'Is that what happened, Malorrie?' Tynnel demanded.
The captain's use of the alias Jherek had borrowed for the voyage underscored the liberties he'd taken with the truth already. He didn't hesitate about his answer. 'No, sir. It was I who made the argument physical.'
Tynnel's harsh gaze softened a bit then, and his voice as well. 'That's too bad. When I hired Sabyna on as ship's mage, we were both aware of the complications a woman brought to a ship of men. There's a rule about-'
'I'm not a crewman,' Jherek interrupted, 'nor was this fight over her.'
'If nothing had been said about Sabyna, would you have fought these men?'
Jherek took a deep breath in through his nose. Even with only one eye, he saw there was no arguing with Tynnel's position. The fear that rode him clawed its way through his stomach, tightening his muscles so his ribs pained him even more. 'No, sir.'
'I say that the argument was over her,' Tynnel stated. He reached into his coin purse and took out coins. 'I'm returning your ship's passage, and I'm adding what I think is a fair price for the work you did aboard.'
Jherek listened to the captain's words, not believing he'd just been thrown off the ship. It wasn't right, but the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him Tynnel wouldn't entertain any arguments about the matter. Despite everything, his ill luck held true, the most constant companion he'd ever had.
'Keep the coins,' Jherek said in defeat. What silver he had wouldn't leave him much to buy another berth on a ship bound for Baldur's Gate, but it was only fair.
'I can't keep it,' Tynnel said.
'You didn't have a hand in this fight,' Jherek said. 'You earned your pay.'
'I won't keep the passage fare,' Tynnel stated, 'and you earned the extra.'
Jherek saw the determination in the captain's eyes and respected it. 'Then keep it for the boy we rescued from the shipwreck. Even the orphanage here in Athkatla can use a donation while they try to find his family.' It was as close as he could figure to balancing the score between them.
Tynnel stared at him a moment longer, then put the coins away. 'I'll do as you ask.' Tynnel lowered his voice then, speaking so he could be heard only by Jherek. 'I'm sorry this has to happen,' he said, 'but I have rules for a reason.'
'I know,' Jherek said. 'I understand.'
Rules were a big part of Jherek's life as well. They'd offered security for him that his upbringing and early years hadn't allowed. From time to time, they'd even held his bad luck away, and he knew no one rule could be broken without sacrificing all the others.
'I'll have your things sent here,' Tynnel said, 'you can't come back to the ship.'
Jherek nodded, grimly accepting the judgment, and asked, 'You know about the dangers along the Sword Coast? The sahuagin attack on Waterdeep?'
'And the other ships as well,' Tynnel said. 'We've sailed dangerous waters before.'
An image from the dreams he'd had about the great shark surfaced in Jherek's mind, sending a cold shiver down his spine when he thought of Sabyna out on the Sea of Swords. 'Perhaps not as dangerous as these,' he said. 'Sail safely.'
'And you.' Tilting his head, Tynnel nodded. 'Ill tell her you're here, and I won't stop her from coming to see you if she wishes.' He turned and walked away.
Aysel brushed free of the crewmen herding him out the door. 'This ain't over, boy!' the big man roared, pointing at Jherek. 'Me and you and her, this little jig ain't heard the final tunes yet.'
Jherek almost said something, but he refrained. Tynnel wouldn't allow anything to happen to the ship's mage. Still, he could warn her if she came to see him before she set sail. The possibility that she wouldn't left him feeling empty. He also had no clue what he was supposed to do next.
Live, that you may serve.
The words haunted him, taunted him, and-by turn- tormented him. If some greater power had taken an interest in his life, why wasn't it making its desire more clear? Why make every step increasingly difficult? Had whatever destiny that had been laid before him somehow gotten tangled up with the bastardized birthright that was his? The gods weren't infallible. Perhaps he'd been chosen wrongly. Even a small mistake made by a god might stretch across mortal lifetimes before it was caught.
'C'mon, boy,' the old warrior said, taking Jherek gently by the arm. 'Best have that wound tended to. The longer it stays open, the greater chance for infection to settle in.'
Reluctantly, Jherek went with the man. He had no answers to any of the questions or problems that plagued him. He drew the attention of the serving wench who'd taken part in Aysel's scheme.
'If a woman should come searching for me. ' he said.
The serving wench bobbed her head. 'I'll tell her straight away where to find you.' Moisture glinted in her eyes. 'I'm sorry for the way things turned out. I thought it would only be a joke. You deserved to be treated better than this.'
'It's not your fault, lady,' Jherek said softly. 'The ill luck was mine. It always has been.' He touched her shoulder gently and managed a small smile, then he stepped out into the harsh Amnian sunlight, smelling the sea so near, yet so far away.
He considered the ships out in the harbor, his eyes drawn to one in particular.
XXX
13 Tarsakh, tike Year of the Gauntlet
Laaqueel surveyed her image in the mirror with growing distaste. Iakhovas's magic had woven an illusion over her that even she couldn't pierce. She held her hand up to her reflection. Looking at her hand, she saw the webbing between her fingers, but the mirror image didn't have it. Her fingers looked clean and smooth, grotesquely human, without any means of real defense. The hated tan color that marked her as different from the aquatic elves she was supposed to resemble most took on a hue that was more brown in the reflection. Cosmetics adorned the totally elven face she spied in the mirror, emphasizing her eyes and making them suddenly seem too large, her lips too full. Rose blush touched her pronounced cheekbones.
Thankfully, she wore the combat leathers Iakhovas had bade her wear while they were in the city. After they'd arrived, he'd ushered her into the suite, telling her there was not much time. The garments were of dark brown leather that was creased and worn, supple in its age. They covered her trunk and legs, leaving her breasts partially bared. Knee-high boots with flaring sides encased her feet too tightly. A long sword hung at her hip, almost touching the hardwood floor. A russet-colored cloak hung to her ankles, heavy with all the throwing knives, caltrops, and garrotes that she'd stored in the secret pockets she'd discovered.
'Despite what you yourself might think, little malenti, you look ravishing.'
Keeping her expression neutral, not wanting to show the anger she felt or the unrest caused by the fact she hadn't heard him enter, Laaqueel turned to face her master and said, 'I only hope to look satisfactory.'
Iakhovas nearly filled the door opening into the large suite. He looked like himself to her, and she wondered if he was covered by an illusion as well. He was taller than most men, taller even than the occasional Northman she'd encountered in her spying efforts along the Sword Coast.
'Wearing a true human's guise is hard,' he said, 'especially when you know you are so much more.'
His garments were azure and black, the colors bold and striking. His two-toned cape held the color scheme, black on the outside and azure on the inside. For once, he looked as though he had two eyes, and she knew the intensity of his illusion was deeply layered but built on the way she was normally allowed to see him. It reminded her again that she might not have ever truly seen his real face.
'Trust me when I say you look more than satisfactory.' Iakhovas walked to one of the room's many windows and pulled the curtain back. Beyond the glass a cityscape spread out, the streets and alleys seen below their position stringing out to reach the sea. Wagons and dray horses lined those streets as the deckhands and sailors went about their business.
'Where are we?' she asked.
He kept his back to her and lifted one of the windows.
