Chapter 1

How is it possible to sit next to the most beautiful woman in the world and still wish desperately that you were somewhere else? To watch all of the Seven Moons dance in the early dawn sky at the same time, making the air of early dawn a breath-taking, colorful spectacle, and still wish they would fall into the sea one after another?

The seasickness had not abated since we set out from Braghia three weeks ago. I was steadily growing pale and worn with hunger and fatigue as the Merry Dancer, oh what a fanciful name!, made good time along the Northern coast of the Olthan Sea. Because of fair wind we were heading west at a goodly speed; for each meal I had to offer to the fishes following the ship, we gained leagues. As I sat on the tilted deck and stared down into the green waters and the low, almost purple coast beyond I almost missed the two days we had to anchor up in a pleasant little cove to wait out bad wind conditions.

"Cheer up!" my slave Nightbreeze said and laughed out against the sky as she took in the scenery, leaning casually against the railing of the ship. "One vomit closer to Moy now! We will reach there soon! The crew say maybe even this evening!"

I turned towards her and looked at her, framed against the creaking tall masts and all those cursed, interfering rope they use on ships. She was beautiful. Her big black eyes were so deep and alluring as to have the same effect on me as about twenty cups of sweet, white wine. The eyes were framed by a spotless face with high cheekbones and dimples that would come out whenever she smiled, which was most of the time.

"When you bend over the railing there you remind me of a stubborn billy goat trying to reach that one, sweet-tasting flower on the other side of the fence."

Some weeks ago that face had been marred by a thieves' cross, that tar-smeared pair of lines cut into her forehead, as well as a wicked wound that had severed her lips and which had almost reached her eyes. But I was a Wanderer, and I was blessed with the gift of healing. It had taken three days, but I had managed to cure her. Her two front teeth, though, were still missing. But as my power seemed to grow, I had hopes that I could help her with those as well in time. And with seasickness, of course.

"There was Braghian style spiced fish for breakfast. Your favorite. Should I bring you some? No? Sure. No, I can't eat it myself, I am already full. Key, I don't want to shove it up my behind! You are very rude," she grinned evilly. "Do you think I look fat?"

When I bought her, Nightbreeze had been thin and gaunt, underfed by her previous owners. Now she looked like a real woman again with full hips that promised hours of ecstasy to every man who saw her. Not that it gave me any advantages, for I slept in the men's hold and she in the women's quarter. Which honestly didn't matter much, for I was not man enough to try to make a move on her. Which was unimportant right now, for in my present state I was only concerned with emptying my stomach and maintaining a foul taste in my mouth. And the less said about and attention given to the changes that had occurred on her chest by any other man than me, the better.

"Have you given more thought about what to do when we get to Moy?" she asked me when I chose not to answer that most dangerous of all questions.

I shook my head thoughtfully. No, I had not.

"Horge, the Wanderer Sleetspray left for Braghia on the Great Whale three days ago." Nightbreeze was reciting from memory the words from a piece of paper we had stolen from a firedancer we had fought. "He has to be seeking the Wind Maiden. The filth must be killed as soon as possible, and should not be allowed to leave for Moy and reach the Three Steps to Salvation. Spare no expense in seeking him out, and in making him burn. Call up the Semblance in the furnace of House Garoth for additional instructions."

"We have," I sighed deeply as the next gut-wrenching pang made me buckle over, "already deduced that you are the 'Wind Maiden'."