Crown of Renewal(168)
“In the end, we sank ‘em all,” Royan said at breakfast. They ate on the upper deck; the sailor steering now had less experience, and Royan watched him closely. “Better than most sea fights, and it’ll be a lesson to them. Other ships will have an easier time for the rest of the season, I expect.”
“How will those ashore know these lost?” Dorrin asked.
“The fires. Those flames would be seen ashore, and they know what that means.”
“So you don’t expect another attack?”
“No. Those ashore won’t see any gain in it.”
They sailed down the eastern coast of Aarenis, land just visible from the upper deck, with someone on the masthead watching for landmarks. Day after day of careful sailing; Royan had explained that shifting shoals reached well out to sea from this sandy coast. Finally, the lookout spotted the higher rocky point that marked the opening of the Immerhoft Sea. As the ship heeled, making the turn into that bright blue water, Dorrin felt a surge of joy from the crown. “Patience,” she murmured, looking south to see a similar rocky point that was her first view of Aare itself.
Ahead, islands showed against the blue. They would, she thought, be turning again to be well outside those guarding the entrance to the Immerhoft ports and Alured the Black’s pirate associates who watched every ship that passed into that vast bay.
But instead of turning away from the shore, the captain steered along it.
“We must go in for water,” he explained when she asked. “We lost days in the storm; we’re low, and what water we have is foul. I know the Sea-Prince told you we would not stop here, but do not worry, lady—we sail in and out of this port every year.”
“I was here during Siniava’s War,” Dorrin said. “My unit was allied with Alured’s … some people here may remember me. And … the unit I used to be with is now under hire to oppose him.”
“Politics.” He scowled for a moment. “You do not want to be seen as yourself, eh? You might be in trouble either way? But we will not go to Immerdzan, only to Ka-Immer. Were you there?”
Dorrin nodded. “Not for long, though. I would worry more about Immerdzan.”
“That delays too much when we sail all the way to the western ports. But even at Ka-Immer, it is true, officials come and look over the ship. You will be crew.”
“But I don’t know how—”
“You were soldier; you can use crossbow, yes?” At her nod, he smiled. “Yes. We have a day or more. You learned how to climb up—you will go up mast as high guard. Lucky you spent time on deck—tanned feet, tough on bottom. Lucky your hands are callused, too. I give you new name. Braid your hair like a sailor. Wear sailor clothes—we have. We clear out your cabin—no passenger aboard, just crew.”
“I’ll take my box down,” Dorrin said. He did not believe at first that no one else could move it, but when he couldn’t move it even a fingerwidth, he shrugged and showed her where to stow it.
By the time they came into Ka-Immer’s harbor, Dorrin had practiced that trip up and down the mast; she was able to do it as quickly as most sailors, even with a crossbow hung from her belt.
The port officers who came aboard at Ka-Immer glanced up at the guards above, but no more. Dorrin was in the mainmast’s basket, paired with another sailor. Her task was to watch the side of the ship away from the dock, where thieves in small boats or even swimming might try to climb the anchor cable to come aboard. Once more the small boat on deck was being rowed up and down by two of Blessing’s sailors.
Facing the other way, her partner kept up a stream of chatter about what was going on dockside. Water barrels going out, water barrels coming aboard. Cargo—furs, northern woods, dried fish—unloaded and sold. Other cargo—loaded and stowed. All day the traffic came and went dockside while she warned off five or six small boats that came too close on the other, always when their own boat was changing crew or out of sight at one end or the other.
Late in the afternoon, her partner said, “There’s something—the pirate himself just arrived.”
Dorrin almost turned around to look; instead she said, “What? Where?”
“At his palace. His banner went up. He claimed he’s a duke now, but he’s only a pirate really. Used to sail out of Whiteskull, and he’s still running that pirate fleet and another up at Slavers’ Bay. He doesn’t come here much. Lives somewhere up-river. Likely he won’t come down to the dock before we leave tomorrow. Banner goes up this late, he’s bound to have dinner tonight, and captain wants to leave at dawn.”