Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Blue Moon - 8. Chapter 8
Josel
The day was slowly turning to evening, for which Josel was grateful. The rain had started at midday, making it unpleasant to be out on deck. It forced Josel to spend his time indoors, which was rapidly becoming cramped.
It was also boring, because Ragart seemed to be running away from him after the Plinkinenkak scene. Captain Soldeimon had locked himself in his quarters, the sailors only talked to each other, and there was no more company from Marl or Melgy than two blocks of stone. Zal was a different story - Josel did his best to avoid the old man, for he had no desire to be cross-examined again. Especially after what Plinkinenkak had revealed.
The day could have been a lot less boring if Zdain had been himself. But the boy continued to give Josel a grumpy face and would not respond to attempts at conversation with more than a few words at most.
When they returned to the cabin at dusk, Josel was up to his neck in Zdain's sulking. As soon as the door closed, he blurted it all out: "I don't know what I've done to you, but hardly anything bad enough to deserve this kind of constant silent treatment. If you care so little for my company, I might as well ask Ragart to switch back to the same cabin with me. At least he talks to me, even if he snores like a wild boar."
As he spoke, Josel stared defiantly into Zdain's eyes, causing the boy to drop his gaze to his feet. "I have nothing against your company. It's not that..." Zdain muttered confusedly.
"Where then?" Josel asked, but he could not sound angry anymore.
"I've just had a bit of a bad day."
"What about yesterday?"
Zdain looked shyly at Josel and said: "That was even worse."
The answer slowly brought an amused smile to Josel's face. "Even worse? Only Monteilons could answer something so stupid," Josel said with warmth in his voice and a grin so wide that Zdain's face flushed red with embarrassment. Soon, however, a cautious smile crept to the corners of his mouth, and then Josel knew all was well again.
* * *
Moments later they were lying in their bunks, ready for the night. Josel decided to fill Zdain in on Plinkinenkak's story.
"Zal is a Fallen? I don't think so," Zdain said when Josel had finished.
"But Plink said that Zal was obsessed with the Fallen. Maybe he's spent so much time chasing them that he's gone mad and turned into one himself," Josel suggested.
"It is possible," Zdain mused aloud. "But better to wait until Five Hills and see what the people of Blue Moon have to say about Zal."
"Yes, my Dad certainly knows what Zal is like. And your parents too, I'm sure they'll be there to meet us... You don't talk much about them, by the way."
It took some time before Zdain replied in a quiet voice: "We're not on very good terms."
"Huh, why? You don't seem like someone who would cause his parents any trouble." There was no reply from the bottom bunk.
"Monteilon?" Josel asked. "You didn't answer anything."
"I couldn't think of anything to say," Zdain said, a melancholy note in his voice.
Something like sympathy fluttered strongly in Josel's chest. He was not quite sure, but he suspected that he had intruded into an area where the boy on the bottom bunk did not want him to go.
Nevertheless, it felt important not to leave the discussion there. So Josel said: "You know, Zdain, I think it's nice that we're getting along these days."
"Me too," Zdain replied as the last words before they fell asleep.
* * *
Zdain
Zdain Monteilon was searching for a way into Princess' cargo hold. It was the start of his first shift guarding Plinkinenkak. Although Josel had warned him about the woman's quick temper, Zdain was a little nervous. He had never been particularly good with new people, so the thought of a couple of hours with the hot-headed Southerner made him nervous.
Fortunately, Josel would be waiting in the hold and happened to get along with Plinkinenkak. If the previous guard had been, say, Ragart instead of Josel, the prisoner might have been in such a bad mood that she would have made Zdain's watch a torment.
It was Josel's third shift on watch. According to Josel, Plinkinenkak did not say anything particularly interesting after the first time. She had merely bad-mouthed Zal and his comrades, but otherwise refused to answer Josel's questions. The last two times Plinkinenkak had mostly slept. Zdain wished himself better luck, as they really needed to know more about Zal Fizol and his activities.
As Zdain made his way through the rolls of cloth to the back of the hold, he found that Plinkinenkak was at least awake. Josel had prepared him for how bad she looked after Ragart's beating. Still, the sight of her bruised face and bloodied white hair made Zdain sick.
So he quickly turned his attention to Josel. The boy was sitting casually cross-legged in front of his prisoner, seemingly unaware of his companion's arrival. This gave Zdain the opportunity to watch Josel for longer than usual. The short-sleeved shirt revealed Josel's wiry arms, their tanned skin contrasting nicely with his blond, wavy locks. In the darkness of the cargo hold, however, his hair lacked the golden glow that Zdain used to secretly admire in the sunlight.
There were so many other interesting things about Josel's appearance. Zdain liked his high cheekbones and medium sized, perhaps slightly upturned nose, as well as his light eyebrows. He had learned to read Josel's mood in his sky-blue eyes and knew how his lips sometimes curved into an irresistible smile. Josel's lithe, muscular body, on the other hand, caught Zdain's eye all too often.
In a word, Zdain was hopelessly smitten with Josel Sandkan and dreaded the moment when he would no longer be able to hide it. On the journey from Paidos to Ipalos, these feelings were still hidden behind the bickering. It was only in Marta's cellar that doubt had given way to understanding. After that the truth was not so easy to hide.
Luckily, Josel seemed to have a very slow wit when it came to noticing Zdain's infatuation. Even now, when Josel raised his eyes, a more mischievous smile than usual spread across his face, which Zdain knew to be his trickster's grin.
"The jailbird is in a bloodthirsty mood," Josel said. "I warned her not to gobble you up. There's not much to eat in your skin and bones."
Zdain was familiar with Josel's banter, so he was not offended. He retorted: "Just have a look at your own weight. Your appetite and the non-existent exercise facilities on this ship are a bad combination."
Getting up from the floor, Josel laughed happily at Zdain's remark. You wouldn't laugh anymore if you knew the truth, Zdain mused, turning to the prisoner.
Only now did he realise how tiny the dwarf really was. Barely the size of a man's waist, which might have been useful for a shade commando. One might have thought the diminutive and bound Plinkinenkak to be harmless, but only a glance into her cunning dark brown eyes revealed the truth. They stared so piercingly that Zdain flinched involuntarily. It was indeed fortunate that the woman was tied to the post.
"I leave the prisoner in your care. Be firm with her, but not too firm," Josel reminded, circling his - probably numb - shoulders.
Zdain nodded, though he wasn't sure he knew how to be strict with anyone. He wasn't made for guarding dangerous prisoners. Not like Marl Gaidok, who could crush any enemy with his trunk-sized arms.
Soon he was alone with Plinkinenkak. The paddle wheels were not sloshing because the crew had stopped Princess on the river for a while to refill the water tanks. The ship's steam engine ran in the background, but otherwise it was disturbingly quiet. Zdain found himself a seat on a fabric stack and glanced warily at the prisoner.
Their eyes locked. Plinkinenkak said nothing, just measured Zdain from heel to toe. Slowly, her lips, swollen from the beating, twisted into a wry, smug smile. Zdain swallowed, for there was something menacing and sly in the woman's smirk.
Suddenly, the steam engine rumbled louder, and Zdain longed for a familiar person near him. If only Josel had stayed in the hold. Now that an understanding had been reached, time flew by in his company, and even the dullest moments were filled with joy.
The emphatic "I see", said in a shrill voice, almost made Zdain jump out of his seat. "Wh-what?" he stammered.
"That's exactly what I mean. You're too shy. You won't get him if you don't pull yourself together."
"Get who?"
"Josel, of course. I saw the way you looked at him. It was easy to guess the rest," Plinkinenkak replied calmly, managing to shrug despite the ropes.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Zdain insisted, but his flushed face told a different story.
Plinkinenkak smirked again. "Yes you do. You have a crush on your blond friend and you're scared to death that he'll find out."
Zdain made no reply, just stared, dumbfounded. He was horrified and ashamed at the same time. How could a complete stranger have guessed one of his darkest secrets with a mere glance? Shade commandos must indeed be superior to ordinary people.
"How could you have noticed?" Zdain asked after a moment, reaching for his normal tone of voice.
"It was simple. I'm a good judge of character, sharp-eyed and clever. You are quite easy to read."
Zdain's ears were burning, but he made no reply. If he was so predictable, why hadn't Josel figured it out? Or had he?
It was a while before Plinkinenkak continued: "But I had another advantage on my side. I knew something else about you, Zdain Monteilon."
"You knew?"
"Yes. When I heard your first name in the basement of Faceless and the fact that you speak the Southern language, I began to wonder. It was dark and I couldn't see your face, but in South Andiol there can't be many boys named Zdain who speak my mother tongue. I asked you where you had learned it. Feeren ketenkuu, 'a friend taught', you said. 'Friend' is probably too mild a word for what Ade was to you. 'Lover' might be more accurate."
If Plinkinenkak's previous revelation had taken Zdain aback, now he had to fight twice as hard to get air into his lungs. "It's not like that," he managed to choke out.
The woman snorted. "Do you think I'm stupid, Zdain Monteilon? Ade told me all about you. A young upper-class boy falls in love with his bodyguard, a few years older than himself. How romantic, I was almost moved. Ade also described how he stuck his big cock into you. I didn't find that so romantic, but it was absolutely arousing. What was he like in bed? Tell me!" Plinkinenkak ended her speech with a series of giggles.
Zdain felt like he had died of shame. Everything she had just said was true, but how could the dwarf have known? Why had Ade revealed Zdain's most private secret to Plinkinenkak? And how did those two even know each other?
"Hehe, you're upset," Plinkinenkak continued. "I'll give you the answers in a moment, but wait a minute. My throat is dry, can you bring me some water? Josel left the cup next to you."
"I...won't...bring...you...anything," Zdain muttered slowly, staring at Plinkinenkak with a feeling of disgust.
"Now, be a good boy, or you won't get to hear the rest of the story."
Zdain blinked, then stood abruptly. He picked up the cup from the floor and thrusted it in front of Plinkinenkak's mouth.
The woman drank greedily and burped loudly when the cup was empty. "Ragart and Melgy never give me anything to drink. They don't want to hold the pot under me. Especially not when I kicked its contents into Ragart's lap."
Plinkinenkak grinned at her story, but Zdain was not amused. He was disgusted by the small, nefarious creature who knew things no one should know.
"Now you are angry with me," Plinkinenkak said. "You are so easy to read. But you're pretty even when you're angry. Although I was more fascinated by your brother, you were a bit too young then..."
"What do you know about Venr?" Zdain gasped.
"Is that his name? All I know about him is that he looks very charming. I would have loved to fool around with him, hehe. I spied on you two when I went to say hello to Ade. I wonder if it's been a year or a year and a half?"
"To say hello to Ade?"
"Sure I can visit my brother, even though I had to hide from the damn governor so you didn't see me... Yes, Adenolei is my brother, don't we look alike? Haha, or maybe I am a little shorter."
Ade and Plinkinenkak are siblings? It was a shock, but Zdain had no doubts about what he had heard. Instead, he felt very bad. Ade had gone to blab those secret moments of happiness to her sister. All Zdain wanted to do was end the conversation, run up the stairs to the deck and leave the disgustingly giggling dwarf alone in the hold.
Plinkinenkak was not finished yet. "When your friend Josel told me your surname, I was immediately sure that you were my brother's little toy. The Inhabited World can be a small place. Not only did I run into Zal's band of misfits, but I ran into you too, my cutie pie."
"Stop it, I don't want to hear any more of that bullshit!" Zdain snapped, looking away from the prisoner.
"Maybe I should talk to Josel about these things."
Zdain breathed heavily and did not know what to do.
"Nah!" Plinkinenkak exclaimed. "I don't think Josel would be happy. He'd be furious. He'd never agree to speak to you again. Is that what you want? That Josel never looks at you with those big blue eyes again, except with contempt. And never show his lovely smile to you. No, you don't want that, my boy, and that's why you're going to listen to me very carefully."
Zdain knew he was in trouble. Plinkinenkak held all the cards, just a few words to Josel about Zdain's feelings for him, or a story about Ade and Zdain sleeping together, and all would be lost. That was not what Zdain wanted, but neither did he want to be a part of what he sensed Plinkinenkak would soon extort from him.
"You want me to help you escape," Zdain said tensely.
"Clever boy! That's exactly what I want."
"I can't do that. Zal and the others will see your escape immediately and then they will kill me," Zdain explained, unable to hide his panic.
"Silly boy," Plinkinenkak snorted. "Where would I run from here? I don't even want to run yet. I have a mission to complete, and I'm going to hang around Zal's gang for a while. How long, I don't know yet. But when I want to leave, you'll be there to help me."
Zdain nodded resignedly. What could he do but obey? The situation bothered him and it showed on his face as Plinkinenkak laughed. "Haha, you are furious and rightly so. Zdain Monteilon, I have you in my grip and you can't get away."
Plinkinenkak's grinning ended in a scream when Zdain threw the drinking cup at her. It hit painfully against the dwarf's elbow, and the grimace on her face showed that the strike had hurt.
After a moment, a satisfied smile returned to Plinkinenkak's bruised face. Zdain could not bear to look at the woman he hated more and more every moment.
They sat in silence for the rest of the watch. Later, when Marl came to take his place on the watch, Plinkinenkak whispered so quietly that only Zdain could hear: "Help me if your secret is dear to you."
* * *
- 5
- 4
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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