Niven nodded, settling against the pillow. “The pirates…the villagers were frightened of them and I did my best to broker quick trades with the hopes the ship would sail on without incident. But their captain—an odious man by the name of Gullich—decided that an Aluren adherent was a rare commodity. He wished to take me back to Isle Lillomet with thoughts of ransoming me to the Temple. I resisted but he threatened the villagers. I had no choice but to comply. I spent weeks in the hold, desperately seasick—no sailor, am I—and once a day did they let me out for air. Afternoons. I was taking my daily walk at the end of the bo’sun’s pistol when the other ship came upon us, hours before you found me.”
“Another ship.” Selena remembered the ship Whistle had spotted sailing into the Heart Waters. “More pirates? Rivals to those of the Seven Swords?”
“I can’t say for sure, but it’s likely,” Niven said. “Whoever they were, they frightened the scoundrels of the Seven Swords into a near panic. Frightened me too. I saw the ship. A dark, shadowy thing that brought the cold of the Deeps with it.”
“Not pirates then. A Bazira ship.”
“Aye, that may be true. But the ship didn’t get close enough for me to see anyone on board. It only…menaced the Seven Swords. Its crew was silent. Everything grew silent, even the sea.” He shivered. “It was unnatural. And the stench…As if the water around the ship was poisoned or polluted. A sickening smell. Then the merkind attacked.”
“By whose order?” Selena asked. “From the strange ship?”
Niven’s eyes dropped. “It all happened too fast. I was thrown into the hold and the panicked bo’sun shot me. It was an accident—not that it mattered much to him—and he left me there. I thought someone would come back and finish the job but no one did. After the battle, the same silence fell over the Seven Swords, only this time I was inside it.” His pale face turned ashen. “It was horrible. I called for help and even the sound of my own voice made my skin…”
“Itch?”
“Yes. It frightened me, but dying alone in the hold—for I knew by then that the crew of the Seven Swords was gone—frightened me more.”
“I can imagine.”
Niven’s eyes drifting closed. “The god rewarded me. It sent you.”
Selena patted his hand. “Rest. I’ve taxed you enough with so much talk.”
“Thank you.” He sighed. “Thank the god for you, Paladin…”
Selena climbed up the quarterdeck. One lantern, hung from the spanker boom, cast a soft yellow glow over the ship. Ilior was at the aft rail, watching the wake. He turned to regard her, scrutinizing. Satisfied she was unhurt, he turned back to watching for merkind pursuit.
“Well?” Captain Tergus demanded. “What’s his story? Is he truly one of your kind, or can I toss him overboard?”
“He’s no danger to us,” Selena said. “His appearance vouches for his story as much as his words. His tunic is threadbare and he’s weary in his heart and mind from all that’s he’s witnessed.”
“And what might that be?”
“He’s spent the last ten years healing the people of the Farendus Isles,” Selena said. “Ten years.”
Julian pressed his lips together. “Another mouth to feed,” he said after a moment. “Another drain on our fresh water. Unless you mean to drop him somewhere.”
“He’ll likely want to take passage back to Lillomet at our next port. You won’t suffer his presence too long, Captain.”
She started to retreat to the galley and Cook’s stove. The air was growing colder day by day. The night air now had a bite to it. She doubted anyone else had noticed it, but Selena felt the smallest deviations acutely. Julian stopped her with his voice.
“Stay ready,” he said.
She turned. “Why?”
“The danger’s not over yet. We may need your light magic.”
Selena peered at the wake behind them: black but bearded in white. “You think we’re being followed?”
“I don’t take chances.” He tapped his fingers on the wheel. “And neither should you.”
“Niven is not a danger, if that’s what you’re intimating. He’s Aluren. His story was one of humble courage and selflessness.”
“Selfless, aye.” Julian nodded. There was a short silence between them; Selena was about to leave as the conversation seemed over, then he said, “You see Cur down there? Tying up the staysails?”
Selena looked to the bow of the ship, at Cur: a shadowy shape on the bowsprit, made lean and hard by years of sailing. “I do.”
“I found him on the Farendus Isles too. During the war he’d worked—against his will—as a runner for the Zak’reth, delivering messages, foodstuffs, rum. The Zak’reth liked to use conquered folk for menial tasks. It was dangerous; mistakes meant death. Bloody Deeps, sometimes it didn’t even take a mistake. Zak’reth love to spill blood, as I’m sure you’re aware. Many a Farendii lost his life, simply because it amused some Zak’reth bastard to watch him…or her…die.”
“Their brutality is unmatched,” Selena said, her own memories, always on the cusp, ready to pounce.
“Aye,” Julian said. “Unmatched.”
Selena glanced up, wondering if he mocked her, but he went on, his voice low and toneless.
“But old Cur wasn’t just being the obedient lap dog they thought him to be. While he was running their little errands, he was also running secrets. To the Alliance. And when the Zak’reth caught him, they gave him a choice: to tell them who his contacts were,” Julian said, turning to look at her, “or eat his own tongue. I’m sure you can guess what he chose.”
Selena huddled deeper in her coat. “A brave man to choose the latter.”
“You think so? Selfless, eh?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Aye, it would have been. Selfless. Except he did no such thing.”
“I thought you said—”
“I lied,” the captain said. “I found Cur on a nameless shit-heap of an island, so drunk he couldn’t remember his own name. He’d been dicing with pirates and they accused him of cheating. Probably was. The old bastard tried to run away from half a dozen knives, stumbled, fell, and bit off his own tongue in his drunken stupor.”
Selena stared a moment, then shook her head, disgusted, and started for the ladder.
“Do you see the moral of my tale?” Julian called after. “Anyone can talk of selfless deeds. It’s the easiest bloody thing in the world.”
Selena stopped, turned and strode back the captain.
“I think it’s a great pity when a man has seen so much darkness that he can no longer tell the difference between fool’s fire and the dawn.”
Julian regarded her in silence, then drew out a cigarillo and lit it. The nub burned bright against the gloom. Ilior had turned to watch the exchange, the captain in particular.
“The war was hard on many of us,” Selena said. “Perhaps on you too, Captain Tergus. It was hard on me, for certain, but I’m grateful that I can still recognize something good when it’s right before my eyes.”
His expression remained blank, and he made no reply.
“Good night, Julian.”
In her cabin, Niven breathed deep and evenly, his mouth open, in an ecstasy of true, unguarded rest. Likely for the first time in weeks, if not longer. She covered him with the thin blanket, then unbuckled her sword and tucked it underneath her bunk. Then she kicked off her boots, and burrowed down into her own pillow, seeking the place where the cold couldn’t touch her. The god smiled on her that night, for she was asleep in moments and she did not dream.
The Other God