He winced. “I didn’t mean to say ‘gush.’ ” Straightening, he stared at something over my left shoulder. “There’s a boat coming,” he said sharply.
She was a sloop, narrow and graceful, beating up Nemertes Water at a good clip with a jib and staysail billowing out before her. I read the name in gold letters: Conthar. An oddly shaped object, covered with a piece of canvas, sat near the rail. I caught a flash of metal at its base.
A cannon. My mouth went dry.
As the sloop angled closer to us, I saw a woman hanging onto the forestay. “Hellooooo!” she shouted.
Markos stiffened.
Across the water, I heard the woman arguing with a man who sat on the cabin roof. “Well, they ain’t answering,” she said. “It’s not her. Look at the name. Octavia.”
“That’s Nick’s boat.”
“Look at it through the glass, old man.” She shoved a spyglass at him.
“My eyesight is fair enough.” He pointed his pipe at us. “That’s Cormorant or I’m a marsh goose.”
I recognized his voice. As they sliced across Cormorant’s bow, well ahead of us, I waved.
Markos hissed, “What are you doing?”
I ignored him. “Is that Perry Krantor?” I hollered across the water. “Captain Krantor of the Jolly Girl?”
“How be you on this fine morning, Caroline Oresteia?” he called back.
The man on the wheel turned away from the wind. Conthar spun in a circle, dropping astern, but in a moment she had caught back up. Her crew let fly the jib and let the mainsail luff, to keep pace with Cormorant. I could see their faces now. The woman was Thisbe Brixton.
“I didn’t know that sloop,” I said.
“Borrowed.” Captain Brixton leaned over Conthar’s starboard side. “We’re bound upriver. Twenty of us, stout wherrymen all. We’re going to do for those bastards what set fire to Hespera’s Watch.”
“You’re going to take on the Black Dogs?”
“Ayah.” Her long braid whipped out in the wind. “We couldn’t touch ’em on the sea, but we ain’t on the sea. These are the riverlands. We know these waters better than they do.”
“They gone up the Kars,” I called. “That’s what I heard anyhow. And best watch out. They got friends—the sloop Alektor.”
Captain Brixton’s eyes settled on Markos. “Who’s that? He looks like someone …”
“Just a cousin,” I said, hoping she didn’t know much about my family. He certainly didn’t look like me or Pa, or indeed any of the Bollards. I cursed myself for not thinking of a better lie.
Captain Krantor removed his pipe from his mouth and gave me a sharp look, but he didn’t say a word.
“Have—have you any word of Pa?” I held my breath.
He shook his head. “He be in the harbor master’s lockup.”
I exhaled. Thank the gods. He was safe enough for now. Hopefully Ma would be successful in springing him from the brig.
Captain Brixton snapped her fingers. “I thought of it. He looks like the man on the cent piece.”
I opened my mouth to say the cent piece had a tree on it.
She anticipated me. “Not ours. The Akhaian one. They’re not called cents, they’re called something else, but anyhow they’ve a young man on them. And you look like him.”
Markos smiled uncomfortably.
“Of course, that’s not likely where I know you from.” She laughed. “It’s just a bit of whimsy. Pay me no mind.”
“What news of your wherries?” I called, before Captain Brixton could explore any further down that tributary.
“I’m forgetting you left that very night,” Captain Krantor said. “Finion Argyrus come up himself from Siscema. No finer salvagers than Argyrus and Sons, to be sure. If anyone can raise those boats, Argyrus will!”
“You don’t get the best of a wherryman that easy, eh, boys?” Thisbe Brixton shouted. “Ayah, and didn’t the Old Man send us for vengeance?” I saw Markos glance at Captain Krantor, but I knew that wasn’t who she meant.
A ragged cheer rose up from the men.
Captain Brixton threw me a farewell salute. “Current carry you, Oresteia!” Conthar sheeted in and shot away, whisking toward the northern end of Nemertes Water. I wished I was going with them.
“I shouldn’t be on deck,” Markos said.
“They’re on our side. You look like the man on the Akhaian cent piece, do you?” I hit him on the arm. “I knew we should’ve kept you dressed like an old woman. Gods damn me.”
“My grandfather’s on that coin.” He rubbed the crease between his eyes. “How much does a wherry cost?”
“Why—”
He just looked at me. “You know why. This happened to them because of me.” His shoulders were hunched, as if the burden weighed heavily on him. “I should make restitution.”
I didn’t want to make him feel worse, but I had to be honest. “It’s not about how much they cost,” I said. “You’re not a wherryman. You won’t understand.”
“So make me understand.”
“I can’t.” I dug for the words I wanted. “To a captain, a ship is … more than just something that carries cargo from place to place. To someone who loves her, it don’t matter if she’s old. Or her decks aren’t tidy. Or her paint is chipped.”
I placed my palm flat against the warm deck. “When you see her, with her sails standing high against the sky, it’s like being punched in the chest. For a moment you can’t breathe. Her beauty strikes you that hard. You understand the life in her, and it calls out to you. That’s when you know you love a ship. That’s when she’s yours.”
“And that’s how you feel about Cormorant.”
“She’s not just a boat,” I said around the lump in my throat. “She’s my home. She’s everything.”
I spread my hand wide. I felt her every creak and movement. I felt her spirit, the little quirks that made her Cormorant. That made her ours and no one else’s.
“I would like to pay them, just the same,” Markos said. “Someday.”
Nemertes Water was dotted with ships. I sighted at least six wherries, a long topsail barge, and one seagoing bark, but there were also pleasure boats and fishing boats and all manner of small craft. Strangely, being on the open water felt safer and more dangerous at the same time. I could clearly see every ship up and down that blue stretch. None of them were Victorianos or Alektor, blessings in small things.
But I also felt naked. We were exposed on Nemertes Water. If the Black Dogs appeared, there was nowhere to hide.
“Are we close to Iantiporos?” Markos asked.
I pointed. “It’s on the other side of those cliffs. If we sailed a little farther to port, you’d be able to see the pillars of the senate building. It’s one of the wonders of the modern world.” Knowing how he disapproved of Kynthessa’s democratic government, I was surprised when he did not interrupt with a disapproving comment. “Beyond Iantiporos is the sea.”
“Can you take this boat onto the sea?”
“She does all right on the Neck. But on the open sea?” I shook my head. Wherrymen were superstitious about the ocean. It was not the realm of the river god. “Out there you need a deep keel. High rails. More canvas.”