Whether the sewerage water was relatively fresh or not, whether Rasim was able to dry himself through magic or not, clean dry clothes after a bath were profoundly welcome. The food was even more so, even though it was strange. Fish, but different, oilier fish than Rasim was accustomed to, and meat from something Gontur called a rain deer when Rasim pointed at it curiously. A rain deer sounded like an animal that water witches might have use for, or that anyone in a desert might want to breed. It was gamey but tasty, and a welcome change after the fare on Donnin's ship.
He and Carley sat close together, with a solidarity born from worry. They had thought they might be reunited with Donnin's crew, but they'd been brought to a room of their own. It was far less impressive than the council room they'd visited, but warmer due to its smaller size, and much more comfortable. A wood table, gleaming with oil, was surrounded by cushioned chairs. The table and chairs were placed an equal distance from a low-banked fire as a large bed was, balancing the room's warmth nicely.
Rasim's whole body trembled with tiredness when he looked at the bed, so he'd chosen a chair with its back to the bed, and Carley had taken the chair beside him. Even knowing Gontur didn't speak the common tongue, they hunched together quietly, reluctant to even speculate about why the Northern queen had bothered with them herself.
They both startled when a knock came at the door, Carley sloshing her mead onto the table. Chagrined, she mopped it up as the door swung open. Rasim stood, nervousness churning his belly.
A bearded man not quite as tall or yellow-haired as the woman came in, glanced at them and the table, and helped himself to a mug that he filled with mead before flinging himself into a chair opposite them. The chair scooted back several inches and tipped onto two legs. The man swore, threw his weight back the other direction, and slurped mead off his hand as the chair settled down. Only then did he say, in the common language, "I'm Prince Lorens. You can call me Lorens. You spoke with my sister Inga earlier. Who are you?"
Rasim said, "I'm Rasim," at the same time Carley said, "Carley sona Donnin," and the Northern prince waved a hand in exasperation, nearly spilling his mead again. Rasim thought he was young, though his yellow beard helped to hide it. Younger than Inga, anyway, and she hadn't been old. The beard also helped to hide the fact that Lorens was more finely-featured than his sister: without the beard, he might have been almost pretty. Like Hassin, except with the color bleached out. Rasim wondered if women liked Lorens as much as they liked Hassin, but the prince interrupted his thoughts with another question. "Not your names, though yes, it's splendid to meet you, Rasim. Carley."
The smile he gave Carley—and the one he got in return—suggested he was as good with girls as Rasim's shipmate. Rasim grinned and Carley blushed, glaring at Rasim like he'd done something wrong. Surprised and a little offended, Rasim folded his arms over his chest and scowled at the table. The prince shifted, making Rasim look at him again. Lorens's expression was curious, almost apologetic. "Who are you? Why, of all the men and women flying under that flag, did you sneak off the ship? You're one Ilyaran," he said to Rasim. "You don't belong on an islander ship at all, much less one flying a pirate flag."
"I got lost from my fleet," Rasim said stiffly. "A sea serpent dragged me away. Captain Donnin rescued me. Sort of."
Carley hissed, "Sort of? We rescued you entirely!"
"It's not much of a rescue if you're going to be sold into slavery the minute the chance arises," Rasim snapped back.
Clarity flowed across Lorens's face as swiftly as shock rushed over Carley's. The prince only said, "Go on," though, and Rasim, defiant with anger, said, "I'm a Seamasters' Guild journeyman. Captain Donnin thought I'd be worth enough to slavers that she could hire an army with the coin, so her crew could avenge their dead and try to rescue her daughter, who was kidnapped by a nobleman. I told her I'd talk my fleet into helping her if she'd just catch up to them, so we came north to find them."
"That," Lorens said after a moment, "is not quite the same story Donnin gave us."
Rasim, still angry, said, "I imagine not."
Carley finally rallied, her spine straight and eyes bright with indignation. "Captain Donnin would never—"
"Ask Markus," Rasim said flatly. "He's the one who warned me about the slavers. Do you really think she wouldn't have? You were already out there stealing water and lives. What's one more, if it rescues her daughter? I was afraid I wouldn't have a chance to tell what had happened if I was taken with the pirates," he said to Lorens. "I jumped overboard and brought Carley with me."
"As a hostage?"
Carley burst out laughing, outrage turning to surprised humor. "No. I didn't want to be caught either. A hostage? Really? I'm five inches taller than he is and weigh more. And I know more about using a sword than he does too."
Lorens shrugged. "And he's a witch. We might have listened, Rasim. You're the only Ilyaran on board, and your people aren't known for working for others."
It was as much opportunity as he might be granted. Rasim blurted, "But sometimes we ask for help. Please, where's Captain Asindo? Where's my fleet? We lost at least four to the serpent, but we can't have lost them all, we—"
It was as if Lorens hadn't heard his first comment about the serpent. The prince stiffened now, coming out of his casual position to sit straight in the chair. "You meant it, about the sea serpent?"
"We saw its body," Carley confessed. "Rasim said he killed it."
Lorens's face went long with surprise. "Did you, now. How?"
"I let it take me underwater and stabbed it through the eye," Rasim said shortly.
The prince stared at him wordlessly a few long moments, then made a brief expression of acknowledgment. "We'll have to add you to the mural. Lad, do you know they swim in pods? Where there's one there are usually three, sometimes five. We think they swim as families, with the young eventually leaving its parents to start a new pod. Lucky for sailors they seem to breed slowly, or the sea would be overrun and no ship would be safe."
Rasim's knees went weak as jelly. He fumbled for his chair, couldn't find it, and leaned on the table. His arms trembled with the effort of holding himself, but he couldn't even feel his legs, wouldn't believe they were still there if he didn't see his feet on the floor. He hadn't imagined more serpents. One had destroyed four or five ships in seconds. Three more could have wiped the fleet out while Rasim still fought the first.
Bad enough to have lost Kisia. The thought of having lost practically everyone he'd ever known overwhelmed Rasim. His arms gave way, too, and he sat down hard. Into his chair, which scraped across the floor unexpectedly and caught him behind the knees. He caught a glimpse of Carley's concerned face as he sat and thought she must have pushed the chair under him, but the rush of blood was like a riptide in his ears, and his vision filmed until he saw nothing but white water. He put his head down, trying to catch his breath, and distantly felt Carley pat his back in concern, then awkwardly withdraw.
His thoughts felt thick and slow, devastated by the idea of the fleet being gone. It took forever to manage a few raw words: "I...can I stay here? Until you send a ship south? I can work to earn my keep..."
"You are welcome to asylum in the Northlands as long as you need it," Lorens said gently. "Winter is coming and the harbors become ice-bound. If my mother allows it, we'll send a ship south immediately, to bring you home, but you may have to wait the winter out."
Rasim, blankly, said, "Your mother?"
"The queen. It will take a few days to get word to her. We share the royal duties between our two largest cities, and travel back and forth twice a year, but she went north again weeks ago. At least you'll be sailing from here, instead of there. They'll be frozen over soon, but we should have a little more time before the ice comes."
"He's a water witch," Carley muttered. "A little ice shouldn't stop him from sailing."
For once Rasim had no heart to argue about his lack of skills. He only nodded and drew his feet up, making himself as small on the chair as possible. Forehead against his knees, voice muffled, he said, "I made Donnin a promise. If the fleet is lost, the only people I can ask to keep it are your own, Prince Lorens. Would you even consider it?"
Carley made a sound of astonishment. Rasim lifted a dull gaze to watch her clap her mouth shut, but she then whispered, "Why would you even ask, if she was going to sell you?"
Sudden strong anger made Rasim's stomach twist with sickness. "Because I'm better than she is. Maybe I'm not brave enough to sail back with her, even if I promised her sea witches. Not alone, not when she wanted to sell me, but I can at least ask for help. Besides," he added more bitterly, "maybe if she gets home safely someone can put her on trial for acts of piracy. How many soldiers did your crew kill, out there on the sea?"
Carley looked away and Rasim's gut twisted again, loss souring any thought of apology. "Still, losing her lands, her people, her daughter, that wasn't her fault," he said in a low voice, to the Northern prince. "I know you have no reason to help her, but at the least her daughter doesn't deserve to have been taken, and she's done nothing wrong. A ship of Northmen would make a lot of recruited soldiers think twice about fighting."
"Your plea is noted," Lorens murmured. "You surprise me, Rasim. You'd be well within your rights to be more bloody-minded."
"Everyone I know is probably dead. How much more bloody do I need to get? Please, can I just be left alone for a while? I don't feel good."
Lorens stood, sympathy aging his youthful features. "No, I don't imagine you do. Carley, I'll bring you to your captain, if you wish, and myself or my sister will come to visit you again soon, Rasim."
Rasim nodded, and didn't watch as the others walked away.