by J P Nelson
Caught off guard, I said to Dorna, “Sorry, gotta run.”
As I turned to quick-step with Bannock, she got this wide-eyed not-so-happy look on her face as he said, “Com’mon mate, we need to hurry.”
We had put some distance down from the café as in concern I asked, “What’s wrong? Is someone badly hurt?”
Without breaking stride he said, “I hope not, but I am sure he could use your help for something.”
We made a few more long strides when it hit me, “Crikes … he doesn’t need assistance …”
He grinned innocently, “He doesn’t?”
Glancing back I thought about it. Then to him I said, “I guess I owe you one.”
Cheerfully he replied, “Actually, you owe me two …” we looked at each other as he added, “… one tankard when you and Tiny were fighting …”
I grinned, “Two it is.”
We paused at gangway of the Lohri as I awkwardly asked, “Are we friends, Bannock?”
“Friendship,” he mused, “Is a thing not to take lightly.”
With a look that seemed to burrow into my soul he asked, “Are you my friend?”
It was a long moment we stood there. I knew nothing of this man, his background, his skills beyond the deck, and his uncanny ability to walk up on me without me knowing. There was much more to this fellow who seemed to like to know that you knew that he knew things, but wouldn’t tell you what they were. It could be that he was not really a very nice guy. But depending on perspective, the same could be said for me.
When or where does a real friendship begin?
I replied, “Yes, Bannock, I am your friend.”
Genuine warmth radiated from his eyes, “And I am yours.”
We walked up the gangway as I offered, “I still cannot remember where I first saw you … and I know I have seen you.”
He grinned and answered, “Are you sure? I am sure we have never met …”
___________________________
The Lohra Lai tarried in port for several days. Jha’Ley expected to find a parcel waiting for him, but it wasn’t there. A friend, Captain Morucai of the Buhasp, had knowledge of a man who had sailed with Greybeard named Geof.
Geof had left the sea life years ago but occasionally hit the port pubs. It was there Morucai met him and shared tales over tankards. Geof said he still had his old, small footlocker. In it was his personal journal, sheaves of parchment bound by wood of the Kelshinua’s deck. It was no artifact or treasure, just an old man’s keepsake.
Arristahn had told Jha’Ley to accurately find the shipwreck, it would behoove him greatly to have something from the hull. In this way, Arristahn could locate the exact position of the Kelshinua, once they were within range, of course.
Morucai was to have located the man, obtained the chest for a healthy sum provided by Jha’Ley, and deliver it to the Wayward Inn of Yhonder. Only the chest wasn’t there, and it should have been. In fact, the Buhasp was overdue by about three weeks, which was unlike the captain. There were merchants waiting for trade goods, already paid for, to be delivered by Morucai.
Jha’Ley said if the ship hadn’t arrived by a certain date, we were setting off to back-trace his route. He … we … needed that book.
Recent severe storms were now suspect. If the Buhasp had been blown into the Reefs of Veecher …
As we waited, I worked my way around town trying to garner information about the man who called himself Sensei. On the shady side of Yhonder, Bannock and I found a part-time floor swabby, full-time drunk named Sherky who had a bit of information.
Bannock handled all the questioning as he got a bottle and three glasses, I put down a coin for it, then we sat at a table. Bannock sipped the liquor slowly, taking his time and licking his lips.
Sherky’s eyes were big and hopeful. One finger of booze at a time, my friend asked questions and casually talked to me about the weather, horses, sailing, all at the same time. It took a few moments, but I suddenly realized Bannock had changed accents to a real slow drawl such as these locals had.
The man who called himself Sensei was actually named Ducky Starmong. When in town, he would give Sherky some old ale and a little bit of white powder in exchange for doing little odd jobs. Starmong always came from the north, down the Jutte Trail, then after tendering business he would charter passage to N’Ville.
Sherky was enthusiastic, “Sh-h-hns-say-y isth goot man-n-n. He …” the drunk pointed a wavering finger into the air, “… he-e isth a wor-r-rlt champ-yun-n-n.”
“Where would we find him in N’Ville? Do you know?”
The drunk’s eyes were bloodshot as he stared at the bottle, then the empty glass. Without hesitation he answered as if mesmerized, “In-n fiew-w-w of thuh moun-n-nt-tun.”
Bannock poured another finger of booze and looked to me, “I think we have all we are going to get.”
I nodded, “It’s enough.”
He sat back and watched the fellow drag the glass like it was a treasure and drink it slowly. He asked me, “What do you do now?”
I drummed one hand on the table, “I don’t know.”
One thing I did know, I wanted some coffee. I purchased a big sack of it for my personal cache. But I had another idea.
“G’Tabb? You are in charge of the hydroponics.”
We were playing chess in his quarters. He was pretty good. He was studying a move as he responded, “Uh-huh … and?”
“Can I have a portion to grow something, two somethings?”
He looked at me, “What would that be?”
I told him about the coffee beans I healed and plants grown for Hoscoe. And there was something else, something medicinal. It was something Wesney found exciting.
I got to grow my own little coffee patch. But at the medicinal bins Wesney, Jha’Ley, G’Tabb and a few others watched me take the blue rose I saved from Dahruban’s castle grounds from the hidden place in my boot. I cupped it, focused, and it began to bloom. Putting it into the system I got to preserve my momma’s flower.
The dreams did not go away. They only seemed to get worse … and now I was having visions. Glimpses of ice, fading images of a storm-tossed sea, a sky with a single moon I had never seen. Inside the ship’s hull I could swear I saw something move. Then another quick look and whatever it was had gone.
The day before we were to depart I had gone out to the nearby hills to breathe. Coming back that evening I passed a group of small buildings, the Church of Robin. It was an Eayahnite place and I had no interest there. But my elvin hearing heard scuffling and gagging sounds from behind the main building.
Hurrying around to the back, I saw three, no four, thugs stringing up a man to a noose from the back of a horse-drawn wagon. Four on one … thugs … I didn’t take time to wait. One of them was on the seat and snapped the reigns. The fellow tried to struggle, but the wagon left from beneath his feet.
The beam above groaned with his weight and a splintering sound could be heard, but it did not break and his toes barely scratched the ground as he swung back and forth. From around the corner I began to *Run like the Wind.* I felt the wind blow through my hair as I aimed my trajectory.
Drawing my sword as I went, I closed the distance in fast time and *Leaped* at a cross-angle from the horse and across to the swinging man. The thugs saw me an instant too late, as it was dark of night and I came upon them suddenly. As I moved I deduced this had been a planned affair.
The horse saw me before they did and shied, but at an angle that was helpful to me. As I hurtled upward, I sliced the driver across the neck, following the motion with a whip-action that allowed me to sever the rope as I hurtled past. The hanging man fell with a thud as I touched down and rolled to my feet.
One of the thugs threw a knife at me, which I caught and followed through with a spin, throwing it back, sinking it in his chest all the way to the hilt. Another drew a short-blade as the last one ran.
Mister short-blade thought about it as I said, “Mine is bigger than y
ours …” to which he must have agreed, because he turned and ran after his friend.
Making sure no one else was around, I sheathed my weapons and went to check on the kneeling, coughing and gagging man. I almost became sick … his breath reeked of greasy pig flesh.
“Are you alright?”
He shook his head, so I put hand upon him and did my *Heal* effect. The rope burns went away, and his neck popped.
I asked, “Who are you? Do you know these men?”
He looked at me, “I am lay-priest of this church. Thank Eayah you came.”
I just looked at him and said, “Well, maybe. But I’m the one who just saved your neck.”
Pushing off his knees to stand, he asked, “Would you like to come in for a drink, brother?”
Thinking about it a moment I said, “Sure, why not?”
To a cottage not far from the church building his wife, I guess it was his wife, was waiting at the door, wringing her hands, “Thanny? Are you well?”
I thought, ‘Thanny?’
“I heard noise …” giving me a critical observation she added, “… who is …” she paused, then said with scorn, “… this?”
“Sweetheart, darling … he saved me.”
“From what?”
“From the Sathbo Brothers.”
She was disgusted, “I doubt that to be true. It is Eayah who intervened. You can use it a subject for your next sermon.
“Honey …”
It was clear who was in charge of the house as she glared at him.
“Honey … two of them are dead in the yard between---”
“Dead!” She looked at me with total disgust, “You killed them? You killed those men? You could have just talked with them. They would not have harmed my husband.”
I replied, “Ma’am, they were hanging him. They surely meant to harm your man. When I saw him he was swinging in a noose.”
“Hang?! Come here Thanny, show me the rope marks.”
“Honey … sweetheart …” he indicated me, “… he healed them.”
“Healed?! He can not heal! Only one with the divine power of Eayah can heal! Get inside … wait until my father hears about this.”
“Yes dear.”
I just stood there as she barred the door and scoffed, “My husband does not need you. We do not need your violence,” her eyes went to my ears as a breeze blew my hair, apparently the altercation knocked my headband off, “and we do NOT need your kind around our holy home. Now leave!”
“No problem.”
I turned and left feeling like so much garbage. It dawned on me he never even said thank you.
Chapter 77
JHA’LEY WAS DISTRAUGHT when we cast off the next morning. It wasn’t just the footlocker he was waiting for, but a friend was missing. There was no fanfare, just a loading of the men, some supplies, and we were off.
As for me, I had a nightmarish sleep and awakened with a surly attitude. I didn’t take it out on others, but kept to myself.
At chow I overheard someone say, “Remember that Dorna girl?”
Another answered, “Yea-yo. She was goin’ along asking some of them slicks in’f they wanted a woman.”
Bannock was watching me when yet another offered in between bites, “I wuz at the Crazy Cup Tavern when she came in an’ wunted to work as a lay-me-down woman. Thu barkeep said, “Naw. I know yah, git some more years on yah an’ come back.”
I was quiet and had stopped eating when the first one said, “No shite? Well, just as we were settin’ to untie, a feller was talkin’ and said she was found in a stable, she had run herself through with a dirk it was. Deader’n last year’s flies.”
My fist hit the table and everyone just stopped. I stood up, got my plate, started back to the food pit, then saw Tiny. I offered my plate and asked him, “You want this?”
He looked at it and asked, “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with it?”
“Nope.”
He took it and I left the deck to bash my bags.
After whaling the dust out of one, Bannock sidled over to the wall, “It isn’t your fault, Wolf.”
I paused and said with angst, “Yeah? Well that doesn’t make me feel any better.”
Cutting loose with a hard, fast combination, I yelled as I rammed my right fist through the canvas, through the filler, out the other side. If I wasn’t so serious, it would be funny; my arm was now fully imbedded in the bag.
Bannock raised his eyebrows and said, “Miu’Ganté, Wolf … I call that a punch!”
___________________________
Every now and again, Jha’Ley would dive from the ship and take a look around. The first time it startled me, but then Bannock told me about the captain’s particular ability. I would have joined him but … he didn’t let the Lohri come to a stop … or slow down, even. No, he was faster than the vessel. Me? I could adapt myself some webs in between my fingers, but scooting around was all I could do. Not that that wasn’t plenty, but I wasn’t racing any boats, let alone a ship in full sail.
Watching Jha’Ley fly up out of the water to land on deck was a cool thing to see. Someone would be at hand with a towel and hot mug of tea. He liked coffee, but preferred tea. Most folk of the era were like that. G’Tabb, Bannock and Wesney, however, got into the coffee with me. There was butter on board, and cane sugar. I tried it, both of them, in my coffee and loved it.
Back to Jha’Ley … he was looking for a wreck. He found a couple, but they were old. We didn’t slow down until we reached the Reefs of Veecher. This was an area of shallow depths, perhaps five or six fathoms in many places, for several square miles.
Only in a few places could you see a projection above the water when it was still, but rarely when it was angry. Below the surface, however, was a vast network of enemies to a ship’s hull. This place was a good hundred miles off the coast of Tio’Pashon and avoided by all ships, especially the larger ones.
Jha’Ley knew this area, but he needed to find three points to give him his immediate coordinates. Scope in hand he scoured the area as we trolled along.
“There,” he exclaimed as he pointed to Telroy, “Two degrees north-by-northeast until you see the old sunken ship’s mast. Set to anchor and wait for us.”
“Aye.” Obviously Telroy had been here before, too.
But wait a minute, I asked Jha’Ley, “Who is us?”
With enthusiasm he looked at me as he began doffing his tunic. I asked, “Me? I can’t, I could never keep up with you, and I’ve only been down a few times.”
“This will give you practice … and you will not need to keep up. You will take one side and I the other.”
“But what am I looking for?”
Wesney replied, “A big stern …” he held his hands up wide as if reading something, “… that has the word Buhasp on it.”
I turned and glared at him, “I knew that. I was being---”
“Hurry, Mister Wolf, we must be at it.”
Doffing down to my pants and boots, I stood at the rail and looked out. Me by myself out here … way-y-y out here.
Bannock asked, “Aren’t you going to take your boots off?”
“No.”
I looked at him as he reached out and very seriously said, “Heyo, easy there … don’t fall.” He touched my shoulder, honest, that’s all he did, then he flicked his fingers like one of those Tai’Jhi things the captain likes to do, then I saw the water coming at me fast.
For a moment I splashed and spluttered, then I grew my eyelids, finger-webs and lung-gills. One day, I thought, one day I was going to have to learn to *Adapt* before I hit the water.
I lost all track of time, partly because the underwater thing wasn’t natural and I had to focus the whole time. But I also liked it. It felt like I was flying. I could put to quill a whole tale from being down there. It wouldn’t be full of adventure, but it was interesting. I had to remember what I was down there for.
For a second, there, I almost had a most adverse encounter with a nine foot
long eel-like fish, but it had little legs on it. Then I remembered *S’Fahn Muir.* In its vague memory it recalled a storm, which it liked because it made food easier to catch, and a big whump sound against the sky of the water. When wasn’t clear. It could have been two hours, a day, a week … but it gave me an idea.
Jha’Ley found a reef with fragments of wood rubbed upon it that seemed fresh, but no wreckage near it. When we were both back on deck, wrapped in drying blankets and supping tea, and shared each other’s findings he said, “I fear it reasonable to suggest the Buhasp may have been dashed in storms, but crippled or worse and found herself adrift.”
G’Tabb suggested, “Aye, captain. But even a crack in the hull would not have tarried a good crew from making repair and pressing on. And the hull-skin you found does not suggest enough damage to sink her outright.”
Jha’Ley replied, “So, worse is my thought. Of course … that bit I found may not even be Buhasp’s skin.”
We were walking the deck, each to our own quarters when I mentioned talking to dolphins, if we see any.
In a conversational tone Jha’Ley made comment, “You know, Wolf, should I know more of what you can do … I can make informed decisions.”
I gave it a thought and came back with, “True. If I knew more of what you can do … I would know better how to compliment you.”
He in turn gave it a thought and replied, “True … true. How about you and Doctor Wesney join me in my cabin for dinner, a mug of brandy, and some talk tonight?”
“Sounds good, real good. What are we having?”
We paused at the first companionway down as he looked toward the starboard sky in thought, back to me, then shrugging shoulders he answered, “Food, I guess?”
A couple of days sailing along current, hoping to find the Buhasp adrift, Jha’Ley sent word to me in the infirmary to join him at number three starboard ballista. I had been helping Wesney with what he was implementing; something called a quarterly physical to monitor everyone’s health.
Wesney had all kinds of gadgets. One, he called a chest-a-scope. There were these two ear pieces that connected by a cord to a metal disk you could put on a person’s chest. It let a normal human hear the heart beat, little raspy sounds in their lungs, and other sounds. Some of that I can hear clear, anyway, if I focus. But these made it all a lot louder. He even gave me my very own set.
