Naamah's Blessing

Rousse leaned over the railing. “Lady Moirin!” he called in a good-natured tone. “Come aboard, won’t you? We’re losing daylight.”
    Reluctantly, I released my father.
    He turned to Bao. “Keep her safe?”
    Bao clasped one hand over his fist, bowing in the Ch’in manner. “It is my life’s mission, Brother Phanuel.”
    And then there was nothing left to say, nothing left to do but boardthe ship. Another ship, another journey. We cast off from the wharf and began to make our way down the broad surface of the Aviline River. I stood in the stern and watched as the figure of my father dwindled to a crimson speck, and then vanished altogether as the white walls of the City of Elua fell away behind us.
    “So we’re off on another adventure,” Bao said softly.
    “Yes, and I expect it’s going to be every bit as dreadful as I feared,” Balthasar Shahrizai announced, joining us with Denis de Toluard in tow. “Have you seen the size of the cabins?” He shuddered. “Ghastly.”
    “At least you have a cabin, my lord!” one of the sailors called cheerfully to him. “If you want to see truly cramped quarters, come sling a hammock in the main berth!”
    Balthasar gave the fellow a jaundiced look. “I think not.”
    Bao laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll get used to it.”
    He shuddered again. “Elua have mercy, I hope not! Months on end of living cheek by jowl with a motley group of increasingly malodorous, malnourished adventurers… no, no thank you.”
    “Are you going to carry on like this for the entire trip?” Denis de Toluard asked with asperity.
    “I might,” Balthasar admitted.
    The other rolled his eyes. “You didn’t
have
to come, you know. It would have been enough to back it.”
    “Actually, it wouldn’t.” Balthasar’s gaze fell on me. “You may not think much of my sense of honor, Denis, but I couldn’t have abided knowing a young woman’s courage put mine to shame.” He shrugged. “So here I am. Now, shouldn’t we be singing sea shanties or throwing the old knucklebones or some such thing? Something nautical to while away the tedium?”
    I laughed. “Give it a few hours, my lord. We’ve only just set sail.”
    He heaved a dramatic sigh. “It’s going to be a very,
very
long journey, isn’t it?”
    For a surety, it was.
    As the days passed, we settled into a routine. Bao and I shared a narrow berth in a small cabin off one of the two wardrooms, with the remaining five cabins occupied by Balthasar Shahrizai, Denis de Toluard, and three other ranking noblemen: a hot-tempered Azzallese baron’s son named Alain Guillard; a steady L’Agnacite fellow named Brice de Bretel, younger brother of another baron; and the third son of a Namarrese comte, copper-haired Clemente DuBois, who had a tendency to make bad jokes whenever he was nervous.
    Once we passed the harbor of Pellasus and left the relative placidity of the Aviline River for the open sea, that was quite often.
    There were times when I could understand why sailors loved the sea, both for its endless beauty and the primordial challenge it offered; but I will own, they were few and far between. For better or worse, I was a creature of earth and trees and green growing things, and I didn’t like being away from land. In my experience, sea voyages entailed long periods of tedium broken up by storm-tossed hours of terror.
    Still, we endured.
    As the only woman aboard the ship, not to mention a bear-witch of the Maghuin Dhonn whose vision had launched the expedition, I was an object of curiosity; but for the most part, both the crew and our force of fighting men were polite and respectful. Bit by bit, I came to know most of them by name.
    On most evenings when the weather was good, Captain Rousse invited Bao and me, and usually Balthasar and Denis, to dine in his cabin, which was larger and more well appointed than our wardroom.
    Septimus Rousse was a clever fellow beneath his bluff good cheer, and I soon came to value him. On our first evening together, he posed a blunt question to me.
    “So tell me, Lady Moirin, what
did
your vision show you?” he inquired. “Do you know where to find his highness? What’s befallen him?”
    “I wish I did,” I said with regret. “But no, I’m afraid not. All ittold me is that Thierry’s alive. That is the only thing of which I’m certain.”
    He sighed. “The gods are stingy with their directions, aren’t they?”
    I nodded. “That they are, my lord