Robin Hobb - The Mad Ship

‘For a time, Brashen was around town, staying wherever he could, but he soon wore out his welcome and ran out of money. He got a reputation for leading younger boys into trouble and wild ways.’ Grag grinned knowingly. ‘Both I and my younger brother were forbidden to associate with him. Soon no one wanted to be connected with him. Then he disappeared. No one knew what became of him.’ Grag made a wry face. ‘Not that anyone much cared. He left many debts behind him. By then folk knew he did not intend to pay them off. So he was gone. Most people felt Bingtown was a better place without him.’ Grag looked aside from her. ‘After he left, there was a rumour that a Three Ships girl was carrying his child. The baby was stillborn; a mercy, I suppose. The girl was still ruined.’

Althea felt faintly ill. She hated to hear Grag so disparage Brashen. She wanted to deny what he said of the man, but he obviously spoke with an insider’s knowledge of the truth. Brashen had not been an ill-used, misjudged youth. He had been a spoiled eldest son without discipline or morals. Her father had taken him on years later and under her father’s control, he had become a decent man. Without her father, he had reverted. She had to admit to herself that was true. The drunkenness, the cindin. The whoring around, she added harshly to herself.

Ruthlessly she stripped the truth of her foolish embroideries. She had been pretending he had been infatuated with her when he bedded her. The truth was that she had been behaving like a slut and she’d found the partner she deserved. To prove it to herself, all she had to do was think about how they had parted. The moment he realized that she had come to her senses and was not going to allow him her body, he had turned against her. Shame flooded her. How could she have been so stupid and foolish? If he ever returned to Bingtown and spoke of what they had done, she would be ruined, just like the Three Ships girl that he had left in his wake.

Grag was unaware of her discomfort. He had crouched down by a chest at the foot of his bed and was rummaging inside it. ‘I’m ravenous. Since I have this supposed toothache, Cook has only been bringing me soup and bread to sop in it. Would you care for some dried fruit? Jamaillian apricots or dates?’

‘I’ve no appetite. Thank you.’

Grag stopped his rummaging and swivelled to face her with a grin. ‘Now that’s the first time you’ve sounded like a proper Bingtown Trader’s daughter since you came aboard. I don’t know whether I’m relieved or disappointed.’

Althea wasn’t sure if she was flattered or insulted. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Oh. Well.’ He brought the package of fruit out and sat down on his bunk with it. He patted the place beside him and she sat down. ‘There. You see,’ he exclaimed triumphantly. ‘Not only are we alone and unchaperoned, behind a closed door, but you fearlessly sit down on my bed beside me. When I told you Brashen left a woman pregnant, you do not go pale or rebuke me for speaking of such things. You look thoughtful.’ He shook his head, bemused.

‘You wear your hair sensibly on deck, I’ve seen you wipe your hands down your shirt front, and you went barefoot and trousered the whole time you were pretending to be a ship’s boy. Yet I can still remember a very feminine woman in my arms, perfumed like violets, and dancing as gracefully as…well, as gracefully as you scamper up the rigging. How do you do it, Althea?’ He leaned back against the bulkhead, but the way he looked at her seemed to bring him closer to her. ‘How do you move so easily in both worlds? Where do you really belong?’

‘Why must it be one or the other?’ she countered. ‘You are both a capable seaman and the son of a Bingtown Trader. Why should not I have both sets of skills?’

He threw his head back and laughed. ‘There. That is not the answer one would expect from a Trader’s daughter, either. At least, not one of our generation. A proper girl would be simpering over my compliment to her dancing, not asserting her ability to be a good sailor. You remind me of the tales Ophelia tells. According to her, there was a time when the women worked right alongside the men, in every trade, and sometimes excelled them.’

‘Anyone who knows the history of Bingtown knows that when our ancestors came to the Cursed Shores, each one had to scrabble for a living. You know that as well as I do.’ She felt a bit annoyed with him. Did he think she was improper?

‘I know it,’ he admitted quietly. ‘But there are a lot of women in Bingtown who would no longer admit that.’

‘Mostly because it is no longer fashionable. And mostly because their fathers or brothers would be ashamed of them if they did.’

‘True. However, watching you, I have come to see that they are false, not just to history but to life. Althea. Of late, my parents have been urging me to seek a wife. I was born late in their lives; they’d like to see grandchildren before they are too old to enjoy them.’

Althea listened in stunned silence. His sudden words shocked her. He could not be taking this conversation in that direction, could he?

‘When I’m in Bingtown, my mother invites Trader daughters and their mothers over to endless teas. I’ve obediently attended the gatherings and balls. I’ve danced with a few women,’ here he smiled at her warmly. ‘Several have seemed interested in me. Nevertheless, all the courtships I have begun have ended in disappointment. Always the same thing. My father looks at the woman I am seeing and asks me, “Will she be able to take care of herself and a household and children, while you are off sailing?” Then I look at her with that in mind, and no matter how lovely or witty or charming she is, she never seems strong enough.’

‘Maybe you are not giving the women a chance to prove themselves to you,’ Althea ventured.

Grag shook his head regretfully. ‘No. Two of them I asked directly. I reminded them that I expected to be someday the captain of the liveship Ophelia. How would it be, I asked, to know you must share me with a ship? A demanding and sometimes possessive ship, I added, to be honest. I reminded them I would be gone months at a time. That I might not be home when my children were born, or when the roof sprang a leak or harvest season came around.’ He shrugged eloquently. ‘One and all, they told me that surely I could arrange to be home more after we were married. When I said I could not, they refused my suit. Genver went so far as to come aboard the Ophelia, and suggest that she could sail with me after we were married, if I could triple the size of the captain’s room. But only until we had children. Then I would have to somehow arrange my life to be home more often than not.’

‘Did not you court anyone who was born into a liveship family? A girl who would understand what your ship meant to you?’

‘I danced with one once,’ he said quietly.

The silence held. If he expected her to say something, Althea had no idea what. Grag moved very slowly, as if he were afraid she would startle. With one finger, he touched her hand where it rested on the bed. A small touch, but it sent a shiver up her arm even as dismay filled her heart. She liked Grag and found him attractive, but this was no time for either of them to act on that. Had she invited this? How should she deal with it? Was he going to try to kiss her? If he did, would she let him?

She suspected she would.

Grag came no closer. His voice went deeper and softer. His blue eyes were gentle and confiding. ‘In you, I see a strong woman. One who could sail with me, or capably manage things ashore while I was gone. I see someone who is not jealous of Ophelia.’ He paused and smiled ruefully. ‘If anything, I am a bit jealous of how quickly she has become fond of you. Althea, I cannot imagine a better choice for a wife than you.’