Empire of Ashes

Chapter LXIV - Aboard

I leaned against the railing, the rough wood scratching my bare arms. The sun was rising over the horizon, and I had not slept a wink. It was not that I had been uncomfortable — our hammocks below decks were fine. I simply couldn't get used to the floor moving beneath me. It wasn't too bad. Scarcely noticeable, in fact, until you lay still and there was nothing to do but think about the gentle rocking motion.

So I had tossed and turned all night and, when the sunlight had started peeking through the cracks in the deck, I had crept upstairs to watch the sun rise over Anglia. And that meant I was alone with the few crew members who had been on the night shift. One of them lumbered up on his break and leant beside me, far too close for comfort.

"I'm told your exotic friend is married," he told me. "You're not going to disappoint me too, are you?"

I eyed him sidelong, picking out the recent bruise on his chin. I wondered exactly what he meant by 'told.'

"Her name is Melia," I corrected coldly. "And yes, I am."

He spat out a wad of tobacco into the river water. "Taken, huh?"

"No, I wouldn't say that. I'm just not interested in lecherous pieces of goatshit."

A shadow crossed his face. He wasn't unpleasant to look at, but the inside of him was a different affair. "Come on, girl. There's no need to be nasty. I haven't done anything to you."

I looked away from him indifferently. "Cheap guilt-trip tricks won't work on me because I don't give a shit about being a good person. Go away."

The man's knuckles turned white, his grip on the railing vicious. He had no intentions of leaving, that was certain. So ... could I beat him in a fight? If I had a sword, yes, but I still had a weakness when it came to fist and feet. Even as I wondered that, the man edged closer still.

"Last warning," I said breezily. "Scat."

He smirked like he was about to do something stupid, and I had just moved my weight onto my toes when we were interrupted by footsteps behind us. We both turned around to see the newcomer. He was short, golden-haired, with dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept either.

"Kingfisher wants to speak to you," Glyn said.

"He does?" my harasser asked suspiciously.

Next came an impatient shrug of his shoulders, almost flawless in its delivery. "Yeah."

The crewman squinted at the boy. Clearly, he wasn't convinced, but he didn't want to risk ignoring his captain. He stalked away in the direction of the cabin, every heavy footstep setting the deck to groaning. If those still in their hammocks below had managed to sleep through the dawn, they were certainly awake now.

But he was gone, and I smiled to myself. Peace and tranquillity were restored, and I went back to staring at the sunrise. The water was now stained orange and red, and the sun had nearly parted ways with the horizon. There was enough light for Nightmare and the white stallion to see each other, and so they pawed at the dirt and flashed their teeth at each other. Nickers rang out as the other horses voiced their unease. There were a score of them, so it was not a quiet affair.

Every boat on the river was towed by horses because they were a lot cheaper to keep than oarsmen. There were two working to drag the Red Herring against the current at any one time, and another half dozen plodded behind their colleagues, ready to take their turns. Our horses were tied behind them. The two stallions were as far apart as physically possible, and somehow they still found ways to taunt each other.

"How long do you think we have?" I asked without looking at Glyn.

He was grinning — I could hear it in his voice. "Less than a minute. Fen was stirring when I left, though... We could go and find him."