Sayvensdee, the 7th of Frost, 768 A.E.
Sagira’s breaths clouded in front of her with each exhale, only to be swept away by the crisp sea breeze. Her arms were crossed in front of her, and she huddled deeply into a heavy wool blanket of Aynglican make that one of the sailors had generously provided her a few Dees ago. He had not asked for it back, and she was loath to surrender such a necessity anyway.
“I would say that the cold lends you a rather hale look, but your nose isn’t much redder even now than it usually is.” Nishan offered with a grin, sliding up beside her with a sort of relaxed ease that made Sagira frown. “Besides, you are a vibrant woman who has no need of weather’s color in her cheeks to make her look more enticing.”
“I’m not your next conquest, Nishan. You needn’t flatter me.” Sagira said in a tone that was just as cold as the weather.
“Alas, you mistake me for a flatterer. I merely speak the truth.”
“Is it the truth you speak to Rolf in the dark recesses of the ship that makes him so wroth?” Sagira asked accusingly.
Nishan chuckled and leaned on the rail. His unbound hair blew back from his face, and if Sagira’s coloring didn’t show much of the cold, his bronze skin did. His cheeks and nose were ruddy, and his hands were pale and obviously cold even though he had a heavy vest on.
Her eyes met his and she shivered. His brown eyes were flecked with gold, and they reminded her of nothing more than a dog’s eyes. There was something dark and predatory about Nishan that made him dangerous, but not unsavory. Some women would be strongly drawn to these eyes, she realized, but she was not some empty-headed maiden looking for a handsome fellow to bed down. She’d seen something of the world, and she knew without even looking in a mirror that her expression had hardness to it that only misfortune and a touch of cynicism could grant.
“Rolf is a passing amusement. He is so open and presents no mysteries. What he feels you can read on his face as plainly as if he carried a sign. I envy him his openness, for I could never be that way.” Nishan said, and there seemed to be genuine sentiments in his words.
“So, you tease and torment him? You’re hardly helping this group if you do so. We’re of a strange mix of clashing cultures, and outsiders provide enough divisive forces already. We do not need you causing troubles.”
“You speak wisdom, lady of the sands.” Nishan replied with a quick bow and a flourish that was at once both sincere and mocking.
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Sagira couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re intolerable.”
“So I have heard, but I am more loyal than my actions might suggest. You will never want for a better ally or a worse enemy than I.”
“Then I’d best stay on your good side.”
“There are easy ways to do that.” Nishan said suggestively.
Sagira did not rise to take that bait, knowing it would be all too easy, even if it were for nothing more than staying warm in the cold nights during the Saysuhn of White. Snow was not far off and already she could not stay as warm as she liked to be. Mornings brought stiffness of limbs and a dull sort of numbness that cold produced when one wasn’t adequately defended from it. “I’m sure you say that to all the runny-nosed women.” She sighed melodramatically. “You’re shameless and without any standards.”
“Do not say I did not offer, lady.”
“Were it a more heartfelt and exclusive offer, perhaps I’d have been intrigued. I have no use for your kind of men though, not in that way. I am only interested in what you can do for Anthea.”
“Then let us make love by proxy on her behalf at least?” Nishan grinned, his hands slipping into the folds of his vest to keep warm against his body. “With each conversation I care more for you I think.”
Sagira grunted in irritation. “Your mind has room for but one thought. You would twist any words to hear what you want to.”
“‘Tis a gift and a curse all in one.”
“More of the latter than the former I would think, except that Rumani women are perhaps more blind to a charmer than women of Elegius.”
Nishan nodded. “Perhaps, or maybe they just don’t stake such a high value on what they have to offer. I think, though, that if your eyes were not on another, you might think differently.”
Sagira didn’t need him to spell out the fact that she spent much of her time with Makan and it might be indicative of greater feelings. “As much as I enjoy our conversations and the witty banter, I am cold.”
“It’s the Saysuhn. You won’t be adequately warm again for sixty or seventy Dees. It only gets colder from here out.”
“Then let dreams of what might have been keep you warm. I think I will go seek out that ‘other person’ and let him keep me warm.” Sagira replied testily, leaving Nishan at the railing to bask in the freezing winds.
What she didn’t know was that this was exactly what Nishan wanted – quiet. Here among all of Anthea’s companions, he had begun hearing each of their heartbeats, as he grew more attached to the group. Each passing Dee made him increasingly attuned to their presences, and only in the freezing winds at the prow of the ship with the others hidden belowdecks from the elements could he gain any peace from them.
At the prow of the ship in the winds that chilled him to the bone, Anthea’s heartbeat was the only one he heard, and he secretly longed to hear it beat as strongly again as it had when she had been with him in Rummas. Would that ever happen again? Even in the time he’d spent at her bedside, he’d not been able to draw her out of her state of torpor.
Even the sailors were not out if he was, and they wore heavier clothing. Will alone sustained him. Yet for a man who had always lived his own way and chosen his own path, he did not mind that he finally needed something. It was a welcome change. Uman had provided for the faithful, he thought, touching his wrists together.
He stayed there until he could stand it no longer, and then he went back inside to the waiting thunder of heartbeats.
