'Heboric,' the mage whispered.
The old man's head jerked around. He was drawing breath in rapid gasps.
'Tend to Baudin with that healing touch,' Kulp said quietly. We won't think about what comes with it. 'If you can ...'
'No,' Baudin growled, studying Heboric intently. 'Don't want your god's touch on me, old man.'
'Those joints need resetting,' Kulp said.
'Gesler can do it. The hard way.'
The corporal looked up, then nodded and moved over.
Felisin spoke. 'Where are we?'
Kulp shrugged. 'Not sure. But we're sinking.'
'She's stove through,' Stormy said. 'Four, five places.' The soldier stared down at the tattoos covering his thigh and frowned.
The young woman struggled to her feet, one hand reaching out to grip the charred mast. The slant of the deck had sharpened.
'She might capsize,' Stormy said, still studying the tattoos. 'Any time now.'
Kulp's warren subsided. He slumped in sudden exhaustion. He wouldn't last long in the water, he knew.
Baudin grunted as Gesler set the first finger of his right hand. The corporal spoke as he moved on to the next one. 'Rig up some casks, Stormy. If you can walk, that is. Divide up the fresh water among them. Felisin, get the emergency food stores – that's the chest on this side of the forecastle. Take the whole thing.' Baudin moaned as he set the next finger. 'Truth, you up to getting some bandages?'
His dry heaves having stopped a few moments earlier, the boy slowly pushed himself to his hands and knees and starting crawling aft.
Kulp glanced at Felisin. She had not moved in response to Gesler's orders and seemed to be debating a few choice words. 'Come on, lass,' Kulp said, rising, 'I'll give you a hand.'
Stormy's fears of capsizing were not realized: as the Ripath settled, the cant slowly diminished. Water had filled the hold and now lapped the hatch, thick as soup and pale blue in colour.
'Hood's breath,' Stormy said, 'we're sinking in goat's milk.'
'With a seasoning of brine,' Gesler added. He finished working on Baudin's hand. Truth joined them with a medic's kit.
'We won't have to go far,' Felisin said, her gaze off to starboard. Joining her, Kulp saw what she was looking at. A large ship sat motionless in the thick water less then fifty armspans away. It had twin banks of oars, hanging down listlessly. A single rudder was visible. There were three masts, the main and fore both rigged with tattered square sails, the mizzen mast with the shredded remnants of a lateen. There was no sign of life.
Baudin, his right hand now a blunt bandaged lump, joined them, the corporal a step behind. The one-eared man grunted. 'That's a Quon dromon. Pre-Imperial.'
'You know your ships,' Gesler said, giving the man a sharp glance.
Baudin shrugged. 'I worked in a prison gang, scuttling the republic's fleet in Quon Harbour. That was twenty years ago – Dassem had been using them to train his Marines—'
'I know,' Gesler said, his tone revealing first-hand knowledge.
'Young to be in a prison gang,' Stormy said from where he squatted amidst the water casks. 'You were what, ten? Fifteen?'
'Something like that,' Baudin said. 'And what got me there ain't your business, soldier.'
There was a long silence, then Gesler shook himself. 'You done, Stormy?'
'Aye, all rigged up.'
'All right, let's swim over before our lady makes her rush to the bottom. No gain if we end up all getting pulled down in her wake.'
'I ain't happy,' Stormy said as he eyed the dromon. 'That's right out of a tavern tale told at midnight. Could be Hood's Herald, could be cursed, plague-ridden—'
'Could be the only dry underfoot we'll find,' Gesler said. 'As for the rest, think of the tale you'll spin in the next tavern, Stormy. You'll have them pissing their pants and rushing off to the nearest temple for a blessing. You could set it up to take a cut from the avatars.'
'Well, maybe you ain't got enough brains to be scared of anything...'
The corporal grinned. 'Let's get wet, everyone. I hear noblewomen pay in gold for a bath like the one we're about to take. That right, lass?'
Felisin did not answer.
Kulp shook his head. 'You're just happy to be alive,' he said to Gesler.
'Damn right.'
The water was cool, strangely slick and not easy to swim through. The Ripath settled behind them, its decks awash. Then the mast leaned to one side, pausing a moment before sweeping down to the water. Within seconds it had slipped beneath the surface.
