Robert Redick - The Rats and the Ruling sea

'Thasha.'

She turned. Pazel had come up behind her, alone. Thasha glared a little. He had been so odd recently: one minute watching her with strange intensity, as if brooding on some great dilemma, the next downright rude. It had started before Dhola's Rib, but grown ever so much worse since their return from the island. What had happened to him there in the dark?

He had only said that he happened on Arunis, saw a chance to steal the Polylex, and took it. "Arunis never knew I was there. I got lucky, that's all." Thasha knew quite well that that was not all. The sibyl had shown something disturbing to each of them. What if Pazel's vision had been the worst? Yet what could be so much worse than watching your mother fall to her death? Besides, after several days, she had seen Pazel smiling, even laughing a bit, with Neeps and Marila. He had even wrestled with her dogs. It was only when Thasha herself drew near that he groused and snapped.

Thasha was angry, but she had made a firm decision to bear it with grace a while longer. She had told Pazel before anyone else about Ramachni's message in the onion-skin, hoping he'd see the gesture for what it was: a sign of her trust. Pazel had listened intently, hanging on every word, and gazing rather pathetically into her eyes. When she finished he shook himself, and his gaze hardened.

'You're still not reading the Polylex? What's the matter with you?'

'I don't know,' she'd answered, humbly enough. 'Something about that book makes my flesh crawl. Pazel, if you and I sat down together-'

'He didn't ask me to read it.'

'No, but I don't think he'd mind if you helped me.'

'So now you're second-guessing Ramachni, are you?'

That last remark had stung. For two days now they had barely spoken. That was the worst of it, she thought: how his sharpness always came when she tried to be open to him. And yet somehow he couldn't leave her alone.

'Well?' she demanded.

Pazel looked at her uncertainly. 'Heard you get up, that's all.'

He was a light sleeper; the slightest sound brought him wide awake. Then he would shift and toss or pace the outer stateroom for an hour or more. But lack of sleep alone could not explain his moods.

'You know,' she said, 'we're all proud of you for getting the Polylex away from Arunis. Oggosk talked about it all the way back to the ship. She said that Arunis would have found other ways to use the Nilstone, hidden in its pages, and that we'd never have found where he keeps it on the Chathrand. She says she underestimated you.'

'I'm… overjoyed,' said Pazel.

'When are you going to tell me how you really did it?'

Pazel raised a hand to his collarbone. He looked at Thasha warily. 'Never,' he said.

'What's the matter with your chest? Sore from our fighting lessons?'

He nodded.'Yes, rather.'

'That's the problem, isn't it?' she said. 'You're tired of the bruises. You want me and Hercol to quit knocking you around.'

Pazel looked surprised. 'I don't give a damn about that,' he said, 'and neither does Neeps. We've got to learn somehow.'

But Thasha knew she'd gotten close to the truth. Clearly unsettled, Pazel looked across the choppy sea. The whaling vessel had tacked in their direction, and even as Thasha watched her topgallants sheeted home. She was coming to greet them.

'Of course,' said Pazel, 'I'm not exactly a quick learner.'

Thasha hid her smile. Jealous idiot! He was comparing himself to Greysan Fulbreech. Thasha had told the older Simjan youth he must be a quick learner, just the day before, as he rattled off the medical topics he was studying under Chadfallow: salves, smelling salts, bone pins, leeches. Pazel had stood by, looking like he was being bled with leeches himself. But why should he compare himself to Fulbreech?

'Have you seen him?' asked Pazel suddenly.

'Greysan?' She shook her head. 'Not yet. Is he looking for me?'

Pazel nodded reluctantly. 'I told him I hadn't seen you anywhere, and — oh, here he comes now.'

Fulbreech was near the mainmast, a long stone's throw away, but she could already see his smile. Thasha couldn't help but smile in return — at times it seemed Fulbreech had been put on the ship just to beam in her direction. She did not feel guilty in the least for her friendliness towards him. It felt good to be smiled at, and she had some hope that Fulbreech might be recruited to their side. He had already mentioned quietly that the Sailing Code declared that men recruited through 'bald lies and distortions' were to be treated as kidnap victims, and that 'a kidnapped man cannot mutiny.' It was a brave statement, even if Fulbreech had said it mostly to impress her.

Pazel turned away. 'I'd better go wake up Neeps,' he murmered. 'You don't need me here.'

Thasha could have kicked him. As if he had a rival in Fulbreech! She had never kissed anyone but Pazel — and she had done it twice, for Rin's sake. True, that first kiss had been more to fool Arunis than to win his heart. But there had been nothing false about the second, later that night in the washroom. And both times his reaction had been to twitch and jump away, as if someone had just slapped him with a fish.

'Stay a minute,' she said. 'It won't kill you.'

Pazel sulked, but he stayed. Fulbreech waved to her, and she returned the gesture, seething inside. What do you expect me to do? Hate him?

Fulbreech had, after all, done just as Hercol had asked, and informed Eberzam Isiq that Thasha was alive. It was very nearly his last act in Simja, before Kruno Burnscove signed him onto the Chathrand. Fulbreech had told her the story in detail: how the old admiral had received him in the parlour of his new ambassadorial residence, still grateful that Fulbreech had arranged for his carriage after the ill-fated wedding ceremony. How he'd listened to Hercol's message, then begun to tremble until he spilled his tea. How he'd made Fulbreech repeat the words, tears of joy flowing down his cheeks: Your morning star has not set. Her light is hidden, not extinguished.

Then Fulbreech had paused in his storytelling and looked up at Thasha. 'As all stars hide at daybreak, no? Although a few make us wish the morning would never come.'

Probably that was when Pazel had begun to hate him. But Thasha had laughed and rolled her eyes. Fulbreech was out of line, of course — but he had said it so lightly, almost self-mockingly, that she hadn't even bothered to reprimand him.

'Lady Thasha,' he called out now, reaching them at last. 'I've made a tour of the ship, seeking you out — Mr Pathkendle had the idea you might be somewhere about the forecastle.'

Thasha threw Pazel a murderous glance. 'What can I do for you?' she asked Fulbreech.

'You have done it already,' he said, gazing into her eyes.

'Mr Fullbreech,' said Thasha, regarding him with Lorg School severity, 'I must forbid you to address me in that way.'

She was embarrassed, knowing Pazel would think she had asked him to stay in order to make him suffer, listening to Fulbreech's gallantries. The Simjan, for his part, realised that he had overstepped. 'I do ask your pardon, m'lady,' he said. 'I confess I am easily carried away.'

'That's a dangerous trait,' said Pazel. 'Had it all your life, have you?'

Fulbreech kept his eyes on Thasha. 'No,' he said. 'These past weeks, only.'

Thasha's smile threatened to resurface, so she trained the telescope on the whaler again. The ship had closed more than half the distance.

'Is that all you wanted to say, Mr Fulbreech?' she asked.

'Not quite, m'lady,' he replied. 'I woke this morning and recalled something else that happened on Treaty Day — a minor matter, perhaps. I worked straight through that night, running errands for King Oshiram. I had pledged to stay in the Royal Service through the day of your wedding, for His Highness was quite overwhelmed. And of course when Pacu Lapadolma took your place, the business of the crown was doubled: receptions, gifts, letters of congratulation-'