Zypheria's Call (A Tanyth Fairport Adventure)

by Nathan Lowell

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” Scooter said and beckoned with a sweep of his hand and a grin. “Come on, then,” he said and looked up at the rigging. “You know what a gasket is?”

  Rebecca followed the youth across the deck and was halfway up the ratlines before Tanyth could blink. In a few heartbeats she was lost to view in the darkness above.

  Tanyth crossed the deck and stood with her back against the deckhouse. She felt as if her head were on a swivel as she tried to watch everything and stay out of the way.

  “Ahoy, Zypheria’s Call!” The shout came from the pier.

  The captain ran to the rail to squint out into the dark. “Who goes and what’d ya want?” he called.

  “It’s Peter. Peter Robertson! I’ve a package, Captain!”

  “Peter?” The captain stretched his neck forward trying to see. “This isn’t some more insurance foolishness, is it?”

  “No, Captain. I’ve a shipment for my man, Wiley, in North Haven. I told him you’d bring it when the port opened.”

  “Why the devil did you wait until now to do this? I’ve neither the time nor the inclination to break out the cargo boom for one crate!”

  “It’s not that big, Captain. We can horse it aboard. Please, Saul. It needs to go with you this trip.”

  The captain spit into the sea beside the dock. “All right! Get it aboard, man!” He turned to the sailors on the deck. “Franklin, Cleeves. Give ’im a hand.”

  Two sailors scampered up the slanted gangway and returned in a few moments with an oblong crate between them, stepping carefully on the way back down.

  “Thanks, Saul.”

  The captain spat again. “If you make me miss the tide, Robertson, you’ll be owing me more than thanks!” He turned to the bosun. “Get the stern line in and secure that gangway.”

  “Cuppa tea, mum?” She turned to find Cook standing beside her in the semi-dark. He held out a heavy mug with a dark liquid in it.

  She accepted it and nodded her thanks. She took a sip and nearly choked. “What’s in this tea?”

  Cook’s smile glowed in the dimness. “Jot of rum, mum. It’ll help you sleep.”

  Tanyth barked a laugh. “You think I’m goin’ to need it?”

  “You ever been out to sea before, mum?”

  “Not in the open sea, no.”

  “Yeah. You’ll thank me in about two bells, mum.”

  Considering the level of noise on deck and the hour, she thought perhaps he might have a point. “Thank you, Cook.”

  “You’re most welcome, mum. And welcome aboard.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two:

  The Rolling Sea

  Whether it was the excitement of getting underway, the heavy meal, or the rum, Tanyth couldn’t be sure, but she slept soundly. She awoke to a distant bell ringing and sun shining in the tiny window. She lay there in her nest of covers and felt the ship’s slow roll up and down. As she lay there she became aware of a low rushing sound, a kind of vibration that had no tone but should have.

  “Good morning, mum,” Rebecca said, her voice low and sleep filled.

  “G’mornin’, my dear.” She rubbed her eyes and peered across to where Rebecca sat cross-legged on her bunk, fully dressed and sipping a mug of tea. “You been out on deck already?”

  Rebecca held up the mug. “Been workin’ and just got off duty about three bells ago. Been trying to sleep but every time I nod off, they ring again.” She grimaced.

  “How’re your hands?” Tanyth asked.

  “Mr. Harris was right,” the young woman said holding up her empty hand to peer at the palm. She turned it and Tanyth saw the redness of abrasion.

  Tanyth winced in sympathy.

  Rebecca shrugged. “Looks worse than it feels but I put on some of Harris’s liniment and it feels a lot better.”

  Tanyth made a mental note to look at the liniment and see what was in it.

  “When d’ya have to go back to work?”

  “’S afternoon they said. Somebody’ll come get me.”

  Tanyth tried to sit up and discovered that the movement of the ship made simple things like sitting up or getting down off the high bunk a bit treacherous. She focused on the slow lift and fall of the ship and, after a few moments, was able to stand without falling over. She held onto the bunk’s rail until she was sure of her balance.

  “It’s a bit tricky at first, mum, but it gets better if you don’t think about it too much.” Rebecca rested her head against the wall behind her, closing her eyes and a small smile drifted onto her lips. “Kinda comfy in an odd way.”

  Tanyth grinned and did her best to struggle into a pair of trousers and one of her heavier pullovers. The view out the small window showed a sunny day with a few high clouds, but her breath soon fogged the glass. It took her a couple of tries to pull on her boots, leaning back against the bunk and pulling on one boot at a time between the swells.

  She congratulated herself for not falling over and noticed that her staff kept rocking back and forth, back and forth where it stood in the corner. “That’ll fall if you leave it there, old fool,” she muttered.

  “Wazzat, mum?” Rebecca asked, opening her eyes and looking toward Tanyth.

  Tanyth shook her head. “Nothin’, my dear. Just my staff. Wonder it hasn’t fallen down and hurt somebody already.”

  Frowning she looked around the tiny cabin, trying to figure out where to put it where it wouldn’t be in the way and wouldn’t roll around. Eventually she realized that it fit nicely beside her mattress along the inner rim of her bunk and felt better for having stowed it. She looked around at the other objects and set about making sure things were either in the cupboards, hanging on pegs, or were secured somehow so they wouldn’t rattle around. By the time she’d finished, Rebecca snored softly where she sat, her head lolling to one side and shifting gently in the rolls.

  The ship’s bell rang three times and Rebecca jerked awake, the empty mug gripped in her hand as if she thought she might spill it. She sighed in exasperation and looked at Tanyth with a small shrug.

  Tanyth heard a soft footfall outside the door and a gentle tap.

  She reached over and released the latch, letting the door swing open.

  Benjamin Groves stood there with a big grin on his face and a haggard look around his eyes. “Good morning, mum. Miss. Cook’s compliments and he’s got your breakfasts when you want ’em.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Groves. That’s kind of him.”

  “Cook likes having passengers, mum. Don’t spoil him too much.”

  “Spoil him?”

  “Yes, mum, by telling him how good his food is. We like to tease him a bit. Passengers tend to be nice to him.”

  She laughed. “I can’t promise anythin’, Mr. Groves, but I’ll do my best.” She peered at him again. “Have you slept?”

  “A bit. Getting underway like that means a lot has to happen in a hurry. I got a couple of naps in, but I need to go grab some sleep now and relieve Jameson at eight bells.” He gave her a smile and a shrug. “It’ll even out as we get the rhythm down, mum. If you need anything, you can ask Cook.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Groves. Don’t worry about us.”

  “Good day, mum. Miss.” Even in his apparent exhaustion he managed a warm smile in Rebecca’s direction. “For a green hand, you did yourself proud out there.”

  Rebecca smiled and colored, looking into her empty cup as if there might be something more in it. “Thank you, sir.”

  Mr. Groves winked at Tanyth. “She did better than most of the ordinary seamen we get. ’Specially for her first time up the mast underway.”

  Rebecca grinned. “Oh, mum, you can’t imagine what it’s like up there...” her exuberance met Groves’ flashing smile and she shrugged. “It was fun, sir. Thanks for lettin’ me work passage.”

  “You’re quite welcome, miss.” He nodded once to Tanyth and headed down the narrow passage toward his bunk.

  “Breakfast, my dear?” Tanyth asked.

  Rebecca looked in
to her empty mug and placed a hand on her stomach. “Not just now, mum. I’m really sleepy and if it’s all the same, I think I’ll just try to lie down here and see if I can sleep between the dings.”

  Tanyth nodded and relieved the younger woman of the empty cup. “You sleep. I’ll see about food.”

  Rebecca slumped over, dragged a blanket half over her shoulder and was asleep before Tanyth could move.

  With a grin, Tanyth stepped out into the passage and quietly pulled the door closed behind her. Getting used to walking on a moving floor took a bit of concentration, but she managed to get to the stairs leading up to the deck without falling. Having walls to lean on helped. When she got up to the deck, she stopped on the top step of the ladder and took it all in.

  A clear yellow sun had barely cleared the eastern horizon, gleaming brilliantly across low rolling waves. Here and there it struck sparks that glimmered and glinted against the dark water. She looked up at the curved expanse of brilliant white canvas above her head gleaming in the dawn’s light and the heavy wooden boom along the bottom edge of it. With the horizon all around she realized that the deck was not just rising and falling but that it was tilted over to the side.

  “That explains why I’ve been off kilter,” she muttered.

  She took the last step up onto the deck and stood there with one hand gripping the hatch coaming to steady herself against the movement of the ship.

  A sailor wearing a striped shirt and blue pants walked by. “You all right, mum?”

  “I’m fine, but this ship seems to be movin’ about.”

  He grinned. “Yes, mum. She’ll do that for the next couple weeks or so I ’spect.”

  Tanyth grinned back. “So I been led to believe.” She looked at him standing there swaying in time with the deck and looking perfectly comfortable without holding on to anything. “Is there a trick to it?”

  “To walkin’ on deck, mum?” He shook his head. “Just something you get used to. Easier if you just stand up and let go of the bulkhead, mum. Don’t think about it and you’ll be fine.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s how we do it, mum.” He held out his hand. “I’ll catch ya if you head for the rail, mum, if’n ya wanna try.”

  Tanyth gathered her courage and straightened up, holding her arms out for balance but letting go of the wall behind her.

  “Bend your knees a little, mum. Let the ship just kind move under ya.”

  Tanyth followed his advice and found that she had no problem standing still. The gentle swells were easy to compensate for and the more she relaxed the easier it became.

  “There you have it, mum. Easy as pie.”

  “How do you walk?”

  “One foot after the other, mum. Same as always. Just plow right along like you’re goin’ somewhere and next thing ya know? You’re there.”

  “What’s your name, young man?”

  “They call me Scooter, mum.”

  “Would you mind walkin’ with me to the deckhouse, Scooter? Just in case?”

  “O’ course, mum, but you won’t have any problem. Just keep your head up, mum, and don’t think much about walkin’.”

  She gave him a long stare, but he just shrugged his shoulders. She lifted her head and didn’t look at her feet, but the first couple of steps were a bit shakey.

  “What cha gonna do when you get to North Haven, mum?”

  Tanyth looked over to where the young sailor strolled along beside her. “I need to find a woman there. I hope she’ll be my teacher.” She wasn’t sure how much she should share about Mother Pinecrest given what she’d heard from Mabel Esterhouse.

  “And here you are, mum.”

  Tanyth looked up in surprise to discover she’d crossed the deck while she wasn’t watching.

  The sailor opened the deckhouse door and held it for her. “Told ya not to think about it, mum.” He gave her a cheeky grin and she looked back across the deck again.

  “Thank you, Scooter. That was quite a lesson.”

  “’T weren’t nuthin’, mum. A couple bells of practice and you’ll be climbin’ the riggin’ with the rest of the deck monkeys.”

  She glanced up to see a sailor hanging from the rigging high above her and the image of her being that far up was so ridiculous that she laughed aloud.

  “When you’re done with that jackanapes, mum, you might come in and close the door,” Cook called. “You’re lettin’ the heat out.”

  Scooter knuckled his forehead and she stepped into the deckhouse, only bumping her shoulder once on the doorframe as she walked through. He closed the door behind her.

  “Good mornin’, Cook.”

  “Good mornin’, mum.” Cook handed her a mug of tea. “This’ll help, mum. The less you think about it, the easier it gets.”

  She took the mug and fought the urge to reach for something to steady herself.

  “Just sway with the roll, mum. You’ll get it.”

  Tanyth wasn’t so sure. She looked into the mug, sniffing the contents. “There’s no rum in this?”

  Cook laughed. “No, mum. You slept well, though, din’t ya?”

  “Yes, I did. Thank you.” She blew across the top of the mug and tried a tentative sip. The hot tea felt good going down.

  “Would you care for some breakfast, mum? I’ve oatmeal or some eggs, if you’d prefer. No beans this morning, I’m afraid.”

  “Oatmeal would be most welcome.”

  He crossed to the stove and spooned a healthy portion into a heavy crockery bowl and drizzled a bit of honey across the top. Tanyth was so busy admiring the clever arrangement of rails around the edge of the stove that she gave no thought to what she was going to do with tea in one hand a bowl of hot oatmeal in the other.

  “You can take that back to your room, if you like, mum.”

  “What do the sailors do?”

  Cook grinned. “Most of them just sit on the deck.” He pointed to a corner of the deckhouse opposite the water butt. “If you prop yourself in the corner there, mum, there’s a shelf you can put your tea on. It might be a bit easier than getting’ down and then back up again, if you’re not used to it and ya don’t mind eatin’ standin’ up.”

  Tanyth eased herself into the corner and found a narrow ledge at waist height. It was just wide enough for a mug of tea and a small lip kept the cup from sliding off.

  “Just like ’at, mum.” Cook nodded his approval. “Get that inside ya, and if ya like, there’s plenty more where it came from.” He turned to his stove again, pulling open a fire door to chuck in a couple sticks of split wood before taking his long spoon to several pots.

  Tanyth spooned up the rich oatmeal. The dusky sweetness of the honey brought out a nut-like flavor in the oats. Before she knew it, she was down to the bottom of the bowl and considering whether or not to take Cook up on his offer of a second bowl.

  “Where do I put this, Cook?”

  He turned from his ministrations and pointed his spoon at a wide tray just inside the door. “Dirties go there. I’ll get some help here in a bit and we’ll get them cleaned up.”

  Tanyth leaned over, careful not to let the rocking of the ship throw her around. The bowl wasn’t the first dish in the tray but there was plenty of room for more. “The crew hasn’t eaten yet?”

  “Most of ’em are sleepin’ yet, mum. Those that ain’t on duty. Along about seven bells there’ll be a reg’lar stampede through here, though, mark my words.”

  She leaned back into her corner, feeling quite comfortable with the sturdy walls to hold her up and the heavy mug cradled in her hands.

  Cook shot her a glance over his shoulder. “You’re a bit different from the other ladies we’ve taken aboard, mum.”

  Tanyth laughed. “Ya get many ladies aboard, do you?”

  Cook finished whatever he was doing on the stove and turned to her, leaning easily on a bit of the bulkhead nearest his hip. “Well, not that many, no, mum. We’re a freighter. Not like some of them fancy boats what takes mostly passage.
” He paused, glancing at the ceiling and obviously considering. “Maybe five or six a season. They don’t come out much.”

  “How do they manage meals?”

  “I have to take it to ’em. I’d be happy to, mum, but Mr. Groves said you’d probably be just as happy to come get breakfast.”

  “Does everybody eat on deck?”

  Cook shook his head. “You’re standin’ in the mate’s corner. When they’re on duty, they just stand there and eat whatever’s handy. Crew sits where they like. Cap’n Groves, now, you’ll see with dinner, I wager. He likes his sit-down dinner in the cabin, such as it is.”

  “Sit down dinner?”

  “Oh, aye, mum. He’s got a regular table and chairs and all in the cabin. I usually do up a couple or three plates and low man on the ladder does the servin’. Just like a big ship.” Cook smiled. “He always invites the passengers to sup with him. You’ll see, mum.”

  “And the other meals?”

  “We’re not a big ship, mum. We grab what we can, when we can. Nice weather like this? It’s easy pickin’s. If it gets narsty? Hardtack and hot tea, if you’re lucky. Hardtack and cold water, if you’re not.”

  She finished her tea and placed the mug in the tray beside the bowl.

  “Thank you, Cook. That’s much better.”

  “Quite welcome, mum. Anytime you wanna cup of tea, you just come get it. I’ve always got a pot ready.”

  “Good ta know, Cook. Thanks.”

  “My pleasure, mum. Truly is.”

  She edged out onto the deck again, already feeling a bit steadier and braved a walk all the way around the deckhouse before the biting wind cut deep enough that she turned her steps back toward her cozy room to escape it.

  “Shoulda worn the heavy coat,” she muttered, glad that Mr. Groves had pointed out the shortcomings in her wardrobe. Under the circumstances, she thought she knew why lady passengers didn’t spend much time on deck. “Prob’ly don’t bring enough clothes,” she muttered.

  Safely back in the compartment, she smiled at Rebecca, still curled into her bunk and took a moment to straighten the young woman’s covers, drawing them up and tucking her in.