Zypheria's Call (A Tanyth Fairport Adventure)

by Nathan Lowell

  Mabel frowned. “I know a few healers here in town. Menfolk mostly but I s’pect there’s midwives and some wisewomen, too.”

  Tanyth nodded. “Most cities attract healers. Not a pretty callin’ but one that’s needed. I may take it up myself when I’m done travelin’.”

  Mabel’s face took on that sly, teasing look again. “Maybe go settle down with Frank?”

  Tanyth smiled. “Maybe. Old woman could do a lot worse than settlin’ in with a comfortable old man.”

  “So what’s stoppin’ ya, mum?”

  Tanyth shook her head. “Not time, yet.”

  Mabel cocked her head and Tanyth could see her thinking. “Nothin’ up north but hunters and trappers and lumberjacks, mum.”

  Tanyth smiled. “Well, must be somethin’ there or they’d not be huntin’ and trappin’ and such.”

  Mabel laughed. “Well, there’s the hermit, but—” Mabel’s voice cut off as she realized what she’d said. “All-Mother, you’re not going to hunt down the hermit, mum.”

  Tanyth smiled but didn’t say anything.

  “Mum, she’s not real friendly. Drivers come back tellin’ stories about this crazy old woman who lives in the wood up there. All alone. Been there for a hunnert winters.”

  “Her name is Gertie Pinecrest, and I’m pretty sure she hasn’t been there that long,” Tanyth said, twisting her tea mug in her fingers. “I don’t think she’s dangerous.”

  Mabel’s mouth worked for a few heartbeats before she was able to get words in order. “But, mum, she’s crazy.”

  “Crazy how?” Tanyth asked. “I really don’t know much about her. Just the stories I’ve picked up on the road.”

  Mabel grimaced. “Well, I don’t know first hand, mind. I only know what the drivers say...”

  Tanyth nodded.

  “She runs through the forest screaming at the lumberjacks makin’ ’em stop cuttin’ down trees.”

  Tanyth arched an eyebrow. “She got a reason?”

  Mabel shrugged. “Dunno. Nobody’s ever said. But she lets animals out of traps. Even busts up the traps sometimes.” Mabel stared into Tanyth’s eyes. “How strong do you have to be to break a steel trap, I ask ya? This just ain’t right, mum.”

  Tanyth considered the woman’s words for a few moments. “Is that all?” she asked.

  Mabel sat bolt upright in her chair as if stung. “Is that all? Isn’t that enough? Mum, the woman is dangerous.”

  Tanyth smiled. “I don’t think she’s as bad as all that.”

  “How can you say that, mum?” Mabel appeared aghast.

  “Tales grow with the tellin’. You know that.”

  Mabel paused and sat back in her chair. “Aye, they do. You think that’s what’s happened with the hermit, mum?”

  Tanyth shrugged again. “I been on the road for over twenty winters. Holed up in cabins with old women every year, sometimes a couple different ones in the space of a few months. I been from Easton to the Western Marches. Went as far south as Ortala once. All on my own. Heard tales all along the road.”

  “Weren’t you scared, mum?” Mabel asked after she’d had a moment to digest.

  “Sure,” Tanyth said with a shrug. “Lots of times, but you musta been scared right here once in a while.”

  Mabel looked around the taproom. “Well, sure, mum. I s’pose everybody gets scared sometimes.”

  “There ya go,” Tanyth said. “You get scared and you just keep goin’. Nothin’ too excitin’ about it.”

  Mabel kept shaking her head. “So, you need to go track down the hermit? And you’re not scared?”

  Tanyth snorted. “Of course, I’m scared, but I gotta go track down the hermit.”

  “Why, mum? Ain’t you afraid she’ll hurt you?”

  “That’s the least o’ my worries. Why would she hurt me?”

  Mabel blinked. “Really? What are you scared of then, mum?”

  “Well, that she won’t take me in and teach me what she knows.” Tanyth sighed and leaned closer. “That old woman is the last of the keepers of the old knowledge. She may be crazy, or she may just be onto somethin’ the rest of us only got hints about. There’s powers in the world. Things I can hardly believe myself. Things that scare me a lot more than some jackass with his pants down and his brains in his hand. I think Mother Pinecrest knows what they are and how to use ’em. At least she might know what’s happenin’—” Tanyth bit her words off, unwilling to finish the sentence, unwilling to admit what was happening, even to the well-meaning younger woman.

  Mabel seemed to sense there was more behind the words. Tanyth kicked herself mentally for opening that door. Mabel didn’t ask the question that Tanyth expected. “Why are you tellin’ me this, mum?”

  Tanyth shrugged and gave her a sheepish grin. “Don’t really know. I’m a little bit at odds and ends today. I miss Frank already, I won’t lie about that, and I’m nervous about getting’ on a ship and hoping to get north as soon as I can.”

  Mabel nodded. “I can’t even imagine what you’re goin’ through, mum.”

  Tanyth patted the woman’s hand where it rested on the table between them. “You caught an old woman on a foolish day. I’ll be fine.”

  Mabel seemed to remember where she was and looked around the taproom as if not aware of how she got there or what she should be doing. “Well, you tell a good story, mum. No question about—”

  A clatter and short shriek from the kitchen had Mabel up and moving before the sound stopped echoing in the near empty taproom. Tanyth followed Mabel into the tidy kitchen and found one of the serving girls leaning against a work counter, a metal tray of biscuits up-ended and scattered across the floor. The oven door stood open, the heat wafting into the room.

  “Wendy? What is it, girl?”

  Tears coursed down the girl’s face and she nodded at the mess on the floor. “I dropped the biscuits, mum. I’m so sorry.”

  “There, there, dearie. It’s just biscuits. We can make more.”

  The girl’s tears continued and Tanyth realized that she cradled one hand to her chest.

  Mabel seemed to realize it at the same time. “Is there something wrong with your hand? Let me see.” She crossed to the girl and made to reach for the injured hand but the young woman held her arm out of reach.

  “I burned it, mum. Don’t touch it. It hurts so.” The girl’s crying tapered off and she opened the offending hand to inspection.

  A straight, red welt ran across the girl’s palm.

  Mabel gasped and looked up at the girl. “You’re supposed to use a pot holder, my girl. Those pans get hot.”

  She nodded. “I know, mum, but when I slid the tray out of the oven it started to slip and I grabbed the side to steady it. I wasn’t thinkin’, mum.” She sobbed again. “And now I’ve ruined everything.”

  Mabel shushed the girl and wrapped a motherly arm about her shoulders. “Now stop bein’ a goose and let’s get you taken care of, then we can worry about the biscuits.”

  The girl looked from Mabel to Tanyth, who still stood by the door. Mabel seemed to notice her for the first time. “Sorry about the excitement, mum,” she said.

  Tanyth smiled and shrugged it off. “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Know anything about burns?” Mabel asked. “I’d just slather on a little butter and wrap it in gauze, but you’re the expert here.”

  Tanyth snorted. “I’m no healer. Just an old lady who knows a bit about herbs and such.” She crossed to the girl who offered the hand for inspection. The skin had already begun to blister. “Got a bucket of water? Colder the better.”

  The girl looked to the sink and clean up area. “Just pumped this morning, mum.”

  Tanyth led the girl to it and, taking her arm, thrust the hand into the bucket. “Leave it there. I’ve got some salve that should help in my pack.” She nodded to Mabel and ran up to her room.

  Rebecca looked up as she burst through the door. “What is it, mum?”

  Tanyth shook her head and d
ove for her pack. “Nothin’ serious. One of the kitchen girls got a burn. I got something in here that might help.”

  On the top of her belongings she found a new, leather-bound book. She lifted it out and rubbed a hand over the tooled leather binding. It had no title and no markings on either spine or cover. She opened and found a note inside the cover.

  “When you get to where you’re going, you’ll need a book or two to write it all down in. This one will get you started. —F.C.”

  She also found one of the pens like Mabel used to sign in the guests and a new bottle of ink. She blinked away sudden tears and put the book on the bed to look at later. It took only a few moments for her to rummage about in the bottom of the pack and pull out one of the tins she kept there. The smell of it told her she had the right one. She rushed back to the kitchen to help Mabel tend to the injured girl.

  Chapter Sixteen:

  Fair Warning

  By mid-morning Tanyth had enough of waiting around the inn. The conversation with Mabel and the injured girl bumped her out of her funk. “Enough of this sittin’ around,” she muttered and grabbed her hat, staff, and a jacket against the chilly spring breezes that found their way off the water and between the buildings.

  “’Bout time,” Rebecca said. She snatched up her own jacket and hat, following Tanyth down the stairs and out the door. “You’re not goin’ wanderin’ alone, mum. Not while I’m here.”

  They set off for the market district, but soon found their path leading to the docks. Residents gave the strange old lady in trousers and a big hat a wide berth. The odd young man at her side glowered at everybody they passed. Tanyth snickered inwardly at some of the looks they got. A couple even made a warding sign against evil when they thought she wasn’t looking. She ignored them and kept walking.

  They were only halfway to the docks before her left knee started complaining. “Gettin’ soft, old woman,” she grumbled.

  “What’s that, mum?” Rebecca asked leaning over and casting a look of concern at Tanyth’s face.

  Tanyth shook her head. “Knee doesn’t like the moisture. Keep goin’. It’ll be fine after a bit.”

  A final turn brought her onto Front Street—the main road that bordered the harbor. A row of warehouses and chandleries lined the shoreward side while long, stone piers stretched their narrow fingers out into the harbor on the other.

  She stopped then and took in the view, drawing deep breaths of the cold, wet air into her lungs and blowing it out. The tang of salt and fish invigorated her and she wondered why Mabel served so little fish. Surely there were fisherman who could supply some decent catches.

  After resting for a few moments, both hands on the head of her staff, they set off again, heading for the Harbor Master’s office. As they strode along, the iron heel of her staff made rhythmic thumps on the wooden boardwalk, and she found herself admiring the view of crisp blue water, white gulls, and long piers. She probably should have been paying closer attention to her path and less to the sailing ships and seabirds.

  As it was, she ran headlong into a portly man with broad shoulders and a hint of gray at the temples. The impact set him back, and would have knocked her off her feet, if it hadn’t bumped her against the weathered boards of a warehouse.

  “You should watch where you’re going,” the man snapped.

  Tanyth recovered and both apology and jibe died on her lips as she saw the man’s face. Even curled in a snarl, she recognized something about him. “Mapleton...” she murmured.

  The man stopped dusting off his coat and pants, glanced at Rebecca, and peered at Tanyth, his eyes taking in the face under the wide hat and then her general shape fully registered. “What did you say?”

  “Sorry. I shoulda been more careful to not be where you were walkin’.”

  “No,” he shook off her apology. “You called me Mapleton.” He scowled at her, taking in the lines on her face and the gray in her hair. “Do I know you?”

  Tanyth shook her head. “No, sir, but I believe I know a relative of yours—William?”

  The man stiffened. “You know William Mapleton?”

  She nodded once. “Well, enough that I saw him in you just now.”

  “He’s my younger brother.” He squinted at her in the glare of the late morning sun. “And you are?”

  “Tanyth Fairport. I spent the winter at your brother’s village.”

  He seemed surprised. “Did you? And is he calling his little encampment a village now?”

  She smiled. “No. He calls it Ravenwood now. So do the rest of the villagers.”

  “How’s he doing, my little brother?”

  She shrugged. “Amber keeps him in line. He’s holding up under the strain.”

  “His kids? James and Matilda? They’re well?”

  “You mean Riley? He’s goin’ to be a handful when he gets older. He’s already got all the kids in the village in line.”

  He tilted his head to one side, almost birdlike, to look at her. “You really do know William.”

  She laughed and nodded. “Indeed I do.”

  A thought seemed to slap into the man’s head and he looked about, staring first at Rebecca and then around the quayside. “Is he here? Did he come to town with you?”

  Tanyth shook her head. “No, sir. He’s needed in Ravenwood. I rode in with the first load of clay for the season.”

  “Ah, Frank is here then? Frank Crane? You know him?”

  She smiled. “Oh, yes, I’m quite familiar with Frank Crane. He left this morning to take the lorry wagon and supplies back.”

  “And left you behind?” The man seemed astonished.

  “I’m heading north, Mr. Mapleton. Going back to Ravenwood wouldn’t do me much good.”

  “North?” He turned and looked at the ships as if seeing them for the first time. “What? Sailing to North Haven?”

  “Well, it’d be rather a dampish walk from here, now wouldn’t it?”

  He looked at her and, for the first time, smiled. “Yes, mum, I supposed it would.” He held out a hand. “Stephen Mapleton, at your service, mum.”

  She shook the offered hand and noted that for all his foppish dress, his hand was strong and callused from labor. He was not the office-bound dandy she’d first taken him for. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Mapleton. This is Rebecca. She’s—”

  “Mr. Mapleton,” Rebecca broke in and shook the man’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “And you,” he said eyeing the young woman’s apparel with curiosity. “And you, too, Mother Fairport. Please be more careful on the docks. It’s a dangerous place here. You could fall off the pier and drown.” His concern seemed genuine to Tanyth, if a bit condescending.

  “Thank you, Mr. Mapleton. I’ll watch my step.”

  He tipped his hat to her and started to walk on when he stopped and looked at her, then at the ships lined up at dock. “You’re booking the first ship north, I take it, mum?”

  “That’s my plan.”

  He nodded, as much to himself as to her, before speaking. “A word of advice, mum?”

  “Yes?”

  “Pick a ship that’s insured.”

  She frowned at the unexpected answer. “Insured?”

  He nodded once, very sharply. “Insured.” He looked around as if to see who might be watching or perhaps near enough to hear. “Just be sure.” With that, he hurried off, leaving Tanyth and Rebecca standing on the boardwalk staring after him.

  “How odd,” Tanyth said.

  Rebecca pursed her lips but kept her own counsel.

  With a small shrug, Tanyth straightened her hat and set out again along the boardwalk, Rebecca keeping pace alongside. The harbormaster’s office lay just ahead and she had a mind to stop in.

  When they got there, a barrel-chested man with a heavy beard stood behind the counter. His eyebrows shot up when he saw her enter. Tanyth saw him settle a welcoming smile on his face like a mask and fold his hands on the counter, as if he’d been up to something that he wanted to pretend
he wasn’t doing.

  “Good day, sir. How may I help you today?” he said while Rebecca was still closing the door.

  Tanyth smirked and took off her hat, letting her hair fall free and stepped up to the counter. “You could call me Tanyth as a start, young man. We can see what happens after that.”

  She saw his face sag in surprise, saw him glance at Rebecca who also removed her hat, and then watched him puff himself up again. She sighed.

  “I’m sorry, mum. Tanyth. Of course, mum. How can I help you today...Tanyth?”

  “Is North Haven open yet?”

  He blinked, clearly not expecting a direct question. “North Haven, mum?”

  “Yes, the port that’s to the north? Last I heard it was still closed because of ice, but should be clearing any day. Have you any news?”

  He grumped about for a moment, stroking his beard and stretching his braces. “Well, certainly, mum. That is to say, no, mum. There’s been no recent news. North Haven is still iced in. Prob’ly. When the Zypheria blows, we know when to send the ships north again, but no, mum. It hasn’t started yet.”

  “Thank you.” She started to put her hat back on but paused to ask, “Where is the other young man? Bright lad, tow-head, about eighteen or nineteen winters?”

  “Parkins, mum? Why he’s havin’ a bit of lunch. He’ll be back shortly.”

  “I see,” she said. “Can you tell me which of the ships will be heading north when the time comes?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t do that, mum. That there’s what we call confidential information.” He puffed up his chest and smiled in a way that made Tanyth want to poke him with the iron end of her staff and let some of the air out.

  “Indeed,” she said and settled her hat on her head. She turned and scanned the chalkboards mounted on the wall. “Then all these markings here? They have nothing to do with the ships or their ports?”

  “Um, well, mum. Those are just notes we use to try to keep track. ’Tis a busy port, you know. A lot of trade from here goes out to the eastern kingdoms and the island nations to the east. Lots of cargo in and out.”

  “I imagine that’s true,” Tanyth commented and noted the vessels on the board marked North Haven. Just as before four names were scrawled in chalk, three on pier two and one on pier three. “Tell me, young man, have you heard of a vessel named the Zypheria’s Call?” She turned to the man and saw his eyes flicker toward the board and then back at her.