Koldis the Green (DRAGONWALL SERIES 4)

CHAPTER 36: HEALER'S ORDERS

Dragonfire Sea

Bennett compressed his spyglass and slipped it back into his pocket. "All is well," he said, relying the message he'd intercepted.

Salt code, they called it; a way for ships to communicate with small mirrors to catch the light. They could move the mirrors in short and long flashes that conveyed messages to nearby vessels. It would allow them to better coordinate their arrival along the coast in Celenore.

He stood on the rear deck, gazing out over the vast stretch of sea between Lady Faith and the other ships, scattered both ahead and behind them. They dared not travel too close together. They'd departed at different times from Port Ice, so as not to arouse too much suspicion. Each flew a small blue ribbon on the highest point of the mast as an identifier.

"How many are there so far?" Mikkin asked from beside him.

He glanced over before answering. "Nine. Just two more, and we'll be set to lift anchor."

Their negotiations had been brief. After settling on terms with Cat in Port Ice, he'd spent the next few days in discussion with Mikkin, helping to coordinate between Mikkin's Dwargs and a number of merchant captains, all of which he'd vouched for. To see Mikkin's relief was satisfying, knowing he'd done the man a favor in lending not only his ship, but his recommendations to the Dwargs.

It wasn't out of pure generosity. He didn't do things out of the goodness of his heart. He had a crew to govern, after all.

Still, once he had come to understand what Mikkin's purpose was, he couldn't refuse. Especially knowing Lord Dubrael—the Dwarg lord overseeing the Dwargish preparations—would pay handsomely. And so his ship sat heavy in the water with Ice Metal once more, but not in its raw form like before. This was armor and weapons, safely stowed in the cargo hold.

Mikkin had insisted on traveling with him. He'd also insisted on bringing Jamie and that creepy little urchin, Unka. His was a merchant vessel. They hadn't balked in the slightest when he warned them they'd be sleeping in hammocks with the rest of the crew. "You'll be more comfortable on Harper's Song, with a cabin to yourself and some of the Dwargish soldiers about you," he'd tried. But Mikkin had refused. So here they were. Fortunately, he didn't mind Mikkin's company. Unka's however...the crew muttered plenty about the Gobelin.

Cat's head appeared on the stairs. The golden strands laced through her dark hair caught the light as she climbed the rest of the way up. Mikkin's eyes narrowed but he smartly said nothing. "Tris is fine," she offered in answer to Bennett's questioning gaze. "His ego was the only thing I couldn't mend." She crossed her arms and took up a stance a few paces away, staring over the water.

"Thank the gods," he muttered, relieved. He hadn't been sure how skilled she was. Had worried her magic would be pushed to the limits. "Perhaps I'll keep him away from the rigging for a time." Tris had been up on the masts, reattaching ropes when he'd slipped. It wasn't common, but it happened to even the most experienced when they gambled with fate. Tris was apprenticing as a boatswain, which meant regular checking of the pulleys and rigging.

Few had seen him slip, but all had heard the awful impact. They'd carried him below, moaning and wailing, straight to Cat's cabin where they laid him on the patient work table. She'd somehow weaseled a larger accommodation agreement out of him, after making it clear that having such a work table would benefit the crew. Today, her insistence proved worthwhile. He'd seen Tris's body atop it, broken, and thanked the gods he'd been a pushover.

She'd shooed them away and set about mending Tris's spine and shoulder, both broken but not beyond repair. Were it not for her magic, Tris would have died. Of that he was certain. Tris wouldn't have been the first he'd lost to ship accidents. But perhaps with Cat around, there'd be few losses to worry over in the future.