Nabi closed the door after Brick left, her fingers working to twist and fasten all the locks that Anchor had in place.
The sounds of metal sliding and securing into place sounded louder in the empty abode, the cool morning air draping her shoulders with a slight chill. Nabi turned from the door, making her way back to the den, where she gathered the pot of tea that had gone cold overnight and the cup that was unused. She emptied out the water in the kitchen, then turned to the stove, where the stew she had made the night before had gone cold and thick. She had used new spices too, from their outing at the Shogatsu Festival. This batch was going to be much more flavorful than the ones she had been making for Anchor the last fortnight.
But he never returned from his meeting with Elam Grave.
"Even in this world of lies and deceit, there is a time and place and knowing of when and who to lie to. Saltborn failed at this, despite succeeding in many other areas. As part of the arrangement, he will be punished for his transgressions against that man and his own. I know not what awaits him. That is the truth of it."
Brick had delivered the news of Anchor’s fate in a matter-of-fact if not a bit subdued voice. Nabi had stayed up most of the night either wringing her hands or pacing nervously, waiting for the pirate’s return. It was on the rise of morning, when her eyes finally surrendered to the fatigue, that the au ra quartermaster paid a visit to Anchor’s home with the news.
Nabi recalled being unable to speak, much less breathe at first.
"Not any arrangement made by us, by any means." The quartermaster had smirked ruefully. "Saltborn did well in securing your possible freedom from this situation and also mending to the now tentative relationship between Grave the and Ironsong for future business. However, that man proved to be no fool. He was informed well ahead of time what had happened outside of Isari. As such, while he agreed to our comrade's terms, he sees a lesson to be taught. As it were."
Nabi could not accept that. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This began with her. Because she refused Grave. Anchor would never have been in this mess if it wasn’t for her. She would have never wanted this. She tried to press this upon the quartermaster, but it only made him turn cold as he rose to tower over her.
"Do not make me regret my words. And furthermore, do not waste the chance that has been given to you. One, I truly do believe, is not deserved. You were not to be my burden. Nor the Ironsong's. And, for I am certain, not Saltborn's. Just like everything else you've seen. You've heard. You've witnessed. You will forget. You will, or I will see you gone. That too--is the truth of it."
Nabi stared at the brown gravy that had curdled into a muddy consistency within the pot. She lifted it from the stove to put it away, but she stopped in front of the sink as a fleeting glimmer of shadows and light skirted over her hand. It was from the small fish bowl that she had set by the window, with two copperfish swimming within. She had caught one at the Shogatsu Festival by pure chance, and the second one Anchor had scooped up after much show and splash, once she challenged him that he could not. He had wanted to make them into stew, but she had instead found a glass vase to house them in. She was sure he was going to be annoyed by that...
She looked down to see her hand shaking. Hot tears began to flow down her cheeks even before she knew it, and she let the pot drop from her hands onto the cups and the dishes in the sink, loud clatter of ceramic shattering the stifling silence. An anguished cry left her lips as she gripped the edge of the sink, her head bowing over her hands. Her entire body was shaking and she felt guilt and despair twisting her insides.
Brick’s words had never left her thoughts, echoing painfully time and again. She shouldn’t have been his burden. If she had known that this was what awaited him… she would have never...
She was willing to go back. Work for for Grave. Accept whatever fate awaited. As long as no one else had to pay for her actions. The very thought that Anchor suffered in her stead made her stomach turn.
But when she made that offer to the quartermaster, Brick gave her back the letters, those she had written to her family and friends, the ones that were never sent.
"These are to those you care for, aye? Your mind is not thinking clearly. By any means. Your emotions are getting the better of you. Calm yourself. Consider again what has been offered. Consider the consequences of each." Brick exhaled, a look of resignation heavily drawing upon his features. "Also consider... your actions do not reflect onto Saltborn and what he has done to That Man. His people. Don't waste this."
Breaths came harder through her sobs. Her chest felt like it was being crushed with a vise. To help Anchor, she might put her family at risk. But to do nothing would mean he would be punished because he saved her.
Nabi released her hold on the sink, as she slid weakly down to the floor. Sorrow and regret poured freely from her cheeks, her stuttered breaths broken by sobs. Her heart was breaking into two and she did not know how to reconcile it.
How could she protect them both?
The sounds of metal sliding and securing into place sounded louder in the empty abode, the cool morning air draping her shoulders with a slight chill. Nabi turned from the door, making her way back to the den, where she gathered the pot of tea that had gone cold overnight and the cup that was unused. She emptied out the water in the kitchen, then turned to the stove, where the stew she had made the night before had gone cold and thick. She had used new spices too, from their outing at the Shogatsu Festival. This batch was going to be much more flavorful than the ones she had been making for Anchor the last fortnight.
But he never returned from his meeting with Elam Grave.
"Even in this world of lies and deceit, there is a time and place and knowing of when and who to lie to. Saltborn failed at this, despite succeeding in many other areas. As part of the arrangement, he will be punished for his transgressions against that man and his own. I know not what awaits him. That is the truth of it."
Brick had delivered the news of Anchor’s fate in a matter-of-fact if not a bit subdued voice. Nabi had stayed up most of the night either wringing her hands or pacing nervously, waiting for the pirate’s return. It was on the rise of morning, when her eyes finally surrendered to the fatigue, that the au ra quartermaster paid a visit to Anchor’s home with the news.
Nabi recalled being unable to speak, much less breathe at first.
"Not any arrangement made by us, by any means." The quartermaster had smirked ruefully. "Saltborn did well in securing your possible freedom from this situation and also mending to the now tentative relationship between Grave the and Ironsong for future business. However, that man proved to be no fool. He was informed well ahead of time what had happened outside of Isari. As such, while he agreed to our comrade's terms, he sees a lesson to be taught. As it were."
Nabi could not accept that. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This began with her. Because she refused Grave. Anchor would never have been in this mess if it wasn’t for her. She would have never wanted this. She tried to press this upon the quartermaster, but it only made him turn cold as he rose to tower over her.
"Do not make me regret my words. And furthermore, do not waste the chance that has been given to you. One, I truly do believe, is not deserved. You were not to be my burden. Nor the Ironsong's. And, for I am certain, not Saltborn's. Just like everything else you've seen. You've heard. You've witnessed. You will forget. You will, or I will see you gone. That too--is the truth of it."
Nabi stared at the brown gravy that had curdled into a muddy consistency within the pot. She lifted it from the stove to put it away, but she stopped in front of the sink as a fleeting glimmer of shadows and light skirted over her hand. It was from the small fish bowl that she had set by the window, with two copperfish swimming within. She had caught one at the Shogatsu Festival by pure chance, and the second one Anchor had scooped up after much show and splash, once she challenged him that he could not. He had wanted to make them into stew, but she had instead found a glass vase to house them in. She was sure he was going to be annoyed by that...
She looked down to see her hand shaking. Hot tears began to flow down her cheeks even before she knew it, and she let the pot drop from her hands onto the cups and the dishes in the sink, loud clatter of ceramic shattering the stifling silence. An anguished cry left her lips as she gripped the edge of the sink, her head bowing over her hands. Her entire body was shaking and she felt guilt and despair twisting her insides.
Brick’s words had never left her thoughts, echoing painfully time and again. She shouldn’t have been his burden. If she had known that this was what awaited him… she would have never...
She was willing to go back. Work for for Grave. Accept whatever fate awaited. As long as no one else had to pay for her actions. The very thought that Anchor suffered in her stead made her stomach turn.
But when she made that offer to the quartermaster, Brick gave her back the letters, those she had written to her family and friends, the ones that were never sent.
"These are to those you care for, aye? Your mind is not thinking clearly. By any means. Your emotions are getting the better of you. Calm yourself. Consider again what has been offered. Consider the consequences of each." Brick exhaled, a look of resignation heavily drawing upon his features. "Also consider... your actions do not reflect onto Saltborn and what he has done to That Man. His people. Don't waste this."
Breaths came harder through her sobs. Her chest felt like it was being crushed with a vise. To help Anchor, she might put her family at risk. But to do nothing would mean he would be punished because he saved her.
Nabi released her hold on the sink, as she slid weakly down to the floor. Sorrow and regret poured freely from her cheeks, her stuttered breaths broken by sobs. Her heart was breaking into two and she did not know how to reconcile it.
How could she protect them both?
