Shael rolled the cigar between her fingers.
It was the last one she had, and since Nabi’s disappearance, she had refused to smoke it. Now that the Xaela was back, Shael had taken it out a few times, flipping it between her fingers, sometimes bringing it to her nose to take in the whiff of the leaves rolled within. But she didn’t light it. The indulgence didn’t feel right when the girl still seemed so out of sorts.
She cracked her neck side to side, trying to loosen the tightness in her shoulders. She pulled her leather jacket in closer, drawing the fur collar tighter around her neck. Doma’s winter was colder than she remembered. It wasn’t the frigid tundra that was Coerthas, but the moisture in the air always made it seem like the cold and the rain were more stagnant and insidious.
Or perhaps it was the waiting that made her tense. An old Doman contact, from years back when she smuggled weapons into the occupied land to aid the Doman Liberation Front, was late. Yasukata had gone into his own business of selling weapons with her help, and now that Doma was free, he was dealing with the Doman lords who wanted to arm their soldiers. He wasn’t a big fish in the sea of arms trade, as far as she knew, but he had contacts that she did not. And he was competition, amongst many, for Elam Grave. Perhaps he would be willing to help her dig up the whereabouts of Saltborn where other contacts were unwilling.
Although... the longer she waited, Shael found herself asking why she was doing this at all.
Perhaps it was the desperate plea she saw in Nabi’s eyes when she and Tserende finally retrieved the Xaela from Brick, the quartermaster to the Confederate ship, Ironsong. Nabi looked despondent over the fact that Saltborn had been taken by Graves after he protected her.
That was another thing she was still trying to wrap her mind around. What in swivin’ hells does Saltborn have to do with Nabi? And why was he even protecting her? She couldn’t for the life of her imagine an ornery man like him protecting anything but his own interest and his crew.
But Brick, the more civil and cool-headed of the Ironsong bunch, relayed a story that matched Nabi’s, much to her surprise.
"Saltborn's actions outside of Isari were not ones done with the approval of his crew. That and--I know not of his relations with this female, but her disposal is not an option he considers and neither is her continued existence locked away out of sight. He sought to amend both, offering trade for the girl's continued existence as she saw fit with the skillset of another alchemist known to our crew. That and, of course our continued employment."
Despite the fact that she had no love lost for Salborn’s woes, she couldn’t help but be a little irked that his crew was continuing to do business with the man that was likely going to have one of their own killed.
“I cannot risk more men by looking into the issue,†Brick told her evenly. “By the end of the sun, each and every sun, I must do my role aboard the Ironsong and seeing to what is best for the crew." Despite his resigned tone, his dissatisfaction with the situation was obvious. "That said, I know not if we will even receive word should his punishment result in death. Perhaps, should you hear anything, you may mention it."
What made her pause was the fact that Brick offered her coin for it. Of course she took it.
It annoyed her that she felt something akin to a debt to a caustic man like Saltborn. What annoyed her even more was that Nabi seemed so very invested in his well-being. What happened between those two?
Tserende didn’t seem much bothered by it, although he wasn’t the man to wear his emotions on his sleeves either. But they both had a clear understanding on one thing: Elam Grave was not long for this world. They were going to have to find a way to make sure he was no longer a threat to Nabi... or anyone, for that matter. Her hopes of trading favors had proven futile. It didn’t matter now that she wasn’t able to kill the Garlean he wanted dead, she had no doubt that the ruse of the fire and the dead Auri body would have happened regardless.
And that infuriated her more than all the rest.
As she saw a mounted rider approach, she held up her hand, pushing herself off the tree she had been leaning against. Yasukata was older; it had been years since they saw each other last, but the Doman greeted her with a smile and a bow when he slid off his horse.
Shael gave him her best grin, tucking the cigar back into her vest pocket. Hopefully, this meeting would give her what she was looking for, and she’d be able to smoke it soon.
It was the last one she had, and since Nabi’s disappearance, she had refused to smoke it. Now that the Xaela was back, Shael had taken it out a few times, flipping it between her fingers, sometimes bringing it to her nose to take in the whiff of the leaves rolled within. But she didn’t light it. The indulgence didn’t feel right when the girl still seemed so out of sorts.
She cracked her neck side to side, trying to loosen the tightness in her shoulders. She pulled her leather jacket in closer, drawing the fur collar tighter around her neck. Doma’s winter was colder than she remembered. It wasn’t the frigid tundra that was Coerthas, but the moisture in the air always made it seem like the cold and the rain were more stagnant and insidious.
Or perhaps it was the waiting that made her tense. An old Doman contact, from years back when she smuggled weapons into the occupied land to aid the Doman Liberation Front, was late. Yasukata had gone into his own business of selling weapons with her help, and now that Doma was free, he was dealing with the Doman lords who wanted to arm their soldiers. He wasn’t a big fish in the sea of arms trade, as far as she knew, but he had contacts that she did not. And he was competition, amongst many, for Elam Grave. Perhaps he would be willing to help her dig up the whereabouts of Saltborn where other contacts were unwilling.
Although... the longer she waited, Shael found herself asking why she was doing this at all.
Perhaps it was the desperate plea she saw in Nabi’s eyes when she and Tserende finally retrieved the Xaela from Brick, the quartermaster to the Confederate ship, Ironsong. Nabi looked despondent over the fact that Saltborn had been taken by Graves after he protected her.
That was another thing she was still trying to wrap her mind around. What in swivin’ hells does Saltborn have to do with Nabi? And why was he even protecting her? She couldn’t for the life of her imagine an ornery man like him protecting anything but his own interest and his crew.
But Brick, the more civil and cool-headed of the Ironsong bunch, relayed a story that matched Nabi’s, much to her surprise.
"Saltborn's actions outside of Isari were not ones done with the approval of his crew. That and--I know not of his relations with this female, but her disposal is not an option he considers and neither is her continued existence locked away out of sight. He sought to amend both, offering trade for the girl's continued existence as she saw fit with the skillset of another alchemist known to our crew. That and, of course our continued employment."
Despite the fact that she had no love lost for Salborn’s woes, she couldn’t help but be a little irked that his crew was continuing to do business with the man that was likely going to have one of their own killed.
“I cannot risk more men by looking into the issue,†Brick told her evenly. “By the end of the sun, each and every sun, I must do my role aboard the Ironsong and seeing to what is best for the crew." Despite his resigned tone, his dissatisfaction with the situation was obvious. "That said, I know not if we will even receive word should his punishment result in death. Perhaps, should you hear anything, you may mention it."
What made her pause was the fact that Brick offered her coin for it. Of course she took it.
It annoyed her that she felt something akin to a debt to a caustic man like Saltborn. What annoyed her even more was that Nabi seemed so very invested in his well-being. What happened between those two?
Tserende didn’t seem much bothered by it, although he wasn’t the man to wear his emotions on his sleeves either. But they both had a clear understanding on one thing: Elam Grave was not long for this world. They were going to have to find a way to make sure he was no longer a threat to Nabi... or anyone, for that matter. Her hopes of trading favors had proven futile. It didn’t matter now that she wasn’t able to kill the Garlean he wanted dead, she had no doubt that the ruse of the fire and the dead Auri body would have happened regardless.
And that infuriated her more than all the rest.
As she saw a mounted rider approach, she held up her hand, pushing herself off the tree she had been leaning against. Yasukata was older; it had been years since they saw each other last, but the Doman greeted her with a smile and a bow when he slid off his horse.
Shael gave him her best grin, tucking the cigar back into her vest pocket. Hopefully, this meeting would give her what she was looking for, and she’d be able to smoke it soon.
