Beppin had listened with concern to Liao's version of the story regarding the stowaway woman. He saw Boris was too aggitated and he had heard that some of the men were teasing him during the watch, so he didn't talk with him anymore on this matter until he had the opportunity to learn from the woman's mouth if they were really in danger and how much.

The opportunity showed itself the next morning, during the forenoon watch. He had asked Thurenza first about the woman's health, learning that the fever still subsisted, but it was lower for now, and that the bandages had just been changed. Apparently, the woman was coherent and awake, and Boris had been given some tasks to do, so that Beppin could talk with her alone. He approached her, smiling at the sight of little Faxio keeping her company. Most likely, Boris had asked him to.

"You can go to Elouan for a new lesson," he told the boy. "Now I am staying with her."

The boy left as Beppin approached the hammock.

"Good morning. I am captain Beppin Pasqualigo. I think we have to talk a little," he said directly. "I am not sure how exaggerated some things arrived to me, so I prefer hearing directly from your mouth if we are in danger or not, and all the other details about you stowing away on my ship."

@Kat

Daciana had rather taken a liking to the boys that kept her company, but she was still leery of most of the adults on the ship. She was grateful to the healer, and was slowly warming up to Liao, but she didn't really trust any of them aside from Boris. Which meant that when Beppin entered to find her being entertained by Faxio, despite her face being drawn and tired thanks to her injury and subsequent fever, she also looked quite at ease.

That changed as soon as the man spoke. Something seemed to shutter her expression, an instinctive distrust of those she didn't know putting a somewhat suspicious gleam in her gaze, although her face was carefully devoid of any particular impression. It was a mask she'd had to wear too many times in her life, one she wanted to shed permanently. But if such a time as that was ever to come to pass, Daciana didn't know. Her hands tensed where they gripped her blanket as Beppin dismissed Faxio, and she nodded briskly when the captain introduced himself.

Lips pursed as the reason for his presence was made known. Well, she couldn't say she hadn't expected this, but that didn't mean she wanted to broach the subject. She was trying so hard to leave her past behind, but it didn't seem to want to let her go. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the small pang of pain in her side as she did so, she chose her words carefully before speaking them.

"That woman, Liao, doesn't seem the type to lie, so I believe she told you my story truthfully. As for your crew being in danger... I find it unlikely. Technically possible, yes, but the chance is slim. I did a very good job of making it appear as though the attempt on my life was successful, and I made sure not to leave a trail leading to your vessel."

This was a topic that broke through the mask, at last. A fiercely protective gleam filled her gaze as she straightened her shoulders, and her voice was stubborn as she attempted to fill it with steel. Somewhat difficult to do, given how weak she still was, but the effort was apparent.

"Boris had no idea I was here. I boarded in the night from the waters of the harbor, and hid myself away, thinking my wound wasn't as serious as it turned out to be. I understand you have to discipline him simply because I'm here, regardless of the truth, but I won't have you thinking he's lying about not knowing I stowed away. He's a good man, and I swear on my life, he didn't know."


@Elena

Beppin looked with attention at the woman, not missing the efforts to not show any emotion, neither the pursed lips at the idea to have to speak about uncomfortable subjects. Indeed, that woman wasn't lying. He trusted Liao. She had told him about the conversation, and her personal opinions about the woman and the genuine love between her and Boris. Also the worries about the potential danger they were all into. But when Daciana said that she had feigned her own death, without leaving a trace to the vessel, he believed her and he smiled for the first time since seeing her.

"Then it is all right. They have all the reasons to think you dead. We are going to return about mid-October the soonest. Do you think your enemies would still be in Venice by then? Could you do anything to your appearance not to be recognized by them anymore?"

The tone of the voice showed real concern for her well-being this time. And the way she looked and she spoke about Boris convinced him that there was, indeed, a strong bond between them.

"I have convinced myself already that he is a good man, otherwise he wouldn't have been hired, no matter that I was in need of crew. I believe you now that he didn't know about you until he discovered you. Tell me, though, if you were in my place, or in my crewmates', and you would hear such a story, how could you believe that the man didn't help his lover stow away in order to be together these long months?"

And how couldn't the others believe that they could do the same, was the next, unsaid question, always present in his mind. But now, the situation was how it was, and there was nothing else to do than accept her presence.

"Don't worry, you are safe aboard Colomba," he said on a softer tone. "Focus on healing, for now. If you want books to fend your boredom while awake, I can lend you a few. But with the little hawks watching you not to get feverish and not to need anything, I bet their incessant talking doesn't leave much time for boredom," he smiled again, knowing how talkative the boys were.

@Kat

That he believed her and didn't seem inclined to punish her, or worse, inflict yet more consequences upon Boris, made Daciana's veritably ruffled fur settle once more. The question of disguising herself was met with a confident nod.

"There are some items I can easily acquire in port that will allow me to change my appearance, at least until I can make certain they're not still hunting me in Venice."

She was well versed in how the use of certain herbs, dyes, and simple cosmetic pigments could radically alter the way someone looked, enough to throw off pursuers looking for an elfin woman with coppery curls. A frown marred her face when the captain spoke about Boris and the crew, her jaw clenching slightly as she gave her head a slight shake.

"I can't change their opinions, and I won't waste the effort in trying. But if you at least believe the truth, then my conscience is eased. Knowing that Boris pays for my actions is an uncomfortable burden to carry, one that is less weighty knowing that you understand he bears no guilt in this incident."

Only the guilt of knowing her, and loving her. It was a crime that bore a painful sentence, it seemed, as those who loved her always ended up suffering in some way. Daciana knew that Boris would likely lead a better, safer life without her, but for the first time in her life, she had the right to be selfish, and she couldn't bring herself to give him up. A small smile appeared at Beppin's mention of the children, and she nodded slightly.

"I enjoy talking to the boys. I haven't known many children, and they tell me many interesting things. But a book to read when they're not present would be appreciated. Thank you, Captain."

The woman was clever. If she had been an assassin – and it was not a matter of IF, because Beppin believed her, and with his experience at sea and arriving to different ports where hearing all kind of stories, he knew that women assassins existed, especially in the Far East – she couldn't have survived in that world otherwise. She could change her appearance when returning to Venice, to stay safe.

"There are still almost four months far away from Venice, when you shouldn't worry about this," he continued.

Of course nobody could change certain opinions.

"Yes, I believe you. Also, be at ease that he isn't paying as harshly. If you want to hear stories about the policy of captains from La Compagnie des Indes Orientales about stowaways, you might not like it. I am not that kind, and I am trying just to be fair. Certain tasks have to be done anyway. As for when you get strong enough – because you will get stronger in a few weeks – working with us aboard might ease the situation. Can you cook? Can you sew? Or what else can you do, besides… you know… your main trade?" he asked, attempting to avoid calling her profession by its name.

Mending sails and helping in the galley were the easiest tasks aboard. Things that during the voyage to London and back had been done by Margareta, but now… He found himself missing Fernand and Margareta's presence aboard, even if grateful for Thurenza and Aatami's. That was another dynamic though, and Daciana's and Boris' would be equally different.

"Of course, you won't be allowed to do anything before properly healed. Thurenza would decide, together with you, when you are ready to do the smallest thing. Until then, of course, you'll have some books. Do you read only French or also Venetian?" he wanted to know.

If she got able to work at a certain time, then it wouldn't make sense keeping anymore from Boris' wage as he had said. Only that the young sailor would have that part of the money given to him upon return to Venice. It wasn't necessary for the others to know that he had ended by not being actually fined.

@Kat

Though still silently displeased that Boris was paying for her crime, Daciana's expression settled into one of placidity, if not contentment, as she nodded her understanding. She knew he could've been consigned to even more unpleasant consequences, and there was no point in railing against what had been done, so she would do nothing. Not that she even could do anything, really, with how weak she was in the wake of her wound and the illness it had caused. She would focus on getting well and regaining her strength. It seemed the Captain was of a similar mind, judging by his question, to which she quickly offered a reply.

"I've served on board ships before, and I'm an able sailor if you need another body in a pinch. But yes, I can cook and sew and clean -- and mend nets and sails, and... Well, let's just say, there are many things I needed to learn how to do in my old life, so if there are any tasks you need doing, chances are good I can perform them."

Her tone was both a bit wry and more than a little bitter. Learning how to successfully appear like anything other than an assassin in order to get close to her targets and kill them may end up proving quite useful in her new life, but that didn't make the gaining of that knowledge any less distasteful to her. The several languages she knew fell under that same umbrella, but again, at least they would likely prove beneficial in the times to come. Perhaps even while she was still on the ship.

"French and Venetian are just some of the languages I know. Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Captain."


@Elena

Beppin was surprised that she had seamanship skills.

"I think, for now you are to focus on reading and recovering. When Thurenza will allow me to, I'll give you some sails to mend. This is something less taxing for a person recovering from a wound," he said. "And since you start working, you'll be in the accounts with a wage similar to the other crewmen, plus the share of profits payable back in Venice. Just to know that I am not a slaver and nobody is cheated into working for free aboard Colomba," he added, with a smile which proved that he was now at peace with the strange situation.

It would be as if he had hired her along the trip, actually.

"What foreign languages do you speak?" he asked, his curiousity being more than out of simple boredom.

He wanted to know if she was going to be useful during the trip through Portuguese-conquered African territories, first and foremost.

As Jean-Pierre was seen around, he shouted for the ship boy:

"Jean-Pierre, bring Daciana, from my cabin, the book you liked the most!" he sort of challenged the boy to make a choice. "The next choice of a lecture will be mine," he turned to the wounded woman, his disposition way better than when he had approached her first.

@Kat, @Kimmie

Boris finished the last of the tasks he needed to finish, mopping the sweat from his forehead as he began to limp quietly away from his work area. After pausing to quench thirst, he made his way to the sleeping quarters to check upon Daciana. He was not surprised to see that Beppin was standing nearby, for Daci had wanted to speak with him anyhow. Good, he thought as he approached the two.

“I hope I am not interrupting,” he murmured, moving around to the other side of the hammock she occupied and tenderly lifting one of her molten curls to rub between thumb and forefinger. He would have to resist the urge to press his lips to hers, it simply wouldn’t do to show his passion in front of the good captain.

“I was hoping to speak to you anyhow, Captain.” Funny, but nerves did not well up within his chest for the declaration he was about to make. He was feeling quite lofty, in fact, because Daci had already agreed to be his wife. Damn, but she had him feeling like he could climb the highest mountain and yell out his love for her so the whole world could hear.

His eyes moved to Beppin’s face after a moment of an almost, mesmerized stare to the one who he was enchanted by, and his expression returned to that impassive look… Never mind the fact that it wasn’t hard to see that he was soft for Daci, but he would damned sure try to still be manly about it.

He continued to rub the curls between his digits for a few moments more, then released them to take care of himself. He sat upon his hammock, pulling out the still, mostly full vial of the painkiller the doctor prescribed him, knocking back a small drink of it before putting it away.

"I speak nearly every prominent tongue found in Europe. If you need an interpreter in Africa, I'm confident I can fill that role, as long as you don't need someone who knows the native languages."

It was far easier to tell him what she didn't speak, rather than what she did, as that list was a lengthy one. Considering where they were headed, there were a few different languages that would be heard, depending on what region they ventured into, and she could speak them all. Even Arabic, although that was as close as she came to anything outside the scope of European languages. Being gifted in the different tongues of the world was necessary for an assassin, and although she wanted to forget that part of her life, she was hoping to turn what it had taught her to better uses now.

Thinking about her old life was the last thing she wanted to do, and that endeavor was made much easier with the arrival of Boris. There was no hiding or denying the way she lit up when she spotted him, a sparkle entering her eyes that had been missing before, and a bright smile appearing on her face as she breathed his name in a voice wreathed with joy.

"Boris. You're not interrupting at all. The captain and I have just come to an understanding."

Turning as much as she was able without pulling her stitches, Daciana captured his hand where it was playing with her hair, and drew it close so she could rub her cheek against his skin in a silent gesture of affection. He looked so tired, and once again, she felt a pang of guilt that her hasty decisions had given him such trouble. But it had also brought him to ask for her hand, and she could never regret that. Not wanting to make a display in front of the captain, she let go of his hand a few moments later, and glanced anxiously toward Beppin. She had no idea Boris was going to broach the idea of their marriage so soon, and she was eager to see how the captain would react.


@Kimmie @Elena

So she spoke Portuguese. That was his main concern.

”I am glad you speak Portuguese. It means we will need only a pilot from the locals, for the river transport,” he said.

And that might mean, in truth, one for each bigger part of the river, as there might be people who hadn’t made the whole journey. This he had been warned by Aatami, who was judging now differently his memories of a frightened child.

”Even gladder for Arabic, because it might be handy in some areas too.”

Jean-Pierre returned with Fenelon’s ”Adventures of Telemach”. Beppin approved of his choice, with a whide smile. He let the boy to hand the thick book to Daciana.

”This only if you take care not to overexhaust yourself,” the captain warned her at the same time. ”Your main task now is to rest and heal. Captain’s orders!”

The warm tone he said this on made clear that she was now regarded as one of the crew members.


”Indeed. We have just come to an understanding,” he confirmed. ”And I am ready to listen to what more you two have to tell me.”

He sort of had an idea what was that about… or not quite? Because his thoughts didn’t go as far as a quick marriage.

It was obvious that they were in love. It was also obvious that he was in pain, trying to hide it with a small drink from the bottle which had a label written in Latin. Not that Beppin didn’t know it must have contained, among other plants, a certain dose of laudanum too, since that was the most common pain reliever. He had needed it too once, after being attacked in Fort Dauphin… He would carry that scar for life, as a memory of the accursed encounter which could have costed him his life.

”How bad is your pain?” he asked, starting to have silent remorses if it proved that his punishment was too much for the man who was, himself, recovering from a wound.

"In the worst case, maybe in a few days I'll try to diminish it," he thought.

@Kimmie, @Kat