‘Forgive me, Highness,’ interrupted the captain. ‘But, as you noted earlier, my first mate is truly suffering. If I am understanding you, the ice and cold of Omtose Phellack are mere aspects, or, I suppose, applications of a force. And, as such, they are not that force’s sole characteristic.’
Felash clapped her hands. ‘Precisely, Captain! Excellent!’
‘Very well, Highness. I am so relieved. Now, as to those other aspects of the Hold, what can you tell me?’
Felash blinked up at the woman. ‘Why, nothing.’
‘Nothing?’
‘Not a thing, Captain. The only manifestation of Omtose Phellack this world has seen has been ice-aspected.’
‘Then how do you know there’s more to it?’
‘Captain, it only stands to reason.’
‘So, this notion of there being more, it’s merely … theoretical?’
‘Dearest, that term is not pejorative, no matter the tone you have just employed.’
Teeth chattering, Skorgen Kaban said, ‘So I stood here for that? You ain’t got a Mael-spitting clue?’
‘Hardly accurate, First Mate,’ Felash said. ‘It would hardly have served any of us if I’d simply said, “I don’t know”, would it? Instead, what I have actually said is, “I don’t know, but I believe this to be a path worth pursuing.”’
‘So why didn’t you?’ he demanded.
‘But I did!’
Shurq Elalle turned to Skorgen. ‘That’s enough, Pretty. Go back to the others.’
‘An’ tell ’em what?’
‘We’re … exploring possibilities.’
Felash waved one plump hand. ‘A moment, please. I suggest that you both return to your fellows. The explorations that will occupy me on this day are best done alone, for I cannot guarantee the safety of anyone in close proximity. In fact, I suggest you move your camp perhaps twice its present distance from us.’
‘Very well, Highness,’ said Shurq Elalle. ‘We shall do that.’
As they marched off, Felash turned to her handmaid. ‘My dear,’ she murmured, ‘a journey awaits you.’
‘Yes, Highness.’
‘Gird yourself well,’ Felash advised. ‘Prepare the armour and take the throwing axes. And you will need to swim out to the ship, for a splinter of wood. But before all that, I wish a new pot of tea, and more rustleaf for this bowl.’
‘At once, Highness.’
‘Gods below,’ Shurq Elalle muttered as they neared the crew’s camp, ‘but she has spectacular tits. It ever amazes me the extraordinary variation blessing us all.’ She glanced at her first mate. ‘Or cursing us, as the case may be.’
‘I wanted to stick a damned knife in her skull, Cap’n.’
‘Belay such notions, and stow them deep and dark – if one of the mates hears you, well, I don’t want that kind of trouble.’
‘Of course, Cap’n. Was just an impulse, anyway, like a tic under the eye. Anyway, how could you see her tits at all, under all those warm furs and such?’
‘I could see just fine,’ Shurq replied. ‘It’s called imagination, Pretty.’
‘Wish I had some of that.’
‘In the meantime, we need to allay some fears, and I expect moving us farther down the strand will put us in good stead right from the start.’
‘Aye, it will.’ He scratched at the scars puckering his neck. ‘You know, Cap’n, I got me a smell that’s saying that handmaiden of hers ain’t as useless as she’s made out to look, you know?’
‘Brewing pots and lighting pipe bowls doesn’t count for anything with you, Pretty? I tell you, I’m considering finding my own handmaiden once we get home. Of course,’ she added, ‘there’s no rule says it has to be a woman, is there?’
A flush crept up the man’s misshapen face.
Shurq clapped him on the back. ‘You’re right about her, Pretty. I’m thinking she’s as mean a sorceress as the Princess herself, and probably a lot more besides. That woman hides herself well, but one glimpse of her wrists … well, unless she’s throwing bales of hay around when no one’s looking – and given the scars on her hands those bales got knives in them – well, aye, she’s more than she seems.’
‘What’s her name anyway?’
‘No idea.’ Shurq grunted. The sailors at the camp were watching them now. ‘All right, Pretty, let me do the talking.’