Rising tide - Mel Odom [87]
She wore her copper colored hair short, hardly any longer than his. Her skin was browned from the sea and sun, but freckles stippled the bridge of her short nose. Her eyes were reddish brown, wide and full. She seemed friendly and liked to smile. Her mouth was generous and full-lipped, and he'd yet to see a displeased look on her face. From her position in the crew, he guessed that she was a few years older than he was. In the three days he'd been aboard Breezerunner, he'd never talked to her.
Jherek nodded. He couldn't think of much harder work either, which was why he'd chosen it. Perspiration covered him and the leather straps chaffed at him. He'd stripped down to knee-length breeches and a short-sleeved blouse. Both were drenched from the slight sea spray and sweat. Neither improved the way he smelled. "I'm not used to being a passenger."
"You're a sailor?" she asked.
"Aye." He took time to inspect the barnacle spade's edge again. He'd found that he liked looking at the ship's mage, but after the experience with the Amnians aboard Butterfly he'd taken pains not to allow himself too many glances in her direction. Still, staying in his cabin hadn't been an answer he could live with. When he'd seen the ship's crew ordered to scrape barnacles from the hull that morning he'd gone to the ship's mate, volunteered, and been grudgingly allowed. The mate had thought him deranged for even asking, even more so when he'd actually shown up for the work detail.
"Where's your ship?" she asked.
He glanced up at her, shading his eyes with his free hand as the sun came over the bow when Breezerunner dipped into the water, and said, "In Umberlee's arms." He hated telling the lie, but there was nothing else to do.
"You crewed aboard Silver Dassel!”
"Aye." The lie went against Jherek's nature. It felt like a wedge between them. He'd never forget he'd lied to her. Telling her the truth, though, was out of the question. Silver Dassel had gone down nearly a tenday ago, pulled down by a sahuagin raiding party not far from where Butterfly had been attacked.
"I'm sorry," she said. "It must have been hard."
Jherek let his silence be his only answer. Most of Silver Dassel's crew, including her captain, old Vinagir, hadn't come back. Many of the rest had scattered, trying to find new ships that would take them.
"I didn't know you were working on the hull till this afternoon when I did my inspection," she told him. "When Creil told me you'd volunteered for this and had booked a passage, I had to come see for myself."
Jherek smiled at her and shrugged. "I'm sure you've seen barnacles scraped off a hull before, lady." He studied the clean wood he'd left behind and said, "Unless I'm doing something wrong."
"Call me Sabyna. I'm no high-born to be flattered with titles."
"All right," he agreed, but the familiarity didn't feel comfortable to Jherek.
"The job you're doing," Sabyna said, "is probably better than any of the crew that Creil put together." She passed down a capped jar full of water at the end of a net pole.
"Thank you, lady." He drank the water, tasting the cool clean of it, then sent the jar back up.
She leaned her elbows on the railing and gazed down at him. She wore a long-sleeved dark green blouse tucked into loose-legged white breeches that showed off her womanly figure, and knee-high black leather boots that matched the wide black leather belt that supported a small bag and a brace of throwing knives.
"There's more work to be done about this ship if you've a mind," she said.
"Aye. I'd like that very much."
"Captain Tynnel says you're bound for Baldur's Gate."
"Aye."
"Hoping to find another ship there?"
"If I can."
She raised an eyebrow. "Impress the captain during the rest of the journey as you already have, maybe you'll find a berth here by the time you reach Baldur's Gate."
Jherek nodded. He didn't think a berth on Breezerunner had been what Madame litaar had in mind, but he felt stubborn about what he was supposed