Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [160]
Tanis heard Caramon chuckle, and felt his skin burn.
They were on board the Perechon, sitting in the captain’s cabin, across from the captain herself. Maquesta Kar-thon was one of the dark-skinned race living in Northern Ergoth. Her people had been sailors for centuries and, it was popularly believed, could speak the languages of seabirds and dolphins. Tanis found himself thinking of Theros Ironfeld as he looked at Maquesta. The woman’s skin was shining black, her hair tightly curled and bound with a gold band around her forehead. Her eyes were brown and shining as her skin. But there was the glint of steel from the dagger at her belt, and the glint of steel in her eyes.
“We’re here to discuss business, Captain Maque—” Tanis stumbled over the strange name.
“Sure you are,” the woman said. “And call me Maq. Easier for both of us. It’s well you have this letter from Pig-faced William, or I wouldn’t have even talked to you. But he says you’re square and your money’s good, so I’ll listen. Now, where’re you bound?”
Tanis exchanged glances with Caramon. That was the question. Besides, he wasn’t certain he wanted either of their destinations known. Palanthas was the capital city of Solamnia, while Sancrist was a well-known haven of the Knights.
“Oh, for the love of—” Maq snapped, seeing them hesitate. Her eyes flared. Removing her foot from the table, she stared at them grimly. “You either trust me or you don’t!”
“Should we?” Tanis asked bluntly.
Maq raised an eyebrow. “How much money do you have?”
“Enough,” Tanis said. “Let’s just say that we want to go north, around the Cape of Nordmaar. If, at that point, we still find each other’s company agreeable, we’ll go on. If not, we’ll pay you off, and you put us in a safe harbor.”
“Kalaman,” said Maq, settling back. She seemed amused. “That’s a safe harbor. As safe as any these days. Half your money now. Half at Kalaman. Any farther is negotiable.”
“Safe delivery to Kalaman,” Tanis amended.
“Who can promise?” Maq shrugged. “It’s a rough time of year to travel by sea.” She rose languidly, stretching like a cat. Caramon, standing up quickly, stared at her admiringly.
“It’s a deal,” she said. “Come on. I’ll show you the ship.”
Maq led them onto the deck. The ship seemed fit and trim as far as Tanis, who knew nothing about ships, could tell. Her voice and manner had been cold when they first talked to her, but when she showed them around her ship, she seemed to warm up. Tanis had seen the same expression, heard the same warm tones Maq used in talking about her ship that Tika used when talking about Caramon. The Perechon was obviously Maq’s only love.
The ship was quiet, empty. Her crew was ashore, along with her first mate, Maq explained. The only other person Tanis saw on board was a man sitting by himself, mending a sail. The man looked up as they passed, and Tanis saw his eyes widen in alarm at the sight of the dragon armor.
“Nocesta, Berem,” Maq said to him soothingly as they passed. She made a slashing motion with her hand, gesturing to Tanis and Caramon. “Nocesta. Customers. Money.”
The man nodded and went back to his work.
“Who is he?” Tanis asked Maq in a low voice as they walked toward her cabin once more to conclude their business.
“Who? Berem?” she asked, glancing around. “He’s the helmsman. Don’t know much about him. He came around a few months back, looking for work. Took him on as a deck-swab. Then my helmsman was killed in a small altercation with—well, never mind. But this fellow turned out to be a damn good hand at the wheel, better than the first, in fact. He’s an odd one, though. A mute. Never speaks. Never goes ashore, if he can help it. Wrote his name down for me in the ship’s book, or I wouldn’t have known that much about him. Why?” she asked, noticing Tanis studying the man intently.
Berem was tall, well-built. At first sight, one might guess him to be middle-aged, by human terms. His hair was