Chapter Two – Part 12 – Departure
Night approached faster than Rhayd expected.
He, Kintere and Blackfang had spent much of the day helping the sailors unload the longboats as they came ashore – granted, Rhayd himself had mostly co-ordinated the unloading. It made good cover for his injury. Much as he hated being seen as the aloof, commanding presence he knew he was, he hated the idea of exposing his weakness more. That girl didn’t help either, with her constant glaring. She thought he didn’t notice, turned away whenever he looked at her, but he knew better. She was watching him, and not likely to tell him why, either.
“Why do you keep staring at her?” Kintere asked, toward dusk. “What did she do wrong now?”
“Nothing,” Rhayd forced himself to reply, marking off the ship’s manifest. It had been handed to him by one of the hands hours ago, since the man was looking to do more than cross off box numbers for the remainder of his day. “She didn’t do anything.”
“Well, you can hardly hold that against her,” Kintere huffed, getting it wrong again. “These boxes are heavy, I don’t blame her for sitting out of the work.”
Rhayd laughed.
“Leave it to you to pick the obvious problem,” he said, folding his arms over his chest as his friend hefted up yet another massive carton. “That’s not it. She keeps staring at me. What else am I supposed to do? She won’t tell me why if I ask, and she’ll give you an answer you don’t like if you ask. So I’ll leave it alone, and we’ll keep glaring at each other.”
“Some of the sailors think you’re making eyes at each other. For private reasons.”
Rhayd could hear the discontent in the big man’s voice – he sighed, turning his gaze to the clouds. They barely hid the bulk of Jag Har’Oah, the god glowing green high above. Jag would set within the hour, the sun had gone down an hour before. Then the work would end for the night, and Rhayd could let himself sleep, before the next leg of their journey began tomorrow.
“I can assure you, Tere, that’s not it.”
“Well good,” Kintere muttered, barely placated. “Because that wouldn’t be right.”
The big man left with his box, without giving Rhayd the chance to respond.
It was disappointing, whenever Rhayd learned Kintere had gained another conversational trick like walking away before retort. He always felt robbed of the chance to understand his friend better.
Ah well. At least it was work, not drink, Kintere left him for now. That would have to do.
Except he’d forgotten to get the number from the box Kintere had taken away to mark down on his list.
“That man is an eternal frustration,” he said to no one, and for once, was glad of the lack of response.