Rising tide - Mel Odom [92]
The young sailor shrugged. Sabyna noted the dark circles under his eyes and felt bad for keeping him up so late when he'd obviously been worn out by his previous journey. She knew that wasn't right. He looked healthy, not worn down, so whatever strain he was under was mental, not physical.
Still, she wasn't ready to part company with him yet. "My mother kept after my three brothers and me to study our lessons," she told him. "When we were young, we looked on ship's chores as great fun. It wasn't until we were older that we learned we were supposed to resent work like that."
He laughed and she decided she liked the sound of it. His laugh was low and gentle, like it was something he wasn't used to doing.
"In ports where we traded, some folk made comment that a ship was a small place for children to grow up- dangerous even-but we had the sea, wide and deep and beautiful, filled with wondrous things, and no reason to fear it or anything in it till my brother Dannin was killed in a pirate raid fourteen years ago."
He nodded, suddenly somber for no reason that she could explain.
"I'm sorry for your loss," he said.
Despite all the years that had passed, Dannin's death still hurt. Tears brimmed in her eyes, feeling hot against the cool breeze drifting in from the sea. She got angry at herself momentarily for the loss of control, but there was something about the young sailor that reminded her of her lost brother. Dannin had barely been sixteen, younger than either of them now. She remembered and missed her brother's smile most of all. Dannin was always the most easygoing of her siblings.
The look in Jherek's pale eyes suggested that he wanted to say more but he didn't.
Sabyna sensed that whatever stilled his tongue was wrapped up in one of the secrets he kept to himself. "Besides scraping barnacles," she asked him, "what else can you do?"
"I've worked for a shipwright and built ships from the ground up, from dry dock to harbor."
"I've got a list of repairs I'd like made over the next few days," she told him. If he accepted, she knew she'd be seeing more of him, and maybe she'd get a solution to the enigma he presented. At the very least, he made enjoyable company. "Most of them are only cosmetic, but I'd like them completed. We've only got a couple men who're decent carpenters. If you've got skill, maybe I can get Tynnel to pay some extra wages."
"I'd be happy to look at the repairs, and whatever you can pay would be fine."
He looked like he was about to say something else, but his eyes cut away from hers.
"It could be Tynnel's offered purse would be so small that I'll have to supplement your pay with meals." Part of Sabyna cringed when she was so bold as to say that. She knew her mother wouldn't have approved at all.
"I'd enjoy that."
She gazed out at the horizon, where the wine-dark sky descended and touched the flat surface of the Sea of Swords. "So what is it that draws you to the sea?"
"I don't know, lady," he answered politely, "but I do know that I've felt the pull of it every day of my life."
"Would you like me to foretell your future?" she asked.
He paused, as if weighing the risk, then said simply, "Aye."
"Give me your hand."
Hesitantly, he offered it.
She took his hand in hers and studied it in the pale moonlight. It felt rough and hard, a working man's hand. A few scars from fish knives, nets, and other sharp instruments crisscrossed the natural lines in his palm, making it confusing in the shadows.
"Wait here. I'll need more light."
"If this is going to be trouble for you, I'd rather not."
"It's no trouble," Sabyna said.
He gave her a short nod, but clearly didn't look happy about the extra effort.
She pushed herself up and walked to the railing to get one of the spare lanterns tucked away there. She lit it from the one already burning a few feet away, and returned. She concentrated on his palm, trying to divine what she could of him and the possible futures that waited on him. The divination she attempted wasn't part of a spell, but was based on simple teaching