Naamah's Blessing

captain.”
    Septimus Rousse slapped a broad hand down on the table. If the table hadn’t been bolted to the floor, it would have jumped; I know I did. “With your permission, I’d like to come with you, my lady.”
    I raised my brows. “On the search?”
    “Aye, on the search!” He leaned forward. “Why not? I’ve got a good crew and an able first mate in Alaric Dumont, one of the best, a genuine descendant of Philippe Dumont. If anything were to happen to me, you’d be in good hands.”
    “Assuming whatever happened to you didn’t happen to the rest of us,” Balthasar Shahrizai observed.
    “True enough.” Captain Rousse grinned at him. “The jungles of Terra Nova! We could all die out there, couldn’t we?”
    “In ever so many ways,” Balthasar agreed with a sidelong glance at Denis de Toluard. “Or so I’m given to understand.”
    Denis frowned. “Would you prefer I painted an unrealistic picture of the dangers we face?”
    “His highness Prince Thierry was bound for a mighty river in search of this alleged empire, wasn’t he?” Septimus Rousse asked shrewdly, ignoring their bickering. He reached around the table with one long arm, pouring each of us a measure of perry brandy from a decanter. “Tell me, what do the lot of you know about navigating rivers?”
    Bao coughed. “Quite a bit, actually. There are mighty rivers in Ch’in.” I kicked his shins beneath the table. “But doubtless not as much as you, lord captain,” he offered.
    “We would be grateful for your aid and expertise, my lord,” I added. “If you are truly minded to accompany us, I accept the offer with gratitude.”
    Septimus Rousse hoisted his snifter of perry brandy, swirling andstudying it before tossing it back in one gulp. “Done and done!” he proclaimed, slamming the empty snifter onto the table. “I’m coming with you.”
    I was glad.
    Days wore onto weeks. We sailed and sailed,
Naamah’s Dove
riding abreast the waves, bellying her way over the swelling crests, plunging into the troughs. Captain Rousse studied his charts, studied the night skies, consulted his sextant, plotting our course across the trackless ocean. His capable sailors went about their business, fearless and uncomplaining.
    The rest of us simply did our best to stay out of their way and pass the time as best we might—reading or telling tales, playing at dice or card games, studying the Nahuatl tongue under Denis de Toluard’s tutelage. It was every bit as tiresome and cramped as Balthasar had predicted, and with a limited supply of fresh water for bathing, we did indeed grow increasingly malodorous.
    For me, there was also a certain loneliness at being the only woman in the expedition. Despite the fact that the men were polite and respectful, there was a rough-hewn sense of camaraderie among them that excluded me. Men have their own way of communicating, their own set of jests and boasts. When the seas were calm enough to permit it, they sparred with one another on the decks. Even when the seas were choppy, they scuffled and arm-wrestled and found ways of testing one another’s strengths.
    I didn’t begrudge them, but it left me feeling isolated. It wasn’t the first time I’d been the sole woman in the company of men, but never before had I been confined in close quarters with so many of them for such a long time.
    When I dreamed of Jehanne some six weeks into our journey, it was a welcome relief.
    Once again, I was back in the Palace, standing in the marble hallway before the door to my plant-laden bower.
    This time, I smiled as I opened it.
    “Hello, Moirin.” Jehanne’s blue-grey eyes sparkled at me. She wassitting curled on my bed clad in only a thin shift of white silk, her fair hair loose and shining over her shoulders. The wonderful fragrance of her perfume mingled with the green scent of sun-warmed plants. “Have you missed me?”
    “Always.” I closed the door behind me. “Have you a message for me, my lady? Have the gods deigned to grant you further knowledge?”
    “Mayhap.” Jehanne tilted her head. “Or mayhap it was your loneliness that drew me out of mine. Come and kiss me.”
    I obeyed gladly; glad, too, that in my dream, I was freshly scrubbed and clean, clad in clean attire.
    “Again, please,” Jehanne said; and there was a vast ache of loneliness in her voice, vast enough to put mine to shame. I climbed onto the bed beside her and slid my hands into the shimmering, silken curtain of her hair,