The Shattered Islands: Part One: The Rakam Read Online Free Page A
Author: Karpov Kinrade
the boldest lie ye've told so far. Come on, play along for just one night."
I hold eyes with her for a moment, and a genuine smile crosses my lips. "Fair enough." I lean in conspiratorially, whispering. "I really, really, really hate roasted rakam. Anything made of rakam makes me sick."
I lean back against my chair and she swats at my arm, but she laughs, as I'd hoped. "Truth?" she asks.
I hold three fingers over my heart. "Goddess sworn," I say. "Now your turn."
She nods, and her eyes take on a faraway look, her smile lost to something sadder. "I always wished I'd been born a man," she says after a moment.
I raise an eyebrow in honest surprise. "Why? Women have all the power on the islands."
She shakes her head. "That power, yes, it's real. It's there, but it's also its own prison, too. Men get to set sail their whole lives, without worry of child birth and rulership. We have the power, but not the freedom."
"Men don't have freedom to stay," I remind her. "They are expendable, useful for hunting, for trading, maybe for leading crews, but they cannot choose their woman, claim and raise their own children, choose the life of their own desires."
She tilts her cup into her mouth and swallows what's left of her swill. "Ye speak truth. I suppose we are all trapped in our cages, some are just more gilded than others."
She stands then, her smile back. "I still have time, before I'm called back to bear children and take my place in society. I will make every moment count." She leans in, her breasts close to my face. "Ye should do the same."
She saunters away, her offer unspoken as she walks back to the great table at the middle of the shell, joining Clam and Garen in a game of Shells and Stones. Though I have always rejected her advances, she has never acted bitter, never cruel or spiteful. She even treats Clam well, though no one else does. Hers is a kind soul, one that, if things had been different, I could find happiness with. But there is another girl in my dreams, and her voice is the one I heed tonight.
Hours pass, and as the maiden moon begins to fade, Han'Ruu begins a game of Shells and Stones with a few of his men. I walk over to his side at the head of the great table. "May I join you?" I ask.
"Of course, brother. Of course. Sit down, have more wine." He snaps his fingers and the girl with the blue eyes refills my cup. I look at her, but she does not look at me as she finishes her duties and steps back behind Han'Ruu's chair.
"What shall we bet tonight, brothers?" asks Han'Ruu.
Mal'Ruu throws a dozen stones on the table and Tel'Ruu tosses an iron ring into the pile. I unfurl my bundle of kelp and lay a gleaming sword before them.
Their eyes grow wide. Their mouths curl in greedy smiles. The blade is carved from a pale blue rakam head. The guard and grip are forged from precious steel. But it is the pommel that draws their gaze. There, under the silver moonlight, glitters a deep blue sapphire.
Han'Ruu speaks softly. "What would you have me wager?"
I think it over, my eyes flashing to the girl. "Her," I say.
"But she is—"
"She is a slave, is she not?"
The captain's smile fades. Tel'Ruu watches us, his hand sliding below the table. I pay him little mind as I lock eyes with Han'Ruu, my words firm. "I will have her, and nothing else for this sword."
He looks to his men, then smiles. "Very well. Let us begin."
Tel'Ruu hands each of us a cup filled with three stones and three shells. No one else plays, for it is clear no one else has anything to match my wager. Han'Ruu and I shake our cups and place them face down upon the black table. I peek under my cup, counting the amount of shells with the ridges up and the stones showing three lines. Han'Ruu does the same. We both proclaim our points. We do not have to be honest.
"Two shells, two stones," says Han'Ruu. Tel'Ruu records four points, then a bonus two for the pair, writing with charcoal on a stone slate.
I shrug. "Three shells, one stone."
At this
I hold eyes with her for a moment, and a genuine smile crosses my lips. "Fair enough." I lean in conspiratorially, whispering. "I really, really, really hate roasted rakam. Anything made of rakam makes me sick."
I lean back against my chair and she swats at my arm, but she laughs, as I'd hoped. "Truth?" she asks.
I hold three fingers over my heart. "Goddess sworn," I say. "Now your turn."
She nods, and her eyes take on a faraway look, her smile lost to something sadder. "I always wished I'd been born a man," she says after a moment.
I raise an eyebrow in honest surprise. "Why? Women have all the power on the islands."
She shakes her head. "That power, yes, it's real. It's there, but it's also its own prison, too. Men get to set sail their whole lives, without worry of child birth and rulership. We have the power, but not the freedom."
"Men don't have freedom to stay," I remind her. "They are expendable, useful for hunting, for trading, maybe for leading crews, but they cannot choose their woman, claim and raise their own children, choose the life of their own desires."
She tilts her cup into her mouth and swallows what's left of her swill. "Ye speak truth. I suppose we are all trapped in our cages, some are just more gilded than others."
She stands then, her smile back. "I still have time, before I'm called back to bear children and take my place in society. I will make every moment count." She leans in, her breasts close to my face. "Ye should do the same."
She saunters away, her offer unspoken as she walks back to the great table at the middle of the shell, joining Clam and Garen in a game of Shells and Stones. Though I have always rejected her advances, she has never acted bitter, never cruel or spiteful. She even treats Clam well, though no one else does. Hers is a kind soul, one that, if things had been different, I could find happiness with. But there is another girl in my dreams, and her voice is the one I heed tonight.
Hours pass, and as the maiden moon begins to fade, Han'Ruu begins a game of Shells and Stones with a few of his men. I walk over to his side at the head of the great table. "May I join you?" I ask.
"Of course, brother. Of course. Sit down, have more wine." He snaps his fingers and the girl with the blue eyes refills my cup. I look at her, but she does not look at me as she finishes her duties and steps back behind Han'Ruu's chair.
"What shall we bet tonight, brothers?" asks Han'Ruu.
Mal'Ruu throws a dozen stones on the table and Tel'Ruu tosses an iron ring into the pile. I unfurl my bundle of kelp and lay a gleaming sword before them.
Their eyes grow wide. Their mouths curl in greedy smiles. The blade is carved from a pale blue rakam head. The guard and grip are forged from precious steel. But it is the pommel that draws their gaze. There, under the silver moonlight, glitters a deep blue sapphire.
Han'Ruu speaks softly. "What would you have me wager?"
I think it over, my eyes flashing to the girl. "Her," I say.
"But she is—"
"She is a slave, is she not?"
The captain's smile fades. Tel'Ruu watches us, his hand sliding below the table. I pay him little mind as I lock eyes with Han'Ruu, my words firm. "I will have her, and nothing else for this sword."
He looks to his men, then smiles. "Very well. Let us begin."
Tel'Ruu hands each of us a cup filled with three stones and three shells. No one else plays, for it is clear no one else has anything to match my wager. Han'Ruu and I shake our cups and place them face down upon the black table. I peek under my cup, counting the amount of shells with the ridges up and the stones showing three lines. Han'Ruu does the same. We both proclaim our points. We do not have to be honest.
"Two shells, two stones," says Han'Ruu. Tel'Ruu records four points, then a bonus two for the pair, writing with charcoal on a stone slate.
I shrug. "Three shells, one stone."
At this
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