Part 43 (1/2)

'No. Actually, the face is familiar to me, and more than familiar. My grandfather expanded the family business, doing so with capital borrowed from this man.' His finger stabbed in the direction of the wall to their left. On the wall hung a small painting. The Red Duke of Roudhos.

'Grandfather would never have funded smuggling!'

'Oh ho! You admit your relations.h.i.+p to him, then! And yes he would have, especially if his part of the profits funded resistance to Andratan and Neherius.' Kidson smiled. 'Now you can work it out. Half the capital of this fleet is owed to the descendants of the Red Duke, so half this s.h.i.+p is rightly yours. Except, of course, no court would recognise your claim. So neither do I. You may be angry about it now, but you'll recognise the justice of it later.'

'Had I wanted to be rich,' Noetos countered, 'I could have been. Nor do I seek wealth now. I want what I said I wanted: for my family to arrive safely at our destination.'

A gentle knock sounded at the door.

'Wait a moment, Sai,' Kidson called. Then he leaned closer to Noetos.

'Very well,' he said. 'Here's my offer. If you desire revenge against Neherius, I will put whatever resources I have at your disposal, even to helping you set up a rebellion. I have little love for Andratan, and less for the Neherian fleet, which has on occasion hounded me even further north than here, if you could credit it.'

'I could credit it well,' Noetos said with a smile. 'But I have good news for you on that score. The Neherian fleet is severely reduced. I witnessed it, and played a small part in it. And the Neherian court is decimated, and in that I played a large part.'

'The news gets better and better,' Kidson said. 'And it is clearly a story I must hear. However, my doxy and my cabin boy are standing out in the rain.' He raised his voice. 'Miss Sai, please enter!'

The girl that followed the cabin boy in looked little like the girl Noetos had talked with only a week or so ago. Her cheeks had been hollowed out by the storm and her hair lay lank on her face. Nevertheless she took her place at the table. The captain pa.s.sed her a mug, which she upended in swift order.

'You wanted me, Captain?' she asked wearily, her voice carrying no traces of beguilement.

'Aye. Our friend the fisherman has helped us keep afloat over the last few days. You spoke to me of him last week, of how he fascinated you. I will place one gold coin, Malayu standard, in your purse if you spend the night with this man.'

Noetos expelled his breath noisily. He could feel his heart racing at the thought. In the brief silence that followed the p.r.o.nouncement, Noetos examined his options. He knew he should refuse, but he couldn't refuse the captain without offending him. And if he refused, Miss Sai would not get her gold coin.

Miss Sai came to his rescue. 'His children are in steerage,' she said to the captain. 'I am sure our fisherman would have trouble with his rod should his son and daughter form the audience.'

'True,' said the captain. He thought a moment. 'Then the first mate must make room for him.' He signalled the cabin boy. 'Go tell Sepa I want to see him, will you?'

He smiled at them both. 'Not often I can give everyone what they want,' he said.

'Thank you, Captain,' Noetos made himself say.

'The room will be yours at dusk, and you must leave by dawn. I trust that will be long enough.' He laughed at the double meaning, then slapped Noetos on the back.

Noetos spent an hour with the captain; long enough to further blur his consciousness, already affected by two nights of little sleep. Then, as the sky darkened towards evening, he made his way down to steerage.

Conditions were dreadful. Two of the tables and one of the benches had overturned, having broken their strapping; a man lay on the floor moaning, a leg badly bent beneath him; and every surface was covered in stale vomit. Noetos barely held his own bile in check.

I'd take a few willing hands to help clean this up rather than the 'reward' Kidson has offered me. He would refuse, of course; it was a grand gesture, a buy-off of someone he thought might have taken this voyage to confront one who owed him a great deal of money.

He called out for a.s.sistance, and a few pale faces pulled aside their curtains. His children were not among them: probably asleep. He secured the reluctant a.s.sistance of three helpers, their work with water and cloth partly undone when one of them threw up over the portion of floor they had cleaned. Noetos helped for what seemed an age, then sighed and left them to it.

The first mate's cabin was tucked in behind the mizzenmast, right at the stern of the s.h.i.+p. Not the ideal place, it was subject to a great deal of roll, but the seaway had settled down and, as Noetos closed the door, it certainly had a charm not offered by steerage in its current state. Including that of the girl waiting for him.

He took a breath of surprise and his resolve wavered for a moment. She had used the time he'd spent cleaning steerage to further tidy herself, and now appeared absolutely lovely. Her red hair, set high on her head, hung in ringlets framing her pale face and red lips. She had dressed in finery, her gown of lace and low neckline made from materials far beyond her purse, no doubt supplied by the captain when she entertained him. My doxy, he'd said.

Noetos sat down on a wooden bench some distance from her. She wrinkled her nose at him, but her eyes were alight and her lips curved in a smile. No one had ever smiled like that for him. Not Opuntia, not even in the early days; her smile had always been part calculation. How did this girl manage to seem so genuine? He hated those who played games. Unwittingly, perhaps, she had found the secret key to him.

'You need a bath,' she said. 'I have had a tub heated for you. Come, disrobe, take your bath while I search for clothes fit for our evening together.'

'Don't your, ah, men dispense with clothes?'

'There are no other men here tonight,' she said. 'I don't want to talk of them.'

He nodded, then stripped off his foul garments. She took them and dropped them outside the door, then stood back and appraised him.

'For an old man, you look good,' she said, her eyes crinkling as she spoke. 'Pole's about what I expected.'

He stepped into the tub and lowered himself into the gloriously warm water. 'You understand you and I will not be coupling tonight, do you not?' He stared at her, eyebrows raised.

'I thought not,' she said. 'Part of why-' She bit her lip.

'Part of why you find me fascinating?' he finished for her. She nodded, her lip still between her teeth, staining them red.

'Miss Sai, I spoke to you with civility, that's all. I treated you as a person when others treat you-well, as the Recruiters treated my own daughter. I'm very sorry you have come to such a poor pa.s.s that merely being treated as human fascinates you.'

He expected her to become angry, or perhaps break down and cry at his words. She did neither, simply taking the sponge and setting to work on his naked back.

'What happened to your daughter?' she asked. 'She has the look of one who has suffered.'

All of a sudden his chest and stomach turned hot. Tears broke from his eyes and coursed down his face. She has the key to me. He tried to hold his emotion in check, but within moments he was shaking with sobs, her arms around his neck.

'It's good to cry,' she whispered. 'I know, I know.'

Oh, Alkuon, he had not realised how locked up his feelings had become. An image surfaced in his mind: of Arathe in the dungeon of the Undying Man, mouth held open, pliers coming for her tongue. He told Miss Sai the story. They shared tears before it had finished.

He rose from the now-cool water and dried himself. She looked at him, wiping her eyes. 'I was going to find you fitting clothes,' she said.

'A sheet will do,' he replied, and took one from the bed.

She raised an eyebrow. 'You look ridiculous.'

'Not as ridiculous as the puffing men must look,' he said, thoughtlessly.

She reached over and placed a finger on his lips. 'No other men, I told you,' she said.

'Sorry, Miss Sai.'

'You've spoken of a daughter,' she said, 'but not of her mother. There is greater sorrow yet, fisherman. How wide must I cast my net to encompa.s.s it all?'

'Why? Why do you care?' he whispered.

'Because I can save you,' she replied in a small voice. 'Because I could not save another.'

So he told her, told it all, the n.o.ble and the sordid, and her young face displayed nothing but understanding. This is a miracle, he told himself. Candles burned down, flickering into darkness as knots decades old began to loosen within him. He spoke for hours, spoke until his throat was raw.