A Court of Muses Page 3

“How did you know my name?” Alma asked.

  The captain reached into his pocket and stuffed his pipe with the practiced routine of someone who had been smoking for years. He was missing three of his fingers on one hand, but this didn’t seem to interfere with his task. “As captain, I make it my business to know everyone’s business. I have files on all the lads and their kin.”

  That was a savvy idea to have records on his personnel. Captain Arnfinnr had never been so thorough or organized. Errol supposed being informed was a good quality for a leader. Not that he could ever hope to be a leader himself. Most likely he would die in a battle before he ever rose to lieutenant.

  The captain squinted at Errol. “You don’t look much like brother and sister. This one is a runt.” He nodded to Alma.

  “I’m not a runt. I’m thirteen!” Her cheeks flushed pink.

  The twinkle in the captain’s eyes told Errol he enjoyed vexing people, but then Errol had gathered that much from working under him.

  “Your hair isn’t much alike either. Do you got different mothers?” The captain puffed on his pipe. “Ensign Errol’s mother was some pure-blooded royal lady, and yours wasn’t?”

  Alma balled up her fists. “We have the same mother and father. Not all siblings look alike.”

  Errol placed an arm around her shoulders, hoping to calm her. “I took after our mother, and Alma looks more like our father. We aren’t related to nobles, except very distantly.”

  Captain Manchester raised an eyebrow at that. “Is that so? You aren’t some rich noble’s tenth son that they didn’t know what to do with and they sent you into the navy because your elder brothers inherited all the land and titles?” The captain looked at him with sudden interest.

  That had been the case with some of Errol’s shipmates. It was always the young men who came from fine families who were the most spoiled. They complained the worst out of all the men.

  “If we came from a noble family, I imagine I would be enlisted,” Errol said. He was surprised his captain didn’t know this much about him already—he knew about Alma.

  “True enough.” The captain said around the pipe in his mouth. “Unless your family had a title but no money, as is sometimes the case.” Magic sparkled around his finger as he lit the tobacco. “Mayhap that explains why I could find so little about your family.”

  Using magic this way was a trick Errol hadn’t yet learned himself. So far, he’d only mastered skills related to water, sailing, tying and untying knots, and some defensive magic. The captain always assigned the youngest sailors the tasks they were worst at, either as punishment for being imperfect or as a learning experience. Last week, Errol had been learning about cannons and the magic needed to produce cannonballs that froze, set fire, or sent curses flying every which way.

  Or in some cases, every witch way.

  Alma shrugged away from Errol and tugged on the captain’s sleeve. “What if I did bind my breasts and change my name? Would you let me work on the ship with my brother?”

  “A ship is no place for a bonnie lass.” The captain puffed on his pipe. The odor coming from the tobacco was as foul as a skunk with a hint of coffee thrown in.

  “I’m not bonnie!” Alma crossed her arms.

  She was wrong. Errol should have considered that she was pretty, and others would see that in her.

  The captain harrumphed. “You must have plenty of other prospects, even if you aren’t of a noble family. Why don’t you work in some rich man’s house as a chambermaid?”

  Alma raised her chin in defiance. “I’m a kitchen maid, not a chambermaid. And I did try that, but… it didn’t work out.”

  “She’s too pretty, and the masters won’t keep their hands to themselves,” Errol said.

  The captain stooped closer to her face, puffing foul-smelling smoke at Alma. “Is that so? Or are you flirting with the masters in the hope of a raise?”

  Alma waved the smoke away. “I do not flirt!”

  “Are you certain you aren’t doing something that these men take as an invitation?” he asked.

  Alma’s cheeks flushed red. “Do you think I’m batting my eyelashes and giggling when they walk by?” She clenched her fists. “All it takes is being female for these swine to think that’s an invitation.”

  Errol hooked an arm around her shoulders and reeled her back. He was no happier than she was by the captain’s questions. He didn’t like someone implying his sister was a manipulative trollop.

  The captain chuckled, clearly not displeased by seeing her temper. It was the first time Errol had ever seen the captain laugh. This conversation was also far more words than the captain had ever exchanged with Errol.

  “I tell you what, Ensign Errol. You get your cousin, Cedric, properly attired, and he can serve as a cabin boy until we reach the capital in one week’s time. If the lad is willing to work for passage, doesn’t distract my men, and you keep an eye on him, I won’t throw him overboard.” His smile was wicked when he said it.

  Alma gulped. Errol was almost certain the captain meant it as a joke, but he couldn’t be sure.

  “Once we reach Caern, I have a few retired friends and some relatives who might have need of a kitchen maid.” The captain puffed on his pipe.

  Alma scooped up her cap from the deck and placed it on her head, beaming.

  “Oh, and by the way, Ensign.” The captain eyed Errol. “Each day, you’ll be swabbing the deck with the cabin boys as a consequence for trying to pull the wool over your captain’s eyes.”

  Errol considered himself fortunate the captain didn’t whip him, dock his pay, or do something worse. He couldn’t tell whether it was Alma’s wide blue eyes and innocent face that saved him or that he was such an exemplary shipman.

  He suspected it was the former as opposed to the latter.

  * * *

  Alma grumbled about cutting her hair short. Errol didn’t see what the difference was. As a maid, she had to wear it pinned back and hidden under a cap anyway. The captain wrote to his own kin and acquaintances to find Alma work in a modest home of an honest family. True to his word, Captain Manchester found an opening. The potential employer wasn’t an aristocrat, just a well-off merchant cousin of the captain who traded in Morty goods.

  The lady of the house offered hospitality to them when they came calling on her. A maid brought in a tea tray when Alma, Errol, and Captain Manchester sat with her in her parlor. She dressed more reasonably than an aristocrat, though her clothes were still a decadent brocade, and she wore her hair styled with elaborate curls. She eyed Errol’s silver hair with disdain.

  “They aren’t nobles, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Captain Manchester said quietly.

  Errol wondered whether that made a difference.

  “Oh?” The woman’s eyebrows rose in curiosity now.

  The visit was in between a social call and an interview as she questioned Alma about her experience and why she came with a lack of references. Alma squirmed under the woman’s unwavering gaze.

  “You have been employed in two households in three years. That doesn’t bode well for you,” Mistress Cadwynn said.

  Errol liked the woman’s directness and no-nonsense manner. She was like the officers he served under, though he could see Alma wasn’t used to the brisk manners of sea captains or their kin.

  The lady of the house listened to Alma recount her previous experiences in the other households. Errol didn’t think Alma was doing a very good job of explaining what scoundrels her former mistress and master had been.

  “It’s actually my fault,” Errol said. “I punched her employer’s son for trying to molest her.”

  Mistress Cadwynn lifted a hand to stop him, though she at least didn’t use magic on him to make him lose his voice. “I did not ask you. I asked your sister. She is the one I intend to hire. Let her do the speaking. Unless you intend to apply as a kitchen maid as well. . . .”

  Errol crossed his arms. He liked her
slightly less now.

  From the amusement in her eyes, Errol suspected Captain Manchester’s humor must have been inherited from his family. The captain slapped Errol on the shoulder.

  It wasn’t fair to make Alma talk when she was so shy, and the woman made her nervous. Plus, it was his fault she’d lost her employment. Mistress Cadwynn put Alma in an uncomfortable position to tattle on him when he was sitting right beside her.

  Alma recounted her experiences in a whisper-soft voice. Mistress Cadwynn listened without interruption as Alma spoke. When she’d finished, the mistress offered them biscuits from a silver platter.

  “Your experiences are far from uncommon for a young lady of your age and station,” the woman said. “My own daughters have found themselves in similar situations while in public, despite their social standing. I do not have any sons, and my husband died some time ago. We have few male servants, and though I tend to think they have enough sense not to behave so vulgarly in my house, I also believe they know I will not tolerate such tomfoolery either.”

  “You’re the merchant, then? Not your husband?” Errol asked in amazement. He didn’t know a lady could be a merchant.

  “Aye,” Captain Manchester said. “But she’s got bigger bullocks than most men.”

  “I will remind you, this is a house, not a ship where your sailor talk is appropriate.” Mistress Cadwynn arched an eyebrow upward and looked from Errol to the captain, as though she found them both to be utterly vexing.

  She turned her attention back to Alma. “If you are to work in this house, I expect you to perform your chores without complaint. It will be hard work. When I entertain guests and have dinner parties, the hours will be long and tiring. During the times the house isn’t preparing for a feast and you find yourself with idle hands, I expect my staff to educate themselves in magical skills that will better their abilities in work. For you, it might be cooking magic and alchemy, though I daresay some simple glamours and defensive enchantments will also come in handy should I send you to the market and you’re accosted by ruffians.”

  It sounded very similar to Captain Manchester’s expectations of his young recruits. He was stricter than Captain Arnfinnr and expected the men to be able to read, write, perform mathematics and astronomy, and better themselves with defensive magic. Errol had assumed it was a military strategy. Now he wondered whether the emphasis on education and self-improvement simply ran in the family.

  “I’m willing to do that,” Alma said. “I can do the work.”

  Errol bit into a biscuit, holding his tongue, though he wanted to tell the lady what a hard worker his sister was.

  “Good,” Mistress Cadwynn said. “You will start immediately. I will hire you on for a probationary period, and we can see how you do.” Her expression turned stern. “And I will remind you, I am a strict mistress. I have a curfew and do not permit my maids to have gentlemen suiters distracting them from their duties.

  Alma made a face. “Boys are disgusting!”

  “We’ll see if you still say that in a few years!” Captain Manchester laughed.

  * * *

  Errol noticed the change in the captain soon after they’d left Alma in the care of his cousin to work. Captain Manchester slapped Errol on the back and treated him like any of the other lads. Errol wasn’t sure whether it was his perception of the captain that had changed or the captain’s behavior toward him. He supposed the captain might have lost his perpetual scowl now that he’d gotten to know Errol and his kin. Or it could have been that the captain hadn’t liked Errol on account of his silver hair, thinking him an aristocrat, even though he wasn’t.

  The silver of Errol’s hair had saved him from being charged with punching a noble in the face when he’d assaulted the blockhead who had tried to get into his sister’s room at night, but it also had probably caused people to dislike him without him even knowing it.

  Over the next few years, Errol worked his way up in the ranks on the ship. Captain Manchester was friendly with him now. When they found themselves in the capitol’s port, the captain often went with him to visit. Errol stayed in the kitchen to visit Alma, while the captain took tea—or more often brandy—with his cousin in the parlor.

  Alma liked this job better than the last.

  “They work me hard, but I’m learning a great deal,” Alma told him. “And there aren’t any lecherous old men who try to grope me—except sometimes the guests when Mistress Cadwynn has dinner parties. The older maids showed me defensive magic for that—nothing that would do any permanent damage and get me in trouble. Just simple glamours to make myself look ugly so that men won’t bother me.”

  By the time Errol earned his way up to the position of lieutenant commander, another five years had passed, and he was fairly happy with his life. He had learned beneficial elemental magic, most of which was related to water and starlight, which he could use as fuel for fighting. The illusions he learned helped him in battle, though he still wasn’t as adept as some of the older Fae in the ranks. His work ethic impressed his captain and others.

  Errol could imagine himself working his way up to the rank of captain himself with more time and experience.

  One day, as a general inspected the ship, and the men lined up to greet him, General Hereweald stopped before Errol. He looked him up and down for so long, Errol wondered whether he’d misbuttoned his shirt or done something else wrong. The man’s eyes lingered on Errol’s hair, which he’d tied back behind his head as regulations mandated.

  “Name and rank,” the general said.

  Errol stated both loudly and clearly.

  The general harrumphed. “I thought as much.” He continued down the line, leaving Errol to wonder what he’d thought.

  The following day the captain called him into his cabin to break the news to Errol.

  “It appears you’re being transferred,” Captain Manchester said.

  “Excuse my asking, sir, but why? I didn’t ask to be transferred.”

  “Nor did I wish to lose such a promising officer.” The captain puffed on his pipe. “Sometimes these things happen. It’s never quite clear if they’re a blessing or a curse.” He handed Errol a note to read, signed by the king himself.

  Errol was to be transferred, not just to a different ship, but to a different branch of the military.

  “The air navy? I don’t know the first thing about manning an airship,” Errol protested.

  “I expect they’ll teach you.” The captain eyed Errol suspiciously. “Are you certain your mother wasn’t someone important? An escaped duchess or some such thing?”

  Errol shook his head. Both his parents had been leatherworkers. He could hardly believe King Viridios himself would take such an interest in him simply because his father had brought him to see the king all those years ago. And if he had, it seemed that he wouldn’t have punished Errol by transferring him to a completely different field.

  It had come when Errol had been starting to feel like he would be able to accomplish something in his life.

  Errol transferred to his new ship, a sky vessel with sails and hot-air balloons called the Mona Lisa. Errol didn’t like how the vessel lurched compared to a sea vessel. His new master, Captain Kenelm, was a jovial man who stank of brandy, even when he was on duty. He told Errol he would be starting from the bottom of the barrel, just like the new recruits.

  Errol found himself swabbing the decks with the ten-year-olds once again. It was humiliating enough being docked pay and being demoted, but he was completely inept at being an airman. He’d mastered water magic and naval tactics. The wind and sky were completely new adversaries. He learned to use new magical muscles he’d never exercised before. Many of the air sailors hailed from regions of the Faerie Realm with different dialects from what he was used to among seafaring sailors, and he suspected he would be learning new languages as well.

  A week later, he heard there had been a skirmish out at sea between Fae courts. The Raven Court
, Verde Court, and Silver Court navies had battled. It was hard to say who had won. Captain Manchester had died, as had many of his crew. Grief weighed Errol’s heart at the news.

  Errol owed the old sea dog so much. He’d helped Alma find a home and employment, and Errol hadn’t even been there for the captain in the end.

  * * *

  For ten years Errol worked tirelessly on board the Mona Lisa. Just as his father had instructed him, he did his best to be fair and kind to all—even when not everyone around him acted as honorably. Errol wouldn’t have a job at all if it hadn’t been the king’s first recommendation to make him into a cabin boy. As his father had once told him, he owed the king a debt. For that reason, Errol worked without complaint and served his king and kingdom with loyalty.

  He made friends and earned the respect of his superior officers, despite what they might have thought of him in the beginning with his silver hair. Other air sailors had taken wives or mistresses, but Errol had no time for a relationship. He saved his salary for Alma and made sure to visit her every time they were in port.

  He worked his way up the ranks, rising to the position of commander before the king himself came on board to inspect the vessel. The men stood in line as the king passed. Bees swarmed around the sovereign. Some crawled over his attire in intricate designs before shifting and revealing his armor underneath. The king shimmered with so much magic, it was difficult to stare at him long. Not that Errol was supposed to ogle, but he couldn’t help it in his nervousness. His hands were clammy in the king’s presence. At any moment, he expected King Viridios to look him up and down and decide to punish him again by demoting him to a new position in some other branch of the military.

  King Viridios’ boots thunked against the deck of the ship, the rhythm slow compared to Errol’s heartbeat. As the king strode closer, Errol noticed the way some men, the Witchkin in particular, glowed with illumination as their sovereign passed. The fragrance of hickory and pine emanated from the midshipman known for his artistic whittling of wood. The air around him tasted of creativity and the potential to carve a masterpiece.