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I loosen my grip, set her weight back onto the ship. “I cannot undo what has been done. But remember, I gave everyone a choice to stay or leave before we set out on this voyage. And you have a choice to make now, Deshel. You can lay all the blame on me, let bitterness and resentment fill you until you’re no longer able to sail with my crew. Or. You can accept that your sister knew the risks and decided to sail for adventure and treasure anyway.
“You will grieve for her. We all will, but we can keep fighting and living our lives as she would want. Now, go below and get yourself cleaned up. Take some time to adjust. Decide what you will do.”
I release her. She has no words for me in return. Not yet. She slinks belowdecks.
“As for the rest of you—get this ship ready for sailing. The king could be only a day behind us now.”
They’ve already started cutting and smoothing our new mast to shape, and Radita sets about ordering everyone back to the task.
It’s probably overkill—I’ve already seen that the cannibals can’t swim, and they don’t seem intelligent enough to use boats,but after one is faced with the danger of being eaten alive, I don’t think that really matters. Either way, I post watches while we’re making repairs.
A hand gently grips my elbow.
“Come on,” Riden says. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I realize now that I’m still covered in blood, and my shoulder needs to be cleaned. Likely with a whole bottle of rum.
“Mandsy,” Riden says, “your healing kit.”
“I’ll go fetch it.”
“And some water. Captain needs to clean up.”
He leads me toward my quarters, now by the hand, and I let him. It gives me some time to think over the tongue lashing I’m about to give him. I tell him to stay above deck while I replenish my abilities and he goes below. I tell him to stay put in the cave with everyone else and he follows me. I can’t have people on this ship I can’t trust.
He closes the door to my quarters and has me sit on the bed. After examining my shoulder for a moment, he reaches down to his boot and pulls out a knife.
“Where did you get that?” I ask.
“Won it in a game of cards from Deros. He’s always losing his knives to us.” Riden doesn’t look at me as he talks. Instead he keeps his attention on the knife, which he brings down near my shoulder.
“What are you doing?” I snap, pushing his hand away.
“Cutting at the sleeve of your corset. I need to get a proper view of the bite.”
“And ruin my corset? Are you mad?”
“Alosa, it’s already bloodstained. Give it a rest.”
“Give what a rest?”
“The arguing.”
“Youare the one who needs to give the arguing a rest. It’s becoming a habit—you disobeying and questioning orders.”
“So punish me again,” he says. “But right now we need to get you cleaned up.”
I raise both my arms, possibly in an attempt to strangle him, but my shoulder burns, and I have to settle for yelling. “It’s not about punishing you! It’s about getting you to listen! I need sailors under my command who I can trust!”
Those brown eyes flash with hurt for an instant before they harden. “You can trust me.”
“Can I? You wander belowdecks when you’re ordered to stay above. You follow me into danger when you’re told to stay behind.”
“Apologies, Captain.”
“Don’t apologize to me unless you mean it. Do you intend to disobey orders again?”
He looks down at the ground for a moment, searching for the right words to say. He pierces me with that stare of his when he finds them.
