Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [302]
"Ah, well." She looked amused and rueful. "Given your experience, there's no guarantee that a proper ship would be any safer, just more comfortable. But this can't be worse than slogging through the wet season in Jebe-Barkal, can it?”
"I wouldn't be so sure," Joscelin murmured. "But it seems we'll find out.”
So it was decided.
We met with Lasko's cousin, Skovik. To my relief, he seemed a steady fellow with calm eyes and a drooping mustache that reminded me in a reassuring fashion of Captain Iosef, although he was considerably younger. Before we even began to haggle over the fee, he spoke to us in a straightforward, honest manner.
"This journey can be made," he said. "But you must understand it is dangerous. It is why only seasoned hunters sail in the winter. You are not seasoned hunters. On the boat, you must do exactly as I tell you, always. You must agree to this, or I cannot take you. Not for any price.”
Once we had agreed, which we did, then came the haggling. We had pooled our monies, all of us, and we had enough to meet Skovik's price with a bit to spare for the next leg of our journey. I served as translator, while Ti-Philippe drove the hardest bargain. We settled on a fee and agreed to meet on the morrow.
Whether or not that journey was more miserable than slogging through the rainy season in Jebe-Barkal was wholly a matter of opinion. When all was said and done, I didn't think it was. But unlike Joscelin, I'd never been prone to seasickness. And I'd been spent my childhood in the mountains of Siovale. I didn't mind the cold as much as Phèdre did.
And it was cold, no matter what the Vralians said.
Out on the open sea, there was no respite from it. We felt the wind cutting us before the boat was even launched, trudging across the broad expanse of ice while ponies dragged the boat alongside us.
Some yards from the edge, the ponies were unhitched. There were only two men serving as Skovik's crew; we would have to make up for the rest. The boat wasn't large enough to carry more. We took hold of the boat on its stern and sides and pushed, sliding it over the ice, which I prayed would hold us.
The ice held firm beneath our feet. The Vralian seal-hunters had a great deal of experience in gauging such matters. I grunted and pushed, the worn soles of my boots sliding. The boat grated over the ice and slid into the frigid water with a splash. Skovik's men grabbed barbed pikes and hooked the boat's railing with a practiced movement, securing it. It bobbed in the sea, looking little larger than a child's toy.
Skovik clambered aboard and beckoned. "Come.”
Joscelin went first, stepping deftly over the railing and into the boat, steadied by Skovik's hand on his arm. The boat dipped and wallowed under Joscelin's weight and his face took on a greenish tinge almost immediately. He swallowed and stood with one foot on the railing, hoisting Phèdre aboard by main force. She was shivering, no longer amused. The rest of us followed. Urist, who still needed a walking-stick and had a difficult time navigating the ice, was the hardest, but between the three of us, Hugues, Ti-Philippe, and I managed to wrestle him aboard, as well as all of our baggage.
I went last. We stowed our gear as best we could and arrayed ourselves along the narrow benches at Skovik's directive, ensuring the boat's balance; and then he gave an order to his men, and they stepped aboard with careless ease, using their barbed pikes to shove off.
A narrow strip of grey water opened between our boat and the shore. Skovik gave an order. His men obeyed with alacrity, raising the square sails. They caught the wind and bellied. The expanse of water between us and the icy shore grew wider. Skovik took the rudder. He glanced at the sky and gave a hard, fierce grin.
"Seems your gods are with you!" he shouted. "Wind's blowing from the north!”
"Blessed Elua be thanked." Huddling in the prow, Phèdre wrapped her arms around herself and sought to sink deeper into her fur-lined coat. "I think.”
It was by far and away the most perilous sea crossing