‘Ashore?’ Velindre was taken aback, but only for a moment. Very well.’ She got gingerly to her feet. ‘How do you feel?’ Risala held out a supporting hand.
Velindre brushed it aside. ‘Light-headed,’ she admitted cautiously. ‘Fresh air should help.’
The only question in her mind was where she should flee to. Back to Relshaz or to Hadrumal? Either way she would be provided with the means to bespeak Dev before the day was out. He could go whistling for any lore on dragons until he apologised on bended knee for dragging her into this insanity.
The magewoman followed Risala through the narrow door to find herself on an equally narrow gangway running between tiered ranks of rowers. They all looked back at her with frank curiosity, sitting in the shade of the trireme’s side decks. Velindre looked up at the strip of brilliant blue splitting the uppermost level.
‘Up you go.’ Risala urged her towards a broad-runged ladder.
Her desire for the touch of the breeze was more than hunger, more than thirst. Velindre climbed as fast as she could, her knees still weak, her hands clumsy as she pulled herself upwards.
Risala followed close behind her. ‘This is the Kaasik domain. We’re just over half a cycle of the Greater Moon south of Relshaz.’
Velindre ignored the barbarian girl. She ignored the bearded Archipelagans on the cramped stern platform of the trireme. Best to return to Relshaz, she decided, and seek advice as well as some decent clothing from Mellitha. She reached for the breeze toying with an ochre pennant flying from the arching stern post.
There was nothing there. She could see the wafting silk and hear its faint rustle and snap, but she couldn’t sense the air that stirred it. Velindre looked at her hands in disbelief. The breeze drifted across her open palms. She felt it but couldn’t take hold of it. Gooseflesh prickled on her bare arms despite the heat of the sun. She seized Risala by the shoulders, shaking her viciously. What have you done to me?’ Wincing as Velindre’s fingers dug into her, Risala looked past the furious magewoman to one of the mariners, her few words quelling. Then she looked Velindre in the eye, blue gaze emotionless. ‘We did what had to be done. We cannot risk any inadvertent display of your skills. And I
didn’t imagine you’d stay long if you were able to leave.’
‘What have you done?’ Velindre’s voice cracked with fear and fury.
Risala looked over the wizard’s shoulder again, insisting on something in brisk Aldabreshin before returning her gaze to Velindre. ‘It is a different kind of soporific’
Velindre gripped the skinny girl so hard her own hands ached. ‘As soon as I can work the slightest magic, I’ll be gone. You can all be cursed to whatever fate awaits you, along with your dragon.’
‘You’ll be in Chazen waters before that happens.’ Risala spoke through gritted teeth, her eyes creased with pain. ‘You can talk to Dev. If he can’t convince you to stay, we won’t stand in your way.’
‘I’ll be long gone before that.’ Velindre declared, but the girl’s self-assurance was making her uneasy. ‘The mage soporific is in all the water aboard this ship,’ Risala said bluntly. ‘Refuse to drink and you’ll be insensible before you recover your spells. Then I’ll just pour the draught down your throat like I’ve been doing so far.’ One of the mariners behind Velindre said something loud and threatening. She glanced over her shoulder to see the man brandishing a naked dagger back and forth. His dark face was stern and unfriendly. The other two men had their hands on their own dagger hilts.
Reluctantly, she let Risala go. ‘You seem to have covered all the angles on this game board.’
Risala’s laugh surprised Velindre and the three Aldabreshin mariners. ‘I didn’t think you played the stones game on the mainland.’
Velindre shook her head. ‘I was thinking of a game called White Raven.’
Risala looked at her, uncomprehending, before shrug—
ging. No matter. We’ll have plenty of time to discuss such things. Let’s go ashore. The sooner you learn even a little about our ways, the safer we’ll all be.’ As she spoke, she unbuckled the lizardskin belt from around her waist and Velindre realised that the girl had been wearing two daggers all along. She slid one off, sheath and all, and offered it to Velindre.
‘So your eunuchs aren’t entirely emasculated.’ The wizard woman frowned as she took it. ‘What’s to stop me sticking this between your ribs the first time your back’s turned?’
‘Anyone who finds me dead will kill you in the next breath.’ Risala said something to the three men, who all laughed. The foremost waved his dagger at Velindre one last time before sheathing it solidly.
Feeling chilled once more, Velindre followed Risala to the stern of the ship, unbuckling her own belt to thread the plain black leather through the dagger’s sheath. She saw a long ladder hanging down to the water. A piercing whistle beside her made her jump. The bearded Aldabreshin chuckled and pointed to a youth sculling a small flat boat towards them with a single oar over the stern.
‘He’ll take us ashore,’ Risala explained. Velindre’s hand went instinctively to her belt. ‘Where’s my purse?’
‘Safe.’ Risala was unperturbed. ‘It’s no use to you here.’ The youth caught hold of the lower end of the ladder and Risala swung her legs over the slope of the stern timbers, climbing rapidly down. Velindre followed more carefully. The dagger at her belt was hard and inflexible, digging into her thigh. The sensations of wearing trousers were unfamiliar and unwelcome. Worse than anything else was the motionless emptiness all around her. She was cut off from the most basic, instinctive sense of the elements that had been with her for so long she had come to take it for granted. It was worse than being blind or deafened. Nausea rose in her throat.
She landed in the boat with trembling legs and sat down hurriedly. ‘So what—’
Risala cut her off with a merciless smile. When we’re ashore.’
Velindre realised the lad at the single stern oar was watching her, dark eyes hright and curious. She caught his gaze and held it, summoning all the disdain she felt for this place and its deceits. Her bruised spirits rose fractionally when he looked away, unease replacing his cockiness.
The shallows were crowded with a bewildering array of small boats, scurrying to and from the larger ships at anchor out in the deeper water. Velindre searched for any more familiar-looking vessel among the sleek triremes and the fat-bellied galleys with their square-rigged sails furled in hanging swags. There was none that she could see. She concentrated on keeping her growing wretchedness at bay until they reached the shelving golden beach and stepped into the ankle-deep surf.
Risala exchanged a few words with the youth. What does he get out of ferrying us?’ Velindre desperately sought distraction from the realisation that the earth was inert beneath her feet as the two of them walked up the sand.
‘The satisfaction of having done a good turn to a Chazen fast trireme. The shipmaster won’t forget his face, if the lad comes looking to take an oar out of these waters sometime in the future.’ Risala ticked off points on her fingers. ‘And he’s proving to whomever Kaasik Rai has presiding over this trading beach that he’s reliable and trustworthy. If he keeps his wits about him, he should be able to make a few trades of his own.’
‘Trading what?’ Velindre demanded. ‘You want me to learn. Teach me,’ she snapped.
‘His services.’ Risala paused to survey the scrubby fever trees that separated the beach from the dry and dusty clearing beyond. ‘And whatever his fortunes bring him by way of gifts from people like us.’ Velindre made a derisory noise. What gifts could you offer him?’
‘You’d be surprised.’ Risala reached inside her faded, saggy tunic and produced a small, soft leather bag. Untying the drawstring, she tipped it to let a few glistening pearls roll to the lip of the leather. Earl was as large as a woman’s smallest fingernail.
Velindre blinked. ‘What are these worth hereabouts?’