Insist that friendship won’t be found
Dismiss each chance with spite and sound
And pass, unloved, into the ground?
* * * * *
There were many ways in which Jas Hawkesbury and his Captain differed. One of those ways was in their reaction to the unknown.
Kaille, though not overly strict about his schedule, had certain routines he could not survive without. He avoided change for change’s sake and rarely felt the gnawing of curiosity.
Jas, however, could not resist a mystery, and put in the present context, he had every intention of scrapping the Turnagain’s carefully planned route in order to follow the whims of the inscrutable Scribe.
All that remained was to convince the Captain.
“I can feel it, Eli,” Jas was busy saying. He paced around the Captain’s map table with rapid steps. “That sinking ship—”
“Don’t forget that he called it the Illiamnaut,” Kaille offered.
“The Illiamnaut? That’s right. Sweet, buttery gods,” Jas exhaled, running a hand distractedly through his hair. Only a royal ship could be named after the kingdom. He stopped pacing and pounded his hands upon Kaille’s table. “That ship was a royal ship and this gold is part of the quartered royal crown. The rumor goes that it was destroyed under the Usurper’s axe, rent in four and lost forever. Well, there it is.”
“Just sit, I beg you,” pleaded Kaille from the middle of Jas’s circle. He returned his attention to the mangled gold, which sat benignly in front of him. “You’ll give me a headache.”
“Do everything he says,” Jas continued, not listening. “Don’t ask any questions, don’t make any demands. Once we have him out at sea, we can get our answers.”
“I have no intention of torturing him,” Kaille sighed, pinching his temples.
“I never said to torture him,” Jas argued. “Just to put him in a place where he has neither power nor the ability to escape. Either way, this isn’t something you should continue to ignore—”
“I have no intention of ignoring it,” the Captain interrupted. “On the contrary, I believe you’re right. We have stumbled upon something…large. Large things, however, carry with them the likelihood of great trouble, and I’ve decided to avoid trouble.”
“Eli,” Jas said with soft intensity, “our motherland is falling apart under the Usurper’s rule. What should a little ‘trouble’ matter to us if there’s a way we can help—”
“Honestly, Hawkesbury!” Kaille scoffed. “I know you view this encounter as the return of the rightful heir, but think a moment. Isn’t it more likely that the Usurper would hold the remaining royal ships? If this scribe is of any importance, which is unlikely, how do we know he isn’t a spy for Nic Pharus?”
“Good or bad, what does it matter so long as he’s a player?” Jas nodded, as though expressing the point he had been trying to make all along. “If he’s from the enemy side we can tap him for all the information he has. If he’s protecting the heir, then we can play a part in restoring the monarchy.”
“And what if he’s neither?” Kaille breathed.
“Then he’s just a man,” Jas shrugged, “who we’ll return to his family. For a boat-load of gold.”
“Three to one odds on having a quiet, normal life? That’s a mighty gamble,” Kaille whistled, clearly intending to heed no advice.
Jas pointed at the mangled gold that sat upon the map’s central mountain range of Illiamna.
“Or three to two odds that we can be of assistance to our King,” Jas turned the conversation. “I’d say the odds are in our favor.”
The Captain glared at the shiny metal and its perfectly cut jewels, which twinkled happily in the sunlight.
* * * * *
As the morning grew older, Dezadeash was still to be found consulting her bonfire. It takes a great deal of time, you see, to either make an impact on magical energies or to see beyond one’s own time.
“A fire in the daytime?” Fenric asked her as he approached.
Dezadeash looked up from the smoke of her bonfire and smiled. “I have been called that before.”
Fenric returned her smile, gesturing that his bad leg prevented him from joining her at the fire.
“Nothing’s certain yet, but I believe you’ll soon be headed to the Captain’s home in Quillain.” Fenric’s smile had faded. “Sailors are ever the superstitious bunch. I think I’ll have to find you passage by land—“
“You must not worry about me,” Dezadeash said. “It is time to find my own way. I have done what was meant here, now I must move to the next part of my story.”
“You’re a narrator’s dream, to speak with such omniscience,” Fenric teased. “It’s all so certain to you. Would that I had your confidence.”
Dezadeash looked down at her fire, then back at him. “At best, we see shadows in a dark night, dimly. There is no ‘certain,’ only guesses.”
“Uncanny guesses,” Fenric said pointedly. “Guesses that we later learn were correct. I can only hope your guess about the man I’m looking for prove to be as unnervingly precise.”
“You mean to ask, is Benson Rose the one you seek?” Dezadeash asked. “What sort of man is he?”
“Not much of one at all, shockingly,” Fenric said cryptically. “Perhaps that’s what makes him so special.”
“You are worried he will not come with you,” the Tikaani sensed.
“I—” Fenric considered, “I’m worried that I’m mistaken about him. If he doesn’t follow—or if I haven’t found the right person at all—I don’t know that our plan will recover.”
“And what if I tell you that he is nearby?” Dezadeash asked.
“What,” Fenric teased, “did your embers just tell you that?”
“No, my eyes,” Dezadeash calmly answered, pointing behind him.
There was a yell from the front of the ship. Fenric turned.
Standing underneath the flying eagle’s head was Benson Rose, yelling the Scribe’s name up at the wooden vessel. Fenric lifted a sage eyebrow to Dezadeash and began hobbling towards the shouting Rose.
“Fenric!” Benson Rose called again.
“Ah, young Master Rose,” he replied when close enough. “I’m very pleased to see you again, how may I—“
“I’m coming with you,” Rose interrupted. She didn’t have a moment to spare.
“I’m delighted to hear it—” Fenric began jovially, but she shot him down again.
“You promised to help buy a house for my family.”
Fenric nodded, understanding the urgency. “And so I shall, without delay.” He produced a leather pouch full of clanging coins from under his coat. Tossing it to her, he explained, “It’s the last of what I have available to me, though only a small portion of your fee. I trust it will meet your immediate needs.”
Rose’s jaw fell open. She felt the weight of the coins in her hand, clearly holding more money than she had encountered her entire life. In truth Rose, who hadn’t the mind to care for money, was holding more gold than she had ever thought existed. The sudden weight in her hands threw her completely off guard.
“I noticed, as I limped about yesterday,” Fenric offered gently, “some very livable real estate on the western side of town that seemed eager for quick occupancy.”
Rose nodded, only half listening. She stared suspiciously at the satchel. “You…you would just give me this? All at once? How can you be certain I’ll return?”
“I’ve been told that there is no ‘certain,’ only guesses,” Fenric smiled cryptically.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Rose.
“It means that if a satchel of gold is enough to keep you happy for all your days, then you’ll choose to stay here and care for your family, and rightly so,” replied Fenric. “My guess is, however, that you’re not the type to settle for being what the world thinks you ought to be. You, young Master Rose, have the insatiable dream of being more than who you were born. You also have the irrepressibl
e force of will to make it so. Why do I guess you’ll return? Adventure, my friend, for adventure.”
Rose didn’t know what to think of this, but then, she hadn’t known what to think of anything she’d heard him say thus far. Yet, her heart beat faster to hear his lofty words, as though she heard in them the whisper of her destiny. Once more, she shivered under the hot summer sun.
“Listen,” she frowned, scratching her head, “I’m grateful for the help, but I…I’m not who you think I am.”
“Who is, these days?” Fenric chuckled. He turned from her, ending the interview.
Rose said nothing, but raced away from the docks and back towards her family. His laughing rang in her ear.
* * * * *
Above, in the Captain’s Cabin of the Turnagain, three men were speaking. Jas Hawkesbury nodded appreciatively as Captain Kaille informed the formidable Hector Scythe of his promotion.
“I am honored, Captain,” said Hector. His muscles rippled as he bowed his head in thanks. His deep voice boomed through the cabin.
“It’s only natural that you be promoted to First Mate, Hector.” Kaille said dismissively, “You’re among the best sailors I’ve had the privilege to know.”
“It is kind of you to say, Captain,” he said.
“Well, the truth should be easy to say,” Kaille replied. “Prepare us for departure, will you?”
“Aye, Captain,” Hector nodded, turning.
Kaille looked expectantly at Jas as the door closed.
“I’ve always appreciated that he’s a man of few words,” the Captain observed.
“With a presence like that, few words are necessary,” Jas chuckled.
“Another true thing,” Kaille returned. “And I trust that you’re satisfied with me now?”
“Exceedingly,” Jas said smugly. “Now, will you also give me my way with a Second?”
The Captain had to think for a moment. “What, you mean Auk? What commends him so strongly to your attention?”
“Besides that he is, behind his rough exterior, a natural sailor and leader of men?” Jas asked, brow furrowed. “I must admit, I do like that he would rather continue sleeping in a hammock below decks than take over the Second Mate’s cabin.”
“Why?” Kaille asked, suspicious, “Do you think you deserve better lodgings?”
“You know by now not to take offense at my hope that every journey with you will be my last,” Jas corrected. “No, I think it would be best to give our new friend Fenric his own quarters.”
“So you would still invite that mystery on my ship?” Kaille asked, somewhat exasperated.
“Such a delicious mystery!” Jas exclaimed.
“I’m not interested in intrigue, Hawkesbury,” the Captain sighed. “I don’t want that man to sail with us—“
“Kaille, you can’t be serious!” Jas stared at him, awed. “I know you’re a bit adamant, but think what this all could mean. Think what role we could play—”
“—but I will take him.” Kaille finished.
“—in the impending rebellion—” Jas took a moment to comprehend the Captain’s words. “Wait, what?”
“I don’t agree with you and I have no interest in being part of any mystery, as you call it,” Kaille explained, “but I lost my father and brother in the Battle of the Usurper, and it’s my duty to honor their memory.”
“I hadn’t even thought…” Jas recoiled. “You never told me what happed to them…”
“I hadn’t cared to share,” Kaille said with finality. “We shall take the Scribe to sea and we shall discover what he has to say. I have a terrible feeling about it, but I’ll do it.”
“You won’t regret this, Eli.” Jas nodded his reserved approval.
“On the contrary,” said the Captain. “I’m fairly certain I shall.”
* * * * *
Rose had only to stand inside the small apartment for a few moments to know it would fit her family’s needs nicely. Turning to the landlord, she took out a small bag of coins and asked, “Is this enough?”
The landlord, an enterprising but honest fellow, could not hide his shock at being given two times the cost of the premises. Unable to recover in time to bargain, he replied, “It’s enough for several years, but I rent one year at time.”
“I’ll pay this price gladly if you’ll see to it that my mother and sisters are unmolested and able to find work,” Rose said firmly.
“That’s not the traditional role of a Landlord, son,” he said, eying Rose in her boy’s clothes. “Won’t you be there to take care of them?”
“I’ve been hired aboard a merchant ship. I sail later this morning,” Rose replied briskly. “I came here because I was told you were a good man. They’d become your wards. If you keep them well for this year, I’ll pay you twice this fee next year.”
The Landlord calculated quickly. He nodded his awed acceptance.
“So you’ll move them in today?” he asked.
“I must ask you to collect them for me,” Rose imposed. “I must prepare to leave and there are ridiculous rules that make the streets unsafe for them to travel without me.”
“Be careful who you say that to,” the Landlord nodded again, slowly. He began to count his gold as Rose explained where he would find her family.
When he had left, Rose took the odd assortment of clothes from her knapsack and laid them all out. She flattened her mother’s dresses upon the floor, and her cousin’s breeches and doublet on the small bed. After much contemplation, she changed into the dress. While she finished hooking the last of the dress’s clasps, the Landlord returned with her family.
After he deposited them in the main room and left, Rose entered. She carried the small stack of gold coins that remained.
“Uncle Oric had a change of heart,” Rose explained to her mother, without any indication of being heard. Rose didn’t mind. The act was more for Sara, anyway. “He sent me to find this place, that’s why I left earlier. It’s nice, right?”
“Uncle did this?” Sara asked, doubtfully.
“I didn’t say thank you!” Tobi exclaimed. “We must go back.”
“No—” Rose said, a little too quickly. She grabbed her youngest sister fondly by the shoulders. “No, he said he didn’t want anyone to talk to him about it. Doesn’t know how to accept thanks, good old Uncle.”
“Right…” said Sara, not believing a word.
Rose set the significantly lighter pouch of gold coins on the wooden table and began pointing out the perks of their small set of rooms. She pointed to the wide hearth, and strong wooden rafters, and the two small bedrooms.
“And the landlord is very kind, as you’ve seen…” she finished lamely.
Sara escorted their mother and sister into one of the rooms. Rose retreated into the bedroom where her clothes were strewn. The dress she wore itched terribly. She clutched at the bindings, tugging it harshly. She couldn’t imagine ever getting used to it. Feeling claustrophobic in her own skin, she changed back into her cousin’s doublet and breeches.
The eleven bell rang. Hurriedly, she stuffed the other stolen trousers back in her bag.
“I wish you could have seen the look on Uncle’s face when we left! You’d think he had seen a ghost.” Sara entered, laughing. “Oh wait, he had!”
Her eyes fell on Rose’s hurried packing. “I think you’re supposed to be taking those out of the bag,” she kidded, uncomfortable. “We are, after all, home.”
Rose rolled her eyes and continued.
“What are you doing?” Sara asked, breathlessly.
“Nothing,” Rose shoved a shirt roughly into the bag. “Go help Mama.”
“But where are you going?” Sara tried to smile.
“To the docks,” Rose allowed herself to admit.
“Will you be back for dinner?” Sara asked, becoming nervous.
“Just go away,” Rose snapped. “Please?”
Sara didn’t leave, but she shut her mouth.
Many feelings passed thro
ugh Sara’s heart as she realized her sister intended to abandon them. It felt betrayal and fear and longing—and many other things that are only expressed in the heart language. Then, without warning, it broke into many tiny pieces.
“My gods,” she breathed, fighting back tears, “you’re not even going to try, are you?”
“Try what?” Rose asked, acutely annoyed.
“To find me bearable!” Sara shouted in explanation.
Rose stopped her hurried motions and turned around. Their eyes met. Rose looked away immediately, uncomfortable.
“Don’t be stupid,” Rose said, her own heart filling with guilt. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Yes, Rose, I know,” Sara scolded. “I know by now that nothing you’ve ever done has had anything to do with me.”
“How can you say that?” Rose breathed, angry. “After all I did to bring this family back together—”
“Now you’ll do your best to tear it apart?” Sara cut in, grabbing Rose’s bag and throwing it against a wall. “I know you don’t care how your actions affect me, but what about Mama? What about Tobi?”
“Maybe I’m leaving to help them!” Rose yelled, rushing to retrieve her things. “Do you honestly think Uncle gave us the gold for this place? I got it! I have a job to do. I can’t help anyone here. I’m no use to anyone as a girl.”
“Now who’s being stupid, Rose? You’re a daughter and a sister,” Sara countered. “We need you.”
“You are quite the piece of work, Sara,” Rose guffawed. “If you need me so badly, why did you try to turn me in to those men?”
“What men?” Sara asked, dumbfounded.
“Who do you think?” Rose shouted. “The men who came to collect us!”
“How do you know about that?” Sara asked.
“Don’t play dumb,” Rose reprimanded. “You know perfectly well that I was on the roof. For Illiam’s sake, I was the one who set loose the slate tiles that allowed you to run away.”
“You did that?” Sara demanded.
“Of course I did,” Rose answered. “That’s why you told them where to find—”
“No, I swear, Rose,” pleaded Sara, “I didn’t know. I was going to tell them you had gone back to the village. I just didn’t want them to hit Mama anymore. I knew you wouldn’t have gone there.”
“It doesn’t even matter whether or not I believe you. It doesn’t change anything.” Rose turned to her bag again. “I’m more use to everyone this way.”
Sara continued to stand in the doorway, gaze fixed on her sister. “I can’t believe I let you fool me,” she laughed derisively through watery eyes. “You made me think that I mattered to you. But of course I don’t. You’re still the same selfish Rose, playing everyone until you get what you want and then abandoning them.”
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