“Of course we are. We’re your passengers.”
“Passengers of what?” He gestured to the Gray Gull. “I’ve got no ship now. I was a fool to sail this early. I should never have let Monroe talk me into it.”
I had heard the name a few times in our voyage, and it took me a moment to place it. “The Good Hope’s captain? Do . . . do you think they went off course too? Or that they . . .”
“My guess is they’re about to dock in Cape Triumph. The Good Hope’s bigger and heavier. She was getting knocked about, but last glimpse I got, she was still intact and holding her own.” His eyes drifted back to the Gray Gull, and he gave a heavy sigh. “At least I got part of my pay up front.”
“And you’ll get the rest from Mister Thorn when you take us to Cape Triumph.”
Noticing the fire’s glow, he ambled toward it. I followed along, several sailors in our wake. “Girl, I’m not an escort service. I’ve got to get my men and my goods out of here and try to regroup.”
“Ahem,” said Mister Baxter. “Some of those are our goods.”
“Yes. And some are Mister Thorn’s,” I added. “I’m sure he’ll give you a handsome bonus when you return them—and us.”
The captain held his palms by the fire. After a few moments, he peered up at the darkening sky. “I wish we could see the damned stars.”
“Can you make any guess at all where we are now?” asked the younger merchant.
“Still just north. If we’re lucky, the current only took us to Archerwood. But we could be as far as Grashond. In the morning, I’ll send some men south in the boats to see what they can come across. Uros willing, we’re just up the coast from a major port like Watchful or Sutton. And if nothing else, there should be some fishing village nearby.”
“I’ll go with them,” I said immediately. I needed civilization. I needed to be actively working toward Cape Triumph.
The captain snorted. “You will not. I’m not wasting the boat space. The bulk of us will make camp here with the cargo. You can stay or wander off as you like, but I’m not pampering the lot of you.”
A few of the sailors eyed us speculatively, and I became aware of a new danger to add to our growing list. On the ship, the crew had had brutal orders to not even think about laying a hand on us. But out here? In the wilderness? Their captain had written us off. They didn’t have Jasper to answer to anymore. The younger merchant might come to our aid, but the elderly Baxters wouldn’t be fighting anyone off.
That would leave us on our own. The sailors outnumbered us and had an advantage of size and strength. Near me, Maria shifted, and I saw her eyeing the fire—in particular, pieces of driftwood near the edges. Not a bad weapon in a pinch, I supposed. Maria’s gloom was irritating, but I had the impression she’d been a scrapper back in Osfro.
I put my hands on my hips as I faced down the captain. “You don’t have to ‘pamper’ us, but you do have to help us survive out here until we can find some help! You don’t think you’ll ever cross paths with Jasper Thorn again? When he finds out you abandoned us, he’ll ruin the reputation of any new venture you try to start up.”
This gave the captain pause, but one of the other sailors snorted. “That’s if he finds out what happened. We’ll just tell him that you all were lost and—”
“Shut up,” his captain told him. “Listen, girl, even if we’re able to—”
“What’s that?”
I started at the unexpected sound of Miss Quincy’s voice. In fact, I was so astonished to finally hear her that it took me a moment to process her words and look where she pointed. There, out of the hazy western forest, riders emerged from among the trees. Nearly two dozen riders.
At first, they were only shadowy figures. As they came closer, I noticed finer details. Intricate metalwork on the horses’ bridles like none I’d ever seen. Fur-trimmed coats of unusual patterns. The women had on pants. Some of the men wore their black hair far longer than Osfridian fashion allowed right now. All carried a weapon of some kind, be it blade, bow, or gun.
The captain muttered something explicit and then said more loudly to us, “Of course. Of course this would happen. We’re not in Grashond. We landed on the far side of the damned Quistimac.”
I pulled up a mental map of Adoria and tried to picture the Quistimac River. I couldn’t quite recall its exact placement. It was in the northern part of Adoria, I knew that, but most of our study at the manor had focused on the richer, commercial colonies to the south—the ones we were likely to marry into. Winnifred asked the question that was on my lips.
“What’s on the far side of the Quistimac?”
The strange riders reached the beach, and the captain grimaced. “Balanquan territory.”
CHAPTER 5
BALANQUANS.
My chest tightened. Our Glittering Court education had covered all aspects of Adoria, but the Balanquans had warranted only a brief summary. That was because it was unlikely we’d ever do much more than pass one or two of them in the safety of a colonial town. There’d been no lesson covering what to do if we faced a small army in the middle of nowhere.
Almost two centuries ago, when armies had sailed from the Evarian continent to Osfrid, they’d found people already living on the island: Icori. The two groups had fought for years until the Icori, defeated, had yielded their land and sailed away. Most thought the Icori had perished on the Sunset Sea, so it had been a shock when Osfridian explorers “discovered” Adoria and found our ancient foes had made a new home for themselves.
But someone else had been in Adoria long before the Icori, someone we’d had no experience with. The Balanquans. An empire shrouded in mystery. People who didn’t act like us, dress like us, or speak like us. They remained neutral toward the Osfridian colonization of Adoria—as well as the renewed fighting with the Icori—and traded with Icori, Osfridians, and Evarians alike. The Balanquans were more advanced than the rest of us in certain technologies, and their goods were highly prized. They kept their techniques secret, and rumors abounded about northern cities filled with wonders. Few outsiders had ever seen those cities, however, as the Balanquans were fiercely protective of their territory. And since it wasn’t really known if those fabled advancements extended to weapons, everyone gave the Balanquan borders a wide berth.
“Easy, boys,” murmured the captain. The sailors had tensed up, and the few with weapons—mostly knives—had reached for them. “They could easily kill us all. Let me do the talking.”
Several of the Glittering Court girls cowered closer to one another, whimpering and pale in the fire’s flickering light. Most of the riders slowed to a halt, but one horse trotted boldly forward, bearing a woman in an exquisitely draped coat made from layers of black wool edged in silvery fur. It reminded me of flower petals and would have been the envy of many of Osfro’s fashion-conscious crowd. A cap of the same luxurious fur covered her dark hair, framing eyes that were both sharp and wary.
“You’re trespassing,” she said in accented Osfridian.
“Not by choice, friends, I assure you,” replied the captain, wearing a smile that looked like it hurt his face. “As you can see by our ship there—what’s left of it—we didn’t have much say in coming here. We’re lucky to be alive after the storm we went through.”
Her expression remained hard. “We don’t allow your people in our land. You aren’t supposed to be here.”
“Of course, of course. And in the morning, some of my men will be sailing south and—”
“No.” This came from a Balanquan man who rode up beside her. His fur-trimmed jacket was simpler in cut, but the design on the wool was extraordinary, depicting fanciful patterns of teal and ivory birds. I didn’t know which appealed to me more: the coat’s beauty or its warmth. “You will not be traveling through our lands,” he said. “You are not going to Askashi.”
“Perhaps you’d like to escort us,” said the
captain. “My ship was filled with goods—you can see it all over there—and we’d be happy to trade in Askashi—”
“Most of that isn’t yours,” I interjected.
He shot me a furious look. “Quiet. This has nothing to do with you.”
“Of course it does! Our future’s at stake here too, and if anyone’s going to be trading Jasper’s haul, it’ll be us. Otherwise, it’s going south with us, and you’d do bloody well to keep your hands off it!”
The Balanquans’ eyes fell on me, and I cringed. The woman scanned our group of girls. “Do you let women work on your ships now?” She sounded surprised, pleasantly so.
“Ah, no, these are our passengers, and as you can imagine, they need assistance out here in these conditions, so your help would—”
“Oh, now we’re your passengers?” Turning from the captain, I faced the Balanquan woman with as much courage as I could. “Begging your pardon, mistress, but this lowlife was ready to abandon us to the wolves minutes ago and steal our benefactor’s property! I wouldn’t trust him either, if I were you. But the rest of us? We’re just on our way to Cape Triumph to get married. You tell us the quickest way out of here, whatever you want, and we’ll do it. We’ll even pay you for passage.” I didn’t want the sailors absconding with Jasper’s goods, but I was pretty sure he wouldn’t mind if I bartered away a few things to get us back. I nodded toward the merchants. “And, uh, they’re with us too. Also happy to pay, I’m sure.”
The two Balanquans studied me for what felt like an eternity. I don’t think they even blinked. Then, without another word, they rode back to their companions and began speaking in a language unlike any I’d ever heard. Internally, I wilted, unable to believe the way I’d just spoken to them. But I couldn’t leave our fate in the sailors’ hands. If I wasn’t in Cape Triumph when the Wilsons arrived, I knew they’d take good care of Merry, but they’d also take her with them if they had to leave to follow their job leads in the southern colonies before I arrived. I could easily lose track of her.
“I hope you’re happy,” growled the captain. “You’ve most likely gotten us all killed.”
“It’s not like you were doing so well!” I hissed back. “Besides, you’re not my responsibility.”
I studied the riders and noticed that they didn’t all seem to be Balanquans. A handful had lighter hair and skin and wore far less elaborate clothing. They looked rough and seasoned, as though the harsh elements didn’t faze them at all. But were they Osfridians? Or some other people from Evaria? Would they be sympathetic to us?
The Balanquan leader separated herself again and returned to us. When she spoke, she directed her words to me. “We’ve decided to help you. We’ll escort you to our outpost southwest of here, down on the Quistimac. You’ll be given food and shelter. We can also transport some of your cargo tonight. We’ll come back for the rest of it in the morning, at which time we can negotiate a fair price for our assistance.” Her dark-brown eyes shifted to the captain. “A price everyone will pay for themselves, with their own means.”
The captain sagged with relief. “Certainly. And then from there—”
“From there, we’ll take you up the Quistimac to a ford near Constancy. Your own people can deal with you then. The trip should take about three days.”
“Constancy!” exclaimed Captain Milford. “That’s a landlocked farm town! If you want us in Grashond, fine. But at least take us to the coast, so we can get a ship in Watchful. We don’t want to go farther inland.”
“This isn’t negotiable,” said the Balanquan man who’d spoken before. “Traveling to Watchful passes through too much of our territory and the Icori’s. Neither of us want you there. Going to Constancy keeps you mostly on the river and gets you back to your own lands faster.”
“For which we are very, very grateful,” I announced. I knew little about Grashond and nothing about Constancy, but I’d gladly take any of the colonies over a leaking ship or freezing beach. “When can we go?”
The Balanquan woman was watching the captain. “As soon as everyone agrees.”
He threw up his hands. “Of course we agree. What damned choice do we have?”
* * *
It was fully dark when we reached the Balanquans’ trading post, and by then, I couldn’t feel any of my extremities. Bone weary, I just kept putting one foot in front of the other, telling myself that each step I took was another step to Merry.
The trading post sat on the bank of the Quistimac River, which appeared only as a dark ribbon this time of night. The post’s main hub was a simple, one-room rectangular building, though when I passed close to its walls, I noticed fanciful and highly detailed carvings in the wood, similar to the designs in the Balanquans’ clothing and gear. I’d learned along the way that our ship had been spotted by a trading party en route to this post and that they had sought out one of the patrols that guarded the Balanquan side of the river. The merged group of sentries and traders had then intercepted us at the beach.
We packed into the post and silently devoured the hard bread and dried meat our hosts provided. The closeness of so many bodies, along with a cozy hearth, provided almost enough heat to make me feel human again. As we finished our meal, Alisi—the Balanquan woman who’d led the party—beckoned me to the side of the room. I rose from the dirt floor on stiff legs and scurried over to her.
“Tamsin Wright, correct?” she asked. “You’re in charge of these young women?”
I hesitated and glanced back to where Miss Quincy sat hunched under a blanket. “Y-yes. I suppose so.”
“Between them and the others on your ship, we have almost fifty extra people. We can’t fit that many in here for the night, but we’ll pack in who we can. We have tents everyone else can use, but those too will be crowded. Once my own people are settled, I can give you about fifteen spots on the floor, plus a tent. Can you divide your charges appropriately?”
“Yes, of course. Thank you. What about the others from our ship?”
“We’ve given them tents.” A knowing look crossed her face. “But the sailors will not be near you.”
“Thank you.” I pointed toward the gray-haired Baxters, sitting near my friends. “Let that couple sleep in here. Two more from our group will go outside instead.”
“It’s cold out,” a new voice remarked. “You sure your friends won’t mind you giving away those spots?”
Alisi and I turned to find we’d been joined by a few of the mysterious riders I’d noted earlier, the ones who weren’t Balanquans. The young woman who’d spoken had her hood thrown back, revealing long golden hair in need of a good washing. Most of her needed a good washing, actually. She had dirt smudged on her face and stains on her thick leather coat that my laundress’s eye knew weren’t ever going to come out.
“Honestly, my friends’ll just be glad to sleep somewhere that isn’t in danger of sinking,” I told her. “And I’ll take one of the outdoor spots, so they can hardly complain over what I’m willing to do myself.”
The woman rolled her eyes. “Oh, they’ll always find a way to complain. That’s the downside of being a leader.”
I glanced at the Glittering Court girls huddled together over their rations. “What’s the upside?”
“Still trying to figure that out.” The newcomer turned to Alisi. “Dermoc’s burn is starting to bother him again. Can we buy some more nettle from you?”
Alisi looked genuinely dismayed. “I wish you could, Orla. We sent the last batch to Askashi.”
“I see. Well, it doesn’t look infected yet, so he’ll just have to put up with it until we’re home. The question now is if we can put up with his grumbling.”
“Wait, Mistress—what was it?—Orla?” I called as the hardened group started to leave. The golden-haired woman regarded me with impatience. She struck me as someone who didn’t handle delays well. “What kind of burn is it?”
&nbs
p; “Sparks blew onto his gloves while he was building a fire,” she said after some hesitation. “They took hold and blistered the side of his hand before he could rub the flames out.”
“Okay, wait just a moment.”
Leaving them puzzled, I hurried out of the post, gritting my teeth at the icy wind that met me. Our cargo was stacked nearby, guarded by a couple of Balanquans who watched me closely but didn’t interfere as I searched the pile by torchlight. I wasn’t even sure if what I wanted would be here; it could have been left on the beach until morning.
“There you are,” I murmured, spying a long, flat leather case. I carried it back inside and was intercepted along the way by Polly.
“Tamsin, even in here, it’s still cold. I mean, it’s better, but . . . isn’t there something you can do?” She pulled irritably at the edge of her cloak, which was made of a wool that was very lovely and very finely woven—but also very thin. “We didn’t come prepared to camp out in the woods for three days.”
“What is it you think I can do?” I asked, taken aback by her tone.
“I don’t know. But you get things done.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I muttered, returning to Orla and Alisi. “Here.”
Orla stopped their Balanquan conversation and took the small bottle I handed her. “What is it?”
“Arnica. Not as good as nettle for burns, but it’ll take the edge off it.”
“I know it,” said Orla. She peered at the rest of the box’s contents, consisting of various creams, rouges, and kohl. I had grabbed the whole thing in my haste. “Strange medical kit.”
“Oh—these are cosmetics. We keep the arnica around for blemishes.” I felt idiotic even saying the words. Skin beauty seemed so trite, given our life-and-death situation.
Orla’s smirk suggested she was thinking the same thing. She made a comment to her companions in yet another language I didn’t know, eliciting laughter. To me, she said, “Well, Dermoc would welcome it. And maybe he’ll even come out looking a little prettier. What will you trade for it? Food? I have coin too.”