Free Masks of Scorpio by Alan Burt Akers Page B

could not be the right one — for any ship’s company sailing without palines to suck and chew on and to find the surcease those remarkable berries can bring, is a ship’s company in deep trouble — I was saved by Dayra’s breathless entry. I stood up.
    With all the cracking relish of a ship’s captain, Vylene snapped out: “You do not enter here without knocking and waiting, Ros the Claw! Now go—”
    “To hell with that! We’re all starving — and all we get is this!” She threw a biscuit onto the desk. “Hard tack! Weevilly biscuits and no palines!”
    Vylene handled herself well.
    “Go away at once, Ros the Claw, and I will forget this incident. You are subject to naval discipline aboard my ship. If you have come to appeal to the emperor—” Here she half-turned to look at me, and I fancied the gleam of a tinge of uncertainty caught at her.
    At once I said: “The lady Vylene commands here, Ros.”
    “But my guts ache!”
     
    “As do everyone’s. We shall be leaving soon. Now—”
    Dayra simply turned around and rushed from the cabin.
    Not prepared to continue this scene, I sat down again. What Vylene was thinking of my choice of traveling companions made uncomfortable reflections. It was clear that the alias of Ros the Claw well-concealed the identity of the Princess Dayra. As it should do, of course...
    Vylene did say, being human: “These Rosy ones, beloved of Dee Sheon. I must crave your forgiveness, majister.”
    I said, “If I write to the empress, can you make arrangements to deliver the letter into the right hands?”
    This was an appropriate moment for the subject.
    She looked at me, a strong, competent, firm-faced woman in her rags of uniform.
    “I am of the Sisters of the Sword. I will call Sosie ti Vendleheim for you.”
    I nodded and sat down to the sweetest writing task any man may have in two worlds. Sosie came in and stood quietly waiting. She was just such a Sister of the Rose as so many of them were, lithe and limber, flushed with the graciousness of youth and high spirits, wearing her tatters with panache and with the marks of hard toil upon her. When I had finished I turned and said: “Sosie.”
    “Majister.”
    “I entrust to you this letter for the Empress Delia. You, I believe, will see it delivered safely.”
    “As Dee Sheon is my witness.”
    As she spoke she made that small secret sign. I nodded, satisfied, and handed the sealed packet across.
    When she had gone I stood up and stretched and said to Vylene: “I thank you for your courtesy, lady.
    Now I must be about my business.”
    “You will take the flier?”
    “Aye, Vylene. Aye, I will take the flier. She will be invaluable.” Then I outlined some of what was going on across in Port Marsilus, and finished: “So they continue to recruit an army there to invade southwest Vallia.”
    “We are on patrol against just such a threat.”
    “Good. But you’ll be sailing for Vondium directly.”
    “Yes. The yards will soon refit us.”
    I said: “One last boon before I go.” I touched the green cloth about my waist. “Have you a length of scarlet cloth in exchange for this?”
    Well, that was swiftly provided.
    Out on deck I saw Dayra with her head down talking to Sosie ti Vendleheim. My Val! but they looked splendid! As I walked across ready to go overside into the voller, Dayra looked up. Sosie moved away, discreetly, stuffing a packet into the remnants of her russet tunic. Dayra smiled at me.
     
    “Well, Jak! And are you ready now?”
    “Quite ready. You?”
    “Oh, aye,” and here she put the little finger of her left hand into her mouth and wriggled the nail around her teeth.
    “Didn’t your mother ever tell you—?” I began.
    “Yes. But you know how roast ponsho gets between the teeth!”
    “You little minx!”
    She laughed and hoicked a leg up and so slid down into the voller. When folk’s insides sound as cavernous as a bat hell then there are tricks aboard a ship to provide the necessaries... I