Isle of Wysteria: Make Like a Tree and Leaf

by Aaron Yeager

  “Okay, I may have taught her that one,” Ryin admitted with a grin.

  “That’s really cute, Aldie,” Athel praised, patting him on the head and walking off with the laundry bag, leaving Alder and Ryin to look at each other in confusion.

  “Aldie?” Ryin asked aloud.

  * * *

  After hanging up the laundry to dry, Athel went into the women’s shower room to clean herself off. As she turned on the water and reached for the shampoo, she could hear male voices out in the hall.

  “I’m sorry but I must refuse to participate in this,” Alder insisted.

  “Come on,” Ryin retorted, “you’re the one who wanted to fix her head.”

  “But not in this way, I...hey, put me down! Let go of me this instant!”

  The door was flung open and Alder was tossed into the room. As the door closed again, he landed at Athel’s feet and stood up with hands raised, as if expecting a particularly vicious beating.

  “Hi, Aldie,” Athel greeted, lathering up the shampoo in her hair.

  “Um, hello, Miss Athel,” Alder stuttered out, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor.

  “Are you here to take a shower as well?” she asked amiably.

  “Uh, no, I’m...I’m still fully dressed,” he explained as his uniform became drenched from the cascading water.

  “Do you want me to scrub your back for you?”

  “Uh, no thank you,” he responded, blushing heavily and heading for the door. “I really must be going now.”

  * * *

  Alder left the women’s shower room and returned to his quarters, but Ryin and the others paid him no heed. They were busy rushing up the ladders topside, in response to a most unusual call to be heard in the middle of the Maiden Skies.

  “Ship ahoy!” Mina called out again, grabbing the bell chain with her tail and striking it three times. Captain Evere joined her at the binnacle and extended his spyglass.

  “She’s nearly on top of us,” Evere criticized. “Why didn’t you raise the call sooner?”

  “It’s only a sloop,” Mina explained, “with a single man doing all the work himself. Hardly a threat.”

  “Aye, but it’s wicked strange to bump into any vessel so far from land or trade route. Have you considered that he might be a scout for a raiding force?”

  “No.”

  “No? Surely I taught you better than that, woman.”

  “Actually, I taught you, darling, and you haven’t looked at the flag yet, have you?”

  Evere snorted and looked again. “He’s flying the Wysterian colors?” he said in bewilderment.

  “Exactly,” Mina said smartly.

  Meeting with an unknown quantity in open skies was always a tense operation for Navy crews. Pirates preferred to slip in close before they struck, and would often conceal their gun decks and fly flags of friendly kingdoms in order to lull suspicion. Larger vessels would sometimes instruct their gunnery crews to climb the yardarms and rigging so that other vessels could see that their guns were unmanned.

  Whether friend or foe, other ships would always attempt to appear as far from threatening as possible, so it struck the crew of the Dreadnaught as a little odd when the single crewman of the tiny sloop began waving his saber and firing his musket wildly into the air.

  “Do you think he’s trying to challenge us?” Evere asked.

  “To what, though?” Mina asked. “Perhaps he’s just gone mad from the heat.”

  “Cannon primed and loaded,” Ryin reported, eager to fire.

  “I think we should let him board,” Mina opined, looking through her spyglass.

  “And why is that,” Evere asked, “when he’s doing everything he can do to make himself a target?”

  “Because he’s cute,” Mina purred, closing her spyglass.

  “Cute?” the Captain hissed. “That’s the worst reason to spare someone I ever heard.”

  “Why not?” Mina asked, leaping down and preparing a mooring line. “That’s why I asked them to spare you when we first met.”

  “Fifteen years,” Evere jeered as he grabbed a line, “Fifteen years and you’re still holding that over my head like the executioner’s ax. I wonder if I’ll still be hearing about it in fifty years.”

  At Margaret’s command, the winds propelling the Dreadnaught slowed enough for the small sloop to turn and run alongside. The lone occupant caught the lines tossed to him and the two ships were slowly pulled together until their hulls touched and the strange man was able to climb up onto the deck.

  “Thank you so much for allowing me to board,” he said, his relief evident as he leapt over the gunwale. “I was afraid you’d shoot at me.”

  “Then why were you discharging iron and brandishing sabers like a madman?” Evere asked.

  “Because I wanted you to see that those were the only weapons I had,” the man answered honestly.

  There was a moment of silence, then Mina and Ryin began laughing lightheartedly and the tension seemed to abate.

  “You’re not much of a sailor, are you?” the Captain assessed.

  “I’m afraid I’m not,” the man answered with a smile and a bow. “My name is Privet Tamarack, Palace Guard to Queen Hazel Forsythia of Wysteria, who has sent me here to find her daughter.”

  Near the forecastle, Athel climbed up on the deck wearing a full black and white Boeth maid uniform, her hair pulled back tightly into a bun. She was about to apply polish to the ship’s cannon when she noticed Privet, and let out a girly squeal of delight and ran across the deck, throwing her arms around him and nestling into his broad chest.

  “I’m sorry, I think I may have made a mistake,” Privet said, “I was looking for the Dreadnaught.”

  “Aye, this is the Dreadnaught,” Evere confirmed.

  “And is there an Athel Forsythia on this crew?”

  “She's nuzzling into you.”

  “Then why is she wearing a maid costume?”

  “Your guess is as good as ours, mate.”

  “We think there may be a spell on her,” Mina volunteered. “Why were you sent to find her?”

  “Because,” Privet grunted, trying to pry Athel’s arms off of him. “...because at noon tomorrow, every ship in the twelve seas is going to be after her. The Federal Navy, privateers, pirates, merchants, everybody.”

  “But this is a Federal Navy ship she’s on,” Evere countered. “We’re all one big happy fleet. Why would they come after one of their own?”

  “Because at noon tomorrow, Wysteria is going to formally withdraw from the League of Nations and declare its independence. The Wysterian government is granting amnesty to any ships that wish to join their own Naval forces. Pirate ships from all twelve seas are converging on Wysterian waters. War is coming, and the heir to the Wysterian throne is on a small patrol boat in the middle of enemy territory.”

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Inertia

  Being pursued was no new experience for the crew of the Dreadnaught. It was the scale of their current pursuit that they found new. Normally other vessels could be categorized into ‘enemy’ and ‘neutral,’ depending on exactly which entity was doing the hunting, but such was the enormity of the price at stake and the distinct profile of their modified patrol boat, that every ship they encountered had to be treated as hostile and avoided at all costs, a fact which Mina pestered her husband about on a nearly constant basis.

  Captain Evere was too busy being upset at other things to give much heed to his wife’s grumbles. After all their planning and scheming on Stretis, the Dreadnaught was a wanted ship again less than 24 hours after being pardoned. It all seemed like a whole lot of wasted effort to him, and he complained aloud that they would have been better off just going ‘full pirate,’ and even Alder’s offer to give Evere his share of the recent loot only mildly abated his anger at the whole situation.

  Under Margaret’s guiding winds, they had been skimming the edges of the Kingdom of Schillotaum, a string of volcanic islands populated by a race of
pacifist monks that lived out their simple lives in mud-brick temples, honing and refining their magic of astral projection to a keen edge through denial and meditation. It was thought at first that there would be no danger of the Schillotaum people recognizing the ship and calling the authorities, but there must have been at least one monk who had tired of his vow of poverty and wished to cash in on one of the enormous rewards being offered for Athel’s head, or one of the lesser rewards offered for her other body parts, because Navy and merchant ships had descended on the chain of islands in such numbers that now the Dreadnaught was limited to sailing only at night, forced to hide in one of the countless volcanic caves of the chain during the day.

  They had no real course or plan, except to turn away from any ship before it came close enough to spot them, and keep heading as well as they could toward Thesda.

  The announcement of Wysteria’s withdrawal from the League had been as tumultuous as expected. Before the shock of the announcement had even worn off, opportunistic leaders from many of the smaller kingdoms, such as the Illerian Commonwealth and the Republic of Cherotia, had begun re-voicing their usual complaints about reallocation of trade routes and funding for Naval outposts. Only this time they implied, both subtly and overtly, that they would join Wysteria in its withdrawal if their demands were not met. Already reports of protests and demonstrations were choking up the communication channels, and the result was clear. The League would have to force Wysteria to rejoin or deal with a rapidly escalating movement for separatism. War was coming and no one seemed to know or care why. There was no official explanation for Wysteria’s choice to withdraw and Privet had been given no information to share on that subject. He had only his personal observations that something Queen Hazel had experienced within the Royal Tree had led to the decision, though he couldn’t begin to guess what that was.

  The Federal Navy had been quick to respond, and Captain Evere’s command podium in his quarters had been steadily clicking away for hours now with a steady stream of orders to report immediately and turn over his Wysterian crewmembers to the Naval Police. Had he been just about any other Captain in the Navy, he would have done just that, but Captain Evere possessed in abundance a severe distrust of authority that led him to walk up to the command pulpit with a sledgehammer.

  Mina laid quietly in her soft feather bed as she listened to the hammering noises coming in from the adjacent room. The incessant clicking of the podium had been going on for so long now that she had begun to dismiss it. Now that it had begun to slow and then finally cease, she found the silence strange.

  Her husband slid the door open and walked in, his sledge hammer now decorated with bits of springs and cogs as he let it drop to the floor.

  “I’m proud of you, husband,” she said, batting her bright lavender eyes. “That was a lot of reward money to pass up on.”

  “Don’t praise me, I don’t deserve it,” Evere grumbled as he sat down next to her. “I just grew tired of that blasted ticking.”

  “Oh, you still think you can be dark and mysterious around me?” Mina teased. “You are as transparent as a Shika crystal.”

  “Oh am I?” Evere asked. “It just so happens that I was looking out for my helpless wife. This way we can always claim afterward that we never received their orders to report to the NP’s.”

  “If there is an afterward,” Mina sighed.

  “Aye, this is a tough one,” Evere mentioned, “and I don’t think it will be righted soon or easily.”

  Evere reached up and opened a porthole so as to look out at the gathering clouds. “I’ve always judged a storm by the length of its clouds,” he said. “Some are thin and quick, beginning to pass as soon as they arrive, while others are deeper and can stick with you for days.”

  “And this one?” Mina asked, running her tail up and down Evere’s back.

  “This one I can’t even see the end of.”

  Evere laid back and Mina hugged him close to her, planting light kisses along his cheek.

  “Did you ask Alder to take third watch tonight for me?” Mina asked.

  “I couldn’t,” Evere grumbled. “The lazy little guy had already scurried off.”

  “You shouldn’t be so hard on him,” Mina entreated.

  “Oh, you know I can’t let up on him, woman,” Evere maintained. “If he’s ever going to make something of himself, he’s got a long way to go.”

  “Well, maybe not as far as you’d think,” Mina giggled, squeezing him tightly. “He reminds me so much of you when we first met.”

  “Aye, and that’s why I can’t afford to let up on him.”

  Evere leaned over and they kissed gently, reminding themselves why they had stayed together all these years. The world was a big, difficult place and taking it on by yourself only made it worse. With all the things one had to go through, the best thing anyone could have was someone at their side.

  Mina’s tall ears twitched. “Wait, where did you say he scurried off to?” Mina asked.

  “I didn’t,” Evere said.

  Mina got up and walked out into the hall. Something was bothering her and she knew it wouldn’t be right until she found out what it was. Turning a corner, she bumped into Ryin, who was lowering a barrel of fresh water using a pulley.

  “Mister Colenat, do you know where Alder is?”

  “Um, yeah, he went to take something to Privet.”

  “Splinters,” Mina cursed, taking off in a run across the stowage deck.

  “What’s the problem?” Ryin asked, instinctively following her.

  “What’s the problem?” Mina asked, as if it should have been obvious. “Don’t you get it? They’re rivals for Athel. They’re probably in there tearing each other apart as we speak!”

  Mina reached Privet’s quarters and tugged on the handle, but found it to be locked. Her tail twitched fretfully and she motioned for Ryin to open it. Rolling his eyes, Ryin pulled out a long strand of wire from his jacket pocket and bit it with his teeth. As he released, the wire folded itself into the shape of a key and he inserted it into the keyhole and opened the door.

  “Okay, hands down and backs to the wall!” Mina yelled out, expecting to be met with a scene of violence and carnage. Instead, she saw Alder and Privet sitting quietly in their wooden chairs, each enjoying a piece of pie.

  “Is there a problem here?” Privet asked, taking a bite.

  “Um, no, I guess not,” Mina stuttered, her tail wrapping up between her legs in shame.

  “We just thought there might be some trouble here,” Ryin explained as he backed away, embarrassed.

  “Why would there be?”

  “Well, ah, since you two are rivals, we kind of expected you to be fighting,” Mina explained.

  Privet and Alder looked at each other in surprise, as if the thought had never occurred to them before.

  “Fight him?” Alder asked, “He’s twice my size.”

  “Besides,” Privet added, “If I fought Mister Bursage, I’d miss out on all this great brambleberry pie.”

  “Would you like some?” Alder offered.

  Mina and Ryin declined and walked out sheepishly, leaving Alder and Privet to laugh quietly to themselves as the door closed.

  “Wow,” Privet said, shaking his head. “It’s been so long, I forgot how strange foreigners can be sometimes.”

  “Yes, quite,” Alder agreed, “It seems like they always want to duel each other over every little thing. Miss Athel had explained some of it to me from what she had learned in her books, but I must admit I was completely unprepared for it when I was challenged on Stretis.”

  “Yes, well, if she had just paid more attention to my lessons, you could have avoided that mess all together.”

  “What do you mean?” Alder asked, serving up another slice.

  “You’re allowed to nominate a substitute any time you want. You never have to fight a duel yourself unless you want to.”

  For some time Alder could only stand there and look at Privet intently, as
if he was trying to digest something that just refused to be digested.

  “You mean I could have just nominated Hanner, or someone equally bulky?” he asked carefully, trying to restrain his voice.

  “I’m afraid so,” Privet said, setting down his plate.

  There was a knock at the door and Athel walked in, still wearing her maid costume and holding a washbasin.

  “I have your dinner ready,” she said, “and I have drawn you a bath, so you may do whichever you wish first.”

  “Wow,” Privet said, eyes wide. “I just had the strangest sense of déjà vu ever.”

  “Or,” Athel pleaded, kneeling before him, “if you like, I can wash your feet for you.”

  “All right!” Privet exclaimed with a smile. “I like the sound of that. I think I will take you up on your most generous offer.”

  “Mister Tamarack,” Alder pleaded, “I really don’t think it would be proper to take advantage of her while she is in this condition.”

  “Are you crazy?” Privet asked, pulling off his boots and placing his feet on a stool. “I might never get a chance like this again as long as I live. Scrub away, princess, and I’ve got a wicked bunion growing right there so break out that pumice stone and get to it.”

  “Yes,” Alder said, standing up and grabbing Athel by the wrist and leading her to the door. “And the rest of your life might be a very short period of time indeed if she is freed from the spell and remembers how you acted.”

  “What are you doing?” Athel asked, struggling weakly.

  “I’m sorry, but Mr. Tamarack and I will be along for dinner in a few minutes.”

  “But, he said I needed to scrub his feet,” she pleaded as Alder closed the door on her.

  Alder sighed and leaned up against the door, controlling his breathing for a minute before realizing that Privet was studying him intensely.

  “Where did she get that costume, anyway?” Privet asked.

  “My guess is that Pops made it for her,” Alder answered.

  Privet nodded and watched Alder quietly for a moment.