They said Orholam himself watched over oaths. Kip hadn’t learned anything, and now they were going back.
“Hey,” Liv said, “why so glum?” She laid a hand on his arm, which tingled from the contact. They’d stopped at an empty place on the dock, down a ramp low to the water, and Commander Ironfist was drafting a luxin platform onto the water, the first building block of a scull.
“I, uh, I don’t know. Thinking about Tyrea makes me think about—” And from somewhere that Kip didn’t even know he had, tears tried to come up at the thought of his mother, dying. He pushed them away, diverted them to someone more worth mourning. “You know, I hope your father’s well, Liv. He was… he was always good to me.” He was the only one.
Yet even with Master Danavis, there had been a wall, a point past which he wouldn’t let Kip in. Was it just because of his own history that he had to keep secret? Or was there something deeper, something wrong with Kip?
“Kip,” Liv said. “It’s going to work out.”
He looked over at her and couldn’t help but smile. Orholam had never made a more beautiful woman. Liv could shame the sunset with her radiance. He fell into her dimples, hopeless. He looked away.
Little brother, he sneered at himself. Fun to joke around with, but not a man. The despair threatened to choke him completely.
“Thanks,” he managed to push past the lump in his throat. “Can I have a snack?” he asked Ironfist.
“Yes, of course,” the big man said.
“Great!”
“When we get back.”
“Hey!”
“Now shut it, the Lord Prism is here.”
All eyes still on him, Gavin stopped in front of Commander Ironfist. He looked at Ironfist’s pack. Neither said anything for a long time.
“You can’t come, I’m not taking a bodyguard,” Gavin said finally.
“I’m not coming with you,” Ironfist said.
“Then get off my scull.”
“I’m coming with Kip. He’s a member of the Prism’s family, and he’s entitled to protection.”
“You’re the commander of the Blackguard, you can’t possibly—”
“I can do what I deem appropriate to discharge the duties of the Blackguard. None may interfere with that. None.”
“You are a wily bastard, aren’t you?” Gavin said.
“It’s why I’m still here,” Ironfist said. “And quite possibly why you are, too.”
Gavin grunted. “You win, but let me remind you of your oaths.”
Ironfist looked offended.
“You’ll understand soon,” Gavin said. “Everyone, load up.”
With a quick, practiced hand, Gavin drafted a set of the special oars he used to propel the scull, but he clearly left room for Ironfist to draft his own, which he did, albeit much more slowly. Meanwhile, Gavin drafted a bench for Kip and Liv to sit on, and straps to hold all the bags in the boat.
Ironfist wrinkled his nose at that, as if wondering why the bags would need to be strapped in, but he didn’t ask. In moments, they were off. Gavin manned his oars, and Ironfist manned his, and they sped out into the bay.
The scull began veering to port almost immediately. It was Gavin’s side. Kip realized Ironfist was rowing faster than Gavin, and the imbalance was driving them to port. Gavin looked over at Ironfist, who grinned back at him, continuing to sweep huge long strokes with his arms and legs. Gavin sped up. So did Ironfist. So did Gavin. Soon they were sculling across the water at a nice pace.
Liv looked over at Kip. “Can you believe this? I’ve never gone this fast!”
Kip laughed.
“What?” she asked.
“You’ll see.”
The men settled into a rhythm. They were going fast, competing, but neither trying to bury the other. “When are we going to meet your ship?” Ironfist asked, raising his voice to be heard over the wind.
“We’re going to cross the sea on this,” Gavin said.
Ironfist laughed. “Right. You’ve got more endurance than I thought!”
Kip grinned. The big Parian clearly didn’t believe Gavin, but was willing to play along.
After twenty minutes, they were out of sight of any other ships. Barely slowing in his rowing, Gavin lifted one hand up and drafted one of the great tubes Kip had seen him use to propel the skimmer earlier. Ironfist looked at it quizzically.
“This is what I meant about your oath,” Gavin said. “Secrecy.”
“A tube attached to another tube. Your secret is safe with me, O Prism,” Ironfist said, grinning. “I hope it gets us out of this port turn, though.”
Gavin dropped the tube into the water. The deck shuddered as the first luxin ball hit the water streaming through the tube, then, as it quickly settled into the whup-whup-whup that was familiar to Kip, the skimmer shot forward. The whole skimmer rose up, and Ironfist almost fell over as his oars came free of the water.
The skimmer sped up slowly and began to skip from one wave peak to the next, then the skips got longer and longer, and soon the platform stopped hitting the waves at all. After a time, the astounded Ironfist joined in and they skimmed even faster.
The water was so clear, Kip could see the tube cutting through the waves below them. Gavin had given each tube little wings. It was on those wings that the whole skimmer was flying above the surface. The wind was incredible, but Kip could hear Ironfist whooping over it.
Hours later, when the sun was halfway to the horizon, Gavin decided to switch back to sculling before they came in sight of Garriston. As the skimmer settled back on the waves, Ironfist stepped away from his tube.
His face was a writ of wonder, awe. He actually physically trembled. Then he swept into an elaborate bow before Gavin. “My Lord Prism,” he said, “you have made the world small.”
Gavin bobbed his head, acknowledging the bow. “Small, maybe. Safe, no. Did you see a corvette over that way?”
Ironfist shook his head. Their watercraft, no longer lifted up by the action of the tubes, sat low in the water. But by the time Ironfist had drafted new oars, a corvette appeared, a league away, plowing right toward them. Ironfist cursed.
Gavin grinned recklessly. “So Kip, Liv, you ever fought pirates?”
Chapter 56
“Surely you’re joking,” Ironfist said. “My Lord Prism,” he added belatedly and not enthusiastically.
“Let’s go hunting,” Gavin said.
“My lord!” Ironfist said. “I can’t let you put yourself in that sort of danger. We can outrun these Ilytian scum. They’re not threatening our mission or us.”
“Do you know what this summer is, Commander?” Gavin asked.
“I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
“It’s time for the Ruthgari handover of Garriston,” Liv said as if the words left a bad taste in her mouth.
“Do you know why she sounded so happy about that?” Gavin asked Ironfist.
“I’ve never served on this side of the Cerulean Sea,” Ironfist said.
“I’m sure you know that each country that sided with me during the False Prism’s War has rotating stewardship of Garriston.”
“Two years or something for each country, so no one gets long term designs on Tyrea. Can we have this conversation at a safer distance?” He glanced at the pirates. They were making good progress in the afternoon wind.