Rising tide - Mel Odom [89]
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Back on deck with the sun setting out in the Sea of Swords, looking like a molten gold ball settling into the flat azure of the ocean, Jherek waited his turn in line at the community water barrel bolted into the railing. The man in front of him took out a large dipperful of fresh water and poured it over his own head, washing away some of the accumulated dried salt that had come from the sea breeze.
The men in line behind Jherek complained, some of them loudly.
Jherek didn't blame them. Fresh water when a ship got becalmed was worth its weight in gold. It wasn't meant to be wasted on a voyage.
The man took another dipperful and splashed it over his head again, ignoring the complaints. He was a big man, broad shouldered and heavy bellied, easily weighing a hundred pounds more than Jherek. He had shaggy black hair that fell below his shoulders, a full beard that reached to his chest, and enough body hair to make him look even more like an ape. Small daggers as long as a finger hung from earrings in both ears. He wore a cutlass in a sash and had two fingers missing from his left hand.
"Damn it, Aysel," someone growled, "back away from the water and stop wasting it."
Aysel muttered a curse and tossed the dipper back into the barrel. He ran his thick fingers through his wet hair and walked to the side.
Jherek took the small cloth from his kit, wet it in the barrel, then wrung it out and stepped away. Working carefully to conserve the water in the cloth, he washed the salt from his face, then worked on the rest of his body that had been exposed to the spray.
"You pay attention, Aysel," a harsh voice used to command barked.
Drawn to the voice, Jherek looked up to the forecastle. Captain Tynnel stood there, arms crossed over his chest. He was a short man of small stature, but Jherek had heard nothing but good of the man while he'd been aboard. His hair was the bleached blond of old bone and he had a hatchet head for a face beneath his plumed, tri-corner hat. His piercing blue eyes belonged on a falcon. He pointed at Jherek and said, "There's a man knows how to treasure water. I don't see you having some of that same respect, you're going to be a long time between ships when we reach Baldur's Gate. Understand my drift, sailor?"
"Aye, sir," Aysel responded with a clenched jaw. He shot Jherek a murderous glare then stomped off. Several of the sailors called out jeers behind his back.
"You," the captain said, pointing his bony chin at Jherek, "boy."
"Aye, sir."
"Come up. I'd have a word with you if I might."
"Aye, sir." Nervous, Jherek ascended the narrow stairs leading up to the forecastle.
"There's nothing to be worried about, boy," the captain said when Jherek stood before him. "Just wanted a word with you."
"Aye, sir."
"Sabyna's mentioned you to me today, the work you'd done, and the fact that she'd like to give you more of it till we reach Baldur's Gate. That would be acceptable to you?" "Aye, sir."
"I'll return some of the money you paid for your passage, but I won't be able to return it all. I've got a profit to make, investors to keep happy." "I understand, sir."
"I thought you might. Did she mention you might be able to find a berth on Breezerunner when we got to Baldur's Gate?" "Aye, sir."
"I guessed that she might. I told her I wanted to tell you myself. She's always been headstrong." Tynnel narrowed his eyes. "Where're you having eveningfeast tonight, boy?"
"With the lady, sir." "Lady?"
"Ship's Mage Sabyna, sir."
"I must admit, that doesn't entirely surprise me either. That girl's got a good head on her shoulders, but she's impulsive too. Makes her damn good at her job. Most of the time."
Jherek remained quiet, not knowing where the conversation was headed. A captain had the right to question his crew's behavior aboard ship.
"She comes from good stock," the captain said. "Her father's a ship's mage, and one of her brothers. Another's a ranger in the Moonshaes, all of them good people." He took out a pipe and filled it with pipeweed, then lit it with considerable effort. "She's been crewing