Retribution

CHAPTER SIX

Prin sat in the chair outside and brooded about how unprepared she was to face the future. She still sat there when the young mage strolled past. His eyes paused on her, but quickly moved on, as did he. No words passed between them and her heart stilled, but there was part of the problem. She continued to think of him as her enemy, which he was, but he was far from the only one.

Is everyone my enemy? She paused at the thought. Perhaps that was a key to climbing the insurmountable wall in front of her. She should begin acting as if everyone was her enemy unless she knew otherwise. Her eyes drifted to a sailor hurrying about on some task on the deck below. Enemy.

The idea both chilled and warmed her. Chilled because it scared her, but warmed because the new outlook provided a measure of comfort that she wouldn’t make an elementary mistake because of not knowing the reason a person sailed with her. Every person on the ship was suspect.

Sara took the seat beside her. “Scared?”

“More than you will ever know, but not as much as a while ago.”

“What changed?” Sara asked.

“A woman sat where you are. She started asking questions.”

“And?”

Prin hesitated. “Too many questions. She was a woman, so I assumed it was safe to talk with her, at first. Now I know different. I have only two friends on this ship and no need to make any more.”

Sara settled back into her chair and lifted her face to enjoy the last warmth of the setting sun. “You will wear the crown, you know. I’ve never seen anyone who can adapt to circumstances as quickly as you. Now that you’re eighteen, you have experience, ferocity, and determination.”

“And I make too many mistakes and don’t know what to do once the ship reaches Indore.”

“I thought you had a plan,” Sara said without lowering her eyes to meet Prin’s.

“I did.” Prin glanced around the deck and determined nobody had managed to creep closer where they might hear. “Now, I’m rethinking it.”

“That is why you will succeed. You will send for me one day, won’t you?”

Prin shook her head as if refusing. “No. You will hear when I am Queen, and you can come join me at any time you like. Take a year. Or ten.”

“I plan to be there to protect you and help where you need it.”

“Then, come with me now,” Prin heard the pleading in her voice and despised it.

A thin man of forty who could use a full meal and a set of clothing that fit him wandered out onto the promenade deck and took a seat. He was five chairs from them, nearer the stern, and hadn’t so much as looked in their direction.

Prin glanced at the potato-of-a-nose Sara wore, the streaks of gray in her hair, and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Her skin had the pallor of an unhealthy woman. Yet, the thin man had been able to see them through the row of windows and knew they were there. An innocent man would have said hello or introduced himself.

His seat selection was also suspect. Prin knew sound carried fore to aft on a ship. Sitting where he did, he could probably hear their every word as they drifted in the sea air. She said, “Sara? Did you ever get over that contagious rash?”

Sara turned to her with a look of confusion.

Prin continued, “Don’t worry, I wore my protective skin cream. Besides, I’m sitting upwind, so I’m not going to catch it.”

The thin man hastily stood and slipped inside.

“That story will soon be all over the ship,” Sara said.

“I knew he was listening to us.”

“My, you are getting paranoid. And careful. I’m impressed. I have always loved sunset at sea.”

“And I’ve always been amazed how fast it gets cold when the sun goes down. Where’s Brice?”

“Sitting right inside, watching us.”

Prin should have known better. It was where she expected him, and if she hadn’t run off the thin man with the story about the rash that spread downwind, Brice would probably have intervened. While young, he was four years older than her but still inexperienced. His dedication made up for part of that. But it was not up to him to see her through—despite his intentions.

He might help, but it was up to Prin to do whatever was needed. She had to take control and eliminate the doubts plaguing her. “I’m going to the cabin.”

Sara held up the door key but remained sitting. As Prin entered the dining room and descended the stairs to the main deck, she heard Brice’s footsteps behind. Once in the cabin, Prin climbed into the lower bunk and ignored him entering and climbing to the top. She refused to cry and used her sleeve to wipe her nose more than once.

The night was cool, as were most in Gallium, and Prin wore her clothes to bed. She traveled light, for this trip. The cabin came with two thin, clean blankets and those would be enough. She placed her back against the wall and closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t come.

Prin waited for the steady breathing of Brice, but that didn’t come either. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“It’s my duty to guard you.”

Prin waited, then said, “We may have to change our plans.”

“I expected that.”

“Why?”

Brice seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “Because, if you go directly to the palace, your enemies will be waiting and kill you. They have probably put their own servants in place to poison you, or worse. The King and others will accept you and support your position. But others have worked for years to make sure you never become Queen.”

“Then what do you think I should do?”

Brice’s face appeared over the edge of the bunk above. “It is no longer my place to think. I obey my future Queen or that damned one-footed man who taught you to fight says he will run me through with a dull blade.”

“He’s so sweet.”

Brice rolled back onto his bunk and despite his stated good intentions, fell asleep almost immediately. Prin listened to his regular breathing and still found she couldn’t sleep, so she slipped from her bunk and went in search of Sara.

Prin found her in the dining room, sitting at a table with two other women, all of an age near fifty. They played a game with ivory markers on a board and dice, talking and laughing while sipping wine. Joining them didn’t appeal to Prin. She had other things to consider.

Without being noticed, she opened the door to the outside deck again, after taking a blanket from a small pile near the door to throw over her shoulders against the chill. A woman sat on one chair to her left, and a man to her right. The woman flashed a quick smile and turned her attention back to the endless ocean, while the man pulled a hat low over his eyes and ignored her.

Prin walked closer to the bow and found a place near the railing where she leaned against it and adjusted the blanket against the wind. The sails were full, the night dark and the wind came from the beam, so it struck her full on. She hadn’t heard the pops of sails, creaks of rigging, and rush of water against a hull for years, but it all came back. As the ship pitched and rolled, her legs compensated without thought.

The other woman stood and re-entered the dining room. Prin saw the lights of another ship far off the port side and watched as it converged. If neither changed course, in an hour they would sail close.

An arm slipped around her neck and pulled her tight against the chest of someone taller, and who needed a bath. The forearm locked against her windpipe.

Prin’s reflexes and training could have broken the chokehold, but she hesitated and waited. Her right hand slipped to the new knife at her waist, but she still hesitated. She didn’t believe she was in abrupt danger or he would have tried to kill her.

A voice whispered in her left ear, “I know who you are.”

She believed him. “How?”

“That house you live in. Old women enter, young ones come out, but never together. Not once in the two years that Jam paid me to watch.”

“Jam? He paid you?”

“So, you do know him? He says you do. I’m gonna earn enough gold to last me a lifetime when I turn you in.”

“Who do you think I am?”

“Hannah, the princess who ran away from Wren. Now, shut up, or I’ll slit your throat.”

“What are you going to do with me?” Prin asked, genuinely puzzled at what he intended. Did he think Sara and Brice would allow him to take her prisoner without objection? Or he could hide her for the entire voyage? No, he intended to murder her before anyone else figured out who she was and collected the bounty.

He used his height as leverage to turn her. She felt the edge of the blade he held at her throat and knew she was right. The same reward would be paid if she was dead or alive, and there were some who would probably pay more if she was dead. His arm tightened around her throat.

“You’ve made a mistake,” she managed to hiss.

He increased the pressure. He’d probably turned her to make sure they were still alone as he looked at the deck behind them. The pressure increased and cut off her air.

Prin reacted violently. After driving her heel down on his instep, she gripped her left balled fist with her right hand and rammed her elbow into him, just below the rib cage. She used the right hand to help drive the elbow deep into his soft belly. She felt the hold on her neck relax slightly, but enough. She reached over her head with both hands, fingers clawing for a grip on his hair. She filled both hands and quickly bent at her waist, yanking him over her shoulder as hard as possible.

The unexpected frenzy took him by surprise, and he tumbled over her shoulder, off balance. His momentum carried him another step, where he crashed into the railing, arms flailing in the empty air. He struck the guardrail hard. His upper body leaned far out, then his feet slipped, and he tumbled into darkness.

Prin had her fists balled to strike him again, but he was gone. The last impression was the soles of his feet as they slid over the railing. She hadn’t even heard a splash. Prin leaped to the side of the ship and looked over, hoping to find him on the deck below, but there was no other deck below, only the steep side of the hull, and the churning black water below.

She looked over the stern of the ship, but in the darkness, saw nothing to indicate a man had fallen overboard, and she knew it was almost impossible for a ship to turn and locate someone, especially at night. Her attacker was either drowned or soon to be.

His knife lay near her foot, and she retrieved it with two fingers. A poor excuse for a knife. She dropped it over the side.

Jam, this is your fault. Prin found the blanket and placed it around her shoulders again, then sat down and tried to calm the shaking that took over her body. Her almost daily practice with the combat master had given her the advantage from the first, and she knew it, but she hadn’t been in a true fight since fleeing Wren.

Not a fight. The word fight implied it had somehow been fair. It hadn’t. The outcome might have been different if the man had slit her throat at the first touch, but after that, he had no chance. Still, she hadn’t intended to kill him.

She felt her hands tremble and she almost rushed to the railing to puke but managed to hold it back. She sat and let the confusing thoughts come and go. She had meant to hurt him and didn’t know what she would have done if he hadn’t fallen over. In many ways, it was the best outcome, if she could regain control of her body and stop shaking.

Jam had put him up to it, and the man admitted he’d watched them for two years and knew their every move. He might have told others on the ship who they were but doubted it. He wanted the entire reward for himself. Besides, if she had defeated the man and not killed him, he would have told everyone on the ship who she was, just for spite.

Prin almost convinced herself she was not at fault, but the image of the bottoms of his boots going over the railing haunted her mind. She saw them as clearly as if the event had happened in daylight, only seconds ago. Perhaps the boots had caught lamplight cast through the windows of the dining room, but it was a sight she would never forget.

She stood and stumbled into the dining room, drawing the attention of Sara, who hurried to her side and hissed, “Prin, anything wrong?”

“No.”

“You’re lying to me.”

“I think I just killed a man.”

Sara pulled up in shock, then took Prin by her shoulder and spun her, forcing her into the passageway filled with doors to the cabins, but no people to overhear. “You don’t know if you killed him?”

Prin held her eyes focused on the planks of the floor. “I guess if he can swim he might still be alive. At least for a while.”

“A man fell overboard?”

“Not exactly. He attacked me with a knife . . . and you know how reflexes take over? Especially after the combat master teaching us for all those years? He put a knife to my neck.”

Sara said, “So you reacted and tossed him over your shoulder? There’s no blame for that.”

A man opened a cabin door down the passage and poked his head outside, looking to scold whoever was doing all the talking. Prin and Sara hurried to their cabin to escape his harsh words. Prin said, “Actually, that’s not totally the way it happened. He wanted to brag about watching us at Maude’s house. He said he’d been doing it for two years and had never seen the young girls with the older women, so he thought they were the same.”

Sara scowled in the dim light and ignored Brice hanging over the side of his bunk as he listened. “How did he know to look for you at Maude’s house?”

“Jam sent him.”

“He said that?” Sara’s voice had risen almost to a shout.

Brice said, “Keep it down. The walls between cabins are like nothing.”

“Jam paid him to watch us.”

Sara pounded one fist into her open palm and made a slap any boxer would be proud of. “Jam! Did this man ever report his findings to Jam?”

“He must have. I don’t know for sure.” Prin tried to remember all he’d said, but things had happened so fast.

Brice threw his legs over the side of the bunk and said, “Describe him, and I’ll go find him and beat some answers out of him.”

Prin turned her head up to face Brice. “No need. I already threw him over the side.”