voice to an intent whisper—“agree and I will allow you to journey with me. I offer nothing but hardship, judgement and pain from here on in and you may well hate me by the time we’re done. But at least you might have a chance at surviving this world, for I suspect it has many dangers in store for you.”
He watched her throat bulge and resentment steal over her features. He knew she was fighting the impulse to strike at him, hurl yet more abuse and declare her scornful rejection. But, if he had any real chance of teaching her, she would have to master her impulses.
After a few seconds of staring at him with bunched jaws and reddening skin, she gave a jerky nod of acceptance.
“I need your word,” Vaelin said. “State your agreement, Lady Ellese.”
“I . . .” She faltered and cleared her throat. “I agree to submit to your training, Lord Vaelin.”
He glanced over her shoulder at the shadowy confines of the rum store. “These quarters aren’t suitable. From now on you’ll sleep on the upper deck, regardless of the weather.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
Captain Veiser of the Sea Wasp was a tall, taciturn Renfaelin with a face that resembled a mask of weathered stone but for the occasional twitch. From the cowed demeanour of the transgressing sailors arrayed before him, Vaelin was struck by the realisation that they were more afraid of their captain than their Tower Lord. Veiser listened in silence to Vaelin’s account, which included a fulsome apology for the actions of his niece, before turning a cold eye on the sailors.
“Your punishment, my lord?” he enquired.
“It’s your ship, sir,” Vaelin said. “And they’re your men.” He glanced at Ellese, who stood nearby trying vainly to conceal her apprehension. It was clear to him she had no desire to witness another hanging. “Lady Ellese has indicated a desire for clemency,” he added. “However, I leave any punishment in your hands.”
“Lady Ellese is to be commended for her compassion,” Captain Veiser replied, his eyes never wavering from the sailors. They were arrayed in a line parallel to the beam of the ship, flanked on either side by the bosun and the third mate, both large men bearing cudgels. “However,” the captain went on, “in addition to the insult they dealt her, these men have also transgressed the ship’s rules as set down by the Honoured Trading House of Al Verin. All stowaways are to be brought immediately to the captain.”
He stepped closer to the sailors, voice hardening as he walked along the line. Vaelin noted how his face twitched with increasing energy as he spoke. “The Sea Wasp is a respectable vessel. She is not some flagless tub crewed by scum. Once my crew were all fine men. Once we sailed across half the world and did great service at the Battles of the Beacon and the Cut. But many were lost to the fires of war, and these days I am increasingly obliged to take on wretches such as this.”
This last was punctuated by a hard openhanded blow to the last man in line. From the way the man whimpered in response, Vaelin was forced to ponder the manner of Veiser’s command.
“The last man to breach house rules received ten strokes of the Crimson Duchess, as you may recall,” he said, stepping back, a contemplative frown on his brow as he turned to Vaelin. “Are you familiar with the Duchess, my lord?”
“I’ve heard of it. A many-thonged whip fashioned from the hide of the red shark, I believe.”
“Quite so. Cuts the skin of man like a dozen razors at once. The sight is really quite affecting. And not always fatal. Still.” He thought for a moment longer. “Since the good lady has made a plea for clemency we’ll leave it at a caning.” He turned to the bosun. “Ten strokes each. And no rum for the rest of the voyage. Any further transgressions and it’ll be a dozen strokes of the Duchess.”
The punishment took an hour to administer, each man taking his turn at being tied to the main mast to receive ten strokes of an ash cane. The bosun did his work without obvious relish, but also with a diligent efficiency that left each man on their knees with blood seeping from the welts on their back, weeping and gasping in pain. As the fifth transgressor was led to the mast, Ellese turned away and started towards the stern.