Zypheria's Call (A Tanyth Fairport Adventure)

by Nathan Lowell

  Her mouth twisted into a grimace. “You’re not makin’ me feel all that comfortable in this voyage, Mr. Groves.”

  “Well, that’s part of my plan, mum.”

  “You tryin’ to scare me into stayin’ here?”

  He shook his head. “No, mum, but I want you expecting conditions so dire that when they’re merely miserable, you’ll count it a blessing. Is it working?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll tell you when we get to North Haven, Mr. Groves.”

  “That’ll work out fine then, mum.” Benjamin gave Rebecca a wink that made her blush as he held the door.

  They found Captain and Mrs. Groves in a quiet side room set with a large table and several people already in attendance. The space itself was more alcove than room and offered a commanding view of the bar through a wide arch with curtains bunched to either side.

  When they stepped into the alcove, Captain Groves raised his glass in welcome. “Benjamin! Excellent, you’ve arrived.” He addressed the table at large. “Gentleman and lady,” he said, the last directed to a white-haired lady on his left, “most of you know my son, Benjamin, first mate on the Zypheria’s Call.”

  Most of the men raised a glass or nodded to Mr. Groves who gave a small bow in return.

  “And the lovely woman on his arm is the most adventurous Mother Tanyth Fairport who has taken passage with us to North Haven along with her traveling companion—” The captain stopped in mid sentence. “I’m sorry, my dear, but I’ve forgotten your name.”

  “It’s Rebecca, Father,” Benjamin said.

  “Of course, of course,” the captain said. “My apologies, Rebecca.”

  Rebecca smiled and murmured, “Not at all.”

  The men rose and gave small bows before resuming their seats. The Captain’s lady patted the empty chair beside her in invitation, and Mr. Groves seated Tanyth in it before helping Rebecca into an empty seat beside her. He then took his own place on the Captain’s right.

  Seating established, the captain continued. “Mother Fairport, this collection of rogues and scalawags are my partners, bankers, and with the exception of my lady wife, not to be trusted while I’m out of the sight of land, which is why she stays ashore to keep track of them all.”

  There was a general laugh and considerable good-natured jeering at this pronouncement but the company soon quieted and servers appeared with large bowls containing a stew of fish, potatoes, and milk.

  “So pleased to make your acquaintance, Mother Fairport.” The captain’s wife greeted her with a broad smile. “Since Saul’s manners don’t include introducing me by name...” She directed that jibe directly at her husband, who toasted her with his mug and an apologetic look on his face. “Call me Murial, if you like.”

  Tanyth offered a handshake and said, “Please, Tanyth. All this Mother Fairport business just makes me feel older than I am.”

  Murial chuckled and patted Tanyth’s forearm. “I can imagine only too well.”

  Servers placed bowls in front of each person and withdrew to stand ready in the background.

  Tanyth nodded her thanks and noted that everyone looked to the Captain.

  “Thank you all for coming,” he said as the table quieted. “Some of you know this is a tradition with us, to break bread together before we sail. The wind might shift any day now and we’ll be getting underway as soon as practicable after that. Thank you, gentlemen, for your continued support and belief in the vessel and her crew.” He held up his glass and was joined by all the men at the table. “Fair wind and following seas!”

  They all repeated the phrase and each took a deep swallow of whatever was in their mugs and glasses.

  The captain lifted his spoon and took a sip of the stew whereupon the company passed the baskets of bread and dug into their own meals.

  While the men discussed ships and cargoes, riggings and hulls, Murial turned to Tanyth. “You’re going north then?”

  “Yeah. The last leg on a long journey, I hope,” Tanyth said between spoons full of rich stew.

  “Oh? You’ve traveled far?”

  Tanyth nodded. “All over Korlay. This will be the farthest north but I’ve been the length and breadth, I think.” She nodded to the Captain. “The mainland anyway.”

  “My goodness, how long has that taken?”

  “This marks my twenty-first winter,” Tanyth kept her voice low to slide in under the table discussion of the relative merits of dried fish over salted pork which seemed to be occupying at least half the men in a lively debate. “And how do you fare? Wife of a sea captain?”

  Murial turned a fond eye toward her husband before replying. She leaned in to put her head near to Tanyth. “Frankly, if he didn’t go to sea, I’d probably brain him within a season.” Her eyes twinkled as if in jest, and Tanyth chuckled. “He can be such a fusspot, but he’s a good man.” She reached over and patted him affectionately on the arm and he returned the favor by catching her hand and kissing her fingers with barely a break in the discussion.

  “And this wind they’re all wound up about?” she asked.

  “Yes. There’s something about that westerly wind that brings an unfortunate change to otherwise sensible menfolk.” Murial glanced over at her husband with a smile. “He worked for years to earn enough to get a ship of his own. Bless him, he wanted to christen her Murial.”

  “After you?” Tanyth asked. “Why’s that?”

  Murial snorted a soft laugh. “A lot of captains name the ship for their wives. I think it makes ’em feel less guilty. Mother knows they spend all their time with one or t’other. Per’aps it cuts down on the confusion over names when they only have to remember the one.”

  Tanth laughed.

  “But Saul? He’s always answered Zypheria’s call so when it came time to name the ship, I made him name her that.” She took a bite of her chowder and offered a small shrug. “It’s the lot of a sailor’s wife and one I knew full well when I married him.”

  “How’s that?”

  “My father was a captain. I saw it in my mother.”

  They ate in silence for a time, letting the men’s conversation wash around them.

  “Your son seems a good man,” Tanyth observed.

  “Thank you, he wasn’t always such a good boy.” She tsked and took a spoon full of soup. “When he was a lad, he vexed me something terrible. Playing pirate in my vegetable patch. Chasing the girls in the school yard.” She leaned over to speak to Rebecca. “Some of them let him catch them, too, and if you don’t think there wasn’t hand-wringing and lamentation aplenty over that!”

  Tanyth couldn’t help but like the blustery woman.

  “Still, he turned out quite fine. Now, if he’d just find a nice woman of his own and settle down. I’m getting old and want to see my grandbabies before I cross over.”

  Tanyth looked to the young man in question and shook her head. “Some woman will set her cap for him, you wait and see. He’ll be a catch but it’ll take a strong woman to land him, I wager.”

  Rebecca coughed, but waved off Tanyth’s concerned look, holding a napkin to her lips as she recovered. “Swallowed wrong,” she said. “Sorry. I’m fine.”

  “No doubt, my dear. No doubt,” Murial said, a shrewd look in her eye as she measured the distance between Rebecca and her son across the table.

  Benjamin seemed to realize they were talking about him and smiled, shaking his head as if chiding them. “Not fair, you three with your heads together,” he said.

  “Oh, hush, boy. We’re just planning your future between us,” Murial said, much to the delight of the table at large.

  “Father, I knew it was a mistake to get Mother Fairport and that woman in the same room. We’re doomed, sir.”

  Captain Groves laughed and patted his wife’s hand. “That woman is your mother, boy, and I’ve been doomed for more winters than you’ve been alive.” He turned to his wife. “And glad to be, my dear.” He reached in to kiss her on the cheek amid table thumping and catcalls.


  “How charming!” A new voice cut through the babble and all eyes turned to see a tall man standing in the arch.

  The mood turned cold. Captain Groves said, “This is a private party, Malloy. I don’t recall you were invited.”

  “Ah, I beg pardon, Captain. The view of such matrimonial harmony fills my romantic soul and I couldn’t help but comment.”

  “Spare us your bilgewater. You’ve business here? Spit it out. If not, shove off.”

  The man just held up his hand in a placating gesture. “No need to be gruff, Saul. I’m just here to let you know, I’ll be happy to accept your congratulations when you get back from North Haven.”

  “My congratulations? For what?”

  “Why for being the first one up and the first one back, of course.”

  “Good luck with that, Malloy. And unlike some, I will congratulate you in the unlikely event you manage to beat me north and south again.” Groves stood and shook a fist at the man. “But so help me, by the beard of the All-Father, if you ever lay a hand on another of my crew, I’ll personally—”

  “Saul.” Murial’s voice cut into the growing tirade. “He’s not worth this.”

  Captain Groves looked down at his wife. He took a deep breath and let it out. “You’re right, my dear.” He turned to address the table. “My apologies to everyone.” He looked up at the man still standing in the arch. “And good night to you, Captain Malloy. Fair winds and following seas.”

  “Ah, the brave captain. Hiding behind his lady wife’s skirts as always.”

  “Good night, Captain Malloy.” Saul Grove’s face held an impassive stare that Tanyth was happy not to be receiving.

  A burly man wearing an apron stepped up beside Malloy. “Is there a problem, Captain Groves?”

  “Captain Malloy, here was just leaving. Buy him a drink for me before he goes, would you, Carson?”

  “Be my pleasure, Captain.” The burly man turned to Malloy. “Shall we, Captain?”

  The two men moved off and Captain Groves resumed his seat. “My apologies, again,” he said, scanning the assembled party with his eyes.

  The servers cleared off the stew and brought a joint of roast mutton. By the time plates were doled out and glasses refilled the jocularity of the party returned, if not quite to the same level.

  Tanyth looked to Murial who sighed and shook her head. “Two years ago, Saul and Malloy reached North Haven almost at the same time. They were loaded and ready to go, but three of the Call’s crew turned up missing and Saul was delayed.” She shrugged. “Everybody blames Malloy for being the cause, but there’s no proof.”

  A discussion regarding the benefit of sloop-rigged over square-rigged schooners erupted around the table with much noise and laughter.

  “And did the missin’ crew show up?” Tanyth asked.

  Murial nodded. “Very hungover and locked in a root cellar.”

  “Seems kinda clumsy to get locked in a root cellar.”

  “Yes, which is why Saul, among others, thinks Malloy is behind it.”

  Tanyth sipped her tea and picked at the mutton while the discussion of sail rigs wound down around the table. During the lull that followed, a gentleman on the other side of Rebecca leaned forward and spoke around the women. “Saul, did you register with the syndicate?”

  Captain Groves turned and Tanyth sat back a bit in her seat. “Now, Peter, we’ve been over this before. You know my feelings.”

  Tanyth looked to Peter, a youngish man of perhaps thirty-five winters. He seemed well dressed, as far as Tanyth could tell. “I know you have, Saul, but you really should reconsider. What if something happened to Zypheria’s Call?”

  “Well, then we’d just have to deal with it.” The conversation around the table cut off as the two men talked. “I went and talked to them just last week. What they’re charging for premiums makes doing business with them unprofitable. I’d be better off selling the ship and taking up farming.”

  “It’s just business, Saul. You know that. They calculate the risks and underwrite the voyages based on past performance and the law of averages.”

  “So they say, Peter, but I’m not so sure anymore.”

  “I wish you’d reconsider. Particularly after that unfortunate incident with Avram’s Elizabeth, I’d think you’d be more concerned.”

  Captain Groves shrugged his shoulders and dug into his trencher of mutton. “My mind’s made up, Peter. We’re sailing as we are. That’s all there is to it.”

  Mr. Groves turned to his dinner companion, an older gentleman with white muttonchop whiskers. “When do you think the Zypheria will call, Mr. Chelton?”

  Chelton looked up from his meal and shrugged. “I’d bet on tomorrow.”

  “Do you have some ideas, insider knowledge, sir?”

  The elderly Chelton grinned at the younger Groves. “Well, lad, it hasn’t arrived yet and each day is a little warmer. Eventually, if I keep sayin’ it, one day I’ll be correct and everybody will forget I was wrong twenty days in a row, they’ll be so anxious to get underway.”

  The party all laughed at the logic and yet Tanyth saw a glimmer of slyness in the old man’s eye. She toasted him with her teacup and he gave her a small wink and a nod across the table.

  The conversation turned to more general topics then and consumed the men in a discussion of taxes and the crown. Tanyth took the opportunity to ask Murial, “What’s this syndicate that’s causin’ such a stir?”

  Murial tsked and leaned close. “A group of money people insure voyages against loss. In return for a share of every cargo that goes out, they agree to pay off the business for the loss of a ship in the event it never arrives.”

  “Is this the insurance I’ve heard tell about?”

  Murial nodded. “It is, indeed.”

  “How does that help?”

  “All these men have a stake in the voyage. They put up money that helps pay the costs and they stand to make a lot of money in return when Saul gets back. If the ship is lost, they lose all they’ve invested. The syndicate will guarantee some minimum payout if the voyage is a failure.”

  Tanyth looked around the table and noticed that the man called Peter was just picking at his food and shooting dark looks at Captain Groves.

  “Who pays you if you lose your husband and son?”

  Tanyth saw the pain in the other woman’s face and reached out to pat her forearm.

  “That’s what I thought,” she said.

  Some change in atmosphere washed through the tavern. It started in the other room but even Tanyth could tell something had happened. Everyone at the table went silent, looking out through the arch to try to see what was going on.

  The burly man who had shown Malloy away appeared as if by magic in the arch. “The wind,” he said. “It’s shifted.”

  The change was startling. Captain Groves pulled his pocket watch from his vest, flipping the case open with his thumb. “Ben, we’ve two hours until the tide turns. We need to be outside the breakwater by then. We’re casting off at eight bells. Pass the word. Anybody not on board by then gets left.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” Mr. Groves stood and with a muttered apology headed out of the tavern.

  Saul turned to the headwaiter. “Peters, give these ne’er-do-wells a bit of dessert, a tot of rum, and then kick them out. Put it on my bill.”

  “Of course, Captain.”

  He leaned over and kissed his wife, and Tanyth sat close enough to see her kiss him back.

  “All-Mother watch over you, husband.”

  “I’ll see you in six weeks.”

  The captain seemed to notice Tanyth still sitting at the table. “I’m needed at the ship, Mother Fairport. You and Rebecca have time to finish your meal and take dessert, if you’ve a mind.”

  She stood and picked up her coat. “I’m ready now, Captain. If you’ve got time to walk me to the ship.”

  Rebecca followed suit.

  “We’re off then.”

  With a flurry of
good-byes, Tanyth found herself striding down the pier between Rebecca and the captain as men ran along Front Street and funneled into the piers, racing around them in some cases to beat the captain to the vessel. Shouts echoed around the harbor and up into the streets above.

  His eyes gleamed in the light of the moon and Tanyth thought he looked exuberant. “Good thing you moved aboard this afternoon, mum.”

  “I see that, Captain.”

  A few high clouds raced across the sky, hiding and then exposing the first quarter moon where it rode in the southwestern sky. The wind that had driven straight in from the end of the pier before now roiled sideways across the dock. Tanyth felt the warmth against her face and a bit of dampness in it as well. She had little time to consider the changes. In moments they boarded the ship and the captain started barking orders.

  “Bosun!”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Single up all lines. Clear away the running gear. Get the running lights lit and tell Cook to put on the tea.”

  “Tea’s already on, Captain!” Tanyth recognized Cook’s voice coming from the deckhouse.

  “Good lad!”

  “Jameson!”

  The bosun answered, “He’s not aboard yet, Capt’n. Said he’d be back by seven bells.”

  “How many others are missing?”

  “Scooter, Rand, Nichols, and Franklin, sir.”

  “Franklin’s here!” came a voice from the gangway as a gangly youth in a striped jersey pelted aboard. “Scooter’s right behind me and Nichols’s with Jameson. They’ll be along sharply.”

  Benjamin appeared out of the night. “That’s the lot, Captain. Everybody’s either here or on the way.”

  “Bosun! Get those lines singled up. We’ll need a spring line to push the bow out against the tide. Send three aloft to the tops and get those gaskets off the main and for’ard.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” The man started bawling orders and cuffing heads.

  The captain saw Rebecca standing beside Tanyth. “Scooter!” he yelled.

  “Aye, Captain?” The lanky crewman appeared as if by magic from the gloom.

  The Captain waved a hand at Rebecca. “She’s workin’ passage. Show her what do to.”