Tracato

“Don’t you talk to me about dignity,” Alythia snapped. “If you knew the meaning of the word, you’d not walk around in pants with a sword on your back. Talk about being a blight on the dignity of Lenay princesses, you’ve got some nerve.”

She shrugged the corset down her body and finally stepped out of the dress, which revealed curves that might have turned a less self-conscious woman than Sasha green with envy. Alythia, as most men seemed to observe, had a body made for sin. Sasha didn’t mind. She had a body made for war, and Errollyn liked it just fine.

“So what did he tell you?” Sasha asked, bouncing onto Alythia’s small cot. “About Tracato?”

Alythia took out a plain, brown and white dress from her chest, and pulled it carefully over her head. “It seems a strange place,” she said, muffled under her dress. Watching her, Sasha noticed that Alythia wore a knife in a sheath strapped to her shapely thigh…and Sasha wouldn’t have wagered good coin on the odds of that six months ago. “No kings nor queens, just the Council and the High Table. I’m not sure how it all works yet, but I understand more than I did.”

“Kessligh says the idea is to give the ordinary people a voice,” said Sasha. “Instead of just petitioning their lords, they have actual representatives in the halls of power.”

“Oh, Sasha,” Alythia said crossly, “for such a ruthless general, Kessligh can be so woolly-headed sometimes. It would never work, and there’s no way of truly telling who the people want as their representatives anyhow. People are so fickle.” She began letting down her hair, one pin at a time.

“Is that what Councilman Dhael thinks?”

“Don’t be daft, Sasha. Never ask a man what he thinks. Let him tell you of his own accord, that way he’ll never know which of the things he’s told you are valuable to you.”

“I didn’t ask whether you asked him his opinion,” Sasha retorted. “I asked whether you know his opinion.”

“He thinks Tracato doesn’t work very well,” said Alythia.

“How doesn’t Tracato work very well?”

“Oh, all this talk about ‘representatives of the people,’” Alythia said dismissively. “Councilman Dhael speaks prettily enough of his ideals, but truly, he’s just a merchant. Few enough of the Council are truly common folk, whatever their pieties; most are just schemers out for power. It’s so much simpler, Sasha, when the people know who’s in charge. But in Rhodaan, everyone thinks to be in charge, and stand on the shoulders of the other person to get there.”

“Aye,” said Sasha, sarcastically, “because the nobility are so much more well behaved.”

“You make fun,” Alythia said mildly, as dark curls unbundled down her back, “but in truth, they are. It is the natural order of mother nature, Sasha. Even wolf packs have leaders.”

“Aye, they rise all the way from the bottom of the pack. It takes more than being a pack leader’s daughter to become a pack leader oneself, Princess Alythia.”

“Aye, and if wolves owned lands, you’d have a fair analogy,” Alythia retorted. “But we can’t have everyone scrambling for power all the time, can we? Fighting over titles for lands? It would be a bloody massacre. It seems poorly enough in Rhodaan. Humans need structure, Sasha. Royalty and nobility serve their Godly purpose. This Rhodaani experiment seems ill advised indeed. The meddling of idealistic serrin and Nasi-Keth dreamers.”

Sasha thought about it as she lay in her hammock later that night. She was sleeping in the general quarters, as there was precious little dedicated space for high-class passengers on the Maiden. Councilman Dhael had the only other quarters, though he had graciously offered them to Sasha…her being a princess too, in her previous life at least. Sasha had, of course, declined. It was her own little snobbery, perhaps, that she did not need such luxuries. She liked being tougher and less refined than women like Alythia, or men like Dhael. It made her smug.

She, Kessligh, the three Rhodaani soldiers, Dhael’s three retainers and five other passengers all slept in the main quarters with the sailors. Privacy of sorts came from old sheets and blankets draped over ropes between hammocks. Being the only woman, she’d been allowed the forward-most space, up against the wall that separated main hold from forequarters.

Sasha lay with a blanket folded three times over her to ward the chill. Boards groaned and creaked, and above decks men shouted direction. Frequently there were footsteps or conversation over by the crew hammocks, as tired sailors changed shifts, or returned below decks for things they needed.

More footsteps, and then Errollyn pushed past the hanging blanket. He looked a little tired and grim.

“I was up the rigging,” he answered her unasked question. “The captain wanted a better look at the lights on our pursuers. He thinks to know them better by their nightshift.”

Sasha nodded. Serrin could see by night nearly as well as humans by day, and Errollyn’s sight was sharp even by serrin standards. “Do they draw closer?”

“No.” Errollyn removed boots, socks, bandoleer and jacket, stowing them in their saddlebags against the wall. “The captain fears a trap.”

Sasha nodded, biting her lip.

Errollyn climbed into the hammock beside hers…an unusual arrangement, which had caused some consternation amongst some crew and passengers, and some mirth with others. Sasha was usually bothered by little where lewd or stupid remarks on her gender were concerned, but this was different. Some called her “whore,” she knew, and it worked on her temper as such things never had before. Well…before Errollyn she’d been a virgin, so it had hardly been applicable.

She was one of only two women aboard, and she was sleeping with (or alongside, at least) a man who was not her husband…and was serrin, even worse. She’d thought a Rhodaani crew, with their superior affection for all things serrin, might not be bothered by this arrangement, but she was learning that humans were more similar from land to land than she’d have liked. Errollyn, they were fine with. Some might have even respected him more, for appreciation of his “conquest.” It was her they called the slut.

Errollyn pulled his blankets up, and reached across to put a hand in Sasha’s hair through the hammock netting, as she scowled at the ceiling. The motion of the ship made their bodies swing in time, barely touching.

“Why the face?” he asked her.

“It’s nothing.”

“Alythia?”

Sasha shook her head. Errollyn reached his hand beneath her blankets to grasp her own. Then he put it on her thigh. Sasha removed it. “That’s not like you,” Errollyn teased.

“Just rest it for a moment, will you?” Sasha said. Errollyn sighed, withdrew his hand, and laid his head back to sleep.

“I’m sorry.” Sasha wriggled sideways in the hammock. “I didn’t mean to snap.”

“You always snap. I’m used to it.”

Sasha could have argued, but didn’t. Denying her own temper was foolish. If she wanted the man she loved to stay in love with her, at some point she was going to have to stop picking unnecessary arguments.

“This ship annoys you. Very few serrin women would envy you, being what you are, here amongst humans.”

Sasha smiled. Of course he understood. He always understood. She reached, and took his hand. Her frustrations had hardly kept them abstinent, of course. The hammocks were not suitable for a couple without the privacy or patience to experiment, but the cargo hold was usually empty. Which had been hardly romantic, with no space between crates and bags to lie down, but they’d managed nonetheless. As svaalverd warriors both, they shared an interest in physicality, and discovering what their bodies could do together-in positions that did not involve lying down-had been an entertainment all of its own.

There came a round of unpleasant coughing from behind the next partition. Sasha swore lightly, and slid from her hammock. The other reason the hammocks were unsuited was that Kessligh bunked directly alongside. She suspected he wouldn’t have cared, but even so…

She slipped past the blanket, and found him half seated in his hammock, sipping from a water flask. “You all right?”

He grimaced, nodding as he drank. There was a small pan on the floor beside the bed, just in case. “Damn ships,” he muttered. “We’ll be in Tracato soon, that’ll cure me. What did Errollyn see?”

“They’re not gaining. The captain fears a trap. Perhaps we’d best not sleep?”