WindLegends Saga 9: WindRetriever by Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo
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Chernov finally piped up. "You don't mess around with her."
Chernov groaned. "Felix, please!" The Harbor Master looked at Sajin with embarrassment.
"There are those who believe in such foolishness, but I am certainly not one of them."
"You should be," the one called Felix grumbled.
Sajin's lips twitched. "I'll see Her Grace gets this." He tucked the note into the waistband of his trousers. "Is there anything else?"
"No, Your Grace," Chernov answered. He looked about at the hustle and bustle on board the Tempest. "If you need anything, please don't hesitate to send word."
"Thank you," Sajin replied. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, then?"
"Oh, yes, of course!" Chernov said. He bowed once more and then scooted Felix with him Charlotte Boyett-Compo WINDRETRIEVER 49
from the ship.
Balizar, who had been listening to the exchange, hurried after the two men. "Hey, wait a minute!" he called out, drawing the men's attention. When he reached them, he asked if they knew of any passengers that might have stayed behind when the Serenian ship The Ravenwind hoisted anchor for that foreign shore.
Chernov shook his head. "One gentleman attempted to stay behind but his comrades would not permit it. As I recall, they literally dragged him back on board."
Balizar frowned. "What was his name, do you know?"
The Harbor Master thought a moment. "I don't believe I heard them speak his name, but if you know the men, you would certainly know if whom I speak." He grimaced slightly. "He was Necroman."
"Taborn," Balizar chuckled. "Shalu Taborn."
"He gave them a time of it," Felix told Arbra. "Bellowing at the top of his lungs the whole time they was manhandling him up the gangplank. Cursing them, too!"
"That's sound about right," Balizar answered. "But they did get his black ass on board?"
"Yes," Chernov agreed. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I know someone who will want to know," Balizar quipped. He touched his forefinger to his temple. "My thanks, gentlemen." He turned and loped back up the gangplank.
Catherine tensed as the light rap came at her door. She was almost of the mind not to answer it, but took in a deep breath and flung the door open. She was relieved to see Sajin standing in the passageway.
"It's just me," he laughed, seeing the relief spreading across her face. "The troll isn't awake, yet."
The Tzarevna's forehead crinkled. "He's still asleep?"
Sajin nodded. "Rupine said to let him sleep as long as he wanted. Maybe he can sleep that damned headache off." He held up one finger then dug into his waistband to produce the note Chernov had given him. "Some old lady sent this to you by the Harbor Master." He held out the folded parchment.
Catherine took the note and unfolded it. Squinting at the scrawl of writing slashed across the page, she read the note, then slowly lowered it to stare blindly at Sajin.
"Trouble?" he asked, wondering at the paleness of her face.
"It could be," she answered and turned her back. She walked to her bunk and sat down.
After glancing once more at the note, she looked up at Sajin. "We have to leave the ship here, Sajin."
"Oh, no!" he began, not wishing to go over this with her again. He was about to remind her of their last discussion about disembarking at Odess, but she stopped him.
"The woman I wanted Conar to see in St. Steffensburg knew we were coming and she's come here to Odess to meet us," Catherine explained. "She's taken a keep just outside town and wants me to bring him there."
"How convenient," Sajin mumbled. He held out his hand. "Let me see the note, Cat."
Catherine's eyes flared angrily. "You don't believe me?"
Sajin didn't answer. His hand was still out.
"You can't read it," she protested. "It's written in the language of the Daughterhood."
"Even more convenient," he quipped, lowering his hand. Folding his arms over his chest, he stared at her. "I may have been born at night, Catherine, but it wasn't last night."
"Meaning what?" she shot back.
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Chernov groaned. "Felix, please!" The Harbor Master looked at Sajin with embarrassment.
"There are those who believe in such foolishness, but I am certainly not one of them."
"You should be," the one called Felix grumbled.
Sajin's lips twitched. "I'll see Her Grace gets this." He tucked the note into the waistband of his trousers. "Is there anything else?"
"No, Your Grace," Chernov answered. He looked about at the hustle and bustle on board the Tempest. "If you need anything, please don't hesitate to send word."
"Thank you," Sajin replied. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, then?"
"Oh, yes, of course!" Chernov said. He bowed once more and then scooted Felix with him Charlotte Boyett-Compo WINDRETRIEVER 49
from the ship.
Balizar, who had been listening to the exchange, hurried after the two men. "Hey, wait a minute!" he called out, drawing the men's attention. When he reached them, he asked if they knew of any passengers that might have stayed behind when the Serenian ship The Ravenwind hoisted anchor for that foreign shore.
Chernov shook his head. "One gentleman attempted to stay behind but his comrades would not permit it. As I recall, they literally dragged him back on board."
Balizar frowned. "What was his name, do you know?"
The Harbor Master thought a moment. "I don't believe I heard them speak his name, but if you know the men, you would certainly know if whom I speak." He grimaced slightly. "He was Necroman."
"Taborn," Balizar chuckled. "Shalu Taborn."
"He gave them a time of it," Felix told Arbra. "Bellowing at the top of his lungs the whole time they was manhandling him up the gangplank. Cursing them, too!"
"That's sound about right," Balizar answered. "But they did get his black ass on board?"
"Yes," Chernov agreed. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I know someone who will want to know," Balizar quipped. He touched his forefinger to his temple. "My thanks, gentlemen." He turned and loped back up the gangplank.
Catherine tensed as the light rap came at her door. She was almost of the mind not to answer it, but took in a deep breath and flung the door open. She was relieved to see Sajin standing in the passageway.
"It's just me," he laughed, seeing the relief spreading across her face. "The troll isn't awake, yet."
The Tzarevna's forehead crinkled. "He's still asleep?"
Sajin nodded. "Rupine said to let him sleep as long as he wanted. Maybe he can sleep that damned headache off." He held up one finger then dug into his waistband to produce the note Chernov had given him. "Some old lady sent this to you by the Harbor Master." He held out the folded parchment.
Catherine took the note and unfolded it. Squinting at the scrawl of writing slashed across the page, she read the note, then slowly lowered it to stare blindly at Sajin.
"Trouble?" he asked, wondering at the paleness of her face.
"It could be," she answered and turned her back. She walked to her bunk and sat down.
After glancing once more at the note, she looked up at Sajin. "We have to leave the ship here, Sajin."
"Oh, no!" he began, not wishing to go over this with her again. He was about to remind her of their last discussion about disembarking at Odess, but she stopped him.
"The woman I wanted Conar to see in St. Steffensburg knew we were coming and she's come here to Odess to meet us," Catherine explained. "She's taken a keep just outside town and wants me to bring him there."
"How convenient," Sajin mumbled. He held out his hand. "Let me see the note, Cat."
Catherine's eyes flared angrily. "You don't believe me?"
Sajin didn't answer. His hand was still out.
"You can't read it," she protested. "It's written in the language of the Daughterhood."
"Even more convenient," he quipped, lowering his hand. Folding his arms over his chest, he stared at her. "I may have been born at night, Catherine, but it wasn't last night."
"Meaning what?" she shot back.
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
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