you’d be a one-voyage sailor, Mr. Farmer. Next time don’t be late.”

“I wasn’t late, sir.” Bannon panted hard, swiping his loose hair out of his eyes. His cheeks were flushed with the effort. “I’m just in time.”

When Bannon noticed Nicci, his face brightened, and the broad grin only emphasized the growing bruise on his smashed lips. “You’re here! You came. Welcome aboard the Wavewalker.”

“It seems we will be passengers. This ship is going where we need to travel.” She took a breath, then added, “Thank you for the recommendation.”

He held up his plain, unadorned sword. “See, I found a blade. Just like I said.”

The other sailors joked. One said, “Some might call that a sword—I’d call it a grass cutter.” Another said, “Who do you intend to impress with that ugly thing? A blind woman? Or maybe a farmer who needs to chop down tall weeds.”

They all guffawed.

Bannon frowned at his clunky sword, then re-formed his expression into a cheery grin. “A sword doesn’t have to be pretty to be effective at killing,” he said, repeating Nicci’s earlier words. “It’s a sturdy sword.” He held it up. “In fact, that’s what I will name it. Sturdy!”

Captain Eli cut him off. “Enough showing off your sword, Mr. Farmer. Right now, I need your hands and your muscles on the rigging ropes. I want to be clear of the ships in the harbor and out in the open water before night falls.”

Standing beside her at the starboard rail, Nathan mused, “Well, we are on our way, Sorceress. To Kol Adair, wherever it is.” He gave her a wry grin. “I think I’m already starting to feel whole again.”