Shadow Road: Book 1 of the Shadows Rising Trilogy

32. Speaking of Calm

32nd of Uirra, Continued

I had just finished tidying up my hair before heading to the Loftman's Gallery for dinner when someone tapped at my cabin door. I opened it to find Evers standing there like a half-sized officer, hands clasped neatly behind his back.

"Pardon, Miss, but Cap'n wants everyone out on the deck sharpish. He's ta make a shipwide 'nouncement."

I raised a brow.

Evers blinked, and blushed a little beneath his freckles. Then, to my surprise, he held out his arm, and gave me a courtly little bow. "M'lady."

I fought off a grin and sank into a full curtsy as I took his offered elbow. "Lead on, kind sir," I said. Very serious.

Evers straightened, then turned and escorted me through the Bridge and out onto the quarterdeck, his movements stiff and formal as a little windup soldier.

The 'nouncement' had apparently already started.

Arramy was standing in the outward curve of the quarterdeck balconette overlooking the main deck, where what seemed to be every crewman and civilian on the ship were gathered around the masts.

NaVarre stood slightly behind and to Arramy's right, arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight, spine rigid. From the death-stare he was giving the back of Arramy's head, he clearly didn't want to be there.

I didn't have a chance to find out why before Raggan blew a long blast on his dog-pipe, and all the sailors snapped to attention.

The Captain's rough brogue lacked the elegance of NaVarre's cultured tones, but that didn't keep everyone from falling silent to listen when he began speaking:

"I know this is confusing."

There was a smattering of angry agreement from the refugees, especially Orrul, who was glaring daggers at NaVarre.

Arramy stilled, waiting for silence again before he kept going, "I know many of you have been wondering what is going on. Why the Erristos fired on us. Why we're sailing away from home. I have to be honest. I don't know all the answers. I do know it's frightening. I've got loved ones on the mainland too, and right now I don't know when I'll be able to return, or what will happen to them while I'm gone.

"Many of you have been asking why we went back for the Bloody Fox and his crew. Why they are sailing with us now. Why I allowed them to go free, why they haven't left, why they are being treated as friends instead of enemies. So many whys, but it comes down to this – out here, they are as close to friends as we are going to get.

"Home isn't safe for any of us anymore. Someone back there wants us all dead. The same people want NaVarre and his crew dead, too. I don't know who. I don't know all of why. But in the end, the who and why of it isn't as important as what we have to do to stay alive. Here. Now. On this ship, with these people. And we have to survive. We have to live to fight another day, or whoever they are, they win.

"Some of you have no doubt figured out what happened in the hold. The storm did more than ruin water and cargo. We've been blown too far off course to get to the colonial shore. That does not mean all is lost. The Bloody Fox has offered to take us to Aethscaul Island. We can hide there, but Aethscaul... is in the Rimrocks. Another frightening thing, yes, but if there is anyone capable of living in an active volcano, it would be NaVarre."

To my surprise there was a murmur of laughter.

Arramy cracked a hint of a grin and paused to let everyone go quiet again, then went on, his expression sober. "You need to understand that this is our best option, but it's also a one-way trip. NaVarre has to protect his own interests, and you won't be allowed to leave the Island once you're there. I won't force you to do that, so I've outfitted a longboat with sail and what supplies we can spare. If any of the civilians want to leave, you can try your luck reaching land on your own... You must act quickly, though. The Prima Median current will take you due west from here, but the farther south we go, the farther away the coastline will get, and you will wind up being swept north into the Marral Sea instead. I can only give you a quarter hour to make your decision."

A stunned hush followed his announcement.

Then Orrul said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "I won't be no pirate's slave! If that's what 'e's got planned, 'e can hang!"

Several voices clamored after that, until the butcher's wife rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. "Well it beats starving to death with your face for company. No one would want ya, anyway, ya great oaf. Dr. Turragan, what do you think? Should we stay or go?"

The Doctor glanced around. "I would suggest we take our discussion to the mess and get the children out of the cold."

That was met by general acceptance, and all of the refugees filed below decks, disappearing down the stairs.

Arramy waited where he was, hands clasped behind his back.

I studied NaVarre. He still didn't look pleased, and I squinted, trying to figure out what was going through his head. It had been his suggestion to take the civilians to Aethscaul. Why the reluctance now? Was he rethinking that offer?

Ten minutes later, the adults came back up, much quieter, and with definite purpose.

Dr. Turragan stepped forward. "Captain, we have talked about it. We have all decided to stay on the Stryka, and accept the pirate NaVarre's offer of hospitality. Furthermore, if there is anything that the able-bodied among us can do to be of use, do not hesitate to ask. We are at your service. We humbly thank you for your bravery, and your dedication to the people under your care." Then he took off his flop-brimmed physician's hat and held it to his chest as he dipped his head.

There was a moment of tension when Orrul moved to stand beside the Doctor. He glared up at the Captain, but then, to my surprise, he too swiped his knitted cap from his head and bowed slightly. One by one, the rest of the survivors followed suit, coming to give their respect while Arramy stared down at them all. When the last of the civilians had offered their honors, Arramy nodded. Once.

He seemed cool and collected, but I was standing close enough to see the tightness of his jaw and the rigid set of his shoulders as he turned away from the main deck. He shot a quick glance at me as he strode to the Bridge door, and his eyes met mine, fierce and solemn.

I swallowed, my heart skipping a beat.

NaVarre stalked after the Captain, and before the door to the Bridge closed behind them, his angry, "What in all the seven hills do you think you're doing, offering them a boat?" could be heard, followed by Arramy's calm, "My ship, my rules."

I glanced down at Evers.

He gave me a gap-toothed smile, brown eyes bright with confidence in spite of the raised voices behind us. "Don't worry none, Miss. Cap'n'll keep them pirates in line."

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