Water & Storm Country Read Online Free

I wasn’t his son and that
I hadn’t failed him yet again.
    And then the tip of the bilge rat’s rusty old
sword is at my throat and I can’t breathe and I’m looking up at him
and I’m scared of him doing it, but I’m even more scared that he
won’t and I’ll have to face my father’s head-shaking and
disappointment.
    The boy’s face is hard, and for a moment I
think he’ll do it, that he’ll kill me, but then he sighs and throws
down his sword, letting it clatter to the deck with a dull clang.
He stalks off and I close my eyes.
    There are murmurs from the crowd, whispered
words I can’t hear, and plenty of words that I wish I couldn’t
hear.
    “The admiral’s son…bah!”
    “Beaten by a bilge rat, what an
embarrassment!”
    “He’d be better off swimming with the
sharp-tooths if you ask me.”
    Each comment is like a slash to the heart,
cutting off another piece of me, ripping me open. Hot tears well up
beneath my eyelids, but I won’t open them, not for anyone or
anything. Won’t let the tears out where he can see them.
    “What a joke,” I hear Hobbs mutter before he
stomps away. There’s more scuffling feet and I know the crowd is
dispersing, going back to their morning work.
    “Huck,” a gentle voice says. A kind
voice.
    “Go away,” I say.
    “Open your eyes,” Cain says, more firmly this
time.
    “No. Leave me alone.”
    “Your father’s gone,” he says. “It’s just you
and me.”
    Great. Even worse. My father is so ashamed of
me he wanted to get as far away as possible. Me, a man? Ha! I’m not
even a boy, not even better than a bilge rat.
    I open my eyes, squint as a ray of sunlight
shoots between the billowing sails rising above me. Feel the warmth
of a tear creeping down my cheek, tickling my skin.
    Men don’t cry.
    I wipe it away with the back of my hand.
    Cain looks at me with eyes bluer than the
ocean. “I saw what happened,” he says.
    “Yeah, everyone did,” I mutter. “I got my ass
kicked.”
    “No,” he says, shaking his head. “You
could’ve won. You were the better swordsman, but when you almost
cut him, you freaked. You practically let him win after that.”
    “I almost killed him,” I whisper, as if
saying it any louder might take away the almost part,
leaving the brown boy lying bloody on the deck, my sword through
his gut.
    “True,” Cain says. “But you didn’t. You chose
defeat over ending a life. A brave choice.”
    It doesn’t feel very brave. Feels awful.
“Father will never make me a man now,” I say.
    Cain laughs and I frown. “He doesn’t have
much of a choice,” he says. “Plus, he’ll be itching to get you off
his ship as soon as possible now.”
    I glare at him. “Thanks for the
reminder.”
    I see movement over his shoulder, on the
shore, and I crane my neck to look around him. “What is it?” he
asks, turning to follow my gaze.
    Dozens of dark Riders spill onto the beach,
their black horses stamping and bucking, their swords gleaming in
the morning light. Watching us. Waiting. Almost like they’re hoping
we’ll come ashore and fight them.
     
    ~~~
     
    Because I’m the admiral’s son, turning
fourteen and becoming a man means leaving The Merman’s Daughter,
the ship I’ve grown up on, the ship I love, from its flowing white
sails to its polished decks to the songs of the sailors in the
morning, bellowed on the wind as they work. Songs of glory and
victory and bravery.
    Songs about people who aren’t me.
    The men are singing now, and their song is for me, but I clamp my hands over my ears and try to
block it out. I haven’t seen my father all day, which is fine by
me. Seeing him will bring me nothing but pain.
    My entire cabin rocks back and forth, as the
waves flow beneath the ship. I welcome the gentle, calming motion,
a source of normalcy in a place that’s feeling more and more
abnormal by the day.
    Maybe leaving is a good thing.
    Maybe all I need is a bit of change to become
a man.
    Maybe not.
    Blood in the water.