Chapter Seven #2
When he finally straightened, his mouth tasting like the foulest concoction, he tried to laugh along.
Bryok had abandoned him there in his shame.
The others eventually went back to their groups over the deck, many playing a game of dice in the shelter of the great mast. Delen shook her head at him with both mocking and sympathy.
Cador caught sight of Jem slowly approaching. “What?” he growled, forcing himself to let go of the rail.
Jem stopped short. “I only wanted to see if you’re well.”
“Do I fucking look well?”
“No.”
Jem’s simple honesty took Cador by surprise. He cringed at the thought of his appearance, wiping his mouth on his boar-skin sleeve. He was a hunter of Ergh. Bryok was right—he was a warrior! He would not be defeated by a weak belly. “I’m fine.”
“It’s only…” Jem took a step closer. His dark curls were damp from sea spray that shone in the light of the thin moon. “I know a trick. We go sailing down at the seaside every summer.”
“How wonderful for you.”
“Although that sea is typically gentle, the swells can get large and the tides powerful. I learned that if you apply pressure to the right spots, it eases your stomach.”
Cador scoffed. “Sounds like mainland nonsense. Is there a prayer to go along with it? Does the god of earth ground the swirling? Or Glaw calm the sea?”
“No. The healer said it’s to do with the currents in the body. Also, if you close your eyes, the sickness will be worse. Keep watching the water and the horizon.”
“I am! I don’t need your help.”
“All right.” Jem turned.
“Although if I were to humor you, what is this trick?” Cador had tasted enough acrid bile already, and they had weeks to go aboard the ship.
“Hold out your wrist.”
Watching Jem carefully, he extended his right arm. Was this a trick of another kind? There was no way Jem could overpower him, but perhaps he had something else in mind. “I warn you, if you try to fool me or…”
Jem took hold of Cador’s wrist, his fingers light and gaze steady. “I only want to help.”
“Why?” Cador glowered down at him.
Jem glanced over to Bryok and the others. “They don’t seem willing to try.”
And why should they? Why should I have help? It’s my own weakness. I’d mock me too.
Carefully, as if he handled the hoof of a boar who wasn’t quite dead yet, Jem turned Cador’s un-branded palm to the heavens. Bending his head, he pressed three of his fingers to the softer skin of Cador’s inner wrist, his thumb firm on the other side. He continued pressing and did nothing else.
“Well?” Cador demanded. “What is this trick?”
“Pressure here helps alleviate the sickness.” Although his hands were cold, the steady force warmed the skin where Jem touched. “In some, one side is more effective than the other. For most people, it’s the right.”
Cador scoffed. “This is it? This is nothing!”
“Just wait.”
“For fuck’s sake.” He tugged his wrist—but Jem held on with unexpected strength. Cador was so surprised he let him.
“Be patient.”
And that was the order of the day, wasn’t it?
If Cador had to trust Tas and wait, perhaps he could spare a bit more patience for Jem.
Especially since his empty stomach clenched ominously as the waves grew higher.
Especially if it could actually work. Cador did as Jem said and kept his eyes on the shadowy horizon.
Jem followed his gaze. “Don’t you find it…”
After a few moments of silence, Cador couldn’t resist asking, “What?” There was no reason he should give a shit what Jem was thinking, yet curiosity tugged.
“There’s so much of it.” Jem stared out at the silver-capped waves.
“I never imagined the world could be this vast.” He sounded both awed and afraid.
“When I sailed in the Southern Sea, the water was so clear in the sunlight that I could see schools of fish zigzagging. We only went out for the day and never lost sight of the land. Here, it’s…
endless.” He shuddered. “How do you know the way to Ergh?”
“I don’t, but Meraud will guide us true. She knows the Askorn Sea like the back of her hand.”
“How? If Ergh has remained solitary all these years, where would she have gone?”
“She grew up fishing and now captains this ship around the island to make trade. The land is impassable in parts, so we use ships for goods. But I’d rarely been on one before we came to the mainland.”
Jem pressed steadily with his fingers, a little smile lifting his lush lips. “I imagine you prefer solid ground.”
“Yes,” Cador admitted since he’d obviously betrayed this weakness. If Jem’s trick worked, at least it would make the days to come more bearable.
“Wait, did you say there is fishing in Ergh? I thought the Askorn Sea was too forbidding to hold any life.”
Cador had to laugh at that. “What nonsense. Of course there are fish in these waters.” He couldn’t resist adding, “All sorts of creatures lurk beneath the surface.”
Jem’s eyes widened, and he stared down at the heaving waves. “I can imagine.” Then light seemed to dance in his eyes in the pale moonlight. “Has anyone ever spotted a merman?”
“What? Of course not.” More mainland nonsense. Their heads were all full of clouds. Still, Cador found his lips twitching at Jem’s fanciful expression.
“Hmm. Suppose not. Watch the horizon,” Jem reminded him as icy wind whipped. “Seems Glaw is determined to torment us. Hwytha of the wind too. Earth and fire must be napping.”
Cador didn’t try to keep the scorn from his voice. “Do you imagine them in the heavens, peering down as we would watch ants scurry? Flicking us and playing their games?”
“Honestly? No.”
“No?” After witnessing the piousness of the clerics and obedient delegates, it wasn’t the answer Cador expected. Certainly not from timid little Jem. “But I thought all mainlanders believe.”
“Most, I imagine. It’s the way we’re taught. That when we die, we ascend to the heavens to be one with the gods, to become part of the very wind and water and earth, sparks for an eternal flame. It’s a nice idea.”
“Yet you rebel?”
Jem shrugged. “I suppose, although I don’t…” His brow furrowed. “I’ve actually never told anyone I don’t believe. Not even Santo, my favorite sibling.”
It was an odd sensation to be the one receiving the confession. Jem’s fingers pressed against Cador’s wrist, warm and firm. Cador almost tore away from his grasp, suddenly wanting more distance between them.
Yet he found himself asking, “When did you stop believing?”
“I’m not sure. Years ago now.” The wind gusted, and he leaned closer, gripping Cador’s wrist.
If Cador bent over him, he could feel the damp softness of those soft, glossy curls against his cheek. He had no interest in that, but they stood close enough.
Jem said, “I think the seas roil because of the tides and the wind, and in dry summers, the earth is parched and fires are easily sparked. It’s simply the way of the world.
Sometimes the way of the world is puzzling, but it’s nothing to do with fanciful gods and their whims.” He glanced up and flashed a smile. “Heresy, I know.”
That spirited grin sent a bolt through Cador, reminding him of Jem’s solitary jest at their wedding feast. Seemed the boy wasn’t entirely timid after all. “I’d say it’s reason. A relief to hear that at least one mainlander resists the teachings of the clerics.”
“And in Ergh?”
“Most think it’s garbage, although some believe. Especially now.”
Jem frowned. “Why now?”
Cador cursed himself for his stupid mouth. Why was he even wasting his time speaking with a spoiled prince who could never understand a thing about Ergh or true hardship?
He shook his wrist free as the ship heaved—sending Jem off balance, arms wheeling as he struck the railing. The motion of the sea lifted him off his feet as the ship rocked, dipping to that side, saltwater spraying up.
Grabbing for him, Cador got a handful of Delen’s cloak. He grasped for flesh and bone with his other hand, finding Jem’s shoulder and steadying him.
“Tossing him overboard already?” Jory appeared, reaching for Jem and helping secure him.
Cador laughed. “Not yet. Maybe tomorrow.”
Jem yanked free with a violent jerk of surprising might. He was most definitely not laughing, staring daggers at Jory.
Cador huffed. “It was a jest.” This was why he shouldn’t waste his time with Jem. He stalked away, determined to join the dice game, tugging Jory along.
Yet his stride faltered, and he spun around. “Sleep below,” Cador ordered Jem. “Use my furs.” It was too cold for him on deck, that was certain. “You’re no use to us dead,” he grumbled, walking away before Jem could reply.
After laughing along with more jabs from his friends at his sea-weak stomach—Cador didn’t want to turn into a sulky mainlander who couldn’t take a jest—he sat on a crate and took his turn at dice, gulping down ale that at least coated his throat and tongue with a pleasant flavor and wouldn’t taste so bad if it came up. Although he was feeling better.
Beneath his cloak as the night grew late and bitter in the north wind, he pressed his fingers to the inside of his wrist and kept his gaze glued to the horizon.