He did not specifically command that they be locked in. Wintrow clutched that omission to himself. He would have a few moments with his sister.

Liveship Traders 3 - Ship of Destiny

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO - An Ultimatum

ALTHEA WAS NOT GRACIOUS ABOUT LEAVING THE FOREDECK. SHE HAD SEEN the oncoming sails, and her fears for Vivacia battled with her hopes of Kennit’s defeat. Wintrow’s urgent pleas went unheeded until Vivacia herself turned to her. “Althea. Please go below. This might be my chance to strike a bargain with Kennit. It will be easier for me if you are not present.” Althea had scowled, but left the foredeck, Jek trailing after her.

Wintrow made a hasty side trip to the galley, to cobble together a large tray of food and drink. By the time he reached the cabin, Althea and Malta were already facing one another across the room. The Satrap had thrown himself onto the bunk and was staring at the wall. Jek sat morosely in the corner. Malta was furious. “I don’t understand why either of you would take his part. He pirated our liveship, killed her crew and holds my father captive.”

“You are not listening,” Althea said coldly. “I despise Kennit. All the assumptions you have made are false.”

Wintrow clashed the tray down onto the small table. “Eat and drink something. All of you. Then talk, one at a time.”

The Satrap rolled to look at the table. His eyes were red. Wintrow wondered if he had been weeping silently. His voice was choked with an emotion, possibly outrage. “Is this another of Kennit’s humiliations for me? I am expected to eat here, in these crowded circumstances, in the company of common folk?”

“Magnadon Satrap, it is no worse than sharing a table with pirates. Or eating alone in your room. Come. You must eat if you are to keep up your strength.”

Wintrow and Althea exchanged incredulous looks at Malta’s solicitous tone. Witnessing this, Wintrow felt suddenly uncomfortable. Were they lovers? His aunt’s admission had made all sorts of unthinkable things possible. “I’m going up on deck, to see what is happening. I’ll try to bring back word to you.” He hastened from the room.

The Jamaillian ships drew ever closer, spreading out as they came. Their obvious strategy was to bar his way south and surround him. The ships on the wings of the formation had picked up their speed. If he was going to flee, he must turn tail soon, before the Jamaillians could close their net. This was no time for talk, but the liveship spoke anyway.

“Kennit. You cannot question my loyalty to you. But my serpents grow weary. They need food and rest. More than anything else, they need me to lead them home soon.”

“Of course they do.” Kennit heard the haste in his own voice and tried to change his tone. “Believe me, sweet sea lady, your concerns are my own. We, you and I, shall see them safely home. I shall give you the time you have asked me to give you, that you may watch over them. Immediately after this.”

One of the smaller ships separated from the fleet and came on. No doubt, it would hail them soon. Kennit needed to be ready, not engaged in conversation. The opportunity for complete victory was as large as the danger of complete failure. If the serpents did not help him, his three ships stood small chance against such a fleet.

“What do you ask of us?” Vivacia asked wearily.

Kennit did not like the sound of that. He tried to change it. “We will ask them to subdue this fleet for us. It would take little effort from them. Their presence alone may be enough to persuade the ships to surrender. Once we show the Jamaillians that we have the Satrap, I suspect we’ll gain their full cooperation. Then the serpents would escort us as we journey to Jamaillia City, in a show of force. Once the Satrap and his nobles have conceded to the terms of our treaty, why then, we will be free to follow our hearts. I will summon every vessel at my command. We will protect and guide the serpents on their journey home.”

Vivacia’s face had grown graver as he spoke. Desperation came into her eyes as she slowly shook her head. “Kennit. Bolt in her rashness made you offers that we cannot keep. Forgive me, but it is so. The serpents do not have that sort of time. Their lives begin to dwindle within them. We must go soon. Tomorrow, if we can.”

“Tomorrow?” Kennit suddenly felt as if the deck were falling away from him. “Impossible. I would have to let the Satrap go, release him to his own ships, and then flee like a dog with its tail between its legs. Vivacia, it would destroy all we have worked for, just when our goal is within our grasp.”

“I could ask the serpents to help you this last time. After the fleet concedes to you, you could take the Satrap onto the Marietta. Have the Motley carry the word to Divvytown, and have it dispersed from there that all your ships are to join you on your journey south. That would be as impressive as weary and dying serpents.” She stopped the sarcasm that had crept into her voice. “Let Wintrow and Althea take me north, with my serpents. They could stay with me while I keep watch over the cocoons, freeing you to firm your kingship. I vow I would return to you by high summer, Kennit.”