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Oriel grabbed his arm and yanked him off the saddle. For a moment, Aspen was weightless, and he was caught in arms stronger than his. Roth rushed to calm the horse.
“Let go of me!” Aspen kicked but Oriel’s grip around him was like iron. “Don’t let him take me!”
“Uh, maybe you shouldn’t-” the sailor started as a few people stopped to stare.
“He’s just scared of water.” Oriel hurried for the gangplank. “He’ll be fine in a room where he can’t see it.”
Aspen tried to push on him, kick, and punch wherever he could reach. “Don’t do this to me! Please! Oriel! ORIEL!”
Just like the last time Aspen screamed his name, he was ignored. Oriel tightened his grip as he raced up the gangplank. The familiar tread of boots on the deck met Aspen’s ears. The slight swaying. It was dark again, and he couldn’t move while someone held and breathed over him. Why wouldn’t they just let him die?
The lantern moved with the sway, throwing shadows around, and he burst into tears. It would hurt so bad, but they never cared. He was less than a fairy to them. Less than an animal.
“Aspen, you’re safe. I promise. If anybody ever dared to touch you again, I’d kill them.”
Oriel’s arms tightened around Aspen. This wasn’t the hold, but he had no memory of getting into this room. He choked on his tears as his chest threatened to burst from the pressure in it.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, but we have to get away. They will send men farther and farther out. News will spread. I have to get us farther north just in case. It’s not just about reaching Asara and hoping she lends me her army. I have to protect us now.”
“I can’t-I can’t-”
Oriel set him on his ass and pushed him into a corner before he shoved something solid into Aspen’s grip and forced his fingers to close around it. “We’ll be fine, but if anybody tries to touch you, stab them with this. Keep stabbing until they don’t move, and scream for me and Roth.”
He leaned down to hug him so tightly, it should have hurt, but it didn’t. Aspen clutched the dagger handle as he shook. If he couldn’t get off of the ship, he needed something. To his surprise, the touch helped to ground him a little since Oriel had also given him a weapon. He wasn’t completely helpless now thanks to him.
Oriel settled on the floor with him. They were against the foot of the bed, and the cabin was a bit bare. The Captain of the Windrunner probably ferried small groups of people around now and then for money.
“I know Captain Nalha from when I was a kid. Father took us boys on his ship to go out on the water. He usually takes people up and down the coast or transports stuff. I suspect he might have done, erm, a little piracy in his youth, but me and…and my two brothers visited a couple of times over the years. I wasn’t even sure if he’d be here now, and it was a stroke of luck that he was. West Bay isn’t safe for us, and I was trying to avoid a passenger ship. I promise we’ll be safe.”
“Out,” whispered Aspen. He needed air and openness.
Oriel helped him out to the tiny hallway and out to the deck. The gangplank had already been drawn up, and he slumped to the ground. The cabins for passengers were one structure with a hall cutting it in half which was normal. The Captain’s cabin was ahead of him, and he assumed the sailors probably had spots below deck since they often slung hammocks.
How was he supposed to be safe here with all of these men?
“Do you want to sit somewhere in particular?” asked Oriel.
Aspen shook off his hand and huddled against the wall as a man with a gold earring and leathery skin, brown from years in the sun, walked up.
“Sorry, I was busy, but you found your way.”
“Where’s Roth?”
“Oh, the red-haired guy? I said I was letting you have my cabin, and I guess he’ll be sleeping in there with you. He took the packs in. Who’s that?”
“That’s Aspen. A friend.”
“Come speak to me in private. There are too many ears out here.”
Oriel knelt by Aspen. “Do you want to stay out here or in your room?”
“Room.”
Like he was staying alone with all of these sailors. He could have sworn one had given him a look. He brushed off Oriel’s grip and went to hurry back to his cabin.
With a chair under the handle, he sat on the bunk and clutched the dagger as he watched the door for hours. How was he supposed to cope with a trip that lasted for days? The sway was also making him sick, not from the motion but from remembering the last time he’d felt that.
The chair wasn’t even that sturdy so that certainly didn’t help his nerves.
