Chapter 29
"Whittles be of the ivory of the great walrus from the North Sea, in the straits." He spoke in a gravelly voice. He regarded his handy work, jutted his stubby, gray bearded chin forward and held it aloft for all to see. The snow-white tusk was carved into a figure of a bird of some sort perched upon a branch with a fish in its mouth that was just opening its wings for flight. His work was extravagant, clean, and highly detailed. He handed it to Finnegaff, who took the delicate figurine in his hands and inspected it closely. Mia and Romessee looked over his shoulder at the marvel. The little man was truly an artist.
"Beautiful, Captain Sheremeth," he nodded. Finnegaff had called the sailor by name; he evidently knew him.
The salty Captain Sheremeth's twinkling deep brown eyes contrasted against his ruddy complexion. He looked at the wizard, then set aside his corncob pipe. "Dear Finnegaff! How long has it been?"
Finnegaff smiled broadly as the captain stood and exchanged forearm grips with him. Both smiled and looked at one another a moment. "A long time, dear brother! A long time! The last was in Centauria, in Port Goldring!"
"Aye, mate. It was, wasn't it?" Sheremeth laughed lightly.
"How is it that you're here on the other side of the continent?" Finnegaff inquired of his old friend.
"Aye, it were the spellbinding eyes of the fair Heretielle that moved me to here, near her homeland of the Plains." He appeared in deep thought.
"I do know Heretielle and the effects she has on you." Finnegaff took on a serious look, having sensed the problem. "She's..." he stopped, knowing the answer.
"Aye, dear brother. Stricken and taken by the wetlung, some six months back." The captain held intense gaze.
"I'm sorry. Truly she was a delight."
"That she was, friend. That she was." He raised his voice. "Her legacy is me ship," he held his hand out toward the boat in introduction, "christened 'Lady Heretielle'. She's the best. Aye, the best." Sure as were his words, there across the stern of the ship was written 'Lady Heretielle'.
"She looks sound and worthy," Finnegaff nodded in agreement, "As was her namesake."
"What brings you east, old conjurer?" Captain Sheremeth changed the subject, yet certainly not to avert the sentimental path down which it led, for as everyone knows, sailors are indeed prone to reminisce, as they are a hopelessly sentimental lot. And Captain Sheremeth was no exception.
"We Carry the Book, and wish to enlist the Lady Heretielle to the Plains."
The captain stood with knife in hand. Upon the first viewing he had of Mia's Stand, he pointed the knife directly at Mia. "It be her!" He squinted one eye as he aimed down the length of the knife. "That's your Carrier, right there!" Mia was a bit startled by the rapidity of Captain Sheremeth’s insight. Half crouched over, Sheremeth turned to Finnegaff. "What in Saa be you doing with this school o' fry?" He motioned toward the party in general. He shook his head. "My dear wizard, I used to think you slow. Now I think it is that you don't learn too well." He laughed at Finnegaff.
Finnegaff answered with a big smile. "It was not I, briny sailor!"
"Yes, yes. Saa. I know. I know." His laugh passed. "We sail at dawn. The sea be a little rough right now." Without turning to face it, he motioned toward the windy, dark, white capped bay behind him. "So! Where be you and your fine crew staying? Crow's Nest?" An easy guess, as it was the only inn designed for humans within thirty miles. Finnegaff nodded. "I'll close her up, then." Captain Sheremeth reached inside the opened door of his shanty to remove a rubber hat. He placed it on his head, then closed the door. He took up his pipe, then for the first time stood tall. Well, straight anyway, as he was not more than Mia's own height. "It be well known in these salty parts that it be tradition to show honor to any wizard that calls!" Mia was nearly shocked. Nearly. Great! she thought. Not him, too!
The captain, stooped over, fists clenched before him, bowlegged, took off through the rapidly growing dark in the direction of the Crow's Nest. He moved surprisingly fast for his peculiar rocking gait. He had taken no more than ten steps when he stopped.
"C'mon!" he motioned. "That storm'll be here in no time! You wanna be wet fer the rest o' the night?" With that, he spun about and headed down the lane. The group hurried to catch up. Except Finnegaff, who stood for a moment, watching Mia's Stand respond to the authoritative Captain Sheremeth. He took up Lebethtro Larra, straightened his back and stepped lively.
It was only moments after their arrival at the Crow's Nest that the torrential downpour began. The wind howled outside as the rain fell in sheets. The barroom was dry, brightly lit, full with those wanting to make a social event of the storm. Strongwind had opted for the stables, thus in the good company of horses; he was not one to show honor to tradition in the manner of wizards. Belemeriath had found a group of young ladies. Naturally, Mia thought. He was pouring on the charm to the giggling girls. The rest made themselves comfortable at a large table as the captain ordered ale for all. Crab legs, clams and other seafood accompanied potatoes with another vegetable something, as Mia called it. Large trays and bowls of such were set about the table for all to share.
"...So there I be, across this bay and out to sea." The captain had professed to be a teller of tall tales. The group took advantage of his witty craft and urged sea stories from the more than willing Captain Sheremeth. Even the locals paid attention; they, too, found delight in his amusing tales, even many times over. "The storm o’ 3142 made this one look like a little squall, I tell you." He puffed on the long-stemmed corncob pipe. As he spoke, to each member of his audience in turn did he point the stem of the pipe. He leaned forward, hand on knee, seated on a low three-legged stool of raw pine. He squinted, winked and nodded as he told his story; he gestured with his hands and arms; he held out the vowel sounds of certain words when embellishing a point. His showman's mannerism exaggerated all the more as he got deeper and deeper into his tale.
"Lightning, big lightning, struck me ship, and the mainsail mast did split. She were useless. The mainsail be gone, and it took the rest o' me sails with it on the way down. And as I said before, the nets hung up the rudder. So there we be, out at sea. We be dead in the water. We be at the mercy of the mighty Bridesmaid Norielle! So I tie this rope around me waist, the other end to the bow and jumps overboard. Head first, too! Swim I did beneath the boat, and with me trusty knife, freed the rudder of her confines!"
Romessee was on her fourth ale. She was kneeling on the floor next to the charming old sailor with a forearm perched on his shoulder. Her head was rested on her arm, her face not six inches from his. She wore a silly grin. "But why tie the rope to the bow? The rudder is at the stern!"
"Aha!" He raised his mug into the air. He exaggerated each word with flamboyant motions. "As I say, there we were, dead in the water. With the rope about me waist, I swim past the ship, I did! And I did swim as I've never before, and in the storm, mind you!," he wound it up with a grand finish, "towed the boat off the high seas to the safety of this very bay!"
Romessee laughed at him. "You want me to believe that?" she giggled.
"Aye, fair one! I docked 'er right there," he motioned out the window toward the wharf. He looked at her sideways. "Well, there were a storm o' 3142, you know!" Mia, seated on the floor on the other side of Romessee, was greatly enjoying all of it. She thought, half of her second ale gone, that this is what you do if you live in a place where there's no such thing as television.
Belemeriath had buzzed in to catch the last of the story. "No! No! That's not what happened! I was there! The ship was..."
"Me little fairy friend!" The captain raised his voice in interruption. "Would love to have a bit of tarrowroot to put in me pipe. Don't think you'd be kind enough to oblige?" He puffed once on the pipe.
"Tarrowroot!" Belemeriath flew in short upward arcs. "I know where there's tarrowroot!" And with that, the little fairy flew full speed toward what he believed to be an open window, which, considering that a storm raged outside, was in fact clos
ed. He hit the glass with a loud clank! and fell to the sill. Immediately he took to flight again, flew straight up, hovered but for a split second and eyed a crack in a board above the window. There was no measurable time between when he twinkled into a pinpoint of light and shot through the small crack in the board, out into the storm in search of tarrowroot, and likely other fairies to share it with.
They told stories until late in the night. Mia had but two ales all evening, knowing she did not necessarily wish to indulge the way others sometimes did. Carameth had some, too. Mia thought he was normally very quiet. With a few ales in the elf, he absolutely refused to talk, choosing to observe with the most ridiculous of expressions painted on his face. Romessee certainly had her fill, but Zimm and Karthich did not drink ale. They took in its stead a clear iced liquid that smelled like tar to Mia but most definitely impaired a Mantid. It was late when they turned in. Finnegaff shared a room with Carameth, the rest in the larger of the apartments.
The old innkeeper walked the hall shortly before the coming of the dawn and hammered the walls and doors with his fist. "Rise, ye landlubbers!" he called in a loud, deep voice seeming unfit to his small frame. Pound and yell he did, as this practice was standard for the Crow's Nest Inn, where the sailors it boarded required early rising that they might sail at dawn. Mia startled, if a little hazy, to awake. It took a moment to come to her exactly what the noise was all about. Soon she remembered that they had a ship to set sail. She was excited about sailing. She had never been to sea, and was looking forward to the experience. She rose and quickly changed into fresher garb. Romessee was already up, out in the hallway, having been assigned final watch. Mia took up Dielielle and her pack and ran in to the Mumbwe when she opened the door to their room.
"Great day, Miagaff!" She smiled at the ratty hairdo Mia adorned. Mia squinted as she cradled Dielielle in the arm that held the pack. She removed her hairbrush from the side pocket. The hairbrush stopped dead in mid stroke as she tried to yank it through her tangled hair. Romessee took the brush and calmly began to brush out her friend's locks. Mia fell against the door jam.
"They'll be serving breakfast soon. I'm sure they'll have motherberries!" They looked at each other. For the first time that morning Mia looked closely at the Mumbwe. She looked worse than Mia felt!
Mia didn't have the intensity of after effect that she had with her other experience with the drink, though definitely was not her normal self. "You look sick," she told Romessee.
"I feel sick!" she replied. "But you look worse than I do!"
"No, I don't. I can't. No way." They laughed, but shortly, as it caused them pain.
The rest were in the barroom, where breakfast was being put out. They all appeared spent, with the exception of Finnegaff and the captain, who had come to join them. How Finnegaff managed to drink like he did only to function so well the next day even with motherberries was beyond Mia.
The innkeeper was a marvelous cook, having prepared a breakfast of great variety for his inn's guests. Included were motherberries, which Mia and Romessee, (and Carameth, who appeared as well off as they), first indulged. Breakfast was mostly quiet but for Captain Sheremeth's report on prevailing winds and the upcoming weather, all basically forecast from the degree of pain in his shoulder.
The warm rain was a fine drizzle, which lightened up as they trudged their way through the mud and puddles to the wharf that moored the Lady Heretielle. The ship rocked gently with the dying waves, bumping against the leather-bound pylons that made up the pier with a quiet thunk. Strongwind was already there, horses packed, ready to board. If any one of them wanted to get out of Mantadia, it was Strongwind. Though the Mantid folk of the small village were not as harsh toward him as those in Rass were, they still had the smell of prejudice.
A crew of four had begun hoisting a sail when Strongwind came to their aid. By himself, the Centaur lifted the sail to full mast in half the time the crew of four could have. Captain Sheremeth remarked to his crew that they shake a leg, as he could replace them all with a single manhorse. They ignored him. Finnegaff, Mia and Carameth were instructed to remove their shoes, as decks were best walked barefoot. Their gear, along with the horses, was stowed below. The breeze was light as they pulled off the dock. Across the Bay of Whales they tacked, into the wind at a smooth, gentle speed. They all sat on the deck at the helm with Captain Sheremeth as they sailed into the sunrise.
Several whales had sighted them and pulled along side. The lead whale raised his head above the waves. "Ahoy, Captain Sheremeth! Great Day!" he lulled in his deep whale voice. Mia sat on the deck, eyes wide, her mouth hanging open.
The captain returned the greeting. "Great day, king o' the sea!"
"Lord Finnegaff! It has been long!" Mia could see the whale's huge eye move in its socket to look to the wizard.
"King Breachmaster of the North Seas who Travels Far, Kindness to all Life, Warder to the Fishes!" Finnegaff used the mighty whale's shortened name. "Yes, it has! How is your kingdom?"
"We avoid the Straits of Many Dreams, for the waters there are tainted."
"Yes! That they are!" Finnegaff agreed.
"Scheramm is good to us, despite. The krill go north in abundance; my herd has plenty."
"You do a fine job, King Breachmaster."
"I do thank you, Lord Finnegaff. What brings you to sail," he was not asking, "is the Carrying of the Book of Life. Saa has deemed it so, and sent us to you."
"You are correct, my great friend!" Finnegaff stood, hands clasped before him. "This," he motioned to Mia, "is Miagaff, the Eighth carrier of the Book of Life."
"Miagaff," the huge animal spoke her name! "An honor, Carrier!" With one slow, mighty flip of his tail, he raised slightly from the sea in what was a bow, if one were a whale. "Such short names man has! I have never quite understood this."
"It's easy to remember." She could think of nothing else to say, taken aback, having never even witnessed a whale up close, let alone carried on a conversation with one. His size alone was hard to absorb, the graceful majesty of his fluid dynamics through the waters beyond description.
"Captain. My herd would tow the Lady Heretielle."
In his many years at sea, the old sailor had seldom received such an offer from the cetaceans. As it was for the Centaurs, the whales did not consider themselves beasts of burden, even less so did their good friend Captain Sheremeth. He did, however, know the high degree of honor the whales had for the Carrying of the Book of Life, so wisely he held this honor to heart. "Aye, dear friend, by Saa you shall!"
"All hands on deck!" the captain yelled at his crew, who had taken to lounging on the aft deck, playing a dice game of sorts. They sprang to life with the sound of his command.
"Prepare the ropes! The whales be towin' us!" The crew, knowing that this was nearly unheard of (outside of Sheremeth's tall tales, of course) stood unmoving, astounded at the order. "Step up, swabs!"
"Aye, captain!" one of them said; yet they hesitated. "How do we..."
"Take this," Captain Sheremeth motioned to the wheel of the ship to Carameth, who happened to be standing next to him at the time.
"Me?" Carameth stuck his thumb in his chest. "I don't know how to..."
"Lad," the captain sighed and tilted his head in mock frustration. He firmly grabbed both of Carameth's wrists and placed the elf's hands on the ship's wheel. "Hold 'er steady. That's it!" He slapped Carameth on the back. "Now ye be a sailor, mate!" With that little instruction, he hobbled off with his crew to give instruction on how to harness a whale, leaving a wide-eyed, very stiff elf to steer his ship. The four girls, Mia, Romessee, Zimm and Karthich giggled at him. He paid them no heed, for his eyes were fearfully glued to the sea ahead.
The sails lowered. Strongwind eagerly helped. He enjoyed the sailor work, yet had never before been at sea. A thick rope was tied into knots known but to seafarers. A loop was fashioned to girdle the great whale.
Mia had an idea. She had heard of people from her home planet that ha
d opportunity to swim with whales. She wondered if the king of the sea would allow such.
"King Breacher!" She yelled at the whale. He turned his giant eye to her.
"Yes, honored Carrier?"
"Where I come from, sometimes, well, people sometimes swim with whales..."
"It is often we do so. We find the experience gratifying." The whale had as much as invited her! She looked at the other girls. Romessee nodded her head rapidly and bit one of her fingers. The Mantids shook their heads and slightly recoiled, for, as it is well known, Mantids do not swim.
"Let's go, Rom! Let's go swim with them!" She sprang to her feet and yanked Romessee to a standing position.
"Do you not think we should..." she motioned with her head toward Finnegaff, who was helping with the ropes.
"No!" she said. "He might say no! C'mon!" Romessee looked at the unsuspecting crew, then to Mia's anxious face. She shrugged her shoulders. "Why not?" With that, the two girls dove overboard, hand in hand, feet first into the deep blue of the Bay of Whales.