Ruguer barked a derisive laugh. “A trustworthy pirate? I’m away for a half-season, and the world has gone mad.”
Meena continued. “Evidently this pirate put his life in jeopardy to free some of Tyner’s people from captivity. I trust Tyner’s judgment, and so do you. The worst thing about all of this is that we can do nothing except wait for Tag and our people to return.”
He shook his head. “Oh no. There is something to be done. I will have a fresh charon saddled and ride to Northland immediately. I will name their king for the coward he is in front of his entire parliament. He fools no one. He has always risked the least in manpower and materiel. His scheme is to make Northland an unstoppable military power. Citizens of Olvion died for his lack of commitment to the war.”
Meena remained calm as he ranted. She knew he would have to expel his rage before his intellect emerged. He finally slowed his cursing and noticed that his wife was quietly watching him with a little smile on her face.
“You are doing that thing again,” Ruguer accused.
“Of what thing do you speak?” Small smile.
Now Ruguer smiled. “That wife thing! We’ve only been wed a few seasons, but your mannerisms are becoming familiar to me. You are allowing me to rage because it is something that I require. Then you will wait for me to regain my composure.”
Another smile from Meena. “And then?”
Ruguer gave an exaggerated sigh. “And then you pretend to listen to me for a spell before telling me what I should do. And you will be right.”
“I will do no such thing, but don’t you think it would be wiser to spend a few evenings with your queen before storming the walls of Northland? That would give us time to…plan.”
“Yes, My Love, by all means let us plan.”
***
Toria entered the crew space that was set aside for the thirteen other females on the ship. The air smelled of brine, fish and body odor masked by cologne. The other women were all warriors, and Toria was prepared to be ostracized, at least at first, because she was a civilian. However, she had gotten to know several of the others on the trek from Olvion to Aspell and even more while in Aspell waiting for the ship to leave port.
She noticed that she was being stared at when she walked between the rows of slung hammocks. The captain had decreed that no males were to enter the space so the others were in several different states of dress and undress. She found a hammock that was attached only on one end. There was a woman in the uniform of Aspell sitting on a hammock next to it. Toria looked at the woman and thought she had a hopeful look in her eyes and that made no sense.
“Is anyone using this…bed-thing?” she asked.
The other girl looked excited. She pushed her hair back over both ears and smiled broadly. “No, it’s called a hammock, and you can take it.”
Confused that the warrior seemed so enthusiastic about her choice of sleeping arrangements, Toria grabbed the unsecured end and began to tug it over to hook on the bulkhead. The other woman jumped up and grabbed the other side and helped her stretch the stiff canvas the extra few inches that it required. Toria tied it off and nodded her thanks.
“I’m Tay,” the girl said.
“Toria.”
“I know.”
That seemed odd. When she sat on the swinging hammock Toria looked around the crew space and saw that all of the other women were staring at her. She glared back, thinking they were being rude, but they continued to smile.
Tay sat on the edge of Toria’s hammock making the odd bedding creak and sway a bit.
“We,” she gestured at the other women, “have heard that you have a…companion.”
The other girls were edging closer now. Toria was at a loss as to what was happening. If there were to be some kind of contest to establish the pecking order among the women she was ready to let it happen. She quickly took the measure the warriors around her and thought that only one or two would offer any real problem. They all looked friendly, however, and acted as if they expected something from her.
She looked at Tay. “Companion? Do you mean Lyyl? He’s my cousin.”
Three or four of the women moved closer, and one actually sat on the other corner of her hammock.
“No, not Lyyl, although I wouldn’t mind hearing more about him later.” Tay leaned forward. She seemed frustrated that Toria was not getting her point. “The Mountain Child. Everyone’s talking about it. Is it true?”
It was like a dam broke as all of the other thirteen women now crowded more closely around Toria, Tay and the other girl on the hammock.
Toria was shocked at herself for forgetting. The warm and furry lump was inside her cloak and still held there by her belt. She could feel him moving around slightly now.
Toria put one hand inside the cloak then stopped. She looked around at the gathered women. “Please understand; I know next to nothing about him. He doesn’t even have a name right now. Tag said one of the things I need to do is give him a name that he likes. I don’t know how he will react to being close to so many people so please don’t crowd around and scare him.”
There were thirteen impatient nods.
She wrapped her hand gently around the little animal and slowly withdrew him from her cloak. His head came out first. His black eyes seemed curious as he looked around. He did not seem the least bit frightened of the women. His head swiveled left and right.
There were a few oohs and ahhs around the cabin.
Mate quickly crawled completely free of the concealing garment and stretched. He was a little larger than Tinker, but was identical in most other ways except the obvious one. His fur was long, silky and a brilliant white. He sat on Toria’s lap and raised up so that he could look into her eyes. There were hushed giggles around them now. Mate continued to stare deeply. The giggles ceased. It was obvious to the others that something was happening. The moment stretched out. Neither Toria nor Mate moved or made a sound.
Then, Toria blinked. Her eyes focused and she smiled slightly and tickled Mate’s throat with her index finger.
The questions streamed in:
“What happened?”
“Did he speak to you?”
“What’d he say?”
Toria held up a hand to silence them all. “He…connected with me, with my mind. He makes his feelings known to me with images and emotions. He’s excited to be here, he wants to learn more about me and about us. He wants me to give him a name.”
More questions and comments:
“A name, what do you mean?”
“Doesn’t he already have a name?”
“He’s white like snow. How about Snow for a name?”
“No, you can’t call him snow. How about Lyyl, like your cousin?”
She held her hand up again. “I don’t know what to call him now, but the name is very important to him, and I must give it due thought. He’s been waiting a long time for it. Somehow…for some reason…he has come to me for it.”
Tay, who was still sitting cross-legged next to her on the hammock touched her shoulder. “I heard that Tinker was sent to join Tag-Gar and guide him to his destiny of helping us defeat the Greys. Do you think he is here to help you on some… quest?”
Toria looked at her new friend. His large black eyes stared back. His little hands scratched at his side eliciting laughter from her and the other women gathered around the hammock. The feeling of attachment that she felt growing in her was unmistakable. She was already bonded to the strange animal in ways that she had never before experienced.
Toria looked at Tay. “I really don’t know just yet, but, I think so. I think he is here to help me…to help us…accomplish our mission. I think that, if we are successful, our success will have an impact on many people. Right now, that’s about all I can tell you. I think he needs time to examine me, my mind. As he gets to know more about me, I will learn more about him.”
One of the older women raised her hand as if she were still in military training. “Do you think he would
let us pet him?”
Every other hand in the room shot up.
***
Taggart stowed his gear and weapons except for his dagger and mace, both of which he had in his belt. He examined the closet-sized private cabin that he had been assigned as the commander of the Olvion forces. He then accepted a bowl of steaming hot soup from the steward in the galley. He took it out on the main deck and ate it there, being amazed at how flavorful it was. He had been given a chunk of black bread to go with the stew and this he fed to Tinker in pinches as she sat in her favored spot on his shoulder. Now done with his dinner he watched the moons and stars overhead. The gentle swaying of the ship made it appear as though they were rocking to and fro.
His thoughts inevitably went to Dwan. As he thought of the treatment that she might be receiving a block of granite formed in his gut. He thought back to when he had first arrived in this strange and wonderful world. He had been frightened and vulnerable, and only Tinker’s guidance had made it possible for him to survive. The first time he had been forced to kill had made him so sick that he emptied his stomach several times. He had killed many times since then and not once enjoyed it. Now, as he thought of the men who had taken his wife and the other women he felt the rock in his gut melt. In its place a fire grew, and it burned hotter and hotter as he thought of the things that he would do to those who had harmed the woman he loved. It would not be a pretty thing, and it would not make him sick.
A thin, high trill came from the animal on his shoulder. It was one of the many sounds that Tinker made, and it was also the most calming. His mind relaxed, and the hate that was growing there ebbed. Tinker was telling him that this should not be undertaken in a state of rage. It needed to be handled with an even temper. He raised a finger to scratch her nape. It was good to have her with him again.
“I see you have decided to enjoy the night sea.”
Fauwler was walking up to him. The captain had a light jacket buckled over his shoulders. He too, had a dagger in his belt.
“It is beautiful,” Taggart said.
“Indeed. I spent two years chained below decks on a rowed Man-O’-War. I told myself if I should ever get free of those chains that I would never again set foot on a ship.”
Taggart raised his eyebrows, inviting an explanation.
“Yes, obviously I changed my mind. I was liberated by the people you call pirates. My jailers were put in my place on the oars, and I was told I could go wherever I pleased once we reached land. It took us ten days and nights to reach Kylee. By that time, after spending so many nights sleeping on the main deck and watching the stars, I knew I was where I was supposed to be.”
Taggart turned so that he could face the man. “From slave to Captain. Quite a story.”
Fauwler looked out at the sea. He breathed in deeply of the salt air and exhaled. “Yes, quite a story. You see Tag-Gar...”
Taggart stopped him. “Please, among my friends I am called Tag.”
Fauwler smiled and nodded. “Tag, then. I like it. A short and simple name for a complicated man. So we are friends then?”
Taggart swept his hand out to take in the ship. “If we were not friends we would not be here with you. My wife is in the hands of kidnappers and slavers. If you help me to get her back I will be your friend for life.”
Another smile. “Ah, but not all of your people feel the same. I have seen the expressions of your warriors. My people are fighting men, and they fear no enemy, but your warriors are another thing entirely. Is it true that they are trained to fight while still children?”
“That is certainly true of the warriors of Olvion. The other three kingdoms all have training regimens that are different, but similar. I think you would find all of our people equally skilled at combat.”
“Indeed. Well, My Large Friend, they will need to be. There are many in Kylee who have the same morals as Tallun and Lampte. There are others who will fight you simply because you are not of Kylee. We have been training and preparing for invasion for many years. Thus far we have been able to repel every attempt. Coming in from the sea and the jungle at the same time is the only way we have any chance at success.”
Taggart searched the pirate’s face in the dimness of the evening. There was sadness in his eyes. “What is it?”
Fauwler leaned against a deck stanchion. “Kylee is my home. The people there are my friends. Many of them are good people who are there because the way of the outlaw is the only life that offered them freedom. They will fight to keep that freedom, or at least the illusion of it. Regardless of whether we are successful or not, many of those people, my friends, will die. All because I and some others among them think we can have better.”
Taggart put his hand on the seaman’s shoulder. “From what you have told me of the history of Kylee, it started out as a noble effort to offer basic human dignity to all. Now, that noble aim has been perverted. It is no longer an escape from slavery, but the means by which others are enslaved. If there was a way to free my wife and the others peacefully we would do so.
“I have told you of my history. In my world we also had many countries that were ruled by tyrants. Like in Kylee, those who valued and sought personal liberty went to a new land that we named America and established a government that protected the rights of the individual. Those who lust for power are always looking for ways to obtain it. There were many times that we had to fight to keep our liberties and many died doing so. One of our founding fathers, Thomas Jefferson, issued a quote that I learned as a boy and have never forgotten. He said ‘The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants’.”
Fauwler’s face relaxed a bit and he smiled. “This was a wise man, this Thomas Jefferson.” He looked back out at the passing sea. “I know that it is right to fight against those who would make slavers of us. I just wonder how I will be perceived by my friends once this is all over.”
Taggart picked up his empty bowl and stood. Tinker still clung to a lock of his hair to keep her balance. Fauwler couldn’t resist the urge to stroke her chin with his finger. She closed her eyes and trilled again.
“Well, Captain,” Taggart said, “like those who fought for our liberties in early America, you must trust the people to make the right choice. Another quote from my world says “People ultimately get the government they deserve”.
Taggart turned and walked away. Fauwler watched the big man as he descended a ladder leading to the lower decks. When he was gone the pirate looked back at the sea.
“Indeed.”
***
After returning to his cabin Taggart heard a knock. He opened the door to find Toria standing there with Mate in her arms. He smiled and stood aside to allow her entrance. She was no sooner inside than Mate leapt from her arms to the hammock in which Tinker lay. The two animals nuzzled and chittered back and forth to each other.
Taggart pointed to the hammock, and Toria sat on the side opposite the two Mountain Children. She watched the interplay between them for a few seconds then turned her attention back to Taggart.
“Tag, I hope I’m not inconveniencing you, but I had to get away from the other women. They are all wonderful, and they’ve treated me really nicely, but they can’t stay away from him.”
He nodded. “They do have a way of attracting attention.”
“Yes, but I also have a question to ask you. How did you decide on the name for Tinker? What is a Tinker? I’ve never heard of a Tinker.”
Taggart held up a hand to stop her gushing. “I actually did not decide on her name. Oh, I offered her many ideas, but she picked Tinker herself.”
“But, how did you come to even offer that name?”
Taggart went over to the hammock and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her. “Okay. There is a story in my world about a magical boy who could fly and lived in a place called “Never Neverland. It was a wondrous world which had mermaids, large predatory reptiles and even pirates who travelled in flying ships. Even this r
emarkable boy needed help and advice, however, and he got it from another magical being named Tinkerbell.”
Toria started to point out the difference in the names, but Taggart stopped her with a raised hand.
“I know. Anyway, Tinkerbell was a tiny little girl about the size of one of our flitter-bugs. She was able to fly, and she shined like a glow-leaf while doing so. I first suggested the name Tinkerbell to her, but she fussed until I shortened it to Tinker.”
Toria scratched at her ear as she thought, then looked up. “And the boy? The magical boy, what was his name?”
“Peter Pan.”
While they were conversing they were unaware that their two furry companions were watching and listening to them. Mate was especially engrossed in their discussion. His tail flitted in every direction. Tinker watched Mate instead of the two humans. He was emitting emotions and excitement. He was standing up now on his two hind legs as his muzzle wiggled.
Toria finally noticed the little creature. She smiled and patted her lap. Mate stepped closer and put his hands on her knee. He reached out and connected to the mindscent. Toria’s face went slack and devoid of all expression momentarily as she experienced the juncture. Then she emerged from her trance and started to pet him, stroking the fur on his back. Mate rose up until his eyes were even with hers.
Taggart silently watched the interplay between them.
Toria smiled. “Would you like to be named Peter?”
The only change to him was the spiking of the fur on his tail.
Toria frowned for a second then looked at him hopefully. “How about Pan? Would you like your name to be Pan?”
Toria flinched as the little animal unexpectedly leapt into the air and executed a perfect backflip, landing on all fours and trilling loudly. Tinker joined in with her own sounds, and the two chased each other around in a tight circle on the hammock. They sent waves of happiness and elation out to their human friends.
The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion Page 28
