The Compass Rose

The stowaway flinched as if under attack, and huddled tighter.

Torchay leaned close and murmured in Kallista’s ear. “That was Adaran. Maybe if you tried speaking Tibran…?”

She glared at him. She hadn’t known she was speaking Tibran in the first place. How was she supposed to know which language she spoke when they sounded the same to her?

Abruptly, the stowaway threw herself to the deck again, so swiftly that Torchay had a blade out and poised to strike before holding his blow. The woman curled onto her knees, arms once more stretched toward Kallista.

“Please, please,” she said. “Allow me to stay. I will do anything you ask. I will cook your food and wash your clothes. I will rub your feet. I will even service your man—” There came a little pause in the woman’s babbling before she went on. “Though, if I could choose, I do not think I would choose to, because he looks large and would probably hurt me, and he is rather ugly, but if you wish it, great lady, I will do it.”

Kallista could hide neither her shock nor a quick amused look at Torchay.

“What?” he muttered, flipping the naked blade in his hand. It was a good-size one, narrow and long enough to come out the back if he thrust it in the woman’s throat.

“What? What is she saying?” the captain echoed.

“She wishes to stay. She is offering herself as my servant.” Kallista turned to Torchay and lowered her voice, letting her amusement out. “And she offered to ‘service’ you, though she’d really rather not, since she thinks you’re ugly and probably too big.” She finished with a significant glance below her bodyguard’s waist, expecting a snort and a roll of the eyes. She got it, along with a blush she didn’t expect.

Puzzled, she swung back to the prostrate stowaway. Was Torchay attracted to the woman? Was that where the blush came from? She’d thought he had better taste.

“How did she get on board?” the captain said.

Kallista finally repeated all the questions.

“I am Aisse, woman of Haav, assigned to Warrior caste. I climbed onto the ship from the water, during the night, when the watch was on the far side.” The woman did not move from her submissive posture. “I beg of you, great lady, if you will not let me stay, allow me death rather than sending me back.”

“Why?” Kallista asked before translating for the captain.

“I will face death anyway, but theirs will not be a gentle one. It is so for anyone who rebels against his lot in life, but it is worse for a woman.” The Tibran, Aisse, looked up then, finally exposing her face to the lanterns’ light.

Kallista recoiled, shock exploding in gasps from throats around her. This Aisse might have been beautiful, might be beautiful again. At this moment, it was impossible to tell, given the swollen discoloration of bruises covering her face.

“What—” Kallista reached for the woman’s hand, beckoning when she did not seem to know what was wanted. “Stand up. Stand up straight and look me in the eye.”

Aisse did as she was told, slowly straightening from her hunched defensive attitude until she stood in a smaller echo of Kallista’s. Her eyes were a dark, rich brown, rarely seen in Adara. The smudges on her arms were more bruises, not dirt.

“What happened to you?” Kallista asked. “Who did this?”

“One of the Farmer caste.” Aisse shifted a shoulder. “I did not know him. He caught me as I was escaping. The morning the warriors died.”

The day of the dark magic. Kallista stifled her shudder as she translated, sensing Torchay’s impatience. He did not respond well to a lack of information.

“When they died,” Aisse went on, “I got away.”

That sent another chill through Kallista. Did she sense the hand of the One in this? “You were already running away, before this beating?”

“Yes. One beating is much like another, just as one man is like another. They are a woman’s lot, men and beatings. But I wish to choose. I want a life that is mine.”

The sincerity in her voice rang clear to Kallista’s soul. She too had wished for more choices than she’d been given, though she’d had more than Aisse. “Neither men nor beatings are a woman’s lot in Adara.”

“That is why I want to stay.”

Kallista nodded, her mind made up. “Will you renounce Tibre and swear loyalty to me as representative of Adara’s Reinine?”

Aisse started back to her knees again, joy shining through the bruises on her face, but halted at Kallista’s upraised hand and the sight of Torchay’s glittering blade.

“What are you doing, Captain?” Torchay asked through gritted teeth.

Kallista shifted her upraised hand to halt him as well. “Slowly,” she said in Tibran. “Kneel. Swear on the One, the Mother and Father of all, that you renounce all ties and loyalty to Tibre.”

“I worship Ulilianeth, great lady,” Aisse said as she knelt, eyeing Torchay’s blade all the way down.

“A beautiful aspect of the One, but only a small part of Her glory. Do you swear?” Step by step, Kallista led her through the oath, cobbling it together on the spot from other vows she had heard and sworn over the years.

“Naitan.” Torchay stepped close, bending to growl in her ear, “Kallista, what are you doing?”

“This woman has renounced her Tibran birth and begged citizenship in Adara,” Kallista said in Adaran as she gestured Aisse to her feet. This time it did not take so long for her to stand straight.

“And you gave it?” Torchay demanded.

“I will take responsibility for her as my servant, until we reach Arikon and the Reinine can decide whether to grant her request,” she said to the riverboat captain, “and of course I will pay her passage to Turysh.”

“And you’re sure she’s not a saboteur or spy?” The captain studied Kallista’s new servant with doubt.

“I’m sure.” Though her certainty bothered her. How was she so sure?

“How?” Torchay asked, voice ringing through the foredeck. “How can you know she speaks the truth?”

I just do. But that wouldn’t convince them. “My magic is of the North.” Her blue tunic would have told them so already, but truthsayers were also of the North. It wouldn’t convince Torchay, but it might the others. Probably.

He retreated first, however, giving her a hard look that faded to worry, then stoic acceptance. He bowed. “As you say, naitan.”

His acquiescence convinced the others. The captain nodded, dismissing the crew still standing guard.

“If I could beg a bath for my servant Aisse?” Kallista said.

The male officer, in charge of passengers and cargo, if she remembered right, bowed. “I will see to it, naitan.”

“I will be watching your new ‘servant’ with careful eyes, naitan,” Torchay murmured as he gestured for Aisse to follow the other man.

“I expect nothing less.” Kallista gave him a wicked grin. “That’s why I’m putting her in your charge. See that she has what she needs—new clothes and a pair of shoes to start with. Probably food. And then, teach her Adaran.”

“I’m no scholar.”

“No.” She patted his shoulder. “Which means your teaching will be eminently practical. Just try not to teach her too many curse words.”

“Here! What are you doing? Are you mad?” A hand caught Stone’s arm, jerked him back.

Stone was standing at the prow of a boat, trying to climb onto the railing. The shackles he wore on his ankles and wrists wouldn’t allow it.