High time. She grabbed the rope that went down from the upper deck. She had strong arms from a lifetime of sailing. It was traditional for children of the Swan to be given a taste of seafaring from the time they were young enough to keep their balance on a rolling vessel, but no one had taken to shipboard life as eagerly as Mati. She first crossed the Strait of Malacca at the age of seven, sailing to Bali with an aunt. And thereon, she made such voyages every year. And it is not as if she travelled as a passenger, in comfort. No, she tied knots, raised and lowered sails, manned the crow’s nest, climbed masts, scrubbed desks, tended to the horses, caulked leaks, and learned to navigate by the ancient stars. Her captains said they had never seen such a natural sailor. She had sailed the Kalingan Sea for a decade as an oarsman, a quartermaster, and finally Captain of her own galley, before retiring to a desk. Good times.

She had travelled North on a business matter, to broker a deal for fishing canoes, when she had first met him. He’d come, a representative of the Council of Hundred of the Union, to complain about the high prices the Kalingans charged for their products. Nothing more insufferable than a man of duty, she remembered thinking. He was stiff and disciplined, with a jaw as unmovable as a mountain. Worst of all, he had some sort of immunity to winking and bribery. Mati had loathed him.

She had never thought much about love till then. One could thirst for coin, glory, or love, but could only possess two of them. And for her lovers were like servants, plentiful and easily forgotten. But just when she was surest of her imperviousness, love crept on her like an assassin, lurking under the table of documents, tariff sheets and contracts over which she and the Northerner discussed freight, levies and bribes. Just when it emerged to stab both of them in the heart, Mati could not tell, but the job had been clean and effective. The moths of trade had been replaced in a night with the butterflies of attraction. She knew land and sea did not mix. Sooner or later, she would have to leave him. She decided it had best be done on the morrow.

But the morrow never came.