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Chapter Two: Favorable Tides
Few people were out and about so
early in the day. The small group crossed the grounds of the military compound
without incident.
Idris’s glance slid across a pair
of soldiers standing guard near the outer wall. He recognized one of them as a
young man who had come from the same village as Idris. Meic’s expression was a
mixture of curiosity and resentment as he watched Idris walk by. Idris gave him
a wide grin as they passed.
Meic’s eyes narrowed and he
determinedly turned away, as if indicating to Idris that he didn’t care what
the other was doing. Idris knew it was childish to goad Meic, but he enjoyed
doing it anyway.
I
hope that boy does not get into trouble while we are away, Iona commented.
Idris was taken aback by her
concern. Do you think it likely?
Iona considered her words
carefully. I think that youth are eager
to prove their worth, and they do not often count the cost.
Idris waited for her to go on, but
she fell silent. Her statement left Idris feeling unsettled, but he pushed the
sensation away. He knew he needed to focus on his present situation instead of
what Meic might do in the future.
Cowan led them down the path that
stretched through the city of Marath and down to the harbor. Idris felt his
stomach clench as he realized where they were heading. He had only been on a
boat once before in his life. It had not left a favorable impression.
Idris cleared his throat,
addressing his leader. “Do we have to travel by ship?”
Cowan’s sharp eyes rested on the
young man and a flicker of amusement passed over them. “Afraid of the ocean,
young farmer?”
Idris’s face flushed. “No,” he
answered quickly. “But the motion of the water makes me… ill.”
Cowan nodded in understanding. “I
have some herbs you can chew to help with that. A ship will get us to our
destination in half the time it would take traveling by land.”
Idris said no more, but the sinking
feeling didn’t go away. He knew that they were in a hurry, but it was almost
worth it to him to take the extra time and avoid the ocean.
Unlike the sleeping city, the
harbor was a bustle of activity. Fishermen were bringing their boats into the
docks, their nets filled with the day’s catch. Merchants were setting up their
booths for the day. Impoverished men and women hurried forward to offer their
services—doing any work that needed to be done in exchange for a fish or two.
“Which ship are we seeking?” asked
Aherin, glancing down the long row of docks.
To Idris’s surprise, Hildar was the
one that answered.
“That one,” she pointed.
Most of the ships in the harbor
looked sturdy and purely functional, made of weathered wood blackened with
pitch. The vessel that Hildar pointed out looked as different from the others
as a horse did from a pig.
The design was sleek and beautiful,
clearly made for speed. The wood was lacquered to look red, with dark green
accents painted along the railing and masts. The name of the ship was painted
in gold on the side. The letters were elaborate, and it took Idris—who had only
recently learned how to read—several seconds to figure out what it said.
Dagmar
“Is that one of your family’s
ships?” Aherin asked Hildar.
Her expression was rather rigid as
she replied, “It is mine.”
“You own a ship?” Idris was unable
to keep the disbelief from his voice.
A faint flush colored Hildar’s
cheeks. “It was a gift from my grandmother when I came of age.”
Two footmen in livery stood at the
bottom of the gangplank, their backs straight as nails. They gave elaborate
bows as Hildar approached; she nodded absently in acknowledgement.
“Who is Dagmar?” Idris asked,
staring at the gleaming letters.
Hildar stiffened, but didn’t turn
as she muttered, “She was my younger sister.”
The young woman hurriedly marched
up the gangplank, avoiding any further questions. Idris could have kicked
himself for his thoughtless question. His face burned with shame at the
inadvertent pain he had caused Hildar. Aherin shot Idris a sympathetic glance
before following Captain Cowan onto the ship.
Idris was reluctant to leave solid
ground, but he knew that he would be scolded if he delayed them needlessly. He
clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath, walking forward as if to his own
execution.
Hildar was standing just at the top
of the gangplank, waiting for the approach of a stocky man in a tidy uniform of
green and red. His black hair was streaked with grey, falling loosely around
his shoulders. His brown eyes crinkled around the edges, as if he habitually
squinted.
“My Lady Hildar, welcome to your
vessel,” he said in a brusque tone.
“Thank you, Captain Morn,” Hildar
responded carelessly. “I trust all is in order.”
“The tides are with us, m’lady,”
the ship captain answered. “We can depart at your command.”
“Have the horses been brought
aboard?” Cowan inquired.
“Yes, sir,” answered Morn.
“Prepare to set sail immediately,”
Hildar ordered.
“Very good, m’lady,” Morn
acknowledged with a bow. “Shall I have Lennon show you to your quarters?”
The sea captain gestured to a young
man standing just behind him. The youth had curly brown hair and liquid brown
eyes, with his intense gaze fixed on Hildar’s face.
Hildar waved her hand as she
brushed the suggestion aside. “I know my way,” she said, walking away without
looking at the young man.
Lennon’s lips tightened and anger
flashed through his eyes. The emotion quickly passed, leaving his expression
calm. “I doubt any of you know where
to go,” he said with a small smile. “Follow me.”
As they walked, he introduced
himself. “I am Lennon, the second-in-command on this fine vessel. If there is
anything you need during your journey, please feel free to ask for my
assistance.”
“You are quite young to have such a
post,” Cowan observed shrewdly.
Lennon nodded amiably. “Yes, it was
quite an honor to have Lady Hildar ask for my service.”
“She requested you for the
position?” Aherin asked with a sly smile creeping across his face.
“She did,” confirmed Lennon. “I
have known Lady Hildar since we were children. I suppose she wanted to help an
old friend begin his career.”
“That probably did not put you in
the favor of other sailors,” growled the captain of the Royal Guard.
Lennon shrugged. “If there were any
hard feelings in the beginning, I have since proved my worth.”
The young man led them to the aft
of the ship where a cabin sat on the deck. A set of stairs led to the top of
the cabin, and Idris could see the ship’s wheel located at the far end. The
nearest door of the cabin had gold letters painted on the red door that read Captain. Lennon led the small group
around the side to another red door, which he opened without ceremony.
“Lady Hildar’s room is around the
back,” Lennon explained. “These will be your quarters during the journey.”
Idris stepped through the door and
looked around the room. It wasn’t spacious, but it was comfortably furnished. A
pair of bunk beds were attached to the wall in the far right corner of the
room, and a hammock had been strung up in the opposite corner. Drawers had been
built into the base of the bottom bed, where they could place their belongings.
A small looking glass was mounted on the wall, a pair of padded chairs were
bolted to the floor, and an enclosed case held four books—a clear sign of the
luxury of the vessel. The one window in the room looked out to the foredeck,
where Idris could see the sailors preparing to cast off.
“Is there anything I can get for
you?” asked Lennon politely.
Cowan shook his grizzled head. “No,
this should be just fine.”
Lennon gave a brisk nod. “Then, I
will leave you to get settled.” He exited the room, closing the door behind
him.
Captain Cowan sat down on the
bottom bunk, pulling out one of the drawers to put his things away. That left
the two young men to decide between them who would get the other bed.
“I do not mind sleeping in the
hammock,” Idris said quickly.
Aherin shrugged. “I do not mind
either.”
Idris gave a small laugh. “What I
mean is that I would be happy to take the hammock. I slept in one for most of
my childhood, so it is quite comfortable to me.”
Aherin smiled. “Very well.”
The ship gave a sudden lurch and
Idris went down on one knee. He felt the blood drain from his face as the
motion sickness set in.
We
have not yet left the dock and already you are ready to lose your stomach,
Iona said with a tangible chuckle in her voice.
“I think I need some fresh air,”
Idris blurted as he rushed for the door.
He didn’t stop until he ran into
the railing, clutching it with both hands and clenching his jaw shut. He took
several deep breaths through his nose and closed his eyes, willing his head to
stop spinning.
Marlais
loved the sea, Iona said softly. He
said reminded him of his home.
The partisan rarely spoke of her
former master—the pain of his loss was still too recent for her—so it caught
Idris off guard to have her volunteer such information. He was always eager to
learn more about the legendary Marlais Dragonspear, even in the midst of
feeling ill.
“His home?” Idris asked, his eyes
still closed tight against the waves of sickness that rolled over his body.
Marlais
was born in a small village along the coast. Whenever he could not sleep at
night, he would think of the sound of ocean waves and it would soothe him.
Idris found himself focusing on the
sound of the water below. “It is a nice sound,” he admitted.
His
father was a ship captain and Marlais rarely saw him as a child. As a result,
Marlais developed an irrational resentment of all boats. But he always loved
the sea.
Idris couldn’t help but smile. Iona
made Marlais seem so ordinary, in
spite of the amazing stories that were told about him.
“I thought he was the son of a
banished warlord,” the young man commented.
Iona snorted. Hardly, she said in an irritated tone. His mother was part of the local gentry, but she was cut off from her
family when she decided to marry a sailor. She lived a life of poverty and
rarely saw her husband after they wed.
Idris’s brow contracted. “That is
sad,” he said quietly.
Yes,
it is, agreed Iona.
“Why are you telling me this?”
Idris asked.
To
prove a point.
“What point?” he urged.
That
you are only as sick on water as you choose to be, farmer.
Idris was startled by her blunt
words. “What?”
Open
your eyes.
Idris complied and saw that the ship
had pulled away from the harbor without him noticing. The Dagmar was sailing smoothly into the open water.
He laughed. “You told me about
Marlais to distract me.”
Yes,
and it worked, Iona said smugly.
The motion of the ship began to
grow with their increasing speed, causing Idris’s stomach to rebel.
Stop
thinking about it, Iona ordered sharply.
“I cannot help it,” Idris moaned.
You
are a weak and foolish farm boy, Iona reprimanded.
Idris didn’t dispute her statement.
“Exactly,” he said through clenched teeth, “and farm boys belong on land.”
Perhaps
you should go lay in your hammock and pretend the rocking has nothing to do
with the ocean. Iona’s voice was laden with disgust.
Idris was quite willing to follow
her suggestion. But not before he emptied his stomach into the rushing water
below.
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