Ocean of Dust (35 page)

"Who's out there? Show yourself," Farq
commanded, peering into the bushes. Four of his men closed around
him, their swords and polearms raised defensively.

Tarba stepped into the clearing, lowering his
sword. "Good, you've caught them. We thought you might need help.
You've been gone from the ship a long time."

Lissa gasped.

"I'm quite capable of rounding up a couple of
old men, but I appreciate your effort." Farq’s eyes narrowed. "How
did you know where to find us?"

"The girl said the cave was nearby," Tarba
said. "Let's get the prisoners to our boat."

Lissa backed away. He'd double-crossed the
captain. If she fled to the boat, was Yat in on it too? What about
the navigator? She scratched her head. There was a crack as loud as
a thunderclap.
Oh, no.
She’d stepped on a branch. Her head
jerked up and Farq looked right at her. His eyes widened.

"What's she doing here?" he cried.

Tarba's sword flew to the offensive and he
started toward Farq.

"It's a trap," Farq shouted to his men. "Kill
them all, especially that girl."

Four men leaped toward her. She screamed.
Tarba's left leg darted out and the first man tripped and fell
face-first into the detritus of leaves. Then Tarba swung his sword
at waist height and it crashed against the next man's chest,
knocking him to the ground. Swords met and sparks flew, as both
sides lunged and stabbed at each other. She continued to back away,
trying to hide in the undergrowth.

A polearm stabbed through the heart of
Tarba's right-hand man. Lissa screamed as a fountain of blood
erupted from his body, drenching the trees. The murderer tried to
tug his weapon free but it had obviously caught in the rib cage. He
grunted and let go of the long-hafted weapon, and the impaled man
crumpled dead to the ground. Unfazed, the blood-soaked attacker
drew a knife from his belt and continued toward her, his tongue
drooping from the corner of his mouth.

She turned to flee, then jumped when an arm
reached down from a tree, right in front of her face.

"Grab hold," Coy said from the branches
above.

She did so and he pulled her up into the
tree, groaning with the effort. The man slid his knife between his
teeth and climbed after her.

"Thanks," she said, and scurried along a long
branch, swinging up into a neighboring tree. "Quickly, come
on."

They both leaped into a third tree. The
branch cracked under the weight of their pursuer. He plummeted to
the ground, crying out when the heavy branch landed on top of him.
Needing to know what was happening in the clearing, she led the way
back, moving from branch to branch until they were above the
fighting men. The captain lay on the ground with Farq sitting on
top of him.

"I should've killed you earlier." Farq spat
in the captain's face. "Now it's time."

He raised his knife.

Without hesitation, she dropped from her
perch and crashed on top of Farq's shoulders. Her branch sprang
back up, dislodging heavy Jherodan nuts that clattered around them.
She fell to one side, dragging Farq with her. He roared his
frustration but she didn't stop to look. She scrambled to her feet
and ran into the bushes. Only then did she glance over her shoulder
to see that the captain had gotten up. He pried the sword from a
dead man's hand and chased after Farq. From somewhere above, Coy
whooped.

She ran around the perimeter of the fight.
Only two men remained on each side. Tarba lay slumped and panting
against a tree, pressing one hand to a bloody gash in his leg.

The huge shape of Sam strolled out of the
dark undergrowth, his sword dripping with a dark liquid. Her breath
caught and she scoured the trees for Jancid. Two of Tarba's men
engaged Sam with a flurry of blades. Eager to help, she snatched up
a fallen Jherodan nut in each hand and threw them at the giant. The
first one missed, but the second hit him between his eyes. He
howled and put a hand to his head.

"Jancid?" she cried.

"Hide you fool," the old sailor shouted from
deep within the trees.

She found him battling beside the captain,
their swords clashing with Farq's. Laughing, Farq drove his knife
into the captain's side. The captain grunted, glancing down at the
blood oozing from the wound and staining his shirt.

Jancid shoved the captain behind him, and
launched a furious counter attack, stabbing and lunging in rapid
succession, but he was no match for Farq. Jancid was driven
backward, stumbling repeatedly until he crashed into a tree. Farq
wasn't even breathing heavily, but Jancid's ripostes were strained
and slowing. Sweat poured from his brow.

Her mind raced. Farq was going to win, and
that meant they would all die.

Without a plan, she rushed headlong at Farq
and dived for his legs, grappling him. They tumbled together into
the undergrowth. His arm cracked against a stump and his knife
bounced into the darkness. Her every muscle tensed, her teeth
clenched, she stamped on his arm, and pushed herself up, preparing
to flee. Her hand touched something cold and hard, and her heart
skipped. She snatched up the fallen sword and stood in one fluid
motion.

Without thinking, she pushed the sword tip
against Farq's throat.

"Stop," she screamed, so loud that animals
and birds took flight from the distant reaches of the forest.

Farq twitched but remained prone. She
steadied her shaking grip with both hands and glanced around.
Everybody had frozen mid-action, staring at her, and the clearing
fell very silent.

"Everyone, throw down your weapons or Farq
dies," she said. "Sam, wherever you are, please give up. It's
over."

Farq's remaining two men dropped their swords
and fled, crunching away into the forest. Jancid pushed Sam forward
with a sword at his back, and the captain and Coy arrived last,
supporting Tarba. She studied the disheveled, bloodied men. So few
had survived the battle.

"Kill 'im, girl," Jancid growled. "Kill Farq.
The honor goes to you as any of us."

Her gaze swept from his stern face to the
captain, who said nothing. Sam stood with his shoulders slumped,
and wouldn't meet her eye. Coy looked as horrified as she felt. She
returned her attention to Farq. A tiny bead of blood had appeared
where her blade touched his neck.

He spat at her. Spittle dribbled down her
shirt.

"You haven't the guts for it," he said.

She set her teeth and tightened her grip on
the sword hilt. One thrust, one push, and it would all be over: the
fighting, Farq's anger, the beatings, the killing. All she had to
do was push. Bile rose up her throat and her hands trembled.

"See, she can't," he snarled. "Stupid,
cowardly galley girl."

"I can't do it," she said, and lowered her
head.

"Girl," the captain said quietly. "It's all
right. Go back to the boat. We'll finish him off."

She pictured Mampalo, slumped in the hallway,
watching his own blood leak away. His death hadn't been as swift
and painless as having his head severed. How long had he lay there,
wondering what his life would have been like, getting more and more
scared right up to his last breath?

She leaned into the sword, her hands tensing,
and then she stopped.

"No." She cleared her throat and looked the
captain in the eye. "There's been enough killing. No more."

Her icy gaze held his.

"So be it," he said. "We abandon Farq and Sam
here on the island, with any of his men that still live. That's
what they sentenced us to. Gather the weapons and take them to the
boat. We're leaving for good."

He gently pried the sword out of her
grip.

"There's no shame in it," he whispered, and
patted her on the shoulder. "You did good, Lissa. How many times
have you saved me and my ship now?"

Chapter 30 - Dinner with the Captain

Lissa and Branda crossed the main deck. Both
suns were low in the sky and the day had cooled to a comfortable
warmth. Most of the crew had gone ashore for a night on the town in
Jaleraj, the major port city of the Principality of Patraj. The few
who remained bobbed their heads and greeted the girls with a smile.
No dust blighted the freshly swept deck and the air smelled like
drying paintwork. The ship looked cleaner and more orderly than
when Lissa had first come aboard all those moon-cycles ago, or did
she finally regard it as her home?

Her green dress was cool against her skin,
cinched around her waist by a turquoise sash that Cook had given
her. Lissa carried her head high. The last time she had worn it,
her hair had cascaded over her shoulders. Now it barely reached
below her ears, though after considerable nagging from Branda, she
had tidied its ragged edges. One of Mampalo's strings of beads hung
around her neck. Branda wore her silver dress. They met each
other's gaze and smiled. Now they were ready for dinner in the
captain's cabin.

The door hung open, and they both paused on
the threshold and peered inside. It reminded Lissa of the
navigator’s cabin next door, but less cluttered. Paintings adorned
the walls, depicting dramatic landscapes, no doubt from all corners
of the world. The captain sat at a compact but finely carved dining
table. He wore an intricately embroidered blue tunic and pants,
with an orange sash around his waist. His black hair had been
re-braided into a pair of ponytails that hung to his belt, and he
was clean-shaven. He swiveled to greet them.

"Sit," he said, fluffed his napkin and placed
it in his lap.

Lissa and Branda sat opposite him. Lissa
studied the fine porcelain and crystal goblet before her. Did the
captain always dine like this? The navigator usually took his
dinner in his cabin. She glanced at the captain, intertwining her
fingers to mask her trembling hands. Why had he invited them
here?

"I have something for you, girl." He looked
at Branda and she flinched under his attention.

He leaned below the table and pulled out a
crystalline sakdra, offering it to her. Its facets sparkled in
every color imaginable, with a predominant tint of orange as it
reflected the golden rays of suns-set.

Branda gasped. "My sakdra."

The captain had to push it into her hands
until she finally took it, her mouth agape. She ran her fingers
over the holes and mouthpiece. Ito Lissa, it looked identical to
the huge instrument Branda had played at the festival.

"He should never have taken it from you," the
captain said. "If I'd have known, we could have been enjoying music
all this time. You have a thoughtful friend."

Lissa's cheeks burned under Branda's stare.
Returning her sakdra had meant to have been a secret.

Still clutching the sakdra, Branda kissed two
of her own fingers and touched them to Lissa's. She squeezed her
hand, thumb pressing down on top, and then before Lissa could
repeat the gesture, Branda let go and hugged her with a huge
squeeze.

"Thank you, thank you," Branda said,
addressing Lissa and the captain.

Coy and Tarba entered with trays of steaming
food, which smelled delicious, even though she and Branda had
cooked them earlier. Tarba's limp was noticeable as he served three
plates of roast jab-bird, hoobin-beets and pastoy, smothered in
rich, aromatic gravy. Coy set a pitcher of iced gej-juice and a
dark bottle of wine on the table.

"Enjoy," Tarba said, and they closed the door
on their way out.

The captain pulled the stopper on the wine
and poured a rich red liquid into his goblet, and then he filled
theirs with juice. He moved stiffly, trying not to turn to his left
side, and Lissa remembered Farq stabbing him on the island.

Both girls remained motionless and silent,
with their hands in their laps.

"Eat while it's warm," he said. "I happen to
know my cooking girls make a particularly delicious spiced
jab-bird."

Branda giggled. They picked up their knives
and forks and ate. Lissa savored every bite, too used to gobbling
down leftovers. She clutched her goblet safely in both hands.

"Oban, that is to say, the navigator, has
spoken at length about you, Lissa." He sipped his wine.

She swallowed her meat with difficulty. "He
told you I ruined one of his books."

"He did. He also told me you've been quite
persistent in your endless questions and interest in his charts."
He raised a single eyebrow. "I don't think he's used to someone
interfering in his work."

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to be any
trouble-"

He cut her off with a wave of his fork. "I'm
sure you didn't, but he made it very clear to me that he had no
intention of letting you do any navigating on this ship."

Her shoulders slumped. She pushed the beets
around her plate. After her deeds on the island, she had carried
high hopes that the navigator would train her. A silly idea, she
now realized. She was still just a galley girl.

"She not mean harm," Branda said quietly,
squeezing Lissa's arm. "Please not punish her."

"As I said," he continued, "he won't teach
you but wanted you to have this."

He pulled a tightly rolled parchment from his
waist sash and handed it to Lissa.

She snapped the seal and read it. Her hands
shook.

"What?" Branda asked.

"I... I..." Lissa stared at the captain.

"What wrong?" Branda repeated.

Lissa took a sip from her goblet, set it down
carefully, and finally found her voice.

She read aloud:

By the authority of Oban, Flux Navigator of
the second mastery, serving aboard The Fair Maiden of Yamin,
Captain Porrensa commanding.

This letter acts as a reference for the
admission of Lissa, bearer of this document, to the University of
Flux Navigation in Etra.

The bearer is to be enrolled as a full
student, including subsequent apprenticeships necessary to earn the
rank of Flux Navigator of the third mastery.