him on the back, sending him crashing into the wheel.
“It is good to see you smiling again, Captain! The worse life gets, the better it is to smile!”
True to his word, Urzaia was grinning as he loomed over Calder, proudly displaying his two missing teeth. He planted hands on his hips, displaying his huge arms—one wrapped in leather, the other in gold-scaled hide.
Calder considered explaining about Petal and the wine, but decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. Knowing Urzaia, he might think it was a great idea.
“A week is enough time for grieving,” Urzaia said, leaning back with his elbows against the railing. “Now it is time to move on.”
Calder turned his manic grin on his cook. “You think so, do you?”
“You misunderstand me, I think. Do not move on to a different wife—I have found it is best to do that slowly. Move on to the next step.”
“The next step?”
Urzaia’s smile was almost as broad as Calder’s. “Vengeance.”
Calder hadn’t thought of anything else for the past week. He wasn’t sure who deserved revenge the most.
The Consultant, Shera? She was the one who had attacked them while they were sleeping, taking his wife from him.
But Consultants didn’t work on their own. Who had hired her? Surely, they were the ones who really deserved a lead ball in the heart.
Then there was Jerri herself.
She had betrayed him. Lied to him for years. Even as they had fought against the Sleepless, it turns out she was one of them . And he had married her!
The best revenge might be to leave her where she is.
He couldn’t make himself believe that. If he chose to hurt Jyrine the way she’d hurt him, he wanted to see it. How could he be satisfied when he didn’t even know if she was alive or dead? Besides, he couldn’t leave her in the hands of the Consultants. They might hurt her.
Calder didn’t even understand his own feelings anymore. He only knew that he would never be satisfied until he found Jerri.
Urzaia pulled out one of his black-hafted hatchets, laying it across his palms. “It was my fault.”
Calder turned on him, surprised. Thanks to Petal’s potion, he didn’t look shocked—he looked delighted. “Yours?”
The Woodsman looked up, and Calder realized he was talking to a different person. Not his cheerful cook, Urzaia, but the Izyrian gladiator. Banished to the arena in the hopes that the fights would kill him, Urzaia Woodsman had managed to survive for over a year against unstoppable odds.
And a single assassin had rendered him unconscious from the shadows.
“No, Urzaia, no. If she had stayed to fight you, you would have torn her apart, and she knew that. It’s why she took you out first.”
Urzaia looked down at his hatchet. “There were poisoners in the arena. They tried to hide and poison me. It has never stopped me before.”
“Trust me—”
The cook cut him off. “And it will not stop me now. Jyrine has secrets, even from you. This is not good, but every man has secrets. You two will talk, and you will work it out. Once I have killed the Consultant and brought Jyrine home.”
Calder simply nodded, grinning like an idiot.
“A Champion does not fail. Even one in disgrace, you understand?”
Urzaia slid his hatchet back over his shoulder. “I like you like this, smiling all the time. This is how you should be. I will tell Petal to drug you more.”
Only a few minutes later, he got another visit, and this one was unexpected. Tristania walked up the short ladder to the stern deck, standing by the wheel and looking at him.
Just looking.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, smiling involuntarily.
He was not surprised when the Silent One said nothing. She simply stood there, watching him. Bandages shuffled as she shifted her weight, and her coat flapped behind her in the sea breeze like a flag. Little wisps of black hair stuck out of the wrapping covering her head, and her eyes…peeking out from between two white strips of cloth, her eyes were soft
“It is good to see you smiling again, Captain! The worse life gets, the better it is to smile!”
True to his word, Urzaia was grinning as he loomed over Calder, proudly displaying his two missing teeth. He planted hands on his hips, displaying his huge arms—one wrapped in leather, the other in gold-scaled hide.
Calder considered explaining about Petal and the wine, but decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. Knowing Urzaia, he might think it was a great idea.
“A week is enough time for grieving,” Urzaia said, leaning back with his elbows against the railing. “Now it is time to move on.”
Calder turned his manic grin on his cook. “You think so, do you?”
“You misunderstand me, I think. Do not move on to a different wife—I have found it is best to do that slowly. Move on to the next step.”
“The next step?”
Urzaia’s smile was almost as broad as Calder’s. “Vengeance.”
Calder hadn’t thought of anything else for the past week. He wasn’t sure who deserved revenge the most.
The Consultant, Shera? She was the one who had attacked them while they were sleeping, taking his wife from him.
But Consultants didn’t work on their own. Who had hired her? Surely, they were the ones who really deserved a lead ball in the heart.
Then there was Jerri herself.
She had betrayed him. Lied to him for years. Even as they had fought against the Sleepless, it turns out she was one of them . And he had married her!
The best revenge might be to leave her where she is.
He couldn’t make himself believe that. If he chose to hurt Jyrine the way she’d hurt him, he wanted to see it. How could he be satisfied when he didn’t even know if she was alive or dead? Besides, he couldn’t leave her in the hands of the Consultants. They might hurt her.
Calder didn’t even understand his own feelings anymore. He only knew that he would never be satisfied until he found Jerri.
Urzaia pulled out one of his black-hafted hatchets, laying it across his palms. “It was my fault.”
Calder turned on him, surprised. Thanks to Petal’s potion, he didn’t look shocked—he looked delighted. “Yours?”
The Woodsman looked up, and Calder realized he was talking to a different person. Not his cheerful cook, Urzaia, but the Izyrian gladiator. Banished to the arena in the hopes that the fights would kill him, Urzaia Woodsman had managed to survive for over a year against unstoppable odds.
And a single assassin had rendered him unconscious from the shadows.
“No, Urzaia, no. If she had stayed to fight you, you would have torn her apart, and she knew that. It’s why she took you out first.”
Urzaia looked down at his hatchet. “There were poisoners in the arena. They tried to hide and poison me. It has never stopped me before.”
“Trust me—”
The cook cut him off. “And it will not stop me now. Jyrine has secrets, even from you. This is not good, but every man has secrets. You two will talk, and you will work it out. Once I have killed the Consultant and brought Jyrine home.”
Calder simply nodded, grinning like an idiot.
“A Champion does not fail. Even one in disgrace, you understand?”
Urzaia slid his hatchet back over his shoulder. “I like you like this, smiling all the time. This is how you should be. I will tell Petal to drug you more.”
Only a few minutes later, he got another visit, and this one was unexpected. Tristania walked up the short ladder to the stern deck, standing by the wheel and looking at him.
Just looking.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, smiling involuntarily.
He was not surprised when the Silent One said nothing. She simply stood there, watching him. Bandages shuffled as she shifted her weight, and her coat flapped behind her in the sea breeze like a flag. Little wisps of black hair stuck out of the wrapping covering her head, and her eyes…peeking out from between two white strips of cloth, her eyes were soft
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