Kavin's World Read Free Page B

not blood, since I knew somehow that wine was what she wished; I poured it over the prow as the Luck took the water. Then I drank a sip of it myself and watched her as she came about, and shouted for joy at the sheer loveliness of her movement on the river water.
    It took work and time, but at last we had her rigged and sailing. By mistakes and pains I learned how to handle her, and trained a dozen fisher boys as well; we sailed her out of sight, beyond the skyrim and back again, half a dozen times. I was of age by then, and a bit more; but I never thought of tomorrow or the day after that. My uncle the Prince was a strong and healthy man; if I lived past my first youth it might be another nephew chosen at his death, by whoever was the Goddess-on-Earth at the time, and the prince seemed like enough to live that long. Among us, none older than twenty-five may be chosen prince, unless there is no choice.
    I had no desire to rule. That, as a few know all too well, is a task like a prison, and for life. I had never seen the face of she who might be the next representative of the good Goddess, for as Maiden it is always veiled. She was called Samala, I knew, and was, like all of them, very beautiful and very wise, and I wanted nothing at all to do with her.
    Then I became twenty, and much happened.
    There was to be a spring sailing of five fat merchant ships to carry goods to the coast in the west. With them, the Seabird, a fine warship, would sail also; and I gained permission to go with them, with my fine Luck, to see the trading ports again, and learn more of outland ways.
    The Luck was well cared for; I lavished on her, like a man with a sweet mistress, the best rigging, sails fine enough to be a lady’s cloak, and such. I had fitted her with four cannon, though I always mistrusted the things: one of small bore, as a chaser, and two more on side ports, and the fourth, of an odd design, fat and short, for casting firepots.
    On the trip west we sailed rings around the lumbering merchants, and raced at times with the oared warship, beating it handily. Such rigs as we used were not for hulls like our Doradan craft, but some were already being tried on fishing boats.
    Those were pleasant days, my last for a while.
    We spent some time in haggle-and-dicker work in the ports of the west. I roared and rollicked ashore, with my own bullyboys, playing the captain’s role to the hilt; and traded a few bits of cargo on my own, to good advantage. Then, my pockets full, I visited the local slave markets, thinking about a notion I’d lately had. I had a fair share of girls at home, one way and another, but I had caught the idea of owning one.
    The coast folk, of course, own slaves enough, especially since the new religions began to come in. For us in Dorada the practice is made quite difficult, since the Goddess does not approve of much connected with slave owning. I could, for instance, own a male slave captured in battle, or bought; but I would have to free him and place him in security whenever the Temple decided to set one of those holy days, which happened at least every fifteen years or so. I could kick him, but I couldn’t kill him, either.
    As for female slaves… well, the Goddess looks after her own kind. If I owned one, she would be free the instant she became pregnant, and I’d owe her a large sum, too. She would also be free if she so much as touched the pillars of the Temple gate, and in any case she’d be free— with the payment, as before—in seven years. You can see why slavery never became a problem with us. Only a wealthy man could afford it, and even for him it was a short-lived rule.
    But I had one of those youthful notions about the hidden charms, the unknown talents, of a foreign girl. There were more than enough to keep me busy at home; our girls are neither shy nor backward, particularly at the harvest festival. But… there it was.
    I visited one or two of the markets, seeing nothing that took my eye. Then, I