Excerpted from Children of Earth and Sky by Guy Gavriel Kay Re-printed with permission from NAL, copyright © 2016 by Guy Gavriel Kay Danica looked over. It was very dark, black, really. Only because her eyesight was good could she make out the other woman’s shape, lying there. Tico was scratching at the door now, he’d have heard her voice. “I’m sorry. I woke you.” “I wasn’t asleep.” “They tell me I talk in my sleep.” “You shout. Warnings.” “I know. I dream about raiders sometimes.” The ship rose and fell gently, creaking. It seemed to be a calm morning, if it was morning. “Aren’t you the raiders?” What? Damn her for ignorant! No, zadek. She said aloud, “I grew up in a village that was burned by hadjuks. We fled to Senjan, three of us.” “I don’t know what hadjuks are.” It was odd, but Danica was pleased the other woman was speaking, finally. It shouldn’t have mattered, but they had killed her husband. “Osmanli brigands. From the mountains, mostly. They come down and attack farms or villages, sometimes a long way west. They take people for ransom, steal livestock. Children are carried away.” “Ransom? How terrible,” the other said, and the irony was unmissable. Damn her! She didn’t reply to him this time. Aloud, she said, “We were starving in Senjan, signora. Winter is always hard, and you blocked the sea channels and forbade even ordinary trade with the islands. It was intended to kill us. Did you know?” A silence. She went on. “You didn’t, did you? Why would you know? Why should a Seressini woman care about children dying in Senjan? Or in some village in the borderlands?” “I’m not from Seressa.” “So you said. Is that an answer? Or does everyone in Batiara just think of savages in Senjan and their women drinking blood?” “I didn’t know you drank blood.” First, faint hint of something else in her voice. You might call it wryness, even amusement. Danica realized she wanted to call it that. “Eat severed arms, too.” “Just Osmanli arms, I dare hope.” No missing the tone this time. “Of course. Mylasians, down your coast, taste very bitter, or so I’ve heard.” “We do?”
Danica hesitated. “I meant what I said before, signora. So did our leader, Bunic. He should not have killed your husband, our man.” “Doesn’t help much, knowing that. He’s still dead.” “Even if we killed one of our own?” “You did that–just your own decision.” “No. I did it for Senjan. For all of us.” “Truly?” “Truly, signora.” “Then why are you here now, alone?” Danica got up. She went to the door and opened it. Tico bustled in, large, shaggy, tail going fast. He pushed his head into her, then turned politely to greet the other woman, who was sitting up now. There was some light, coming down the near hatchway. Danica said, “You may have heard us talking about it? Someone needs to explain in Dubrava. Apologize. We don’t need to be hated even more. Your husband should not have died.” “But why is it you?” A hard question, that one. She said, “They all knew I did the right thing, there would have been bloodshed. The ship’s owner was drawing his sword to fight Kukar. Everything would have become bad. That needs to be said in Dubrava.” “But that doesn’t answer me. Your leaders know you did the right thing. Very well. But you are here, not going home. Dubrava might hand you over to Seressa. Or hang you themselves. Are you being sacrificed?” A clever woman. More than expected. Did it even matter? This one would be on the next ship back to Seressa, probably with compensation paid by both cities for the dead husband. They might even be on the same ship, Danica in irons. She said, “I couldn’t go back. The man I killed has a large family. I do not. Doing the right thing doesn’t always save you.” The Senjani, Leonora thought, was more intelligent than expected. It occurred to her that she’d made some too-quick guesses about the other woman. It also occurred to her that if she was to deal with the world unprotected (and she was utterly unprotected), she’d have to be more careful about that. She extended a hand to the dog again and had her fingers licked. She’d grown up with hunting dogs. This wasn’t the largest she’d seen–her father had prided himself on his pack–but it was big. She had little doubt it would rip someone’s throat out defending the Senjani woman. That assumption she felt safe making. Her father had prided himself on his daughter in much the same way as his dogs, the thought came to her. Not a grief. Not any more. She was past that sorrow. There were newer ones. Someone was shouting up above, then they heard cheering. In the muted light the two women looked at each other. “That will be land sighted,” the Senjani said. “We’ve crossed. They will pray on deck now, having survived the sea.”
“Some survived,” Leonora said, then regretted it. She didn’t like that tone in her voice. The other woman only shrugged. “Do you want to go up? Pray with them?” She didn’t, but she was tired of being in this close darkness. It would be morning above. She looked at the woman across from her. She said, “I have been unfair to you, I think. What happened to Jacopo wasn’t your fault, and you did act, after.” “I acted for all of us.” “Yes, yes,” Leonora said, feeling impatient. “So you said. But no one else did, did they?” The Senjani woman smiled a little. “I had the bow.” Leonora found herself smiling back. “I suppose that’s true. May I know your name?” “I am Danica Gradek. I don’t think you’ll know me long.” “I have no idea. I’m Leonora Miucci. I am from Mylasia, not Seressa.” “I believed you. Why would you have lied?” Later, she would try to understand what that simple question had done to her, why she said what she said. There was no easy answer. This was young woman, as she was, among strangers and far from home, that was part of it. We don’t, Leonora would eventually decide, always do what we do for obvious reasons–or a life might be very different from what it became. “I didn’t lie about that,” she said. “But I’ve been lying since we came on board.” The other woman just looked at her, waiting. The dog turned from one of them to the other, tail still wagging, but uncertainly now. Something in the changed feeling. “I am not . . . I was sent . . .” Danica Gradek said calmly, “You were sent to spy for Seressa.” Leonora stared at her. “Is it so obvious?” “They do that. There was a spy in Senjan. There will be another soon enough. There will be Seressini-paid observers on the dock waiting for us in Dubrava. You are likely meant to report to them.” “No. Yes, I mean. But . . .” Leonora stood up. She took a breath. She said, “I was never married to him. To Miucci. There are reasons why I agreed. But I will not, I cannot go back to Seressa. I am alone.” Danica Gradek was a tall woman. With the dog beside her it made for a crowded chamber. She smiled at Leonora, then she laughed. “Alone? That’s two of us, then. Shall we see what we can do?”