Ship of Magic

Page 57

But then Kyle strode into their midst, announcing angrily, “Something's wrong. The peg won't go into the figurehead. ”

Everyone turned to stare at him. The impatient irritation in his voice was too much at odds with the pathetic body stretched on the deck before them. For a moment the silence held, then even Kyle had the grace to look abashed. He stood holding the silver-gray peg and glancing about as if his eyes could find nowhere to rest. Althea took a long shuddering breath, but before she could speak, she heard Brashen's voice, dripping sarcasm.

“Perhaps you do not know that only a blood-family member may quicken a liveship?”

It was as if he stood in an open field in a storm and called the lightning down on himself. Anger convulsed Kyle's face, and he went redder than Althea had ever seen him.

“What gives you the right to speak here, dog? I'll see you off this ship!”

“That you will,” Brashen affirmed calmly. “But not before I've done my last duty to my captain. He spoke clearly enough, for a dying man. 'Stand by her through this,' he said to me. I do not doubt that you heard him. And I shall. Give the peg to Althea. The quickening of the ship at least belongs to her. ”

He never knows when to shut up. That had always been her father's strongest criticism of his young first mate, but when he had said it, an awed admiration had always crept into his voice. Althea had never understood it before. Now she did. He stood there, ragged as any deckhand was at the end of a long voyage, and spoke back to the man who had commanded the ship and likely would again. He heard himself publicly dismissed, and did not even flinch. She knew Kyle would never concede to his demand; she did not even let her heart yearn for it. But in making that demand, he suddenly gave her a glimpse of what her father had seen in him.

Kyle stood glowering. His eyes went around the circle of mourners, but Althea knew he was just as aware of the outer circle of crew-members, and even of the folk who had come down to the docks to see a liveship quicken. In the end, he decided to ignore Brashen's words.

“Wintrow!” he commanded in a voice that snapped like a lash. “Take the peg and quicken the ship. ”

All eyes swung to the boy. His face blanched and his eyes became huge. His mouth shook and then he firmed his lips. He took a deep breath. “It is not my right. ”

He did not speak loudly, but his young voice carried well.

“Damn it, are you not as much Vestrit as Haven? It is your right, the ship shall be yours some day. Take the peg and quicken it. ”

The boy looked at him without comprehension. When he spoke, his voice teetered and then cracked high on the words. “I was given to be a priest of Sa. A priest can own nothing. ”

A vein began to pound in Kyle's temple. “Sa be damned. Your mother gave you, not I. And I hereby take you back. Now take this peg and quicken the ship!” As he spoke, he had stepped forward, to seize his eldest by the shoulder. The boy tried not to cower away from him, but his distress was plain. Even Keffria and Ronica looked shocked by Kyle's blasphemy, as well they might.

Althea's grief seemed to have stepped back from her, leaving her numbed but oddly sensitized. She watched these strangers who shouted and squabbled with one another while an unburied man slowly stiffened at their feet. A great clarity seemed to have come into her mind. She knew, with abrupt certainty, that Keffria had known nothing of Kyle's intentions regarding Wintrow. The boy obviously had not; the shock on his face was too great as he stood staring in confusion at the silky-gray peg his father thrust into his hands.

“Now!” Kyle commanded, and as if the boy were five instead of on the brink of manhood, he turned him and propelled him down the deck. The others drifted after him like wreckage bobbing in a ship's wake. Althea watched them go. Then she crouched down, to clasp in her own her father's cooling hand. “I am glad you are not here to see this,” she told him gently. She tried unsuccessfully, to close the lids of his staring eyes. After several attempts, she gave up and left him staring up at the canvas canopy.

“Althea. Get up. ”

“Why?” She did not even turn to Brashen's command.

“Because . . . ” He paused, fumbling, then went on, “because they can take the ownership of the ship from you, but that does not excuse you from what you owe the ship. Your father asked me to help you through this. He would not want the Vivacia to quicken and see only strangers' faces. ”

“Kyle will be there,” she said dully. The hurt was coming back. Brashen's blunt words had wakened it again.

“She will not know him. He is not the blood of her family. Come. ”