Page 267

‘W HAT HAVE YOU done with my father?’

Kennit looked up from the tray of food Wintrow had just placed before him.

The pirate was freshly attired, washed and combed.

That final effort had exhausted him. All he wanted right now was his food.

Etta’s flapping and whining about how worried she had been the whole time he was gone had been taxing enough.

After she’d laid out fresh clothing for him, he’d banished her from his room.

Nothing was more irritating to his nerves than someone fretting.

He would not tolerate that atmosphere for his dinner.

He ignored the lad. He picked up a spoon in his sore hand and stirred the soup before him.

Pieces of carrot and fish bobbed to the top.

‘I beg you. I have to know. What have you done with my father?’

Kennit looked at the boy, a sharp reply on the tip of his tongue, and relented.

Wintrow’s face was as pale as such a tanned and swarthy lad’s could be.

He stood very straight and still, as if composed.

The quickness of his breath and his teeth clenched on his lower lip betrayed him.

His dark eyes were haunted. He supposed the youngster felt bad, but one had to take responsibility for one’s choices.

‘I only did what you asked me to do. Your father is now somewhere else. You don’t have to worry about him, you don’t have to see him or contend with him.

’ Before Wintrow could ask, Kennit added, ‘He is safe. When I keep a promise, I don’t keep it halfway. ’

Wintrow rocked forward slightly. He looked as if he’d been punched in the belly. ‘I didn’t mean it,’ he said in a hoarse whisper. ‘Not like this, not just vanished away while I slept. Please, sir. Bring him back. I’ll take care of him and make no complaints.’

‘I’m afraid I can’t do that,’ Kennit pointed out affably.

He gave Wintrow a small smile to reassure him, but rebuked him gently with, ‘Next time, be sure you want what you ask for. I went to a great deal of trouble to arrange this for you.’ He took a spoonful of the soup.

He wanted to eat in peace. It was time to put an end to Wintrow’s impertinence.

‘I had expected you to be grateful, not remorseful. You asked for this. I’ve granted it.

That’s all there is to say about it. Pour me some wine. ’

Wintrow moved woodenly to obey him. Then he stepped back from the table and stood as if frozen, his eyes fixed on the wall.

Fine. Kennit put his attention on his food.

The exercise had given him a marvellous appetite.

His muscles ached and he planned to rest after his meal, but other than that, he felt keen-edged and competent.

This had been good for him. He’d have to get out and move about more, once Etta had padded his crutch and stump-cup for him.

He tried to decide if he could adapt his peg to allow him to climb the rigging again.

Even in miserable times, he’d loved going aloft.

The wind up there always seemed cleaner, and the possibilities of life as broad as the horizon.

‘There was blood all over your coat. And the side of the gig.’ Wintrow’s stubborn words broke into his reverie and his dining.

Kennit sighed and set his spoon down. Wintrow was still staring at the wall, but his rigidity suggested that he was trying to control shaking.

‘The blood was not your father’s. If you must know, it was Sa’Adar’s.

’ Sarcasm crept into his voice. ‘Please don’t tell me that you have revised your feelings about him as well. ’

‘You killed him because I hated him?’ There was panicky disbelief in Wintrow’s voice.

‘No. I killed him because he would not do as I wanted him to do. He really left me no choice. His death is no loss to you. The man had only contempt for you and your father.’ Kennit lifted his wine and drained off the glass.

He held it out to Wintrow. The youth moved as jerkily as a puppet as he refilled the glass.

‘And Ankle?’ he dared to ask in a sickened voice.

Kennit slammed his glass to the table. Wine leaped out and soiled the white cloth.

‘Ankle is fine. They are all fine. Sa’Adar is the only one I killed, and I only killed him because I had to.

I saved you the trouble of having to do it later for yourself.

Do I look so foolish as to waste my time on unnecessary actions?

I will not sit here and be badgered by a ship’s boy!

Clean up this mess, pour me fresh wine and then leave.

’ The look Kennit gave him had cowed many a larger man.

To the pirate’s surprise, it suddenly kindled an answering spark in the boy’s eyes.

Wintrow straightened himself. Kennit sensed he had pushed the boy across some sort of boundary.

Interesting. Wintrow advanced to the table and removed the food and the soiled cloth with a silent, savage efficiency.

He restored it, carefully poured more wine, then spoke.

He dared to let his anger sound in his voice.

‘Do not ever lay your deeds at my door. I do not kill people who inconvenience me. Sa gives life, and every life he forms has a meaning and a purpose. No man has the ability to understand fully Sa’s purpose.

Rather, I must learn to tolerate those others until they have lived to fulfil Sa’s purpose.

I am a part of his intention for this world, but my part is no more important than anyone else’s. ’

Kennit had leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms on his chest while Wintrow tidied the table and preached.

Now he sighed out through his nose. ‘That is because you are not destined to be a king.’ A thought occurred to Kennit and he could not control his smirk.

‘Meditate on this, priest. Perhaps I am one of those you must learn to tolerate until I can fulfil Sa’s purpose.

’ When the glower on Wintrow’s face only darkened at this jest, Kennit laughed aloud.

He shook his head. ‘You take yourself so seriously. Run along now. Go talk to the ship. I think you’ll find her course aligns closer with mine than yours just now.

I mean it. Run along. Send Etta to me on your way. ’

Kennit whisked his hand at the door. He turned his attention back to his interrupted meal.

The boy took his time about leaving and shut the door a bit loudly.

Kennit shook his head. He was getting too fond of Wintrow and allowing him too many liberties.

If Opal had taken that tone with him, he’d have worn stripes before sunset.

He shrugged at his own leniency. That had always been one of his faults.

He was too kind-hearted for his own good.

He shook his head to himself and let his thoughts wander back to Key Island.

‘Why didn’t you wake me?’ Wintrow demanded. His unresolved anger at Kennit still roiled within him.

‘I told you.’ Vivacia reacted stubbornly to his tone. ‘You were weary and deeply asleep. I did not see any harm in what he was doing. You could not have stopped him anyway. So I saw no sense in waking you.’

‘He must have come right up here to get Ankle. She was here when I fell asleep.’ A sudden suspicion jabbed him. ‘Did he tell you not to wake me?’

‘And if he did?’ Vivacia asked, affronted. ‘What difference would it make? It was still my decision.’

Wintrow looked down at his feet. The depth of his hurt surprised him. ‘Once you would have been more loyal to me. You would have wakened me, whether you thought it was wise or not. You must have known I would have wanted that.’

Vivacia turned her head and looked out across the water. ‘I fail to see your point.’

‘You even sound like him,’ Wintrow said miserably.

His unhappiness spurred her more than his anger had. ‘What do you want me to say? That I am sorry Kyle Haven is gone? I am not. I have not known a moment of peace since he took command. I am glad that he is gone, Wintrow. Glad. And you should be glad, too.’

He was. That was the rub. Once she would have known that, but now she was so taken with the pirate, she considered only Kennit’s view. ‘Do you need me any more?’ he asked her abruptly.

‘What?’ It was her turn to be shocked. ‘Why ask such a thing? Of course, I need…’

‘Because I thought that if you were happy with Kennit, perhaps he’d let me go.

Both of you could just put me ashore on the mainland.

I could make my own way back to the monastery and my life.

I could put all this behind me, as something I couldn’t change anyway.

’ He paused. ‘You’d be rid of me as well, just as you are rid of my father. ’

‘You sound like a jealous child,’ she retorted.

‘You haven’t answered my question.’

In that moment, she did. She opened herself to him, and he felt her pain at his hard words.

‘Oh,’ Wintrow said softly. That was all.

His gaze followed hers. The Marietta rocked at anchor so close by that Wintrow could see the face of the man on watch.

Sorcor had not been pleased when an anxious Brig had sent to ask if he had word of the captain.

The new, closer position of the other ship reflected his renewed watchfulness.

She cut to the heart of the squabble. ‘Why are you jealous that I care for Kennit? You would do away with the bond you and I share, if you could. He is the opposite. He strives so earnestly to build a tie between us. He speaks to me as no one else ever has. He comes up here, while you are off and about your tasks, and he tells me stories. Not just tales from his life, but folk-tales, and stories he has heard from other people. And he listens to me when I speak. He asks me what I think, and what I would like to do. He tells me his plans for his kingdom and the people he will rule. When I make a suggestion, he is pleased. Have you any idea how nice that is, to have someone tell you things and listen in return to what you say?’