The figurehead twisted back to look at her. His wide blue eyes shone with madness. He stared at her and a sudden silence fell. In one hand, he gripped a timber from the shattered ship. He lifted it high over his head, then flung it into the rigging of an approaching Jamaillian ship. He thrust his axe back into his harness. At last, he seized the battered hulk in both hands and pushed savagely free of it. The impetus aimed them toward the closing gap and thrust the wreckage into the path of two other ships. Suddenly unimpeded, his full sails sent him shooting forward. Swift as only a liveship was swift, he cut past the bow of a Jamaillian ship and into clear water.

Like a blessing from Sa, there was suddenly open ocean before them. Paragon poured himself into it. The wind sped them as they fled after Vivacia. On the deck, Kyle Haven’s blood pooled in standing puddles.

Liveship Traders 3 - Ship of Destiny

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX - Secrets

THEIR ESCAPE HAD FORCED THEM NORTH, THE WRONG DIRECTION FOR FLEEING to Divvytown.

The day was fading as Paragon caught up with the others. Vivacia moved swiftly and surely to the fore of their little group of vessels. Wintrow had clearly taken over command of the small pirate force. Althea was proud of him. It was a shame his father had never seen his son as Kennit had, she thought.

No one who had ever loved Kyle Haven would have to look at what had been done to him. Amber had silently helped her slide his body into the sea. Althea herself had wiped from Paragon’s deck the blood his wizardwood refused to absorb. She still did not know what she would tell Malta or Keffria. She knew what she would not tell them. She felt sick and bloated with ugly secrets.

Althea lifted her eyes and studied the ships critically. Vivacia led the way, sailing as only a liveship could. The Marietta, Sorcor’s trim little vessel, strove to keep pace with her. The battered Motley trailed them substantially. Last came Paragon. Althea could feel that he still mourned the serpent. Kennit was part of the ship now, and yet she could not deny her bond with him. A shiver, half shudder, ran up her.

Althea made her way aft to the wheel looking for Brashen. She was not ready to be near the figurehead yet. She excused herself that Etta stood on the foredeck, and undoubtedly wished to be alone. As she walked the deck, Amber emerged from the hatch, carrying a pannikin of stew. The smell of it sickened Althea. She could not recall when she had last eaten.

Semoy was on the wheel. He greeted her with a grin and a wink. “Knew we’d get you back,” he claimed. She clapped him on the shoulder in passing, surprised that his welcome should move her so. Wordlessly, Amber handed him the food. He gave the wheel to her and came to stand beside Althea. Between shoveled mouthfuls, he nodded aft. “They still aren’t giving up, are they?”

Behind them the Jamaillian ships had sorted themselves out from Paragon’s rampage. Some were giving chase. “I don’t think they dare,” Althea replied. “As long as we have the Satrap and he’s alive, they can’t give up. If he isn’t dead, all the rest of their plan falls to pieces. They lose everything.” She watched the enemy ships critically. “We’re right to flee. Some of those ships won’t last the night. I’ve seen the effects of serpent-spittle. What looks like sound canvas will soon split and shred. If we run, we can leave at least some of them behind. Then, when we must fight, we’ll face a smaller force.”

“An even better hope is that we may lose them in the night.” Brashen spoke behind them. “Even if we don’t, Wintrow has hostages now.” A shadow came over his face. “I don’t think he’ll hesitate to use them.”

“Hostages?” Althea asked as Brashen came to join them at the aft railing. His face was gray; he looked as if he had aged a year in a day. Still, he put his arm around Althea and pulled her close. She hooked an arm around his waist.

From his tone, she could not tell if Brashen approved or was horrified. “At the last possible moment, Wintrow pulled a dozen or so men off the Jamaillian ship. Nobles, by their clothing. They should be worth something as hostages. But we’re right to flee until we’re in a position to bargain. There are many places to hide in the Isles, and we follow three ships that know these waters well. We may escape death today.”

Semoy had finished his food. He thanked Amber and traded her the dish for the wheel. It seemed strange that such an ordinary exchange could occur on such a day. Peace seemed foreign to Althea now.

Brashen spoke suddenly, addressing Amber. “Ornamental?” he asked accusingly.

She shrugged, and there was wonder in her strange eyes. “I pegged the axe in place. I never dreamed he’d be able to take it out and use it.” She shook her head. “The more I know of it, the stranger stuff is wizardwood.”