The Tree of Black and White (The Shadowdancer Chronicles, Book Two)

Chapter Two

Her skin was streaked with the soot of surviving the Sieltacor fires. Alyssa had never looked so beautiful. I will remember the evening we set sail from Osprey for the rest of my life. The setting sun could not compare, nor did the hint of sea salt in the cool evening breeze. Her hair flowed freely with the wind, framing her perfect face, enlivening her wondrous eyes. She looked to the horizon, as if the distance held all of the answers she had been searching for.

           “If I were a modest girl you might make me blush, my Prince of Panthos.” She smiled at me then, a smile that would have succeeded in making my knees wobble had I been standing.

              “I wish you would stop calling me that,” I replied.

Her eyes found mine then, and I had thought that she was beautiful before—she looked simply radiant. She tucked her chin in, guarding her smile, and laughed a quiet laugh. “I think there are many and more that take such titles, most of whom deserve none. You, on the other hand, are a true and noble prince, and I would find it troubling if no one cared to recognize it.”

            I moved closer to her, unsure of what to do next. “They will never call me their prince.”

            She frowned. “They will. They will scream it, whisper it; breathe life into your name with stories to their children, to their relatives and friends. They will write your name into the history books, etch your name into their stones. They will plead for you when they are lost, curse you when they are angered, but they will know you—Kareth, my prince, they will know your name.”

            “And what if I cannot give them what they seek?”

            Alyssa shrugged then, as if nothing could dampen her spirits. “You will do what you can, what you need to do.” And then she thought for a long moment before continuing. “To stand against injustice is honorable, my prince.”

            It was my turn to frown. “I do not wish to be honorable. I wish to avenge my people, to return Panthos to its rightful place. The Moon Throne should not perish by the actions of one man.” I stopped; the gravity of what had taken place those years ago gripped me in an unfamiliar way. “All of those people died…for what?”

            “You cannot think about such things. Let the gods contemplate the moral atrocities that man inflicts upon man. Right now all we should be thinking about is what we are to do once we land in the Sunken City with naught but our wits and my good looks to get us by.”

            I could not help but smile. “Oh but how your looks alone are all we need, my lady.”

            It seemed like forever since we were able to relax, but such a voyage was not meant for tranquility. In case one is unaware of the complexities involved with the piety of those who made the sea their home, it is important to understand that religion, or superstition—for there was little separating one from the other on the sea—was as important to a sailor as the wind in the sails and a good strong wine. Whether they called Panthos, the Isles, the Trypt, or the Vint their home, dry land was but a moniker—one that they were unfamiliar with—thus the gods of such lands were also unfamiliar gods. They gathered guidance from their own god, from Umbrial, the god of the sea. I tell you this because Red, whom I had completely forgotten about due to my infatuation with Alyssa, rejoined us that evening with a large portion of the crew in tow. They were a surly bunch with long, unhappy faces and tensed muscles. Red seemed in good cheer despite it all.

            “You brought a pagan on our ship,” said a particularly large and intimidating deckhand. He had a wide brow and a squared jaw that did not at all mesh with his sun and wind blown skin, his wrinkled eyes and bleached hair. The rest of the crew looked much like him, though in varying sizes. They were dressed in garb that was meant to billow, allowing the sea’s breeze to cool them as they worked. Some of the men did not wear shirts, whether because they preferred not to, or because they did not own one, I could not be sure.