The Complete Liveship Traders Trilogy: Ship of Magic, The Mad Ship, Ship of Destiny. Robin Hobb

The Complete Liveship Traders Trilogy: Ship of Magic, The Mad Ship, Ship of Destiny - Robin Hobb


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this messy domestic life and go back to… what? The ship? That was no escape any longer. She halted where she stood, until the dizzying misery could pass.

      ‘That was not discipline. It’s brawling, and it has no place in my home. Last night, I was willing to make some allowances for you. It had been a horrible day already, and Althea’s appearance was shocking. But this, inside my own walls, between blood-kin … no. Wintrow’s not a child any more, Kyle. Even if he were, a spanking would not have been the answer. He was not throwing a temper-tantrum, he was trying to make you see his side of things. One doesn’t spank a child for courteously voicing an opinion. Nor does one strike a man for it.’

      ‘You don’t understand,’ Kyle said flatly. ‘In a few days he’s going to be living aboard a ship, where opinions don’t matter unless they’re mine. He won’t have time to disagree. He won’t even have time to think. On a ship, a hand obeys, at that instant. Wintrow’s just had his first lesson in what happens if he doesn’t.’ In a quieter voice he added, ‘It just may save my son’s life some day.’

      Althea heard the scuff of his boots as he walked. ‘Come, get up, Keffria. He’ll come around in a few minutes, and when he does, I don’t want you fussing over him. Don’t encourage him in behaviour I won’t tolerate. If he thinks we’re divided on this, he’ll only fight it the more. And the more he fights it, the more times he’s going to meet the floor.’

      ‘I hate this,’ Keffria said in a small dull voice. ‘Why does it have to be this way? Why?’

      ‘It doesn’t,’ her mother said flatly. ‘And it won’t. I tell you this plainly, Kyle Haven, I won’t tolerate it. This family has never treated one another so, and we are not going to start on the day after Ephron’s death. Not in my home.’ Ronica Vestrit left no room for disagreement.

      It was the wrong tone to take with Kyle. Althea could have told her that. Setting herself up directly against him would only bring out the worst in him. It did.

      ‘Fine. As soon as he comes round, I’ll take him down to the ship. He can learn his manners there. Actually, that’s probably for the best anyway. If he learns a bit of the ship in port, he won’t have to scramble so hard when we’re under weigh. And I won’t have to listen to women argue with every order I give him.’

      ‘Aboard my ship or in my home,’ her mother began, but Kyle cut across her words with words of his own that made Althea both cold and hot with anger.

      ‘Keffria’s ship. And mine, as I am her husband. What happens aboard the Vivacia is no longer your affair, Ronica. For that matter, I believe by Bingtown laws of inheritance, this house is now hers as well. To run as we see fit.’

      There was a terrible silence. When Kyle spoke again, there was an offer of apology in his voice. ‘At least, it could be that way. To the detriment of all of us. I don’t propose a splitting of our ways, Ronica. Obviously the family will prosper best if we work together, from a common home towards a common goal. But I cannot do that with my hands tied. You must see it is so. You’ve done very well, for a woman, all these years. But times are changing, and Ephron should not have left you to cope with everything on your own. As much as I respected the man… perhaps because I respected the man, I must learn from his mistakes. I’m not going to just sail off into the sunset and tell Keffria to mind things and manage until I return. I have to make provisions now to be able to stay home and run things. Nor am I going to let Wintrow come aboard the Vivacia and behave like some spoiled prince. You’ve seen what became of Althea; she’s wilful and thoughtless of others to the point of uselessness. No, worse, to the point of doing damage to the family name and reputation. I’ll tell you bluntly, I don’t know if you two can draw the lines with her that need to be drawn. Perhaps the simplest thing to do with her would be to marry her off, preferably to a man who does not live in Bingtown…’

      Like a ship under full sail, Althea swept around the corner and into the room. ‘Would you care to mouth your insults to my face, Kyle?’

      He was not at all surprised to see her. ‘I thought I saw your shadow. How long have you been eavesdropping, little sister?’

      ‘Long enough to know that you intend no good for my family or our ship.’ Althea tried not to be rattled by his calmness. ‘Who do you think you are, to speak to my mother and sister so, calmly telling them what you plan to do, how you intend to come back and “run” things?’

      ‘I think I’m the man of this family now,’ he proclaimed bluntly.

      Althea smiled coldly. ‘You can be the man of this family all you like. But if you think you’re keeping my ship, you’re mistaken.’

      Kyle sighed dramatically. ‘I thought it was only your so-called Rain Wild kin that believed that saying a thing often enough can make it so,’ he observed sarcastically. ‘Little sister, you are such a fool. Not only does the common law of Bingtown recognize your sister as sole heir, but it was put into writing and signed by your father himself. Will you oppose even him in this?’

      His words disembowelled her. She felt that everything that had ever given her strength had been torn from her. She had almost managed to convince herself that yesterday had been an accident, that her father could never have consciously intended to take the ship from her. It had only been that he had been in great pain and dying. But to hear that it was in writing, and sealed by him… NO. Her eyes darted from Kyle to her mother and then back again. ‘I don’t care what my father was deceived into signing on his deathbed,’ she said in a low but furious voice. ‘I know that Vivacia is mine. Mine in a way you can never claim her, Kyle. And I tell you now, I will not be stopped until I have her under my command—’

      ‘Your command!’ Kyle gave a great bark of laughter. ‘You command a ship? You’re not even fit to serve aboard a ship. You have this great conceit about your abilities, this self-deception that you are some kind of a seaman. You’re not! Your father kept you aboard to keep you from getting into trouble on shore, as far as I can see. You’re not even a good sailor.’

      Althea opened her mouth to speak, but a groan from Wintrow, sprawled on the floor, turned all eyes that way. Keffria started forward, but Kyle stopped her with a gesture. Their mother ignored both his look and his hand, however, to go to the boy. He sat up, obviously dizzy, holding both hands to the sides of his head. With an effort he focused his eyes on his grandmother. ‘Am I all right?’ he asked her dazedly.

      ‘I hope so,’ she responded gravely. She gave a small sigh. ‘Althea, would you fetch me a cold, wet cloth?’

      ‘The boy is fine,’ Kyle proclaimed grumpily, but Althea ignored him. She stormed off down the hall to fetch her mother a wet rag, wondering all the time why she did so. She suspected her mother of having deceived her father, of getting him to sign something he never intended. So why did she so meekly obey her now? She didn’t know, save that perhaps it was to give herself a moment away from Kyle before she killed him.

      As she went down the hall to the pump room, she wondered what had become of her world. Never before had there been such doings in her home. People shouting at one another in her home was strange enough, but Kyle had knocked his own son cold on the floor. She still couldn’t believe it had happened. These things were too foreign to her, so shocking she had no idea how to deal with them or even what to feel. She doused a towel under the cold stream of water she pumped up, and wrung the cloth out well. A very nervous serving woman was lurking there in the water room.

      ‘Do you need my help?’ the woman all but whispered.

      ‘No. No, everything is under control. Captain Haven just had a bit of a temper-tantrum,’ Althea heard herself lie calmly. Under control, she thought to herself. It felt far from that to her. Instead she felt like she was a juggler’s club, flying through the air, not knowing what hand would next seize her and fling her into a rhythm. No hand, perhaps. Perhaps she would just go flying off, out of control, never again to be a part of her family’s pattern. She smiled bitterly at the ridiculous image, and put the wet cloth into an earthenware bowl before she bore it down the hall to the dining room. When she got there, Wintrow and her mother were seated at a corner of the low


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