The Mage's Daughter 2: Book Two: Enlightenment

by LeRoy Clary

  “I understand you have some crates for shipment?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. The space on the Merry Princess is limited, and we earn our way by using all of it. Are you prepared to pay, or will I deduct the cost from your pay?”

  “I get paid?”

  “Prin, you receive ordinary seaman pay. I promoted you a few days ago and forgot to mention it. You are no longer a whipping boy.”

  “Sir, I just needed to get away. Escape. That’s all you owe me.”

  “Harrumph, that nasty business was finished when we cleared port the first day. You work as hard as anyone on the ship and will be paid accordingly, however, when you wish to ship something on the Merry Princess you are a customer. Pay, or have the cost deducted from what you earn.”

  She stood straighter and considered. “Five small crates. Will my pay cover that?”

  “And then some.”

  “There is one crate I wish to be stored where we can reach it. Is that possible?”

  “What’s in it?”

  “Mostly books. That is what I want to get to. So, I can study them.”

  He pointed, “I think they just arrived in that wagon, so you had better get down there and explain your needs to the bos’n. Tell him to add them to the manifest, regular cargo rates. Will this happen at other ports?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t think?”

  “I can’t be sure, but I didn’t expect these, either. Sir.”

  He smiled, relaxing somewhat. “It is good to have you aboard, seaman.”

  She realized she had been dismissed and scuttled down the ladder. She rushed to the bos’n and relayed what the captain had told her, then to the galley for a handful of crackers. She watched her crates slung into the hold, and made sure the one with the books was on top. Then she ran down the gangplank to thank the old man who probably sat in the wagon to make sure they were safely delivered.

  He was not there. The cart driver was young and still hadn’t pulled his wagon away. When she reached him, he lifted two pairs of sailor-shoes into the air. “I expect you’re looking for these.”

  “I wanted to thank him.”

  “He’s not feeling well, today. But he made sure your things were delivered.” He tossed an arm into the air as he snapped the whip to the rump of the horse, and the wagon pulled away. She wondered how the horse and wagon navigated the narrow streets and realized it couldn’t. The crates must have been hand-carried to a place where the wagon waited. Prin stood and watched, feeling as if in total solitude, as she stood in the middle of a crowd of people on the pier.

  The bos’n called her name as if he’d called her before. She turned.

  “You going to do your job or stand there and stare off into space?”

  She leaped back aboard the ship and ran for the cargo hold in time to help guide a larger crate into position while slipping the new shoes onto her feet. By mid-morning, the holds were filled, more cargo was loaded onto the deck of the ship, and the pier was clear. The larger ship across from them still loaded their cargo, but even the vast amount that had been waiting for them had perceptually diminished.

  The Merry Princess was untied, and a pair of longboats rowed them away from the pier and waited for them to hoist a sail before casting off the lines. The sails filled and the ship pointed out to sea.

  The bos’n pointed at her and Jam. “You two, get this cargo tied down and set your cargo blocks in the holds before we clear the harbor. Square knots. I’ll be checking.”

  Prin pulled a coil of rope free and tied off the first end to a metal ring, then strung it over the first crate and tied it to the ring on the other side. She tied only square knots, and half hitches, because those were all she knew, but she tested each of them before moving on. When her section of the deck was tied, she leaped into the second hold and started placing the soft wood chocks between the cargo and hull so nothing could slide in a storm if the ropes broke loose. Then she tied them all, at least two ropes on each.

  Twice the bos’n checked on her. When she climbed back on deck, he was checking her knots for the cargo stored up there. He motioned her to his side with a hand but didn’t say anything. He took hold of a rope and pulled. The knot fell apart.

  She shook her head in disbelief. “No, I checked them all.”

  “You’re sure? This is the third one I’ve found. A common mistake for those new to the sea.”

  How could that be? She shook her head again, not believing her eyes. “No, I tied them and then went back and checked them again. I promise.”

  “Come here.”

  She stepped to his side, confused and angry with herself, but not understanding how she missed them. If anything, she expected he might say something about the extra time she had taken to finish because of making sure.

  “Look at the wheelhouse.”

  She leaned to one side and looked up.

  “Had to move to see it, didn’t you? That means nobody up there can see us behind this crate, either.”

  “So? I swear I checked them all. I double-checked them because you said how important it is.”

  He said, “I’m not mad at you, girl. I’m trying to explain. All three knots tied wrong were where you can’t see them from the wheelhouse. Isn’t that a little bit strange?”

  “Strange?”

  “Prin, I’ve been at this for more years than you will believe. I know when somebody is screwing my pooch.”

  “I don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “Jam did this.”

  “Oh.”

  “You and I can’t prove it, and we won’t accuse him, but I know the boy untied your knots to make you look bad. We’re going to have to watch him.”

  “In a storm, the cargo could have shifted and slid over the side.”

  The bos’n said, “And along the way, it could have caused the ship damage, possibly even sinking her or shoving someone over the side, but Jam knew I’d find those knots and correct them and blame you.”

  “I feel like throwing him over the side,” Prin said, her anger growing.

  “And I would stand between you and the captain if you did, but I’m asking you not to. Not yet. The boy is making some mistakes, and his father sees them. Sneaking ashore to follow you while he was restricted to the ship will cost him liberty in the next two ports, as well as extra duty cleaning the ship while the rest of the crew are ashore. I’ll be here to make sure he stays put this time.”

  “Why is he so hateful?” Prin asked.

  “Well, I’ve seen this before. Jam probably thinks because he’s the captain’s son, he gets special treatment.”

  “He does. Everyone knows it.”

  “And you’re right. Now, I’m going to trust you with something you’re never to tell.”

  She hesitated. “Not even to Sara?”

  “Until it happens, not even to her. If she is going to cause problems with Jam because of his actions, you tell me, but otherwise, you say nothing.”

  “Okay,” Prin agreed, wondering how she trusted the bos’n enough to agree to an unknown.

  “At the next port, a place called Gallium, Jam will be leaving us to join the crew of a sister ship, one owned by his uncle, or another. He is a man with far less tolerance than Jam’s father, and the one who might cause Jam to grow up.”

  “Is it because he changed my square knots to grannies?”

  “No, the captain does not know about that and has no need. The decision has already been made, and piling on will not help. It was a difficult decision for his father.”

  The mouth of the bay was behind, the sails filled with a stiff breeze, and the sea was flat. All the knots had been checked again, finding none of Jam’s improperly tied. Inside the cargo hold where Prin had worked, they found no grannies. A chill still cooled the morning air. Seagulls circled and raucously called for food. The ship changed course and leaned heavily to what she now knew was starboard.

  Prin said, “The next port, w
hat is it like?”

  The bos’n perched a hip on the edge of a crate. “Ah, it is called Gallium, a name as old as the sea, and so is the city. Imagine a place where two great lands come together,” he put his fists together. “Like this. There is a great land to either side, and our sea is on this side, and another through a small gap, a sea called the Green Sea.”

  “Will we go through that gap?”

  “No, not even I have been there in that sea. It’s forbidden. I’ve heard, from sailors in the bars of Gallium, about the wonders there on that other sea, but a great nation controls it, and it only allows ships from its kingdoms sail their waters. The buildings of Gallium are mostly bluish-white from minerals in the clay they use, a grand sight to see in the morning sun.”

  “That’s not fair, about not letting ships go there.”

  “Nor right, but it is the way of things. I suppose I could take a post on one of their ships to cure my curiosity, and I’ll admit I often thought of doing exactly that when young, but it is one of my regrets in life that I didn’t.”

  She said, “The city of Gallium is on which fist?”

  He held his fists together again. “Both. Besides being old and bluish white, Gallium is a city situated at the perfect place to halt all ships and charge a healthy tax to make the monarchs wealthy. They say, who controls Gallium controls the world, and they might be right.”

  “Do their ships sail into our sea?”

  “They do. And now you’re going to say again how unfair that is. I’ll tell you what, if I am ever made the Emperor of Gallium, I promise to open the gates and allow ships to sail each way.”

  She said, “I will hate to lose Jam, you know.”

  “He holds a valuable position. However, we will either trade crewmen with the other ship or hire someone to replace him.”

  “I know, but I don’t like the idea of him having to leave this ship. It feels like it’s all my fault.”

  “Yet, while he is here, he causes you no end of trouble.”

  “I sort of like him.”

  The bos’n said, “The situation is not at all uncommon. I shouldn’t tell you this, but your captain found himself shifted to another ship when young, but for slacking, not intentionally trying to harm the good work of another.”

  “Really? How long to Gallium?”

  “You do change subjects, quickly for my mind to follow. It’s the long leg of our journey, probably twenty-three or four days beating upwind.”

  “Good. I have a lot of studying to do.”

  “Not today. I’m going to inspect your work with the dunnage and knots in the cargo bays and tell you what needs to be done. Same with all Jam tied down. Then we are going to take a stroll together, you and me.”

  “A stroll?”

  “I’ll carry pen and ink, and paper. We are going to start at one end of the ship and make a list of all that needs refitting, replacing, repairing, painting, scraping, oiling, and cleaning. While we have time, good weather, and the great shipyards of Gallium are in front of us, we will inspect what we need to get our ship in shape.”

  “You expect us to get all that done as well as our regular work?”

  “No, that’s what the shipyard is for. Our hull needs scraping and caulking, the sails are rotting, and lines are weak. This will be a full outfitting of the Merry Princess. When we leave port, it may as well be that we are on a new ship.”

  Prin said, “How long will we be in Gallium?”

  “I’d think at least thirty days. Last time it was closer to forty.”

  Prin rechecked her ropes, knots, and dunnage with the bos’n, finding very little to correct. There was a new cat in her hold, a gray and white beast larger than any cat she’d ever seen. The previous cat had disappeared.

  The new one stalked her, following just out of reach. She called it “cat” and it somehow attached itself to her, crying in joy when she appeared and sleeping when she left. While they made their inspections, the bos’n took a rope in both hands and pulled the slack out, using his legs and back to get it tight. The rope parted, and he crashed into one of the ship’s ribs, striking his head so hard the blood flowed down to his neck.

  He stumbled upright, holding onto a crate for support. “Get another rope and tie that down. Then add a line to everything down here. These won’t hold in a storm.”

  She watched him climb the ladder after waving off her offer of help. Then, she got to work. Instead of two ropes, each stack of cargo had three, and if they were larger crates, she added a fourth. She went up on deck and did the same for the cargo there.

  Jam was sitting in a chair near the stern watching her, chewing a green weed he kept concealed inside his shirt. She looked at the cargo above the forward hatch and saw only two straps on each, but the bos’n probably hadn’t had time to tell him, yet.

  Thinking she might do him a favor, Prin walked back and said, “Wonderful day, isn’t it?”

  “Took you long enough. I’ve been done a while.”

  “To tie down the cargo? One of the rotten ropes broke, and the bos’n fell against the wall.”

  “Bulkhead.”

  “Anyhow, he hurt himself. I was putting the third rope on each, and four on some.”

  “So, he found a frayed rope. Good for him.”

  “They’re getting rotten. That’s why we’re replacing them.”

  Jam said, “Two were good enough on the last leg.”

  Instead of arguing, she went forward with a dozen ropes slung over her shoulder. She began tying them down, adding the extras to anything that looked like it needed it. Once, as she pulled on a rope before tying it off, her eyes glanced up and met those of the captain. She looked away, and she kept on doing her job.

  The dinner gong sounded. She had only eaten what Sayed had brought on a tray for lunch, but Sara and the cook had made up for that in quantity. There were two roasted chickens, a platter of thinly sliced fried meat, individual sized bread loaves, and at least four kinds of sliced fruit floating in a sugary water.

  At every meal, the cook put something green, or fresh, although the mainstay was meat and bread. Sara joined them, taking the seat the bos’n usually sat in. The captain said he was sleeping off his injury. Jam smirked at the announcement, and Prin decided it was because he had slacked off the whole afternoon since the bos’n was not there to stay on him.

  That reminded her that he would be leaving the ship in Gallium. She wondered if that knowledge would knock the smirk off him. But she said nothing, true to her promise.

  Sara said, “Prin, we have time to read after we eat.”

  They finished and went to the bow where they sat in the shade, and each opened a book. Sara filled in a word here and there, but Prin did most of the reading herself. She also understood the book was about horses and intended for students far younger than her.

  She finished the book and closed it.

  Sara said, “Did you enjoy it?”

  “I’m not sure. The story was good, but it got me thinking about when I was a fire starter. I only had one friend, a boy who looked after the horses. We called him Cleanup.”

  Sara burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Cleanup? That was his name?”

  “Well, he cleaned up the horse apples they left behind. He was nice, and I miss him.”

  “Sorry, I laughed. It just struck me as funny, at first. A lot of what you’ve said about your life is about people being cruel and offensive, you know. Some Royal probably gave him that name, and it stuck. But it illustrates the larger problem. Royals don’t think of servants as people, or as having feelings.”

  “He was, and is my friend.”

  “Will you return and visit him someday? Is there any romance in the works?”

  “No romance, but you have an interesting idea. When I return to live in my father’s apartment or the Royal Suite, or wherever, I’ll need someone else I can trust. Besides, you. I guess that I could have Cleanup brought to the palace.”r />
  “You value friends so much?”

  “I only have you, Cleanup, Evelyn, and the king. Four people.”

  Sara smiled, “That is a sorceress, and woman who wants to be a sorceress, a man who cleans up after horses, and an old king. Can you imagine a more diverse group?”

  “If I knew what diverse meant, I could answer. Remember, I’m only thirteen.”

  “Eleven,” they both shouted at the same time, drawing odd looks from two of the crew as they laughed, knowing she was into her twelfth year, or perhaps thirteenth, but the joke still felt fresh.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  They fell into a daily routine. Work until lunch, do their studies afterward. Then more work on the ship before dinner, followed by more studies while the daylight lasted, if the ship was not in heavy weather. The study periods after lunch were often intense, the sort that left with one or both having headaches. Tempers often flared.

  In contrast, the early evening sessions were mainly the two of them sitting in the late afternoon sun reading for pleasure, each with a book of her choice. The crewmen learned to leave them alone during those times.

  It was Sara who often fell into a funk after studying. They had mutually agreed that no spells on incantations should be made while on the ship. Both feared the possible results, especially if mistakes were made. There were also the reactions of the rest of the crew to consider if they know what Sara did. Magic was accepted in some societies, rejected in others, but the average person resented it, feeling the use of magic was an affront to hard work.

  No matter how many times it was explained that magic cost the user in some way, that nothing is free, they didn’t understand. Most believed a love spell could make them marry someone they didn’t like. More than a few believed their bad marriages were the result of spells. How could I have ever loved her? Gamblers who lost, blamed magic. Gamblers who won praised magic—until they lost.