Chaos Space - Marianne de Pierres [113]
Trin was stunned for a moment. ‘How do you know this?’
‘Baronessa Fedor spoke of it. She wanted your madre to know.’
‘How kind of the Baronessa,’ he said softly. ‘And did you pass this news to the Principessa?’
The girl bowed her head. ‘I-I have not. It seemed—’
‘How did it seem, Tina?’ Trin urged.
‘I was not sure if it was true. The Baronessa was distraught. Not in a calm mind.’ The servant trembled, fearing that she had given offence.
Trin put a comforting, collusive hand on her shoulder. ‘You must not speak of this to anyone, Tina. Mira Fedor deserted us and escaped with the mercenaries. It has caused much upset among those who are left.’
Tina Galiotto’s face registered shock. ‘But I thought that the Baronessa had left to bring help for our world.’
‘No!’ said Trinder quickly, barely controlling his impulse to shake the girl. ‘That is not so, Tina Galiotto, and do not let me catch you speaking of such things.’
‘Si, Principe.’ She bowed her head. ‘Si.’
Trin returned to the beach after he had fashioned day-hollows for Jilda and himself, leaving her to be tended by her servant. Djeserit had left them only a small amount of fish and Juno Genarro had taken help to search the lightening shoreline for weed and edible sponges. Trin could see the group now, bent to their task, shaking sand from weed and piling it into makeshift slings.
A small group lingered around Joe Scali as he fussed over the tiny desalinator that Djeserit had brought from the Palazzo. Lack of fresh water was their biggest single fear. If the desalinator broke they would perish.
Trin turned his gaze back the way they had come. The islands were like dark stones on the lighter sea and behind them was the long, unending shadow of the mainland. How he longed for the taste of cooked meat and the mellow flavour of Araldisian wine on his palate. They were simple cravings but profound and they brought with them a surge of disproportionate rage. How long could they keep up this ridiculous flight of bare survival? And Djeserit—she could not continue the gruelling duty of providing food for so many.
He kicked out angrily against the gently slapping water, repeating the action until his legs shook with fatigue and the pain of fury weighed deeply in his chest.
Trin threw himself down then, his face barely clear of the water, his hands gripping deep into the sand against the pull of the tide. It would be easy to drift out of his depth. It would not take long to drown—like all the Ciprianos he was a poor swimmer. Perhaps he should have left with Mira Fedor and taken his child to another place.
‘Trinder?’
Djeserit was there, surfacing alongside him, blowing a gentle exhalation spray from her gills.
Trin rolled on his side to face her. ‘How did you know?’ he said hoarsely. ‘How did you know that I needed you?’
She gave a low chuckle, a sound rusty from lack of use. ‘I heard you, Principe. You cannot thump at the water in such a way without deafening us.’
Us? The word caught in his chest. ‘You have been avoiding me.’
Djes buckled onto her knees and cupped Trin’s face in her hands with her thick webbed fingers. Her face was changing, her skin glistening like that of the fish she pulled fresh from the sea for them to eat.
‘Not avoiding you. I’ve been exploring as far ahead as I could and I’ve got news. There are two islands between us and a deep channel. On the other side of the channel there’s a bigger place where I think we can stay—high cliffs and