The Gantlet

by Linda L. Dunlap

  She was overwhelmed by the emotions the young captain stirred, and it made her wonder if her human ancestors were responsible for her new feelings. She was dizzy, and her heart skipped some beats standing close to the tall, handsome man. Breanna had a new feeling inside her and knew she couldn’t get it out even if she wished to remove it. She stepped away, fearful of what his thoughts might tell her.

  Meanwhile, Tom, who had once been the keeper of accounts for a man who bought and sold turnips and potatoes, was deeply involved in the problem of the captain’s book. The man had taught Tom the basics of book accounts, that what was bought for a halfpenny and sold for a penny gave coin to the pocket of the man who owned it all.

  ’Tis no different with turnips and potatoes, or bales of cloth and barrels of oil. Figures have to match, and old Tom knows the trick to make them work.

  After a few minutes, he got up from the desk and turned it back to the captain.

  “Here you be, captain, your book is fixed on them lines.”

  “You did it? You fixed the book, got the numbers to match?” the captain asked, surprised. He had never expected the stranger in the little green hat to work out the accounts problem.

  “Aye, and if you’re a man of your word, there’ll be a cabin, and my two can go and rest in it.” Tom was waiting, not working any more until he saw whether the captain was going to live up to his promise.

  “And I am a man of my word, Tom Simpkin. If you want a job for the journey and your passage paid, you have it. Show me how much silver you can pay for your young ’uns and I’ll take what is fair.”

  Tom removed all the coin he had, and the captain took half of it, leaving enough for a cart ride when they arrived at Vadar. And there was coin to be made on the game of stones as the ship crossed the sea. It was all very exciting for the tinker, who had always wanted to visit the old lands before he died. He glanced at Sean, who was all agog over the trappings of the ship and ready to jump and climb the sails. And the lass, she seemed struck by something, her face all flushed. Must be the sea air working on both of ’em.

  “Captain,” Tom said, looking up at the young man who would be his employer for the trip. “Captain, do you have a given name?”

  “Aye,” said the captain, “it’s Rand Winter, but most call me Captain Rand. Do as you like. Now let me show you the cabin, though it’s small, as they all are on the ship, it has a few comforts.”

  He led them down into the ship’s belly, past the galley and the mates’ cabins, toward the biggest room on the ship.

  “Here it is, and if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get my things out of the room.”

  “Captain Rand, you have given us your cabin,” Tom said in amazement.

  “Aye, I’m a man of my word. My cabins are full—I didn’t tell you an untruth. I’ll sleep in the wheelhouse.”

  “You can keep your goods in the room, captain—they’ll not be bothered. We’re poor, but honest folk,” Tom said quietly.

  “Can I help on deck?” Sean asked the captain. “I’m strong and can carry heavy loads, and I’m quick-thinking.”

  “Aye, you can. I’ll need some buckets carried after the lot gets seasick the first few times. There’ll be vomitus all over the deck. Think on your question when it’s time to wash down the slick boards.”

  Breanna went quietly into the cabin and began searching for a bed for herself. Above the captain’s bed on the wall was a shelf the width of a man and longer. She saw there was room for her to sleep if she tied herself in at night. The ship would roll in high seas, she heard one of the mates say as they passed by. She thought of asking the captain for a piece of cloth to make a curtain for her privacy, but her question would wait for later. It was necessary she get Kit settled in the room, and explain he would be able to find mice aplenty in the lower part of the ship, but he must stay hidden away from the crew members. Before the ship sailed, she gave him a choice of remaining in the forested area, or going with his two-legged family. He chose to hide inside Breanna’s cape, and clung to her leg when she mentioned leaving him.

  “Ah well, little Kit,” she yipped, “you will be traveling across a great sea and you may lose your life as we may lose ours. There’re storms, and other ships can wreck us. You don’t have to go. Fox families live near the city, and you might one day find a mate there. Tell me now, and I’ll take you back, else we will hide you in the room.”

  Again, the fox hid itself in her clothing, and told her he would stay with her. His language was easy for her after so long, but sometimes she forgot Tom was unaware of her ability to communicate with all living things. He asked her why she made the yipping noises. She sighed and remembered her life before the memories, how much simpler it was back then.

  At supper, the men from the ship gathered in the galley with the passengers. There were ten others besides Tom’s crew: nine merchants and one bricklayer, all hoping to improve their business in the lands across the sea. Breanna wore her ragged boy’s britches, and covered her hair, keeping as much of herself out of sight as possible. That night as they were leaving the galley, Breanna asked the captain about some fabric she might use to make a curtain for her shelf-bed, and he agreed to find something for her. True to his word, he returned to the cabin within the hour and handed over several yards of blue flowered silk. She rubbed her hands over it and marveled at its sheen.

  “Captain, this is much too nice for a curtain. It is for dressmaking, and it would be such a waste to use it for anything else.”

  “Aye, but that’s all there is, and I have plenty. You may have it to do as you will. Make yourself a dress if you’ve a mind to do it. It’s no skin off my nose if you do.”

  He quickly turned and left before Breanna could thank him.

  The next day she stayed inside the cabin as the rest of the load was put on the Mede Truheart and all was made ready to leave the harbor of Lutz. She hoped they would be at sea before any of the men from the tavern spied Tom on the deck of the ship.

  The ship finally sailed, its decks loaded with stacks of trading goods piled high. The crew shouted to one another as they threw hemp ropes across the watertight covers and secured the cargo against storm waves. The belly of the ship was filled as well, causing it to float low in the water. Sean got busy immediately when they sailed, for the captain put him to sweeping water, and showed him how to turn on the bilge pump when the sea sloshed onto the decks.

  The ten other passengers grew sick the first day out and began retching, but Sean and Breanna had grown accustomed to the unsteady raft, which was akin to the rolling of the ship on the sea. Neither of them was affected, but Tom couldn’t leave the cabin for the first three days. When he finally arose, his color was poor and he found food to be unappealing. As a result, he began to grow thin.

  She wished there was a way to help him, but there was little she could do except tell him it would end soon. The ship tossed and rolled with the seas rough waves, but most of the passengers found their sea legs in a few days. Tom was the exception. Finally, Breanna went to the captain and offered to take over her poppa’s duties until he was back on his feet. He looked at her with suspicion, not believing she was capable, but the language of figures was no different from the language of a living thing. She found if the numbers were spoken aloud, she understood their meaning and how to manage the accounts book by pairing those sounding alike. It was a strange system, but it worked.

  Finally, one morning Tom entered the captain’s office and took back his duties. He lasted until teatime, but the next day he worked longer, until one day he managed to stay for the full daylight hours. There was no one happier than Breanna, for she had discovered the accounts life was not for her, even with her abilities.

  The third week at sea, Breanna made a dress for herself. The fact it matched her sleep curtain made it no less beautiful. She silently thanked Alane Vale for teaching her to sew. After supper, she bathed using seawater and rinsed her hair with fresh water from the barrel, drying it well before pulling t
he flowered silk over her head. The silken shine was even more beautiful in the light from candles. She looked into the captain’s mirror and saw that the dress fit, its darted front and scoop neck a complement to her smooth skin. The few freckles on her nose shone brighter against the blue of the cloth, and her hair’s red curls lay softly against her neck and shoulders. She was pleased with her work, and was about to remove the garment when the door burst open.

  The captain stood speechless, staring with his mouth open and an apology stuck in his throat. As he continued to ogle her, the vision of the former raggedly dressed girl now appearing as a princess overwhelmed him, for it was all so unexpected.

  “Who are you?” he asked when he could finally speak. “You are not Tom’s child.”

  “No, I am not. My name is Breanna Ascroft. I am a Qay from Nore Mountain. Tom is my friend, and he has saved me many times from those who would hurt me.” She saw no reason to continue the lie, for the truth was harmless to the captain and his ship unless Yahmara found her there.

  “Why did you lie to me?” he asked, his green eyes bright with emotion.

  “What would you have had me do? Some think me a child, while others would have me become older, coarser. Tom protected me by calling me his daughter, for my mam and poppa are far, far away.” She told him the story, but only briefly, not wanting to give him too much to think about. She chose not to mention the witch, for there was nothing to be done about her.

  “You say you are Qay. I know nothing of your people.” It was the part she had been dreading, the part of her life different from his.

  “Qays took their name from the Darth of Qayborn centuries ago. My ancestors were elves, who were denied homes in the Haven of Pentara Wood after they took mates from the family of men. I am Lord Eliandor’s many times great-grandchild, and like my mother, I am of both elfkind and mankind. I am Qay.”

  She stood perfectly still in the flowered silk dress, its beauty far from matching her own. The flush on her cheeks and lips made her look more innocent than before, as though she had come from another world.

  Breanna’s heart was racing and her emotions were in chaos. He must think me a terrible soul, a liar, and a cheat, she thought. I wish I could fly from this room and never look back.

  Rand Winter had lived an easy life in the home of his parents. His mam was from a wealthy family, and made their life better with her riches, but when he had become a man of eighteen years, he gave up the easy life and began work on the Mede Truheart, earning his bread and ale. That was almost two years earlier. Since then, his life had been difficult at times, with ship’s captains who didn’t pay his wages, and storms that drowned men of his crew. He had learned hardships, but he had suffered nothing compared to the girl standing before him, who told of being captured by a large bird and of losing her own family.

  “What age are you?” he asked. She appeared young, yet in some ways older than him.

  “I’ll have my sixteenth summer before we reach the shore,” Breanna said, no longer hesitant to answer any question asked. “I’m sorry, captain, for misleading you.”

  “You lied to me before, but I should believe you now? How do I know you aren’t telling a wild story because it suits?” Rand stared into her eyes, the deep blue mesmerizing him. He shook his head and then his whole body, hoping to remove whatever spell held him. “I have work to do. I came in here to get my storm gear, for there is a gale blowing in. You should tell your…whatever relation Tom is to you to tie down his possessions.”

  “Are you concerned with the storm?” Breanna asked. Her memory of the demons sent by Yahmara were still fresh and painful. “Can I help on deck?”

  “You? What could you do?” He wasn’t trying to hurt her; he was mostly curious.

  “I have some experience with boats, and I don’t get sick when the waves toss us about,” she said, wishing he would leave so she could change in her real clothing. “I also understand storms,” she added. “Sean and I have been through terrible winds.”

  “No, stay inside,” the captain said distractedly. “I may send your…brother inside. It’s much safer in the cabin during a blowing storm.”

  “Captain, please, I’m sorry for the deception. There was no malice intended.”

  “Aye, it’s what all liars say.” He wasn’t about to forget what she had made him believe. Grabbing his rain gear from the hook, he closed the door behind him, feeling the warmth drain from his body, as though he had left a part of himself in the cabin with the girl. It was a physical thing, something he’d never felt before around women. After a moment outside on deck, the tossing of the waves and lightning in the northwest made him forget everything except making his ship safe against whatever was coming toward them.

  Breanna quickly removed the dress and tore it into many pieces, for its shimmering presence had become offensive to her, reminding her of the captain’s disgust after learning the truth. She had known the lie would show itself but hadn’t been prepared when the weight of it doomed their relationship. Part of her ached for the loss, as his eyes dismissed her as unworthy. Maybe he could forgive her one day, and they could be friends again, but she wondered if he would ever really care.

  Outside the cabin, the storm blew and the sails filled as the captain yelled to the crew, “Batten down the hatches and lower all sails except amidships.”

  Lightning played in a solid line along the horizon, outlining ominous, dark clouds boiling upward on a course toward the Mede Truheart.

  “Sean,” the captain yelled, “go to the cabin, or tether yourself to a mast. The wind will have no mercy and will toss you overboard.”

  Heavy sheets of rain battered the ship and its crew, and each drop pushed by the strong wind was a dart against bare skin. Breanna stood on deck, staring into the clouds, searching for Yahmara’s work, but the wind appeared to be a natural storm untouched by demons. Its fury descended upon the crew and passengers of the Mede Truheart and almost washed two curious passengers overboard. The others disappeared below deck, sickened by the heaving of the ship. Tom had been in the wheelhouse working the book when the storm began, but he too was holding his stomach, headed for the cabin.

  “Captain says to tie your possessions down; they’ll be thrown forth and back if you don’t,” Breanna said loudly to Tom.

  “Come inside the cabin,” he yelled, darting toward the descending steps. “’Tis dangerous here with the boat tossing about.” He grabbed a loose bucket from the deck on his way down, the sounds of his retching fading as he left her sight. She sighed, dreading to be in the same cabin with him as long as he was vomiting. Thankfully, she and Sean were not ill. She vowed to find another safe place to spend the night, out of the cabin.

  The captain was busy in the wheelhouse, his concentration on the ship and cargo. If the bales and his other cargo were lost or damaged, his job would be in jeopardy, and there would be no pay when he returned to port. Sure, it was a gamble on the sea, but being a captain meant he had some control over the way the goods were handled. When the deep hold was packed with bales, Rand made sure the ones on the bottom had legs to keep them dry if water sloshed onto the top deck. The streams would eventually run into the hold, ruining everything exposed to seawater. He was considering the storm and the potential for damage when he saw the girl with her hair wrapped in a shawl and the boys’ clothing covering her again. Unprepared for her appearance, he could only stare, remembering her young body in the silk dress. He called himself foolish and deliberately lifted his eyes to the burgeoning clouds, the storm’s worst still on the way.

  Breanna spread her arms outward, feeling the wind and its power, enjoying the natural fury. She had seen so much magic and witch-work for the last half-year that it felt good to be in a place where the real storms of the world tossed things about without targeting her. She had always enjoyed the wind when it blew hard against her home, for the rain would come afterward, washing the dirt and dust away, nourishing the fields.

  Her shawl blew away, and
she claimed it before it was sent it into the sea. Her hair caught the wind, blinding her as the braid loosened and the long tresses flew with a mind of their own in the blowing rain.

  “Are you daft? Do you have a foolish wish to be blown into the water?” The words came at her from her left side, as Captain Rand surprised her with his presence. “This is a dangerous place,” he said, taking her arm as he guided her to the wheelhouse. “If you must be here, tie yourself onboard, for it will be worse before it gets better.”

  “I didn’t know you were watching me,” she said. “The storm is so strong. I wanted to feel its power.”

  “Aye, you would have felt it soon as it picked you up and threw you into the brink,” he said, handing her an old rag to wipe the rain from her face. “Your hair’s a mess, by the way.”

  She smiled at him, the wet hair around her face making her look even younger than her fifteen years. “At least you’re speaking to me,” she said, wiping away water.

  He looked up from the ship’s wheel and grinned at her for a moment.

  “A’right, it’s hard to stay mad at a foolish girl.”

  “Do you think I am a foolish girl?” she asked, shivering from the cold rain.

  “And why wouldn’t I? You were trying to fly with the storm.” The captain was back in charge, the ship being tossed by the wind his major concern. “You should return to the cabin. You’ll be safer.”

  “Tom is seasick. Ugh. I don’t want to go back there for a while. Maybe never.”

  “And what will you do with little red mouse catcher if you don’t go back?” he asked, his eyes on the water.

  “Oh, you’ve seen Kit. I’m sorry, but he wanted to come with us,” she said, trying to apologize before he got angry again.

  “And I suppose you can talk to animals, find out what they want to do, whether they’re catching any mice in the wheelhouse?”