That must have been very plain. Pekka said, “I think you’d better go.” She laughed-briefly. “In the romances, I’d throw yourself into your arms now, either because you were here and my husband wasn’t or because you made me so passionate, I couldn’t help myself. But life isn’t always like the romances. You did make me passionate-I’d be lying if I said anything else. It’s not enough, though, and I’m not going to let it be enough. I know where I belong.”
He heard the finality in that. He wished he were so sure of such things. He didn’t see that he could do anything but what she asked now. She looked relieved when he got up and started for the door. Relieved he was going? Or relieved he wasn’t making her make hard choices? He wished he could believe the latter. Every fiber of him wanted to. Every nerve ending he had told him he’d be wrong if he did.
If only I hadn’t been after anything but seducing her, he thought as his hand fell on the latch. But if there were two more dismal words than if only in Lagoan-or Kuusaman, or classical Kaunian, or any other language-he was cursed if he knew what they were.
A band stood on the deck of the Habakkuk, thumping away in the emphatic style the Kaunian kingdoms favored. To Leino, the Jelgavan royal hymn sounded like a lot of raucous noise. Not far away from him, Xavega twisted her face into a sneer. She looked pretty even while sneering, no mean feat. I really have been away from Pekka too long, Leino thought.
But looking at Xavega was more pleasant than looking at King Donalitu of Jelgava, whose presence aboard the Habakkuk occasioned the band. Donalitu was pudgy and graying. Neither his face nor his body seemed to match the splendid, dazzlingly bemedaled uniform he wore.
Xavega sneered at King Donalitu, too. Lagoas might be at war with Algarve, but that didn’t mean Lagoans loved and admired folk of Kaunian blood, any more than they loved and admired Kuusamans. As far as Leino could see, Lagoans loved and admired nobody but other Lagoans, and often not too many of them.
He didn’t love or particularly admire Xavega. All I want to do is get it in, he thought. She started to glance toward him. He looked away. He didn’t want to see her sneer aimed at him. He knew it would be, but he didn’t want to see it.
Captain Brunho, who commanded the Habakkuk, was also a Lagoan, which meant he towered more than half a head over Leino. He led King Don-alitu up to the Kuusaman mage and spoke in classical Kaunian: “Your Majesty, I present to you Leino of Kajaani, one of the sorcerers who designed and created this ship here.”
Leino bowed. “I am honored to meet you, your Majesty,” he said. It was at least theoretically true.
The exiled King of Jelgava looked him over. By Donalitu’s expression, what he saw didn’t much impress him-he could have given Xavega lessons in sneering. He said, “So you will help me get my throne back? You will help drive the filthy, barbarous usurper from the high place that is not his?”
“Uh, I will do what I can, your Majesty,” Leino said. Beside Donalitu, Captain Brunho turned a dull red: the color of hot iron. When Donalitu called Algarvians filthy barbarians, he also indirectly called Lagoans-his protectors, and another Algarvic people-filthy barbarians. He seemed unaware that might prove a problem. Odds were he’d been unaware of it ever since going into exile. Leino had no intention of being the one to enlighten him.
Donalitu said, “What good is this big icy boat? I hope I shall not catch cold here.”
Now Leino suspected he was turning a dull red. By all appearances, no one had ever taught Donalitu anything resembling manners. Maybe kings didn’t need them, though Leino had his doubts about that. Keeping a careful grip on his temper, he replied, “Habakkuk can carry many more dragons than any ordinary ship, your Majesty. This ship is also harder to damage than any of the ordinary sort.”
“But it will melt,” Donalitu exclaimed.
Patiently, Leino said, “Not if we have mages refreshing the ice-and we do.” Maybe no one had ever taught King Donalitu to think, either.
Donalitu turned to Captain Brunho and said, “I shall be glad to go back aboard a proper ship, a natural ship, when this inspection is done.”
“Aye, your Majesty.” Brunho’s face and voice were wooden.
Leino held his face straight, too, though it wasn’t easy. Donalitu assumed an iron ship was a natural ship. What kind of sense did that make, when ice floated and iron sank? He almost said as much, but somehow managed to keep his mouth shut.
Captain Brunho led the King of Jelgava off to inspect the dragonfliers and their mounts. With any luck at all, a dragon will bite off his head, Leino thought. That would do his kingdom some good. As soon as King Donalitu was out of earshot, or perhaps rather sooner, Xavega said something in Lagoan. The mages who spoke her language snickered. Not wanting to be left out, Leino asked, “What was that?” in classical Kaunian.
“I said, ‘What a horrid, stupid little man,’ “ she replied in the same tongue. In her loathing of Donalitu, she was willing to treat Leino as an equal. It was the first time she’d done that since the Algarvian leviathan-rider planted an egg on the Habakkuk. Plainly, she needed something drastic.
After what seemed like forever, King Donalitu left the iceberg-turned-dragon-hauler. He went down a rope ladder into a little patrol boat that took him back to the ley-line cruiser-the iron ship, the natural ship, Leino thought with amusement-in which he’d come out to visit Habakkuk. The cruiser sped away.
Leino waved after it. “Good-bye!” he called in classical Kaunian. “With any luck, we shall never see you again. Good-bye!”
“May it be so!” Xavega said. She beamed-she actually beamed-at Leino. His hopes, or something close to his hopes, rose. Common sense quashed that. Xavega’s smile wasn’t likely to show how much she liked him. It would show how much she despised Donalitu of Jelgava.
Captain Brunho came up behind them. “That will be enough of that,” he said. “That will be more than enough of that, in fact.”
“He insulted you, he insulted the ship, he insulted all of us, he is a moron,” Xavega snarled. “Are we supposed to put our lips on his posterior?”
“He is a king. He is an ally. He deserves respect,” Brunho said formally.
“Powers below eat him,” Xavega said. “Even Leino here could tell he is more like a leg of mutton than a proper man.”
A leg of mutton? Leino wondered. Maybe it was a Lagoan insult, translated literally. Maybe it just meant Xavega’s command of classical Kaunian wasn’t quite so good as she thought it was. Whatever it was, Leino felt he had to say something, and did: “The land of the Seven Princes would be ashamed to have him as one of the Seven.”
“You are welcome to your opinion,” Brunho said. “You are not welcome to express it on my ship, not where others can hear it, not where it can affect the morale of my crew.”
“You would not have a ship-you would not have this ship-if it were not for us mages,” Xavega pointed out.
“That is true. But I do have it now.”
Maybe such relentless precision made Brunho a good captain. For his sake, for Habakkuk’s sake, Leino hoped so. Nevertheless, he observed, “Bringing King Donalitu aboard will do more to hurt morale than I could if I talked for a month.”
Xavega laughed and clapped her hands and nodded. Captain Brunho stared down at Leino out of cold green eyes. “This was done at the command of my sovereign, King Vitor. I prefer his opinion to yours.” He swung that disapproving stare toward Xavega. “ King Vitor is your sovereign, too, in case you have forgotten.”
“I remember perfectly well,” she snapped. “But if he approves of that Donalitu creature, he has less in the way of taste than I would have thought.” She flounced off. Leino watched her do it. He watched carefully.
Captain Brunho was made of stern stuff-he kept his attention on Leino. “You mages are an insubordinate lot,” he said.
“Thank you,” Leino answered. Whatever Brunho had been expecting by way of a reply, that wasn’t it. He spun on his heel-carefully, so as not to fall on the icy deck of the Habakkuk-and stalked away.
Before long, Leino went below to serve a shift fighting Habakkuk’s unfortunate tendency to melt. That tendency was more in evidence than ever lately, as the ship cruised the ley lines in warmer, more northerly waters. Without constant attention from mages, Habakkuk would have ceased to be. We aren‘t too insubordinate to keep you from swimming, Captain Brunho, Leino thought.
Xavega was also part of this anti-melting shift. The magecraft, by now, was routine, though it hadn’t been when Leino helped develop it down in the land of the Ice People. The sorcerers didn’t need to give it all their attention; they could gossip while they worked.
“A pity we have Donalitu for an ally,” Xavega said. “He would make a much better enemy.”
“He does think the world of himself, does he not?” Ramalho said, shaking his head. The Lagoan mage continued, “He thinks the world spins around him, too.”
“If you told him that back in Jelgava, you would have ended up in one of his dungeons faster than you could blink,” Essi remarked. Her hands never faltered in the passes she needed to support the spell.
“All the more reason for throwing him into one of those dungeons himself.” Xavega stopped reviling Donalitu in classical Kaunian long enough to chant her portion of the spell that kept Habakkuk solid-also in classical Kaunian.
“He is a useful tool against Algarve,” Ramalho said. “His countrymen dote on him.”
“Which only goes to prove Jelgavans are not so smart as they would have other people believe,” Leino said.
The other mages chuckled. Xavega said, “No one who has Donalitu for a king could be very smart. And if our precious Captain Brunho cannot see that, may the powers below eat him.” To Leino’s surprise, she nodded his way. “You could see it, whether Brunho could or not. Thank you for trying to get him to be sensible.”
“Er-you are welcome,” Leino answered in some surprise. She’d actually talked to him in friendly fashion. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that. For a moment, he couldn’t imagine why she’d done it. But that didn’t take long to figure out. He’d agreed with her about Donalitu, and he’d said as much to Captain Brunho ’s face. What could be more calculated to endear him to her than agreement? Nothing he could think of offhand.
As if to confirm that calculation, Xavega went on, “I had not realized you were such a sensible man.” The look she gave him was frankly appraising.
“I do my best to hide it,” Leino said, which made her laugh out loud. If I’m so sensible, why do I want to flip up her kilt? But there was more than one kind of sense, and he knew it. Bedding a good-looking woman needed no fancy justifications. It was its own best argument.
He performed his share of the maintenance spell with casual competence.