Aldabreshin 1 - Southern Fire by McKenna Juliet E

Author:McKenna, Juliet E. [McKenna, Juliet E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1 84149 166 7
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Chapter Twelve

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Has any other warlord ever learned the art of rowing, three men to an oar on a merchant galley?

Kheda leaned over the thick wooden shaft, ducking his head to try and see out of the leather-shrouded oar port.

'So this is Beloc domain? What's it like?' They had reached waters Kheda barely knew by reputation, never mind accurate accounts. 'Whereabouts are we? Is this a central isle or somewhere on a border strait?'

His companion on the narrow seat on the Springing Fish's rowing deck wasn't listening. 'Why does Rast have to pick now to change ships?' he grumbled, broad mouth downturned. 'We'll get some fuzz-faced youngling who'll be grizzling for his mother before we've gone a day's pull.'

How many warlords realise just how many men travel the Archipelago like this, taking ship for a few days, slipping ashore to find another heading in the right direction?

Kheda studied his own hands, palms now as hard as any galley master could wish. He ran a cautious finger over the shiny round scar of what had been a vicious blister.

Well, almost. Better get some salve on that crease or it'll crack again.

'If we don't get someone to take Rast's seat, you'll be bellyaching about doing two men's work, I suppose,' the man across the aisle commented.

I really did expect the rains to lift Ialo's mood; everyone else was a new man once the heat broke and we got cool winds to help us north instead of that dragons breath scorching us from noon to dusk.

'I should be taking a prow oar by now, working with the experienced men.' Ialo glowered at the backs of the men idly chatting on the foremost benches. 'I shouldn't be wasted back here with you island-hopping rabble.'

'I've been rowing merchant galleys since Asyl Nian first gave me leave to quit his domain.' The man across the aisle was indignant. 'Anyway, you came aboard three days after me. I'll be moving forward before you do, pal.'

'Reading your own fortune in your hands, soothsayer?' queried the oar port rower from the bench behind Kheda.

He smiled. 'I think we can all see our futures, until dusk at least.'

As he spoke, a whistle shrilled at the far end of the long, dark deck. With resigned sighs and discreet groans, the foremost rowers slid along their benches and began filing along the gangway between them.

'Shift yourself, Ialo.' Kheda's oar mate was still slumped on the seat.

The heavily muscled man looked up, sulky. 'I might change ship here. Rast was all right and you're willing to learn but why should I be landed with some kid who'll just want the splinters picking out of his arse?'

The inboard rower from the bench behind gave Ialo's shoulder a shove. 'Shift your own arse before it gets my toe up it.'

Ialo got to his feet, still complaining. 'I used to row great galleys, every man with an oar of his own. That takes skill, let me tell you.'

'You have already, plenty of times,' muttered someone across the aisle.

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