Luckstones Read Online Free

clicked and clinked together. Her
voice was shaking too.
    Nault released Lydanne and launched himself, not at Amielle,
but at the necklace itself, in a movement fluid with rage. Amielle stepped
back, but not fast enough; Nault hit the rail with his hip, grabbing with both
hands at the necklace, For a moment that seemed very long, he stretched out
over the rail, his weight pulling on the thong. Lydanne reached for Nault to
pull him back, but it was too late; he fell over the rail, the wreath of stones
in his hands, and disappeared into the sea. Only one stone—the emerald earbob
by which Amielle had been holding the necklace—remained clutched in her hand.
    ~o0o~
    There was no question that, with Nault gone, Gorle ha
Deman was the most senior seaman on the ship. The pirates, including Lydanne,
looked to him for what they should do next.
    “Cap’n said head for Isl’Alander, zo I reckon that’s what we
do,” Gorle said at last. Amielle sat binding Lydanne’s wounds inexpertly, and
Lydanne, wincing and drinking ale, had returned her spectacles to her nose and
retied her newly-shortened hair. “Z’ for you, Lyd, I dunno. Ef only you wan’t a
woman—” He sounded as if it had simply been a bad choice on her part. “I dunno
what the Cap’n’ll say about Nault. It’s likely he’ll blame you, though, and I’d
not want to be in your shoes.”
    Lydanne nodded. “I had thought as much myself. Gorle, if I
take the skiff and bring the girl home—will you give me my share?”
    The pirate considered. He was not a man, Amielle thought,
much given to being in charge.
    “I spose you earnt it, din’t you? Even with being a woman. Go below and we’ll count out what’s yours. Oy,
Breggen: provision the skiff and get her ready to launch. It’ll be a week or
more before you reach Meviel.”
    ~o0o~
    They left the Plover without ceremony or farewells. If Lydanne regretted leaving the ship she did
not say so. Instead, settled into the skiff, she took bearings with a magnet
floated in a shell full of water, and began to row. For as long as it took for
the skiff to lose sight of the Plover Amielle
said nothing. But finally she could stand it no longer.
    “Lydanne?”
    “Hmm.”
    “I am sorry about Nault.”
    The pirate woman rowed on. “I am too, girl.”
    “I didn’t mean for him—I just didn’t want him to kill you.”
    “I know. Thank you.”
    That didn’t seem enough to Amielle. She thought for a few
minutes to the accompanying sound of the oars dipping slow and smooth.
    At last, “I don’t think he could have—I don’t think he would
have loved you.”
    Lydanne shook her head. “You’re right there.” One corner of
her mouth quirked up. “But I could have loved him, see.”
    Amielle thought about that, but it made no sense to her. The
pirate woman said nothing, but Amielle felt there was a good deal that could be
said, as she often did when dealing with adults. She had an idea.
    “Lydanne, would you like this? To remember—” Amielle offered
the emerald earbob in the palm of her hand.
    Lydanne stopped rowing and looked at the stone. “No, sweet.
I’ll remember well enough on my own. You keep it. Spoils of war.” She fixed her
gaze on the sea before them, the featureless horizon, and picked the oars up
again.

Writ of Exception
    “Don’t be stupid, girl. Marriage is for the consolidation
of wealth and property. Romance is for diversion. And love—” Deira do
Morbegon’s tone was derisive. “Love is for poets.”
    “Mamma, I know better than to speak of love and marriage in
the same breath. But this —even if I
liked it, what good would it bring? There can be no children—”
    “When our families are joined, one of you will get a child
from somewhere.” Madam do Morbegon shrugged as if children might be bought at
the Actenar bazaar. “You may take lovers now and then. Discreetly.” For a
moment Madam do Morbegon appeared to soften; she sat on the unmade bed beside
her daughter and her