The Ruling Sea Read Online Free Page B

Kalli how are you how’s my one true love? Are there peaches in Etherhorde are you canning some for me? Have you fattened up a bit Kalli sure enough the men are courtin’ you now I’m away. Kalli you had best choose one and marry. Write me off won’t you sweetheart as I can’t see surviving, tell your dad tell your uncles tell the whole blary world what a great crew of monsters is Chathrand’s they seem like men but they’ll kill us like insects the Swarm’s to be set free Rin help us the SWARM
—
    The man in black grabbed the page and crushed it, then tossed it with a snarl through the open gunport. He looked accusingly at the thin man.
    “Satisfied?” he said.
    In the galley the morning chill was replaced by smoky warmth. The smells were intoxicating. All sailors dined like kings—the thin man had known that for years. The man in black made him lift the ladle and taste the breakfast gruel. It was glutinous and barely salted. It was manna from the gods.
    “And this,” said the man in black, “is the worst you shall ever taste again.”
    The thin man emptied the ladle with a slurp. Gruel on his lips, tears in his eyes.
    “It’s not fair,” he said.
    “But it is,” said his guide. “You help me, I help you.”
    They did not knock at the captain’s door: they pushed it open and stepped right in. Captain Rose stood before a dressing mirror, fastening his cuff links. He had combed out his great red beard, and a new dress coat hung on a stand beside him. His steward was in the aftercabin, polishing his shoes by the window.
    “So much room!” cried the thin man, spreading his arms and turning in a circle.
    The man in black looked contemptuously at Rose. “The fool. He’s loathed in these islands. He won’t be allowed anywhere near the wedding ceremony.”
    They looked on as Rose took something from his watch pocket. It was not a watch but the head of a woman, carved from a pale white stone. The captain put the head in his mouth, where it bulged between his cheek and gum.
    “A twisted man,” said the visitor in black.
    The thin man suddenly found his courage. He bolted across the cabin to the dining table and snatched at Rose’s breakfast with both hands. Orange slices. Kidney pie. Three round raw eggs the size of cherries. A boiled radish. A wedge of soda bread with butter, still warm from the stove.
    He ate everything before him, then sucked his fingers, and finally lifted the platter and swabbed it spotless with his tongue. Neither the captain nor the steward turned him a glance. He looked at the man in black with amazement.
    “I have just eaten Rose’s breakfast!”
    “Next time leave the eggshells. Go on—see what a captain’s bed feels like, while you’re at it.”
    The sheets were newly laundered; the pillow beneath his head brought back dim memories of fluff and mother’s warmth. There were books in a shelf built into the headboard. The man in spectacles reached behind his head and took one. He caressed the leather, then drew the volume reverently to his chest.
    I cannot give this up
, he thought.
    “Nor need you,” said the other, as if he had spoken aloud. “Well, then, do we have an agreement?”
    “I—You see, sir, there are obligations—”
    The man in black crossed the room in four strides.
    “Obligations?” he said venomously. “Only to me, henceforth. What obligations can your kind feel, save bestial urges?”
    “Please,” rasped the thin man, clutching the book even tighter. “Don’t misunderstand me. That is the horror of my life, being misunderstood.”
    “The horror of your life is what you are,” said the other. “You’re a freak, an abomination. I alone can change that. And all I ask in return is that you tell me what goes on in that stateroom. Thasha Isiq’s stateroom, the place I cannot see.”
    The thin man pinched his eyes shut and rubbed his hands quickly together, a spastic gesture of nerves. “But I am only dreaming this, dreaming you and these