The Whore’s Daughter
The Whore’s Daughter
When we made it above deck, a man in white robes was standing there. He looked out of place amidst the crewmen.
As soon as he saw me, his face broke into a smile. "You look like her," he said.
"Like who?"
"Your mother, of course."
"You knew her?"
"Quite well. I was her mother's healer in Alarna for many years." He paused, then laughed. "Until Eravic started getting injured every fortnight on his adventures and his father insisted I stay aboard."
"How tragic for you," I said solemnly. "The ale is terrible, and the ship is named after a color instead of something heroic."
The man burst into laughter and reached into his pocket. "I found you to bring you this."
I sniffed it. "What is this?"
"A tincture to keep your energy for longer, since I suspect we are not going to Thrykis for a holiday," he said dryly.
He handed me a flask from the other side of his robes.
"It tastes better with a gulp of shitty ale." I looked up, surprised at his language.
Then I burst into laughter. "I think I like you best," I said.
"I told you she would," he said pointedly to Eravic. "I am, by far, the funniest brother."
I frowned. "Brother?"
"The whore's daughter arrives," a voice bellowed.
No.
It could not be.
A man with a gray beard and long black robes walked toward us, his arms wide.
Master Forsamin.
I could not help myself. I lunged forward and threw my arms around his neck.
"Careful or you will smell like the herbs my brother poisoned me with this morning."
"They are for longevity and luck," he grumbled. I looked between him and the healer and immediately saw the resemblance.
"I am Elsan," the healer said. "And I am clearly the handsomer one, and younger." He winked at Eravic.
Eravic let out an audible sigh.
Master Forsamin sighed dramatically. "I can tell by looking at you that your form has gone to shit," he said sharply.
"Very unbecoming of whore's daughter," he added.
"My mother was no whore," I said, eyes narrowed.
"She said similar," he said with a laugh.
"You knew her? You knew who I was?"
Eravic sighed. "I told you one day you would regret it, old man."
"I regret nothing," he said with his chin up.
"Ryaran was a sweet girl, certainly one of the more pleasant ones. I used to teach her sword fighting just like I taught the other royals in this land, usually by traveling aboard Vaelor ships.”
"The ale is shit but the company is good," he said with a wink.
"Continue," I said, voice tight.
"I did not wake up knowing you were alive or even in Veynar. I was there teaching that weak imbecile of a brother of yours—"
"I killed him," I interrupted.
"About time," he said dryly.
"Anyway, I taught you to sword fight that day the lesson with him ended early because he scraped his knee and you were sitting in the corner thinking I had not seen you watching."
"And?"
"As time went on, I began to suspect. The mannerisms were too similar." He paused. "Then the necklace was clearly Alarnan work."
He paused. “Then one day we were fighting and she fell. The veil lifted enough to show me the Mark of Forizan.”
The Mark of Forizan, a mark that meant fertility and strong lineage were yours.
I remembered when it happened. How I had explained that indeed I had been born with a mark but that it was the only thing special about me and that it must remain a secret.
He had nodded understanding but the look in his eyes had told me he suspected I was much more than that.
"He could have told me," Eravic said. "Would have saved you a lot of misery living with the Baron."
"By the time it was certain there were already rumors she would marry a Rathmor. And had I said it to anyone her life would have immediately been in danger and you know it."
He turned to me. "So I helped you the way your mother would have wanted me to."
"By calling me a whore's daughter and teaching me to sword fight."
He smiled. "Exactly."
"If you liked my mother, why insist I was a whore's daughter?"
"Because it was funny and made your skin thick. Moreover, your mother would have approved."
"Oh?"
He drew his sword. "I used to call her queen of the cockriders."
"Oh for fuck's sake—"
Without asking permission I reached into Eravic's waist and drew out his sword.
"And to think all this time I have been politely calling you Master Forsamin—"
"You were naive, my child," Elsan murmured, clearly amused.
"They call him gutterpockets at the south tavern in Gyarin," Eravic volunteered.
"That is absolutely not true," Forsamin said, before lunging at me.
We continued for a while. At first I was sloppy. But soon I remembered my footing.
"Your form is shit," he said.
"You already said that, old man."
I smiled. "But my form can be shit, do you know why?"
"Why?"
I paused, trying to sense my lightcraft. I had not been able to use it in Morrath since my powers did not work there.
"That is cheating, whore's daughter. Your mother used to do the sa—"
My power shot out at him and threw him across the deck. I dropped my sword and ran toward him.
Elsan and Eravic burst into laughter. I shot them a dirty look. "That was a big throw, he could be hurt."
"Good riddance," Elsan grumbled behind me.
I reached Forsamin who had landed on his back and held out my hand. He raised his before throwing me across the deck.
I landed in a crouch.
"Still rude, I see."
"Not bad for a corpse," he shouted across the deck.
I handed Eravic back his sword. "Find me some ale or wine or—"
"Water?" he suggested.
"You are absolutely no fun."
"We are about to arrive at Thrykis shortly," he said quietly. "We need to plan. Now."
We walked along the deck.
"I do not have a plan."
"I can tell," he said dryly.
"The ship will remain cloaked, correct?"
"Yes. That is not relevant."
"It is. I do not need a Vaelor ship getting sacked because of my poorly planned revenge venture."
"I do not even know who we are killing. Avaneer, I assume?"
I leaned over the rail and looked at the undead surrounding the shoreline. "Why are there fewer undead outside of Thrykis than Alarna when Threns are the ones that create them?"
"For the same reason people who visit inns leave their beds a mess while at home the linens are crisp and clean."
"I hardly think that is a thing," I said.
"I have slept in more inns than you."
"I bet," I said, narrowing my eyes.
I leaned against the rail. "Blondes or brunettes?"
He frowned. "We should be discussing this terrible plan that has no plan of yours—"
"Not until you tell me."
"Neither. Give me a cross redhead or a buxom brunette,” he said.
"Buxom?" I said with a frown. He tugged the back of my hair playfully.
"Aye. But I do not mind a little less meat. And I have certainly had a few blondes please me. Never a goldie though."
I laughed. "You had a small taste."
He leaned over the rail. "I will have you know I did not wash my hand for quite some time after that. Slept with my fingers to my nose."
I leaned back and stared at him. "You did not."
"You are not even blushing."
"My husband does worse, I can assure you," I said. Thinking of last night.
He turned to me. "Part of me is intrigued, part of me would rather not know."
"Intrigued?" I said with my eyebrow arched.
"Aye. Colsar was not known for being pleasant or fun. Heard he makes his women wash him afterwards. Cannot imagine him with his fingers in his mouth."
"He puts far more than that in his mouth. And enjoys it."
"And you?"
"If you must know. I put lots of him in my mouth."
"And?"
I leaned in. "I do not waste a drop," I said in his ear.
He drew in a breath.
Then I pulled back and began walking backwards, my arms spread outward. "Is there not a room of maps and stones that a captain uses?"
"Aye. But you are going the wrong way, which is exactly why this deathquest will likely be a disaster."
"At least it will be interesting," I said, following him below deck. "I am far more interesting to look at than Elsan and Forsamin."
"Perhaps," he said with a sigh, opening the door and ushering me inside. "Your room of maps and stones, princess."
"I am certain it has a more official title than that."
"Aye. But yours is better."
I laughed and stood over the map table.
"Let us begin, Duke Eravic."
"Princess—"
"Earl Eravic. Captain of the Blue.”
"Oh for fuck's sake—"
He reached down and lifted a stone.
"You would not."
"I absolutely would. You saw I did not defend you when Forsamin came for you."
"I did not need defending. I won."
He tilted his head.
"I certainly won," I added, offended.
He cleared his throat.
"Thrykis, then."
And so we began.