up so we would have a place to sleep, or so Korhien told me,’ Tyrion said. ‘It seems we are honoured guests. The rightful owners are sleeping on the deck.’
‘I am not sure that I would rather not be there myself,’ said Teclis. He did not sound too good.
‘Are you all right?’ Tyrion asked looking closer. His brother looked sick again. He had gone a nasty shade of green.
‘I have not felt right since I got aboard this accursed vessel. There’s something about the way it sways that makes me feel very uncomfortable.’
‘Seasickness,’ said Tyrion. ‘I’ve heard some people get it.’
‘And I am one of them, and you are not. What a surprise! Normally I am so healthy and you are so feeble!’
‘If you don’t like it here, I can ask for us to be allowed to sleep on deck. This is more sheltered if rough weather comes though.’
‘Isha’s Blessing – don’t talk to me about rough weather. This is bad enough.’
‘It should only be for a few days, if we get decent winds, and there’s no reason we should not. Apparently they blow southerly at this time of year.’
‘You are becoming quite the sailor, brother.’
‘I’ve been listening to the sailors. I intend to learn what I can on this voyage. You never know when it might come in useful.’
‘My plan involves lying on my back here and hoping my stomach settles and the room stops spinning.’
‘I think they call this a cabin.’
‘They can call it what they like as long as it stops moving!’
Tyrion sprang into the upper bunk. The ceiling seemed very close above his head. It felt odd just to be lying there, with the boat gently rocking up and down as it moved. Aside from his nights camping with the hunters, he had never spent the night away from their father’s villa before. This was the first time he had ever slept in an actual bed that was not his own. The strangest thought of all was that even as he lay there, he was getting further and further away from home and closer and closer to Lothern, a city they had not seen since they were very small children.
It occurred to him then that this was what made ships such a swift way to travel. A boat did not move any faster than a horse, really. It could just keep on moving through the night if it needed to as long as there was someone on watch. Ships never got tired and they kept steadily moving towards their goal.
He was thinking that there was a lesson to be learned from this somewhere, when he drifted off to sleep.
Tyrion was woken by the rays of the sun beaming in through the cabin window and the sound of Teclis being noisily sick into the bucket beside his bunk. The smell was overpowering in this tiny cabin.
He lowered himself from the top bunk, being careful to avoid landing with his foot in the bucket. He waited for Teclis to finish and then tossed the contents out through the porthole. It took him a fair bit of time to unscrew the handles that held it in place, and he decided to leave it open to let the stink escape.
‘I was thinking that perhaps I should try flying next,’ said Teclis. ‘My head will probably fall off. Every mode of transportation I have tried so far has been worse than the last.’
‘You will get used to this. It might take a few days but your body will get over it.’
‘I sincerely hope so.’
‘You want to take a turn on deck and see if perhaps we can find some breakfast?’
‘A walk on deck, yes. Breakfast? What daemon possessed you to suggest such an infernal torture?’
‘Well I am hungry.’
‘And doubtless, as always, you will eat enough for the both of us.’
‘I will try, if I can find some food.’
He helped Teclis up onto the deck. Many of the crew were already up and about. They worked away, scrubbing and sanding the planking and coiling ropes. They clambered over the rigging, making adjustments to the sails on the orders of the ship’s officers. One of them sat in the crow’s nest, another stood watch by the great figurehead on the prow. It seemed like the seas around a ship took a great deal of watching.
As they came up out of the stairwell, Tyrion was aware that they were being stared at again. It was not just Teclis who was attracting the looks either,