by C. Litka
01
I stood on the Wind Drifter's upper deck along with most of the crew and passengers. Blade Island filled half the sky. We'd gathered to watch the antics of the youngsters scrambling along the various masts in order to take in the sails. It's a Temtre tradition for the youths of the ship to take in the ship's sails on the approach to Blade Island. Though they had been taught and practiced how to do this during the voyage, it was treated as a joyful lark by both the youngsters and audience - save, perhaps, those whose youngsters were out, clinging to the masts.
Py - ever a boy at heart - had joined them. The children insisted on that, claiming that he was required to do so since it was his first visit to Blade Island - not that he needed any such inducement. So he was out there now, clinging for dear life on the tip of a spindly mast, pretending to be too afraid to move, despite all the directions shouted to him from all his young friends.
He had become a favorite with the Wind Drifter's pack of youthful passengers. Each round, Py and I would spend an hour going through our martial arts routines, as we had in the marches, after which we gave martial arts lessons to the youth - Py, long after I begged off. He would then spend the rest of the watch working or larking alongside of them. This included their lessons in sail handling - which had him swinging about on the many masts and lines that the ship sported - with an assumed air of clumsiness. He was forever falling off, and - almost - being left astern to the howls of laughter of his many young friends. It was all an act, of course - Py's martial arts skills made him a virtual acrobat. And in the quiet hours, he could be found surrounded by a flock of youngsters telling stories - stories of his youth growing up in the monastery, his grown up adventures as a magistrate and an advocate, plus all the traditional Laezan stories. When I could be coaxed to sit beside him, I'd tell my tales adventures among the strange and very distant islands I grew up in.
'I fear I'll find myself with a dozen Laezian Teachers in my clan before too long,' said EnVey, standing beside me.
'You'll be all the better for it,' I said.
'And I thought you were my friend,' EnVey sighed, shaking his head. Then, nodding to the knife-shaped island, floating in the endless sky, 'Getting nervous?'
'No more than I have been since we sailed.'
'About seeing her, or not seeing her? Or Py and his message?'
'Yes.'
He laughed, 'And Py?'
'He's no fool, however foolish he can act. He can look after himself come what may, and as you know, he's nearly impossible not to like. He's the perfect messenger. I'm sure he'll charm DeKan with his good humor and his sincerity, since he shares the small islanders' reluctance to change regardless of the message he brings, and that will show.'
'That may be,' said, EnVey, adding, 'But I doubt he'll charm DinDay. I'll do what I can to help, but I can only do so much.'
'Don't worry about us. You forget, I was an uninvited guest at the last Assembly, and would've remained undiscovered if Naylea hadn't decided not to move aside for you and your gang.'
'A painful memory. Did she ever say why?'
'No. Pride, perhaps. Still, she was a professional, and shouldn't have called attention to herself like that. But what I'm saying is that it's a big island. We could take to the hills or jungle should things go poorly.'
'It may come to that,' he said, and broke off as the youngsters screamed in mock horror. Py, attempting to climb back from this precarious perch, had lost his handhold on the mast, and was "falling" back, only just saving himself from being left behind by grabbing one of the many control ropes further aft - with his foot. Yes, Py could look after himself just fine.