Dawnshard (The Stormlight Archive, #3.5)(14)

“But he mentioned he was taking an investment position, didn’t he?” Rysn said. “He knew an appointment from the queen was going to come to him, and he wouldn’t be able to continue his expeditions. So he prepared you all ahead of time. He always watches out for the people he employs.”

The captain, not meeting Rysn’s eyes, gave an almost imperceptible hint of a nod.

Storms, that’s it. That’s why. Rysn’s sudden elevation, and her arrival on the ship as its new master, must have taken the entire crew by surprise. Vstim wouldn’t have prepared them for that, not when he hadn’t been certain Rysn would take the appointment.

All this day, Rysn had been thinking about how the ship wasn’t truly hers. Drlwan must have spent the entire previous voyage thinking the same exact thing.

“Is that all you need from me, Rebsk?” the captain asked.

“Yes,” Rysn said. “Thank you.”

The captain walked off to watch as her brother gathered the crew to relay Rysn’s order. Nikli, always trying to be helpful, brought her a cup of some orange wine, not intoxicating.

“You heard?” Rysn said.

“That they are spoiled children? Angry that someone would dare earn an appointment above them?”

“That is a shallow way of thinking of it, Nikli,” Rysn said, sipping the wine.

“I’m . . . sorry, Brightness. I’m merely trying to show you support.”

“You can support me without denigrating others,” Rysn said. “Think instead of how they must feel. You’re new to my employ, so you might not know my reputation.”

“I’ve heard you were a difficult apprentice.”

“Difficult?” Rysn said, smiling. “I was a spoiled child, Nikli. I complained about every expedition I went on, despite being shown the very best treatment by my master—one of the most renowned traders in the nation. The sailors who served Vstim would have seen firsthand the type of person I was then. Even if none of these did, they’d have heard.”

“Everyone acts a little entitled when young.”

“True,” Rysn said, “but you still wouldn’t be happy when that entitled youth was given the ship you thought would be yours.” She scratched Chiri-Chiri under the neck some more, earning a few quiet, contented chirps.

“So . . . what do we do?” Nikli asked.

“I do what Vstim did,” Rysn said. “Spend my life earning the trust of those around me. The captain likely thinks she could do the trademaster’s job, but she’d find negotiations far more difficult than she assumes. Vstim trusts me for a reason. I simply have to show the crew, through my actions, that his trust is well placed.”

“I don’t know, Brightness,” Nikli said. He turned to glance toward the crew gathered around the man-at-arms, who spoke to them loudly. “I think you’re giving them too much benefit of the doubt. I know how these sailors treated me during our previous trip. They don’t like me. I have odd tattoos, and I’m a foreigner. I tried talking to them, but . . .”

“A ship’s crew is a family,” Rysn said. “They can be hostile to outsiders. I’ve felt it too. But if you really want to feel like one of them, ask Flend—he’s the man on day shift in the eel’s nest—if he has ever seen a sailorspren.”

“What will that do?” Nikli asked, frowning.

“It should make him start a little hazing ritual they often put new sailors through. They love pranking new hands with that old trick.”

“Hazing,” Nikli said. “Brightness . . . I find the idea distasteful. We shouldn’t encourage such behavior.”

“Perhaps,” Rysn said. “At first I thought it was cruel. Then I heard about the old hazing rituals. They were often humiliating, sometimes dangerous. After talking to my babsk, I started to realize something. Sometimes you accept deals you don’t want, because they’re better than the alternative.

“In a perfect world, no one would get hazed. But when I read about attempts by the military to stamp the practice out, I learned that doing so caused more mishaps. Banning hazing made the sailors afraid of being discovered, but it didn’t stop them from acting on the sly with no warning, making it more dangerous. So several far safer practices were encouraged, with the officers turning a blind eye.”

“A compromise with morality,” Nikli said.

“An imperfect solution for an imperfect world,” Rysn said. “I won’t force you, of course. But if you want to get to know the others, give my suggestion a try. Play along with their prank, and I’ll increase your wages by whatever they bilk out of you—it won’t be much. They know not to push it too far.”

Nikli retreated, seeming thoughtful, as Kstled finally returned to the quarterdeck. The captain joined him as he reported to Rysn.

“Only three crewmembers took the offer, Rebsk,” he said. “And I think we can sail without them. We carry a larger complement these days in case of attack, and those two Radiants will more than make up for three lost swords. Though Nlan, the cook, was among the ones who decided to leave.”

“That presents a problem,” Drlwan said.

“I thought so as well,” Kstled said. “But the Radiants said one of their companions is an excellent cook. So we could use her.”