by Dave Skinner
“Our passengers, Captain,” Whitey reported.
“Thank you, Whitey, please wait outside,” the captain said as she stood. “I am Manda of Gore, Captain of the Red Witch. Welcome aboard my ship. I trust you have your fares.”
“You are the wench from the inn,” Ran blurted before anyone else could speak.
“Aboard my ship you will refer to me as Captain, not wench, and you will refrain from blowing kisses at me, unless you want to swim home. Now, your fares?”
“Yes, we have our fares, Captain. Your mate told us five silver each for us and seven for our friend. Water upsets her. She will not be able to work.” Bray spread their fares on the desk. He had collected them from Mearisdeana and Ran the evening before. It seemed to Mearisdeana that Bray had not trusted Ran to still have his money in the morning.
The captain ran her eyes over the coins, but left them lying on the desk. “Whitey will take you back to Tyhan. You will be on the oars while we get underway.” She directed that statement to Bray and Ran, then she turned to Mearisdeana. “If you get seasick you should not stay in your cabin. It is better to be able to see the line where the sky meets the water, unless the sun is also a problem.”
Mearisdeana allowed her cowl to fall back revealing her nightskin. “Water terrifies me. Where I come from we do not have it in this volume. The sun does not bother me. I have a natural protection from sunlight, but it could upset your crew. Judge for yourself.” She let the scales of her dayskin slowly appear.
Manda’s eyes opened slightly wider, but that was the only discernable change. “I see what you mean. I will have Whitey return you to your cabin. Join me at the wheel if you desire some fresh air.” She raised her voice, “Whitey?”
The cabin door opened immediately. “The men to Tyhan, return the woman to her cabin, and tell Tyhan to get us underway.”
***
From her place at the wheel Manda let her eyes rove over the Red Witch, and further out to the horizon. She had caught a fine wind when they had left Delvingford harbour, and it had persisted for the day. If the weather held, they should see the first of the Chimney Isles shortly. She would change course then and run parallel to the islands, but far enough out to avoid their rocky shoals. Every sailor knew that the Chimneys were pirate territory. She would stay well away from them, if the weather held.
A movement towards the bow caught Manda’s attention. Her strange female passenger was leaving the doorway to the cabins, her first appearance on deck since they had set sail.
“Whitey,” she called. The cabin boy was washing down the deck around her feet. She indicated the woman. “Ask our passenger if she would like to join me here. Lend her your arm if she agrees. She looks unstable.”
“Yes, Captain,” Whitey carefully stowed the mop he was using and skipped away. The woman must have agreed because shortly he was leading her aft. It was obvious from her stiff movements that she had no feel for the roll of the ship. Clearly not accustomed to sailing.
Her male companions were doing better. They had taken to the oars without complaint as she guided the ship out of Delvingford harbour and, despite their lack of experience, they were doing well with the daily tasks set for them. Both were sure footed and worked the rigging ably. This afternoon she had Tyhan set them to shifting cargo in the forward hold. It was a hot stifling task, but neither had refused. She had actually enjoyed watching the bigger one when he had left the hold, shirtless and dripping sweat, a little pay back for the wink. She pulled herself away from the image in her mind, and smiled at the female passenger as she arrived.
“Are you feeling better?”
“A small bit, thank you.”
“I have never suffered from seasickness, but I understand it can be quite uncomfortable.”
“I am not sick as much as terrified,” Mearisdeana told her.
“Terrified? Of what?”
“The water.” Manda’s look of disbelief must have prompted Mearisdeana to continue. “There are no lakes or large bodies of water where I come from. I understand that they existed a long time ago, but these days water is extremely scarce. In fact this is the first time I have seen such a thing. The way it moves terrifies me, like a living thing trying to reach out and pull me in.” She gave a slight shudder before continuing.
“This is the fourth boat we have been on, and it is definitely the best so far. The others were far too small for my liking. They bobbed about on the waves instead of cutting through them like this ship does.”
“Yes, we are riding heavy with a full load of cargo. If we were lighter, the waves would affect us more.”
“Bray and Ran told me about the load of cargo you carry. You are a merchant then?”
“Both my father and I are merchant traders. His ship, the Seahawk, is larger than this one, but I’m faster. You will probably see it at Waysley when we arrive. We’re to meet there. You should hold the wheel support,” she told the woman. “It will help stabilize you.”
“Thank you,” Mearisdeana said as she reached out and gripped the support.
“Were your friends complaining about moving cargo today?”
“Well, Bray never complains and Ran complains all the time about everything, so yes and no.”
“Have you known them for long?”
“Only for a few weeks. Why do you ask?”
“They seem an unlikely pair, almost cold to each other, although from what I have seen they work well together. Can you tell me anything about their past.”
“Not really,” Mearisdeana admitted. Manda got the impression that she did not wish to discuss the men, so she changed the subject.
“Do you have business in Waysley?”
“Bray and I have to see someone.”
“Other Travellers?” Manda asked. A questioning expression crossed the woman’s face.
“Your friends are Travellers, are they not? Ran certainly looks like one.”
“We are all travelling,” Mearisdeana answered the puzzled look growing more expressive.
“Traveller is a term used to describe a group of people who are nomads. They travel individually, or in small family groups, sometimes in multi-family caravans. They all have that dark swarthy look that your friend Ran has. Many sport pony tails like he does, both the men and the women. They are tinkers, entertainers, and traders. I believe they are all fighters because, like your friends, they all carry weapons that they seem to be comfortable with. Are your friends good with their weapons?”
“They appear to be,” Mearisdeana answered with a smile.
“Excuse me for a moment,” Manda said. She had noticed the top of a Chimney Island on the horizon. She whistled to Tyhan and indicated a starboard turn. Tyhan called commands and sailors sprang to the ropes.
Watching the sail, keeping as much wind up as possible, she eased the wheel over slightly. The Red Witch responded. This was what Manda loved, had always loved, since the first time her father had her hold the wheel, balancing the forces of wind and wave with her body. She loved this more than anything else. No man had ever made her feel this way. A few had tried, but so far none had come close.
The turn was almost complete when the lookout called, “Weather off the starboard bow!”
Manda cursed to herself. This area by the Chimneys was famous for two reasons: pirates and fog—chimney smoke some mariners called it. Neither was good. She searched where the lookout had indicated, but all she could see from the deck was a thin ribbon of white along the horizon. She stayed her course and kept a watch.
“Is something wrong?” Mearisdeana asked.
“We might be in for some fog.”
“What is fog?”
“It is like a cloud sitting on the water.”
“That does not sound good.”
“Believe me, it isn’t, especially in these waters. We will have to find a harbour or risk tearing the bottom off of the ship.”
“I think I understand. If the fog catc
hes us, you will not be able to see obstacles, and the ship could be damaged.”
“That’s correct.”
“How do you know where to go when the land is not visible?”
“We use a lodestone. It sits in this bowl here. It always points to the North. With knowledge of the lakes, and charts of known obstacles, you can maintain a course and stay in deep water. At night we can keep an accurate heading using the stars, but fog obscures all. Keeping true to a heading is difficult then, if not impossible. If we ended up in the Chimney Islands in a fog, we would definitely run aground. The Chimneys are dangerous even when the sun is shining.”
“Why?”
“Because there are so many of them, and they come in all sizes. Many are of a size that a person would have to cling to the vertical rock rather than stand on level ground. Those are the most dangerous during a fog or at night. Sailing through the Chimneys is like sailing in a maze.” Mearisdeana still looked perplexed, but Manda did not have time to explain at the moment. “Fog!” the lookout called.
“Destroyer,” Manda cursed. “The fog is coming on fast. We need to find a harbour.” Men were scrambling to the ropes. Tyhan was barking orders. “Ready,” his voice boomed to her. She eased into a turn to port, swinging back to slightly starboard of their previous heading. Manda did not want to seek shelter at the first of the Chimney islands. She knew of a small cove not too far into the maze that would do nicely, and she knew the safe channel to reach it. All she had to do was beat the fog.
***
Mearisdeana had watched the wall of fog with dread and wonder. The Red Witch had seemed fast to her before, but now she questioned if it would win this race to the island. The gray menace behind them seemed to pounce forward at times sending out tendrils that grasped at the fleeing ship. Mearisdeana’s heart was pounding. She imagined a gapping maw in a horrible face straining to reach them from within the fog. She tore her eyes away.
Manda’s body was pressed against the wheel, like lovers entwined, her eyes locked on the fast approaching land. As Mearisdeana watched the fog wall, small islands like huge termite mounds began to populate the waters around and before them. She could see one directly ahead that seemed to offer sanctuary. They were racing towards it at speed. She glanced behind. The fog had swallowed the rear of the ship; it was no more than a few paces away. Everyone was silent, frozen in position, men waited at the ropes, at the pulleys, and at the oars she realized. Suddenly the arms of a cove encircled them. The race with the fog ended as Manda called, “Now!”
The sail crashed down, six pair of oars dropped to the water, skipping along the surface before finding purchase and digging in. She heard a loud crack as one split asunder. Both anchors were suddenly spooling out. Mearisdeana’s grip on the wheel housing was torn loose and she was thrown forward, coming to rest against a railing. The ship rocked and bobbed uncomfortably and then became still.
Mearisdeana glanced at Manda. She was pressed even tighter against the wheel, driven there by the sudden stop, but she was smiling. Tyhan was relaying orders quietly. The sailors were already at work pulling ropes, turning cranks, and straightening canvas. They too were smiling. The fog enveloped the ship.
Mearisdeana shuddered as she felt it. She climbed to her feet and wrapped her cloak tightly around her body. For moments she did not breathe, but then necessity forced her to take air into her lungs once more. The air felt moist and cool as she drew it in, actually not an unpleasant sensation at all. It rinsed away some of her tension.
Later, when everything was shipshape, they lowered a small boat and ferried everyone to the beach. A fire was started, and food was prepared. It was dark when Mearisdeana realized the fog had disappeared.
“The men are going to swim,” Manda informed her after dinner. “Let us wander down the beach. I would like some privacy from them.”
They walked away from the camp. Mearisdeana’s eyes adapted quickly to the night once away from the fire. A tiny sliver of moon was sailing up a sky that was ablaze with stars. She let her dayskin slip away. They followed the beach until they came to the mouth of a small river.
“This is a lovely spot,” Mearisdeana commented. “The way those trees on the far bank dip down and touch those flowers floating on the surface is beautiful.”
“You can see that?”
“Yes, quite clearly.”
“Amazing, it is nothing but shadows to me, and I am known for my excellent eyesight.”
“My people work mostly after the sun goes down. We do not have to cover ourselves with cloaks and our dayskin when we are outside at night.” Mearisdeana pushed her hood back and removed her cloak. “This air feels wonderful on my skin.”
“I am going to bathe. The river is shallow here, not over your head. You should try it if you want to feel something wonderful, and truthfully, my friend, you and your cloak could use a wash,” Manda informed her as she stripped off her clothes.
“I do not think I could,” Mearisdeana whispered.
She watched as Manda walked into the river. This water was almost still. It was not reaching for her, and it did nothing to harm Manda who stopped when the water reached her waist.
“You should at least come out a bit and wash your cloak,” Manda said. She suddenly sunk into the water and disappeared below the surface. Mearisdeana was about to scream when Manda popped back up, leaned backwards and started scrubbing at her long red hair. She continued to move freely in the water and the sounds of pleasure she vocalized made Mearisdeana smile.
She eventually stripped off her outer garments and walked carefully into the water until it reached her knees. She pushed her cloak into the liquid and soon had it and everything else soaked. She had to admit it did feel refreshing. With her cloak washed she took it out and hung it on a bush, stripped off her clothes, and walked back into the water. Manda was sitting peacefully with water lapping around her neck. Mearisdeana walked out to her and sat down. The feeling took her breath away.
“Will you wash my back?” Manda asked. She pulled her hair over her shoulder, out of the way.
Mearisdeana rubbed her hands gently over Manda’s back. When she was finished, Manda did the same for her, and then held her head while she rinsed it.
“Your lack of hair makes this easy. I have always preferred long hair, but after seeing what you look like with almost none I might reconsider. Is this a preference for you?”
“We all have little or no hair on our heads. It probably has something to do with our ability to change skins. I was actually thinking how wonderful yours looks, especially the red colour. I did not know that was possible, although I probably should have guessed from the light colour of Bray’s hair. Thank you, Manda, for helping me into the water. You were correct, it is a wonderful feeling, cool after the day’s heat, and … tingling. It is not anything like I imagined.”
“You are more than welcome. I hated to see you terrified all the time. I hope you are feeling better about it now.”
“We will see tomorrow. Shall we head back?”
They made their way out of the water and stood idly while the breeze dried their bodies.
“That is a lovely necklace you have on. May I look closer?” Manda asked.
“Of course. My betrothed gave it to me. I hope it will bring him to me. I was told it contained magic.”
“Magic or not, it is bewitching. If I possessed something like that I would make sure it was visible all the time, not hidden away beneath a cloak.”
“The habits of a lifetime are difficult to dismiss even when you know that they are no longer necessary. My cloak affords me a sense of protection, and someone told me that I should protect myself when I use my nightskin. It has never been exposed to the sun.”
“Then it makes sense to keep covered as much as possible,” Manda said. “We should dress.”
When Mearisdeana had pulled her clothes back on, she went to gather her cloak.
“Look at this,” she excl
aimed. “The slice through my cloak has been repaired. The sewing is excellently done. Look at how tiny and even the stiches are, and strong too.” She looked around and then stared into the woods. “Who would do such a thing, and why?”
“My guess would be a leprechaun. It is a wonderful sewing job. If you have any coins in your pouch, you should leave one to pay for the service.”
Mearisdeana retrieved a silver coin from her pouch and placed it carefully on top of a stone beside the bush. It sparkled in the moonlight. “What is a leprechaun, and why would it mend my cloak?”
“They are a type of faerie, a magical creature, known for their tailoring abilities. Many of the little people do chores or services in exchange for food or money. Leprechauns and the Far Darrig prefer to receive money for their services. It is believed that they possess pots of gold and jewels.”
Manda started telling her about the little people as they walked back down the beach. After a few steps Mearisdeana glanced back. The coin was gone.
Chapter 46
The Master of the Crystals they called him. He had a different name before, but after more than two thousand years he had forgotten it. His original name was one of the few things that had deserted him over the years; at least that was what he believed. If there were other details he had forgotten, he did not care. He still retained his life, his strength, and his riches.
