‘Maybe she has not been well,’ Brann suggested, noticing that the ship had started to rise and fall more violently. ‘The movement of the ship, sea-sickness, and things like that.’
The Captain laughed, a natural sound that was startlingly at odds with his grimly efficient appearance. ‘Oh, boy, if only I had your innocence around me more often. No, no, she has been at sea, with us and many others before us, for at least seventy years now – well, seventy that we know of. No, that reaction was something different, and powerful. Do you remember what she said?’
Brann nodded, not realising that he had stopped eating. ‘I cannot forget it. Do you want me to repeat it for you?’
The Captain sat down again. ‘No need. I, too, cannot remove it from my head.’ He leant back, running his hands through his now-unruly black hair.
Hesitantly, Brann asked, ‘Do you know what it means? All this talk of destiny and suchlike? Is it real?’
‘That you can be sure of,’ the Captain nodded. ‘If she says it, it is real – in some fashion or another. She sees future possibilities, but what actually transpires depends on so many things: random occurrences, decisions – considered and intuitive – of many people, twists of fate, the whims of the gods, and on, and on. So she cannot say what you will do, only what you will face. So, whatever happens to you, at many points you will have to decide what path to take. And one of those decisions, one of those paths, will be one on which hangs the fate of others. That she knows. What that decision will be, may not be decided yet – it may change several times according to the way your life goes between now and then.’
He sighed, then leant forward, his eyes boring into Brann as if gauging his reaction. ‘Everybody faces decisions on a daily basis. But in your case she knows that one moment of great import will come – and when she speaks of that, she speaks of importance to a great many people. Who are you? What is it that you offer? That you can offer? What are you?’
Brann felt himself go still. His tone was as dull as his feelings. But there was bitterness in the truth of the words. ‘I have no family. I have no life of my own. Your men saw to that. You made me what I am. I am nothing.’
An edge crept into the Captain’s voice, but too slight to tell whether it was from frustration or anger. ‘That may be your fate now, but according to Our Lady, it is not how you will be in time.’
Brann felt sick at the thought, lurching in an instant from a complete lack of care to overwhelming waves of emotion. It seemed as if the world was closing in on him, and he felt very small. Tears started to well up.
The Captain moved around the table and patted his shoulder, awkwardly. ‘If you want to, cry. Let it go. It is shock – you have been through much, and it will take a while to get over it, as she told you. If you want my advice, try to let it out – but not in front of the others. Weakness is not a good thing to show around here, but I guess you have worked that out for yourself.
‘I have worked with many warriors in my time, so I have seen many people go through what you are feeling just now. Some find it helps to take one day at a time. Treat everything you do as the most important thing in your life and devote yourself to it until it is done, then move on to the next.’ He laughed briefly. ‘You may end up an obsessive, but at least you’ll get through the days.’
Brann, however, did not cry but instead finished the last of the food and caught his plate as it threatened to slide from the table. The rising and falling of the ship had now been joined by what felt like a sideways buffeting, giving a distinct feeling of being tossed about by a playful giant.
‘Did something bad happen to you?’ he asked, taking a deep breath as if sucking his self-control back inside him. ‘Is that how you know what to do?’
The Captain stopped, his face set grimly. ‘Another piece of advice, boy. It is seldom beneficial to your health to pry. Try to avoid doing so.’ He grunted. ‘Anyhow, that is all. I merely wanted to make sure that you did not say anything to anyone – and I mean anyone – about Our Lady. The less that people know about her, and the more mystery that surrounds her, the more she is revered, or feared… and the better it is for her, for me and for the ship.
‘And it will be better for you, too, not to talk. You will find that, when someone is the subject of a prophecy, good or bad, small or great, it tends to breed jealousy and resentment. At the very least, others will never look at you for the person you are: you will just represent the prophecy to them.’
He walked to the door and shouted for Boar. Brann cast a look around the room, realising that he had been so intent on eating that he had never bothered to examine his surroundings. It was basic: a wooden bed, the desk and chairs, a long chest large enough for weapons and clothes and, curiously among the bare efficiency of the rest of the cabin, a small bookcase. He could not make out the titles of the books, but they looked both well-read and cared-for.
Then Boar had him gleefully back in his clutches and prepared to drag him roughly from the room, squeezing his arm so hard that Brann caught his breath.
‘Hope you don’t mind me holding so hard, only we don’t want you to fall over in the storm, do we?’ he growled happily at the boy. Brann thought that he would rather fall, but felt it wiser not to suggest it to Boar.
Before they could leave the room, however, a bell started to ring. The Captain froze in the doorway, holding one hand out behind him to tell Boar to stay where he was. A warrior skidded to a halt in front of the door, as others tumbled from below decks, weapon-bearing belts in their hands rather than having wasted time buckling them on until they could determine the nature of the alarm.
‘Pirates, Captain!’ the warrior shouted above the noise of the sea and the bell. ‘To the port side, and closing fast.’
‘How did they get so near?’ the Captain yelled back. ‘I gave strict orders to watch them and rouse me if they approached.’ He paused, and his eyes narrowed. ‘To port?’
The warrior wiped his soaking long hair away from his eyes and, with a practised hand, tied it behind his head as he spoke. He nodded, confirming the Captain’s suspicions. ‘That ship was a decoy, Captain. It moved closer, then dropped away. Then closer, then away, all the while to make us wonder. While we watched, the other one crept up on the other side. With no lights and dark hull and sails, they managed to stay under cover of the waves as they rose higher, whipped up by the storm as it came in from the wide sea, and fast with the wind behind it.’
The Captain nodded curtly. Whatever the reason, and no matter his anger at himself for allowing them to be duped, they had a situation to deal with. It had been admirable sailing, whoever his foe was, and if their fighting in any way matched that level of skill, they would have a job on their hands.
‘Get to your position,’ he shouted. ‘You too, Boar. You,’ he pointed at Brann, ‘stay here.’ He slammed the door shut. Brann raced over to it and opened it slightly. He was damned if he was going to miss whatever was going on. His right hand went instinctively to the hilt of the knife at the small of his back. Then his common sense took hold and he realised how ineffective the small weapon would be in anything that was about to transpire. Very quickly, however, his foolishness was overwhelmed by his curiosity, and he returned his attention to the scene unfolding beyond the door.
The Captain was roaring, ‘Cannick! Cannick!’ The old warrior appeared at his side. Despite having finished his shift at the steering oar only two hours beforehand, the Captain could see he was still one of the first on deck. ‘What’s the situation?’
‘Pirates, Captain,’ Cannick shouted. ‘One hundred yards out, and closing fast. Not enough time to arm the slaves. The other ship is not immediately within dangerous range, so I’ve readied the men for any attack from the one side, and I’ve sent the archers to the bow to oppose their crossbowmen.’
The Captain assessed the situation in a sweeping glance. ‘We cannot afford to arm the slaves, anyway; we need them to keep us steady in these waves. In any case, this weather will see that there will be no boarding unless