Zypheria's Call (A Tanyth Fairport Adventure)

by Nathan Lowell

  Rebecca didn’t stir even as the bell dinged a few times somewhere above them.

  Tanyth climbed back into her bunk as the only practical place to be and wondered if she would have to spend the entire trip sleeping. The brisk wind, warm food, and gentle rolling of the ship conspired to push her over the edge and back into slumber once more.

  The nest moved again. She groomed herself and then the babies. They fed now and would be quiet later. She’d be able to hunt. Bread would be good and a walk to the water. There was a smell of something new in the Big Place. Sometimes there was new nest material, things she could shred with tooth and claw. For now, there was the humming that meant she couldn’t go outside. She didn’t mind. It was cozy in the den with her sisters near and the male guarding them all. Later she could explore, but now the babies needed to suckle. She shifted her weight and they pressed against her.

  Tanyth awoke at the sound of feet running on deck and the memory of a bell dinging. She felt warm and comfortable in her nest. The thought set her heart racing and she all but threw herself out of the bunk, looking at her hands and feet in alarm until she counted the familiar numbers of fingers and saw her stocking-clad feet on the rough, wooden decking. She scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands and raked her hair back, feeling the coarse texture of gray, long familiar to the skin of her fingers. She took a deep breath and blew it out.

  “What is it, mum?” Rebecca sat halfway up, here eyes wide in alarm. “Are you all right?”

  “Not mad,” Tanyth muttered. “I’m not goin’ mad.”

  “’Course not, mum,” Rebecca said. “Did you have a dream?”

  Tanyth took a deep breath and blew it out. “Yeah. Dream. Scared me. That’s all.” She looked across at Rebecca. “Sorry to wake you, my dear. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Rebecca shook her head. “You didn’t, mum. The bell and the stompin’ around on deck did that.”

  Tanyth crossed to the small window and looked out at the sea rushing by. Long, smooth rollers stretched to the horizon even as the water’s surface dappled at the touch of the breezes flowing by. She took deep breaths and rested her forehead against the cold glass, savoring the smoothness, savoring the cool on her fevered brow.

  She cast her eye around the tiny cabin. “I may not be mad now, but I might if I spend a week in here,” she murmured. Her eye caught on the deep blue of her new coat.

  Rebecca put her head down on her pillow again, eyes already drooping. “What’ll you do, mum?”

  Tanyth pushed the hair away from the younger woman’s brow. “I have a mind to make myself useful. You sleep. I’ll get out of here and leave you to it.”

  Rebecca gave a small, contented sounding sigh and her eyelids fluttered closed again.

  Tanyth pulled the coat from its peg, shrugged it on and headed for the deck.

  The rolling of the ship didn’t bother her any more. Some part of her brain managed her feet without her knowledge. She strolled up and down the ship looking at everything. She climbed up to the raised portion of the bow and walked all the way to the front of the ship. For one fleeting moment, a dream she once had of a clear morning and a cold wind layered over her sight and gave her an odd feeling, but the low smudge of land that should be there—she turned her head to make sure—was missing. The ship’s rise and fall was more pronounced at the bow, the distance traveled greater than in the middle of the ship where the seesaw motion found its axis. The rising bow almost flung her into the air on the upward swing and the deck all but fell out from under her boots on the downward. The feeling in her belly made her giddy. She smiled into the teeth of the wind even as a frisson of fear tickled the backs of her knees.

  She turned and made her way aft, passing a few sailors sitting cross-legged against the inner rail in the sun. They looked up from their work and nodded to her, each giving a friendly smile and a nod. She was surprised to see some of them knitting while others worked bits of rope or carved small pieces of wood. She felt over dressed in her heavy, new woolens while many of the sailors seemed to be comfortable sitting in short pants and shirtsleeves.

  At the stern, a pair of stairways led up to a raised deck that formed the roof of her cabin. Higher than the main deck, a large, spoked wheel held pride of place behind a fat pillar. She found Mr. Groves and the bosun standing there along with another sailor who held the great wheel by its spokes, his eyes on the bow and his legs flexing to keep the wheel steady.

  Mr. Groves crossed to her even before she’d gotten all the way up the ladder. “Good day, mum,” he said, offering his arm and leading her to the upper side of the slanted deck. “I see you’ve gotten your sea legs under you.”

  She smiled and nodded. “A young man named Scooter helped me this mornin’ and I seem to have found the way of it.”

  He turned and leaned his elbow against the railing. “This is the bridge, mum. It’s where we steer the ship and pass the orders to the crew.”

  “You spend your time up here, then, do you?”

  “Yes, mum. Most of it. When I’m not needed elsewhere or sleeping.”

  She turned and scanned the horizon and looked forward along the length of the vessel. “It’s a good view from here.” She squinted up into the bright sun and then looked at the wide, foaming vee of the ship’s passage. She scanned the horizon in that direction and saw nothing. “No land?”

  Mr. Groves smiled. “No, mum, we left land behind sometime in the night. We should see the northern shores in a week, perhaps. In the meantime, we sail merrily along and hope for good weather.”

  “How far are you ahead of the others?”

  “The others, mum?”

  “Yes, the other ships bound for North Haven. Like that fella last night...It was just last night, wasn’t it?”

  He laughed. “Yes, mum. It was just last night, although being out here has a way of making you forget the time.”

  A loud clang-clang startled Tanyth. She hadn’t been looking in that direction but the bosun had crossed to the ship’s bell and given its lanyard a pair of good tugs.

  “Well, except for that,” Groves said with a small smile. “The days do tend to blend together, though.”

  Tanyth cast her eyes forward across the sailors at the railing again and nodded. “I can see where it would. What do passengers do on this voyage?” She squinted up to see his face.

  “Bored already, mum?” he asked.

  “Let’s just say, I’m not used ta just sittin’ ’round and breathin’.”

  “Well,” he said, “most of them stay pretty close to their compartments. Reading or writing, I imagine. Most of them are businessmen who seldom venture out much. Almost all of them take a couple turns of the deck every day. Some of them work passage, too. That keeps them busy and, if they’re up to the task, works out well for everybody concerned.”

  “I see,” she said. “I’ll have to try to find something to fill the time then, won’t I?”

  Mr. Groves nodded with a sympathetic shrug. “Father has a small library in his cabin. You might ask for a book to read if you like. You’re invited to dinner tonight as well. The evenings are a bit more relaxed.”

  “Mr. Groves? We’re comin’ up on the waypoint.” The bosun’s voice carved through the wind.

  “Thank you, bosun. Pass the word,” Groves called back.

  Tanyth saw men moving even before the bosun started shouting orders and crewmen came, seemingly out of the deck planks themselves and took up stations around the deck. Scooter disappeared down the companionway and emerged a few moments later with a blinking Rebecca. They took up station holding a rope and looked to the bosun.

  “Mum? We’re going to come about,” Mr. Groves said. “That means change direction on the ship. You need to be down below. If you stand by the companionway below, you’ll be able to see everything and not be in any danger.”

  “You mean I’ll be out of the way there?” she said, her mouth turning up on one side.

  “Yes, mum, that, too.” H
e offered his arm and took her back to the stairway that led back to the deck. “And, mum? This is the bridge. Please don’t come up here again unless invited. It’s dangerous for you and a distraction to the crew.” He smiled. “It’s nothing personal, mum.”

  She looked around at all the eyes on her and realized the truth of the matter. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Groves. It won’t happen again.”

  “Thanks for your understanding, mum.”

  She made her way down the few steps and then stood leaning against the bulkhead near the head of the stairs into the ship. She looked up to see Mr. Groves watching her. He gave her a nod and a smile before disappearing back onto the bridge.

  Several men shouted and there was a moment where nothing seemed to happen.

  She heard the bosun bellow, “Ready about!”

  Everybody in her sight seemed to flex and then freeze in place, some holding ropes, some apparently just holding on.

  “Hard a-lee!”

  Then everybody on deck seemed to explode into action. The men holding ropes all pulled furiously. She realized that some of the men who appeared to be just holding on, held the handles to winches that they strained against to turn. Tanyth became aware of the great bow of the ship shifting direction and the angle of the shadows on the deck spun as the vessel came around, leveled off, and then started heeling over on the other side.

  “Belay and secure sheets and running gear!”

  The ship settled on its new course and the wind that had been coming across the deck from one angle, now came across the opposite side as the ship began its stately rise and fall, but with the deck pitched to the right rather than the left.

  All together it lasted only a few minutes, but the exercise left Tanyth breathless just watching it.

  The sailors went back to whatever they were doing before the bosun started hollering and Tanyth took her new knowledge of the way ships worked to the deckhouse to have a chat with Cook. Rebecca passed her going the other way. She gave Tanyth a nod and a tired smile before disappearing down the companionway.

  That evening, as promised, the captain invited Tanyth to dine in the cabin with him. Mr. Jameson, the second mate, joined them. He turned out to be a pinch-faced man, perhaps a year or two older than the younger Mr. Groves. With the help of a couple of sailors, Cook delivered some china chafing dishes, a platter of carved meats, and a large pot of tea before slipping out of the cabin with a wink and a nod.

  “Well, mum? How was your first day aboard?” the captain asked by way of opening the evening’s discussion.

  Tanyth smiled and accepted a mug of tea. “It’s gone quickly, I must say. I take it all the ship’s departures aren’t so...” she searched for a word that didn’t imply criticism.

  “Precipitous?” the captain suggested.

  “Yes, precipitous.”

  The captain beamed. “No, mum, but that one’s the special one. First out is generally first back.”

  “And are we?” she asked. “First out?”

  The captain nodded and turned to Jameson. “How much of a lead do you reckon, Mr. Jameson?”

  Jameson frowned in consideration and shook his head. “As much as half a day, sir. I don’t think the Red Cloud could get her crew back before the tide changed, and she draws half again more than we do. Sea Rover and Fair Wind hadn’t even recalled crews by the time I got the word. We were well past the breakwater before the tide changed.”

  The captain nodded. “Aye, and with that harbor and that tide? They’d have been better served to wait until full tide and sail out on the change.”

  They enjoyed the meal for a moment before the captain shook his head. “And what possessed Robertson to bring us that last crate? Just when we’re getting underway.” He tsked and sopped up his soup with a bit of bread. “You did get it secured below, didn’t you?”

  “Of course, Captain. It’s lashed down in the main hold. Not hefty enough to matter if it shifts, but Holt and Murray lashed it good and I checked.”

  “Excellent.” The captain turned to Tanyth. “Sorry, mum. Business is like that. No matter how much a man tries, when you work for yourself, you’ve either got a slave driver for a master or a fool. Either way is a problem. Murial gives me a chewing every time I talk shop at the table.”

  “I understand, Captain. Since our safe arrival sorta needs your attention, I’m happy to share with Mr. Jameson here.”

  Tanyth saw a smile flicker across Jameson’s face before he tamped it down.

  “So, do you think we’ve enough of a lead?” Tanyth asked.

  The captain grimaced and gave his head a shake. “Can’t rightly say. It’s a big ocean and they could be just over the horizon and go by us.”

  Mr. Jameson said, “A lot depends on the weather—and the ice, mum. If we get a good blow, we might get pushed well off course, or maybe pushed way ahead.”

  Captain Groves nodded. “Too right, Jameson. Too right.” He glanced up at Tanyth. “We’re only on the first day, mum, and there’s lots of days and nights left to go before we get there. We made it out first, and we’ve a good course plotted. Staying on it will be the key.”

  “Won’t they have the same course?” Tanyth asked.

  “Maybe,” the captain agreed, “if the best course were a straight one. There’s currents out here, mum, vast rivers in the ocean that can drag you in directions you can’t always see.”

  “Sorta like tryin’ to swim straight across a stream?” Tanyth asked

  “Exactly so, mum. Exactly. If you don’t know they’re there, you can wind up somewhere you don’t want to be.”

  Tanyth wondered if anybody who got to be a captain on a ship that plied these waters would likely be caught in such an error of ignorance, but she kept the notion to herself.

  “And the ice?” she asked, as much to be polite as wanting an answer.

  Jameson said, “When the ice breaks up, it doesn’t just melt, mum. Wind and wave break it loose from the shore. Tides carry it out to sea. Sometimes it forms rafts, piled up and staying together for days, weeks even.”

  “So not something we’d want ta go sailin’ into, I take it?” she asked.

  Jameson’s narrow face cracking into an alarming grin.”That’s right, mum. A bad strike could stave a hole in the side right at the waterline. Even break the stem. That’s as dangerous as a fire, mum. Maybe more.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about, mum,” the captain said. “It’ll be days before we’re far enough north and we can usually spot big ice pretty handily.” He shot Jameson a quelling look that Tanyth didn’t think she was supposed to see.

  “Well, it certainly sounds like an adventure,” she said.

  “And how about you, mum?” Jameson asked. “What takes you to North Haven so early in the season?”

  “I’m goin’ up to study the plants and such,” Tanyth said. “I’ve spent over twenty winters travelin’ and collectin’ plant lore and the like.”

  “Your husband must be a very understanding man, mum,” Jameson said.

  “Not really,” Tanyth answered before considering where that line of conversation might go. She forestalled the inevitable by turning to the captain. “You must have a lot of stories about the north lands. Do you know much about North Haven?”

  He pushed his empty plate away and sat back in his chair. “Well, mum. I’ve not spent a great deal of time there, you understand. Just long enough to get in, unload, load up, and get out again.” He smiled indulgently. “Murial gets worried if I’m gone too long.”

  “How about you, Mr. Jameson? Any interestin’ stories?”

  Jameson shook his head with a glance at the captain. “Nothing worth sharing, mum. Nothing decent.”

  That piqued Tanyth’s interest but she tamped down the spark. Her eyes came to rest on a bookshelf built into bulkhead beside the door. “Are you a big reader, Captain?”

  He glanced at the books. “I turn a page now and again on a slow voyage, aye, mum. I think I’ve read most of them at least once
. Murial keeps finding new ones while I’m at sea and then I have to bring them out here. They help pass the time.” He waved a hand. “Please, feel free to borrow anything you might fancy there. If you really like it, I might be persuaded to let you keep it. Just to make room for new books, you understand.”

  Tanyth spotted a twinkle in the captain’s eye and even Jameson hid a grin behind his napkin. “Thank you, Captain. I travel light, but I might borrow one or two, just to pass the time, as you say.”

  From above they heard six bells. “Well,” the captain said, “thank you for sharing my table, mum. I’ll look forward to tomorrow night and you can regale me with tales of the excitement you’ll undoubtedly find aboard.” His sardonic smile held more self-deprecation than actual bite, as if he knew that being passenger was only slightly less boring that watching grass grow.

  She chuckled. “You never know, Captain. I might find something that’s worthy of a dinnertime tale or two.”

  He stood and bowed over her hand. “If anyone can, mum, I do believe you’re the one.” He waved at the bookshelf again. “Help yourself to anything you find there. I need to make my rounds, check in with Benjamin. Mr. Jameson will see you to your cabin, mum.”

  “Thank you, Captain.”

  He bustled out and Tanyth looked to Jameson who just shrugged. “Does he think I’m gonna get rolled on the way down the hall, Mr. Jameson?”

  He threw back his head and laughed. It was the most animation Tanyth had seen from the man all during dinner. “No, mum,” he said. “He’s just a bit—pardon the expresssion, mum—old fashioned.”

  She grinned. “I’ve heard the term a time or two, Mr. Jameson.” She jerked her chin at the captain’s bookshelf. “Anything worth readin’ in that pile?”

  Jameson scrunched up his face in thought, his eyes traversing the shelves. “Murial Groves has a good eye, mum. Almost everything in there is worth the read, I think. There’s a good mix of adventure stories, romantic stories, even some collections of shorter ones for those who lack the patience to wade through deeper water, as it were, mum.”