Author's note:  My apologies to Dragon Hunter – whenever I tell you I'm going to post just add 2 days.   My thanks to Dragon Hunter, dshael, Talamh, risika, Seaspray, Savvy Rum-Drinker, and Rambles for your enthusiastic reviews.  Since no one but me reads these before they're posted it's nice to know you're enjoying it!

Oh, and Rambles allow me to assure you – we're still in the prologue.  The real story has yet to begin J!

And at the rate I'm writing we aren't going to get to the 'meat' of the story until August :-P.  I've got to start writing shorter chapters!

Seaspray figure on a 2 week turnaround given the chapter lengths.  I have to write, edit, and make sure that I've hit all of my outline points without contradicting a point in the chapters as yet unwritten. (Always interesting and occasionally cause for author hair loss.)

Historical note:

Blood of Avalon

Chapter 4:  A Prince, an Apprentice, and an Ass

"Granted" Jack replied delightedly.

The life and light came suddenly back and I blinked up into Elizabeth's chin as she looked at the newcomer.  Of course I should have realized, should have remembered.

"Noman" I whispered and coughed.

"Gently Cennan" he crossed from the rail to my side so quickly I didn't even see him move.  He started to reach down to touch my chest but I caught his wrist.

"Where's the profit in it for you?" I whispered.  The concern vanished out of those green eyes as they shuttered going more distant and cold than I had ever seen them.  It was a terribly rude question but I'd heard my fair share of fairy tales from my mother too and like pirates princes and fairies have their own agendas and I wanted to know what it was.  I wanted to know why.

 "Is it so fantastic that I might be capable of generosity?"  No anger, no emotion at all in that question "That not every act has to have strings attached?"

I glanced over "But my father tried to kill you."

"I am not your God to visit the sins of the fathers to the third and fourth generation."

"Exodus 20:5, 34:7, and Numbers 14:18" Jack muttered.

"And?" his gaze flickered to Jack.

Jack frowned "Deuteronomy 5:9?"

He gave a short nod and turned his attention back to me "All that matters in the end is what you can do and what you can't do.   You've already bled your body out if Jack hadn't tapped into your enaid you would have died an hour ago and you're already far into diffygiol.  You can't survive another minute without my assistance.  So Cennan can you leave your wife to raise the child she's carrying without you?"

"Elizabeth?" Governor Swann and I asked simultaneously as all eyes turned to Elizabeth whose hand flew to her stomach.

"I'd only begun to suspect" she breathed in shock.

He tilted his head as if listening then cast a glance up at the emerging stars "February 12th  - I'd say barring complications you'll be cradling your first born by the last week of September.  A lass, I think, but it's a little early even for me to be sure."

I reached out and put my hand over Elizabeth's.  I was going to be a father!!  I could feel the sappy grin spreading across my face as I stared into Elizabeth's eyes.

Mallory cleared his throat "While I do hate to interrupt such a lovely starry-eyed moment the longer we delay the weaker we both become."

I pried my eyes away from Elizabeth "Both?"

He arched one dark brow "I've been sustaining your life since my arrival.  As I said Cennan you're bled out and unless I heal you you'll eventually drain us both dry."

I flushed "I'm being an ass aren't I?"

His lips twitched but the smile didn't make it to his eyes "No, that's Mr. Bolger.  Do you want to live?"

"Yes" it didn't matter any more what he might ask I wouldn't leave my child fatherless, not if there was any other way.  And besides Noman had never done anything but bless me.

"Good – I'd hate to think that most of the Pearl's crew just spent the last five hours exhausting themselves at the sweeps for naught, not to mention the fact that I becalmed over a dozen ships redirecting Wind and reversed three currents."  He reached down again and pressed a firm hand to my chest.  It was odd to feel the rings on his fingers even though my eyes told me that his hands were bare.  I drew in a deep, painless breath and immediately began to cough.

"Not yet" he commanded and I felt it subside.

"You've a fair bit of fluid in your left lung that we will eventually need to clear but I don't want you coughing until I've straightened out this mess."  I didn't like the look his was giving my gut at all. 

"You can heal him?" Elizabeth demanded more than asked.

Mallory answered without taking his eyes off of my torso "Aye, lass in seventy-two hours he won't even have a scar to show your grandchildren.  The bad news is that you're probably never going to forget just how miserable you're going to be for the next few days, the good news is you're going to sleep through most of it."

"But his chest just closed up."

"Indeed" he almost sounded like Commodore Norrington when he was annoyed. "That was a simple wound.  The ball passed through cleanly and while it clipped the lung slightly it did relatively little damage.  This on the other hand is a much nastier affair."  He caught Jack's eye "Just for the record Captain Jack Sparrow next time could you ask for something simple?"

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Why haven't you started?" Elizabeth's voice had taken on the edge I'd come to dread.

"Mrs. Turner your husband was hit here by a nail.  When it struck the rib both it and the bone shattered sending fragments of metal and bone deep into peritoneal cavity.  The bone and the damage it caused are no problem at all as I've had more than a bit of practice at dealing with broken bones.  If the nail had remained intact it would also pose little difficulty in extraction but it didn't.  Once upon a time I'd have asked it nicely to follow the same path out that it used to get in.  If I try that now the most likely result would be a backlash young Mr. Turner would not survive.  I could of course simply heal the damage and leave the lead in his belly.  The problem with that is that lead is a poison, madam, in five years you'd start to notice changes in his behavior, in seven he would bear very little resemblance to the man you wed, in eight you'd be burying him.  What that all means, milady, is that in spite of the fact that the absolute last thing he needs is someone digging more holes in him that is exactly what I'm going to have to do.  I am at the moment strengthening him for that while planning where and how I'm going to get at that lead.   If that wasn't enough his enaid is utterly exhausted which means I'm supporting him with my own – a delicate operation at best since if a human's is a candle flame mine is the sun and I could fry him with a single instant's inattention.  While not the worst healing I've ever performed the next hour is going to be quite challenging and I would prefer not to be interrupted.  He'll need some clear, and I do mean utterly clear broth when I've finished.  Why don't you and the rest of the spectators toddle off to the galley?"

Elizabeth blinked at him.

"That means shoo."

We watched most of them shuffle off "Better you than me Cennan."  He shook his head "And here I finally thought I'd found a student that actually listened to me."

"I did, three hours a day just like I promised" I protested.

"Aye, but I also told you not to get in the way of flying projectiles" the voice was gently teasing but the eyes were still shuttered and distant.  "Pleasant dreams, Cennan."

"Wait, pleasant dreams?"

"No offence but the last time I went delving in someone else's guts while the patient was awake I ended up on the wrong end of a pistol" he flickered a glance at Jack who flushed all the way to his bandana again.  While I certainly would have preferred to not be shot I wouldn't have though Captain Jack Sparrow capable of a blush until today and it was rather amusing to see.

"I" Jack began but Mallory stopped him with a glance "Later Sparrow – don't you have something Captainish you should be doing?"

"Didn't think that included me" Jack sighed "Right.  See ye soon, whelp."

I swallowed suddenly terrified but not wanting to admit it "I want to stay awake."

"No, you don't.  Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?"  I remembered what I'd done to Jack after he asked me the same question and it was my turn to flush as I slipped into darkness and dreams…

I glared at the drunk slumped in the chair in the corner.  I hefted the mostly empty bottle and flung it against the wall were it shattered with a satisfying crash before stomping back to the forge.  I snatched up a hammer and began flailing at the metal.  Why had I even let myself hope?  I was cursed – that had to be it.  First my father disappeared, then my mum.  O God, why did you take her?  Why like that?  Then the workhouse – I shivered at the mere thought of the place.  I couldn't stand it, I couldn't so I'd run away to the coast and lived in the gutters until I'd found a ship willing to sign me on under a good, honest Captain who promised to help me find my father.  I didn't want to think about what had happened to the Good Hope.  Didn't want to think about how Captain Davis had died.  Bloody pirates!!  I hate them!  I hate them!  I pray Lt. Norrington hangs them all!  The only survivor – why?  Why me? Then the Governor's daughter, I paused and smiled a little at the thought of Elizabeth, tried to help me.  Her father promised to find me an apprenticeship under a fine master and Elizabeth had promised to teach me to read.  But the Governor made sure that Elizabeth saw me as little as possible and while my master didn't beat me – how much longer until we were both out in the street?  I just kept pounding on the iron that had long since gone cold not longer even really seeing it.

"Is that supposed to be a horseshoe?"

I whipped around so suddenly in surprise that I actually flung the hammer at my customer but he picked it neatly out of the air "I only ask because my horse needs shod."

I ran a hand across my forehead to clear away the sweat before answering not even really seeing the man "I don't know how to make horseshoes.  You need to talk to Master Brown."

He gave my master a dubious glance before looking back at me "Somehow I rather doubt he'll be of much assistance."

I shoved the metal back into the coals "I told you I can't." I was mortified at the tremble in my voice.

"It will be well young William Turner" he promised as a steadying hand wrapped around my shoulder.

"How?  How can it?" I screamed at him.  Part of me was horrified.  I was raging at a customer, a complete stranger but he pulled me in on the first sob.  Damn it I was thirteen years old – nearly a man grown.  I was not going to cry like a baby, I wasn't.  Except that I was, but he just rocked me gently as I bawled into his chest.  Wailing for the loss of the father I didn't know, for the mum who'd died in such pain, for the sea captain who for a little while had nearly been a father, and for my shattered hopes of something better here in Port Royal.

                No one had held me since mum died.  I didn't want to think about her, didn't want to think about them tumbling her without even the benefit of a funeral into pauper's grave.  Unmourned, unlamented by anyone but me. I'd convinced one of the laymen clergy to say a few words and to spell out her name on a scrap of rag.  I carved it into a piece of stone, unable to bear the though that she would lie unmarked and forgotten.  I shoved the thoughts away but they just came back.  I was dimly aware that the stranger was humming a lullaby.  The same part of me that was mortally embarrassed wanted to step away and tell him I wasn't a child – I stayed where I was letting him comfort me.  When my blubbering finally ran its course he handed me a deep red silk handkerchief.  Unable to meet his eyes I wiped my nose while wondering why a man dressed in rough homespun would be caring around a silk handkerchief. 

"Would you like me to teach you to make horseshoes?"

"What?"

"Well, young William Turner, it is a rather important thing for a blacksmith to know how to make.  Unless of course you've decided to give up becoming a blacksmith" he rather sounded as if he was hoping I would say just that.

"If you know how why don't you shoe your own horse?"

He gave me an odd smile "I said I'd teach you not that I'd shoe him myself."

It was only then that I really looked at the horse beside him "Trojan?  That's Mr. Bolger's horse."

"So that was the ass's name.  He shan't be requiring a horse any longer."

He clucked to the dapple gray gelding.  I was glad someone had finally gotten Trojan away from Mr. Bolger but I marveled at how well mannered he was as the green-eyed stranger ran a careful hand over his prominent, whip scarred ribs.  Mr. Bolger had sworn either he'd break the horse or the horse would break him.  He'd flogged him first and when that didn't work he'd starved him.  The only time Master Brown had ever raised a hand to me was when Mr. Bolger had caught me sneaking Trojan a little water and grass.  Mr. Bolger owned the shop and could turn us out at any time particularly since Master Brown was drinking away what little profit the shop turned.

"Would you?"

He gave a sweeping, elegant bow all out of keeping with his rough homespun cloths "It would be my privilege, young William Turner."

I smiled at the odd fellow "It's just Will."  I started to pull the iron I'd been hammering back out of the fire.

"Not that one" he had tilted his head to the side "It wants to be a sword, I think, I was always better with gems than metals."

"Do you know how to make swords?" I asked eagerly.

He gave the forge a chary look "It's been a very long time" I could feel myself deflating "but the Master of Sword I studied under was also a Master Sword Smith and I happen to possess copies of his treatises on the art."

So close – and yet still out of reach "I can't read."

"That is certainly easily remedied, young William Turner.  If you would be so kind as to help me restore poor Trojan's abused hooves I will teach you both reading and sword play and assist you as I may in the pursuit of becoming a Master Sword Smith – do we have an accord?"
It couldn't be real could it?  I must be dreaming or he was lying but I took his hand anyway and shook on it.

                Horseshoes turned out to be surprisingly easy and Trojan was a perfect gentleman never once so much as putting his ears back much less biting or kicking.  It was like seeing a completely different horse than the one that had spent the last month chained to the wall. 

"I'll be back a half hour past dawn, young William Turner" he said as he started to lead Trojan out of the shop.

"Wait – you know my name but I don't know yours."

He scratched Trojan's neck "So you're the Trojan horse are you?" He gave me a teasing smile "Noman am I."

Strange, very strange but I'd learned more about my trade today than I'd learned in nearly nine months with Master Brown.

                I was up long before dawn the next morning praying last night hadn't been some strange fantasy.  Please God, I can't take another disappointment. 

"Breakfast?" inquired a voice behind me.  I whirled wondering how in the world he'd gotten behind me.  Noman's green eyes were dancing with silent laughter.  My stomach gurgled in response.  I'd been far too nervous to eat.

 Noman's lips twitched "I'll take that as a yes." He waved toward the shop "Shall we?"

He set the steaming tray between us and opened the thick book he'd been balancing the tray on with a far away look.

"Maddewch I mi, fy iawn anwylyd cyfaill" he whispered softly as he ran a hand over a page.

"Your pardon?" I asked once I'd swallow another bite of the best breakfast I'd ever had.

He shook his head "Just remembering my old master."

He didn't have to say that the man was dead – it showed in his eyes.

"He loved the forge almost as much as he loved weapon's work" he shook off his melancholy with visible effort.  "It's been a very, very long time since I was at the forge" he said apologetically "and what time I did spend there I spent more to be in his company than because I had any real desire to learn the fine art of metallurgy."

"But you told me exactly how to do the horseshoes" I protested as the food suddenly turned to ice in my belly.

"Horseshoes I've had a fair bit of practical experience at through the years.  The last time I forged a sword I was younger than you.  Ah, ah chin up – I have the full life's work of the best sword smith to ever live and while I may be a fool no one has ever claimed I wasn't quick witted and I think you will prove an able student.  If a sword smith is your wish a sword smith it shall be.  Have a little faith, young William Turner."

"It's just" I played with my eggs "it's hard."

"You're too young, William Turner, to give up hope."

"Who are you really?"

Those green eyes twinkled teasingly "Your fairy godfather."

I looked him up and down – he didn't look like a fairy godfather "I thought you were supposed to grant three wishes and wave a magic wand or something."

He laughed "Don't believe everything you hear."  He frowned down at the book, pulled a black quill out of his shirt, and made a notation "Don't believe everything you read either.  I'd forgotten just how bad my penmanship was back then."

"Back when?"

"He had me start translating his volumes into English when I was nine.  I never did finish that assignment" he shrugged "sleep is overrated anyway."

"It's not in English?" the knot that had just started to loosen tightened again.

"This one is, more or less, the other three aren't, yet, which is why I shan't be getting much sleep for the next few weeks."

I felt my eyes going round as I looked at the size of the book he was leafing through "Three?"

"Well, I only plan on copying the relevant material.  I very much doubt the sections on the strategic purposes of heavy horse or siege engines would be of much use or interest to you."  His gaze flickered back to me "If you're finished we should start your weapons training."

If I hadn't been finished I was now.

Noman sighed and for just an instant his eyes seemed ancient "So eager, young William Turner, to learn the killing dance?  I wonder what kind of world it would be if we were all a little less eager."

"I just want to know how to defend myself" I rebutted chin held high.

His lips twitched but it wasn't a smile and his eyes were tired "That's what we all say."

 I looked around expecting a set of practice blades or something "Where are the swords?"

"We begin, young William Turner, with footwork."

I groaned.

This time his eyes were at least honestly amused "Be glad, young William Turner, that I am not Mannwan else it would be footwork for a year."

                I sighed and rolled my aching shoulders.  A set of firm but gentle fingers swiftly worked out the knots.

"Thank you" I said as I set the hammers back in their place.  I was so tired I could curl up on the floor of the shop and sleep the clock round but it was a satisfied, triumphant tired.  Noman picked up the blade and tried to balance it.  It tipped up just a bit but not enough to actually topple it onto the floor.  He then tested the temper. 

"Better than my first blade" he allowed with a smile "Mannwan would make you melt it down and reforge it until it was perfect" his smiled wider at my dismayed look "but I'm not Mannwan and this is already a better blade than all but the best officers carry."  He flipped it up and presented it to me with a flourish "Congratulations, young William Turner, on becoming a sword smith in less than a seven day." That teasing light reappeared "Now you just have to sucker someone into buying it."  Both of us looked around as Master Brown groaned once, rose, and shuffled out of the shop.

"So it does move" Noman observed wryly "I was beginning to wonder."

"Useless bastard" I muttered under my breath.

Noman leaned back against the shop wall looking nearly as tired as I felt "Once upon a time when I was older than you but a good bit younger than I am now I met someone a bit like Master Brown.  Well, stumbled over him actually, nearly literally, in a gutter but I thought he might be useful so I cleaned him up and dried him out enough for him to manage to string a sentence together.  Bledri was so far gone when I found him he couldn't even buy another drink."

He went silent.

"What kind of name is Bledri?" I asked, for that matter I wondered what kind of name was Mannwan?

"I suppose you could say it's Welsh, sort of.  For years I insulted, belittled, and generally used Bledri as my own personal carpet and then I found out why he drank himself into a stupor.  And I was more than a little ashamed.  Long before I was born Bledri was the faithful servant of a king but he discovered that the king's only son and heir was committing horrible crimes.  He reported those actions to his king expecting that the prince would be punished.  But you see the king only had one son and so instead of punishing him he banished Bledri.  For some years Bledri lived and lived well in his exile.  He missed his wife, his home, and his children of course but he thought they were better off where they were.  Then something unexpected happened – the prince's wife bore twins, one died but the other was secretly hidden elsewhere.  You see the prince was justly terrified that if his father should find himself with an alternative heir he would be removed from the succession.   But Blood will tell and when the prince discovered his rival he chose to remove his father."

I gasped "He murdered his own father?"

"There's an old saying, young William Turner, 'kings do not love the princes who will supplant them nor do princes love the kings who thwart them.'  In the halls of power there is little room for love.  No few kings have fallen by the hand of their sons and no few princes by the hand of their fathers."  He shrugged "and I suppose there is even a rough justice in it.  The old king knowingly let his son rampage and in the end paid the price."

"And the other heir?"

"That is a story as yet unfinished" he replied enigmatically "but it is of Bledri I wish to speak.  You see the old king had been protecting Bledri's wife and children from the prince and with his death new king was free to do with them as he wished.  He destroyed them all, by as appallingly a means as he could find while making very sure Bledri knew how and why and then he" he shook his head letting the thought trail off.  "You know Bledri never had to speak of what happened.  The prince's crimes were not against anyone for whom Bledri cared.  But he spoke out because what was happening was wrong and every day Bledri faces the knowledge that his entire family is dead because he did what was right.  While I rather doubt Master Brown's life holds a tragedy on the scale of Bledri's no child wakes up and says 'when I grow up I want to drink myself insensible everyday and make a shambles of my life'.  When a man drinks like that it is to hide from a pain that either he does not wish to or can not face.  If he does not wish to then he is to be pitied for his cowardice, if he can not then his fate is to be mourned.  Either way, young William Turner, it is unwise to judge that of which you know not."

"But it's not just his life" I protested weekly "it's mine now too. Why did he take me as apprentice if he had no intention of teaching me?"

"No man an island" Noman mused from his perch against the wall "I don't know.  Maybe he just wanted another set of hands or maybe he thought you would give him a reason not to kill himself by inches."

"Or maybe he doesn't have a bloody clue about blacksmithing" I sounded sulky even to myself.

"No" Noman gestured up the hill "Governor Swann may not be much of a judge of men but he knows paper.  Master Brown must have offered convincing credentials.  He may not want you anywhere near his daughter but he isn't against you either, young William Turner.  At some point Master Brown must have cleaned himself up enough to present a convincing case" he sighed "whether either of them did right by you is an open question but Master Brown wanted you here."

"Really?" I asked as I blinked owlishly at Noman, my eyes were sliding shut no matter how hard tried to keep them open.

"Really" Noman replied firmly and then chuckled "Pleasant dreams."  I felt myself lifted gently and carried off to bed…

                I sat bolt upright on my pallet as I realized the sun was long up.  I scurried down to the shop, burst through doors, and came to a sliding stop in shock.  I proceeded more cautiously, watching for the intruders that had tied up Noman.

"Good morning" he mumbled cheerily around the pick in his mouth.  The lock in front of him snicked open, he spat out the pick and slid the blindfold off of one eye with his shoulder revealing one of those green eyes "I was thinking we should go swimming today now that you're awake."

"But we have work to do" he was awfully merry for being trussed up like a Christmas goose "Who, why are you?"

"Six days thou shalt labor and on the seventh thou shalt rest" he said as he squirmed out of one set of ropes "All work and no play makes young William Turner a very dull boy."

Sunday, oh drat, I'd missed church.  I slumped down on the stones.  I promised mum I'd go.  He flipped himself around to face me better.

I jumped up – how could I have not offered before? "Don't worry I'll get you loose."

"Don't" he rebutted "that would make the exercise rather pointless."

"You did this to yourself?"

"It was only the Wind and I here until you came in" he answered as the blindfold and another loop of rope slipped free.  I wasn't sure which was crazier (or more impressive) that he'd gotten himself into that mess or that he actually seemed to be getting loose.

"Why?"

"For the same reason I was picking the lock – it wouldn't do to get out of practice."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that so I settled for "I can't swim."

He looked absolutely horrified "Well, that simply will not do, young William Turner."

"It's just WILL."

"It still won't do just WILL, and what is amiss?"

"I missed church."

"Your pardon" he tried to give one of those bows of his but it didn't work terribly well with both hands still tied behind his back "had I known I would have awakened you."

"Why are you tied at both the wrists and the elbows?"

"Because any jailor or executioner worth his salt knows that a desperate enough man can free himself if only bound at the wrists and only a very great fool binds a man's hand in front of him." He shook his head and a slender blade slipped out of his dark hair.  He caught it and made short work of the remaining ropes.  "Not many people remember to check hair for hidden weapons.  You should grow yours out."

"That would be dishonest" I replied chin raised. 

He shrugged "As you like."

"When they hang the pirates they only bind their wrists in front of them."

"That's because your executioner likes to give the crowd a bit of sport.  It's hard to do a proper gallows dance with your hands bound securely behind you.  You'll note with the drops he does that most of them strangle – another way to draw out the entertainment."

His voice was utterly neutral but I could feel a flush spreading over my face as I remembered cheering as men died.  I wasn't going to be ashamed – I wasn't.  They were just filthy thieving murderers.  It was justice.  And I hated them.

"Now what do you say to breakfast and a swimming lesson?"

"Honestly, just WILL do I have to drag you in?"

I shuffled my feet in the sand not wanting to admit I was terrified of the water.  Trojan gave me a push with his muzzle.  Truth told I'd forgotten Noman even had the horse until I'd seen him grazing in the little cove and looking utterly contented.

He cocked his head to the side "She's going to think you don't like Her."

"She who?"

He waved a hand encompassing the ocean "The Sea."  He sat down kitty corner to me in the sand with his bare feet in the gently lapping waves "You wouldn't want to hurt Her feelings now would you?"

I hadn't realized Noman was a sailor until that moment – only sailors talk that way about the sea.  It was more than just the words it was the mix of awe and longing that only true old salts have.

"It's just so big and so deep" 'and it has some many things in it' I thought but didn't voice.

"Aye, She is that.  There aren't many things, just WILL, in this world that make me feel trifling but She does.  Men call Her fickle and cruel but they don't know Her and She doesn't know them." He dropped back on his elbows with his head thrown back and his long braided queue drifting in the wavelets.  "They don't realize how vast and timeless She truly is.  All rivers ultimately flow to Sea, all rain clouds are born of Her substance and return to Her.  There is no malice in Her but She is only dimly aware of all that passes both on Her surface and within Her depths." He looked back at me "Would you blame the Fire in your forge just WILL if it burned you?"

"Of course not."

"Then why do you blame the Sea when men are lost in Her depths?  Why do you blame Her for being what She is?"

"I wouldn't jump into it either"

"Fair enough" he allowed "If She promises not to drown you will you venture forth?"

"You can't speak for the sea."

"No, but I can speak to Her.  That She hears me both uplifts and humbles me."

"You're mad."

He laughed an odd sound like the wind in waves "Why is it people insist on telling me what I already know?  Again, just Will, if the Sea promises not to drown you will you learn to swim?"

I felt the hair on the back of my neck suddenly stand at attention and for the first time I wondered if that quip about being my fairy godfather had been meant in more than jest.

I wrapped my arms around my knees, hid my face, and finally confessed "I'm afraid."

"Fears left to fester eventually strangle you" he said as he rose and offered me his hand "My word just WILL whatever else happens in your life you will not drown..."

"Elizabeth!"

"Will!"

"Monkey!"

"I can't move it!"

Trapped! With water rushing in on every side.  'You lied to me' my mind shouted at the green-eyed man who'd vanished out of my life so long ago.  I flailed, diving, searching for a way out.  I can't die, not now I have to save Elizabeth.  I can't they'll kill her.  I love her, I can't let the pirates have her.  Lungs burning, screaming for air, vision graying out…  Air and light!  How?  A cry from above – Elizabeth! I scramble madly up the side of the Black Pearl my miraculous appearance beside her forgotten…

"Sharks!" I shouted and turned frantically back to shore.  We were never going to make it out of the chest deep water in time!

"Dolphins" Noman countered catching my arm before letting out a series of clicks and squeals.

I held my breath as they surrounded us with their fishy bodies while Noman beamed in delight.  Noman produced a ball from somewhere and tossed it.  They sped off clicking and squealing and then circled the cove as they jockeyed for possession of the ball before one of them tossed it back to Noman with his nose.  Noman caught it and threw it to me.  I nearly dropped it in a panic as they swam around me.

"Throw it" Noman yelled as he swam back away from me and raised his hands.  My toss fell short and the dolphins reclaimed the ball, their sleek gray bodies flashing in and out of the water.  One of them rolled and flipped the ball back to Noman using his tail.  He caught it neatly and tossed it back to me.  I was more prepared this time and tossed it to the smallest dolphin who promptly zipped off while trying to keep it steady on his nose.  He turned and shot the ball back to me which I passed to Noman who tossed it to a different dolphin.  We passed the better part of an hour gamboling with the dolphins before the little one nudged me with his nose.  I looked at Noman in confusion.

"He's offering you a ride."

"What?"

He clicked to one of the others, grasped the dorsal fin, and let the dolphin pull him over to me.

"Here hold him like this.  No" he readjusted my hands and pushed away. 

"Wha" I started to ask before the little dolphin took off.

"Relax" Noman called as his own dolphin came alongside "and enjoy."

We circled the cove before coming to a stop.  The dolphins slipped away as quickly as they'd come.  I sloughed back up onto the beach and flopped onto the sand.  Noman followed looking as reluctant to leave the water as I had been to enter it.

"Still alive just WILL?" he asked lightly as he handed me bread and cheese from a prepacked basket.

"How many times must I ask you to call me Will?"

"At least one more?" he suggested with a smile as he sat with his feet in the water.

"Noman" I grumbled.

He sighed "Call it a personality quirk but I can't seem to use the same name for two different people, at least not two I favor.  Will has been taken for a very long time.  For that matter so has William and Turner doesn't truly fit you."  He tilted his head and that teasing glint reappeared.  It wasn't a malicious teasing like I'd seen far too often in others but more as if he was laughing at a joke no one else understood "Cennan" he pronounced "I shall call you Cennan."

'How on earth' I wondered 'do you get Cennan from William Turner?'

"You could call me Bill" I suggested tentatively.

He shook his head "That's your father."

I stared at him in shock for several breaths.  I'd given up even asking about him because no one anywhere seemed to have even heard of him much less seen him.

"You know my father?"

He scratched Trojan's chin "I came to Port Royal for one reason only, Cennan."

The horse snorted almost sounding indignant.  Noman smiled "Don't fuss, you're a fine animal and you deserve better than to be owned by that ass but I didn't come here for you."

"Did he send you?  Do you know where he is?"  My lunch was forgotten as I leaned forward eagerly.  HE KNEW MY FATHER!

He flushed "It is somewhat embarrassing to admit, Cennan, that I seem to have lost track of him.  If I knew where he was it would be him here and when I leave I'll most assuredly be keeping a weather eye out for him."

"You're leaving then?"  I was crushed – I'm cursed no one stays.

He cupped my chin raising my head so I was looking him in the eye "I'm sorry to hurt you but I can't stay.  I can not, it isn't really a choice."

The horse made a sound of protest.

"Don't worry, I'll find you an owner that will appreciate you before I go."

Trojan shook his head and laid his chin on Noman's shoulder "I can't take you with me either boy."

I wasn't sure if he was addressing me or the horse.

"I'm not leaving this instant you know" he said "I promised, Cennan, to teach you to reading and sword play and we've barely started.  And I promise I'll stay as long as I can."

"Then he didn't send you" I said to my knees – I'd hoped that maybe if he couldn't come himself he'd sent a friend.

"He wanted me to go with him back to London when he received word your mother was ill but I couldn't."

My head snapped back up.  He'd gone to London.  After so many years he'd come home.  I remembered all the long nights when my mum prayed for his safety out on the sea and that one day we'd be together again.  But we'd never had any word – just a single golden coin that I'd lost to the sea on that horrible day on the Good Hope.  He'd come home too late.

"When I realized the two of you had missed each other I decided to do what I could for you."

"You must be good friends" I said faintly – I was not going to bawl in front of him a second time.

"We've had our differences" Noman replied rubbing his neck "but all in all he's a good man."

"What's he like?"  Mum had told me about him – but she was my mum and she loved him – I wanted to hear what a man had to say.

Noman looked me up and down "I'd say that you favor him a great deal but you must have your mother's eyes and hair.  He's a quiet man, doesn't like to be the center of attention but he's a very good listener.  Considerate, he has a tendency to know what you want done even before you ask.  Hard working, honest, honorable, loyal, and with a great deal of good sense.  Doesn't get angry easily and only rarely lets his temper get away from him.  Smart but not terribly original or necessarily quick on his feet.  And he's the best marksman with a gun I've ever seen, and I've seen quite a few."  He pulled me to my feet "Now it's time we got back to work…"

                "Who are you?" Master Brown slurred as we stepped back into the shop.

"Journeyman Noman" he replied with a flourish "but newly come to study under you and assist in the training of your apprentice."

Master Brown grunted "Could use some help with the lad, can't pay much though."

"The privilege of studying under so talented a master is payment enough."

I blinked at Noman amazed at how easily that flattering falsehood fell convincingly from his lips.

Master Brown nodded and collapsed back into his accustomed chair.

"Where did that donkey come from?" I asked quickly in hopes of getting a response before he passed out again.

"Went to pay Bolger and found him wandering loose.  Thought he might be useful…" he mumbled before he drifted away.

"What am I going to do about him?"  I asked Noman who spread his hands.

"I don't know what to tell you, Cennan.  I've seen men in even worse states pull themselves back together for the sake of someone who was willing to reach out and I've seen men with all reason and help in the world not."  He shook his head "What you do or don't do for Master Brown is up to you but you can't change him only he can do that.  All you can do is try to give him a reason to change."

I went over and patted the donkey "What should we call him?"

"Mr. Bolger" Noman replied.

"Why?"

"He's an ass" Noman said all but rolling his eyes.  The donkey laid back his ears and glared at him.

                "Back him up a little more" Noman called.  I stroked Trojan's velvety nose and complied.  Mr. Bolger laid back his ears snapped at Trojan's flank.

"Keep it up, jack ass" Noman threatened "and I'll geld you.  It's you who should have been gelded to begin with."

He patted Trojan's dark muzzle "What a crime."

"What?"

"You don't realize what he is" Noman unhitched Trojan and led him forward "This is the finest Andalusian I've ever seen and that ignoramus gelded him for no better reason than he didn't know how to handle an exceptional horse."

He sighed and started unbuckling the harness "Hitch the ass up and let's see if it works."

I gave the gears a dubious look "Do you think we have it right?"

"Well, it matches the book" Noman didn't sound much more confident than I felt.

He turned to the door with his hand dropping to the hilt of his exquisite dragon dagger.  I froze but his hand dropped away before the door even opened.  Major Arnold stepped stiffly in.

"I would like to speak to Master Brown."

Noman's light good humor vanished to be replaced by a deferential seriousness "I'm terribly sorry but Master Brown is unavailable.  Might I be of some assistance?"

The major sniffed disparagingly "And who might you be?"

"Journeyman Noman, at your service" he said with slight inclination of the head.

"I had expected to speak with a Master, but I require the services of a blacksmith and I suppose the task is not overly difficult."  He arched brow and stepped further into the shop "I didn't realized Brown was a sword smith."

"To the best of my knowledge he isn't" Noman replied with just a hint of pride. 

"Ah" the major picked up the sword I'd finished only this morning.  He gave it an experimental swing, checked the balance and the temper and glanced back at Noman with more respect.  "A plain blade but a well made one. How much?"

Noman named a price that had both of our eyebrows raised.

"Think highly of yourself, don't you Journeyman?  Why should I pay that much for a journeyman's blade?"
"Because it's a perfectly balanced blade of well tempered folded steel.  That blade will stand up to more battles than I'd wager you'll survive.  Unlike that bit of flashy trash you're currently wearing that will be the death of you if you don't replace it."

Arnold unbent a bit and almost smiled before remembering that he was a marine major "You'll do, Journeyman Noman, by Jove, you'll do."

Noman tilted his head "And for what shall I do?"

"Our old cells were damaged in the earthquake some years ago and we've been making do ever since.  I've decided that new cells are an imperative.  I'd like an estimate both of cost and completion time by this evening, Journeyman."  He counted out the coins for the sword and they shook on it.

Noman dropped the coins into my hand the instant he was gone "I hope you don't mind Cennan but your swords will fetch a better price and be more likely to sell if you use another name until you're grown."

I hardly heard him.  ONE OF MY SWORDS HAD SOLD!  I grinned at him like an idiot and he ruffled my hair.

"Let's go take a look at the good major's cells."

                Noman sighed like someone who had just had the weight of the world put on his shoulders.

"You can't do this alone, Cennan.  This won't be an easy job even for two."

"Master Brown" I began but Noman shook his head.

"Master Brown can barely buy his own rum."

"But you can help" I offered eagerly.  We were in dire straights which Noman knew even better than I since he'd been teaching me figures using the shop's books in the evening.

He closed his eyes and I felt my guts knotting up again.  While he'd guided my hands more than once he'd never actually touched hammer or iron in all the weeks he'd been teaching me.

"Alright Cennan, let's write the good major's estimate and get started in the morning."

                Noman set his hammer aside and all but fell back against the wall.  He wiped the sweat from his brow with a rag and eyed the grate we'd just finished.

"Always hated cells" he commented before gulping water and then upending the bucket over his head.  "A sword may be crafted for the sole purpose of killing someone but at least it has a certain elegant beauty.  That is just plain ugly."

"Would you prefer we just let criminals roam free?"  I snapped back.

Noman shrugged "I've seen as many innocent men in cells as guilty ones in my life."

"Innocent men have nothing to fear from the justice of the law" I rebutted.

He pinched the bridge of his nose "No offence, Cennan, but the law has very little to do with justice."

"You don't believe in justice?"

He shrugged "I would like to believe in justice, I've just seen very little of it."  There was a stiffness in him when he shoved himself back to his feet "Less chatter, more work let's get this done."

                I was concerned.  Noman pretended nothing was wrong but I'd watched mum pretend she was fine for three years before she died.  He was better at it than she was but I knew the signs.  At first I'd just assumed it was aching muscles from unfamiliar work but it was more than that.  That laughing glint had faded from his eyes being replaced what looked to be a bone deep weariness.  I wondered again about that fairy godfather comment and the stories about fairies not being able to tolerate cold iron.  Except he'd forged swords himself before so that didn't make sense.  He nearly dropped his end of the cell wall we were shimming into place.

"Let's take a break" I suggested.

He just blinked dully at me as if he didn't even quite understand what I'd said.  Forget concerned, I was suddenly deeply worried.

"We could go down to the beach."

More incomprehension.  I settled for steering him in the direction of the little cove just outside of town that he seemed to favor.  Trojan threw up his head and galloped happily over to us with his snow white tail flowing behind him like a flag.  I shoved his muzzle away before he could drizzle half chewed grass all over me again.  He snuffled in disappointment and then nudged Noman who patted him absentmindedly.  The horse's ears flickered back and I swear there was an accusation in those brown eyes.  I gave him another restrained shove in the general direction of the water, not really sure what I expected a dip in the ocean to do but for some reason certain that this was the right thing to do. 

"You might want to take off your boots."

He blinked at me and then looked down at his feet.  So there was still something working behind those blank eyes.  A wave brushed over his hand when he knelt to slip off a boot and the difference was startling.  He was just suddenly there again.  The eyes that had been dead glittered with life and he took a quick glance around.

"I rather think a short break would be an excellent idea though it might upset our schedule a bit." 

So he had heard me "The Dominant's in port for a refit – they can use its brig until we're finished."

"Quite right" he started to step forward and I felt my heart sink.

"Your boots and dagger" I reminded.

"Ah, yes, how absent minded of me" he glanced around and moved up the beach a bit before half stripping and sinking into a natural pool with a deep sigh. "Care to join me?"

I shook my head and noticed the little black ship in the cove for the first time.

"Where?"

"That's Peregrine, he's mine.  I moved him up the coast last week while you were in church" He laid back as if he was trying to become one with the water.

I could have sworn I heard a muttered 'did not' as I settled down with my feet dangling into the same pool.

"May I?" I asked with my hand hovering over that exquisite hilt.

His eyes went wary and I thought he was going to say no "Don't touch the edge, not even to test it and mind Angnar.  He has a tendency to nip."

"Angnar?"

"The red dragon."

I slipped my hand around the surprisingly light hilt.  The gleaming white blade whispered free and every hair on the back of my arm stood at attention.

"It's not steel."

Noman's eyes had disconcertingly rolled back in his head but he still answered "Dragon's tooth."

"What?"

Thankfully his eyes rolled back as he looked over at me "Legend holds that Risanca was forged over eight thousand years ago from a tooth of the white dragon Nimrais."

"A dragon's tooth?" I repeated skeptically.

He shrugged while pushing across the pool so he could face me "That's the legend."

"The pastor says the world is only six thousand years old."

"I'm sure he does."

"You think it's older?"

"Yes, but then your pastor is only guessing himself since the Bible never says how long Adam tarried in the garden."

I let the blade slip back into its sheath and really studied the red and white dragons for the first time.

"So these are Angnar and Nimrais?"

"We should be getting back to work" he started to pull himself out of the pool.

"Tell me the legend" I said quickly.  His eyes were clearer than they'd been in days and if the sea was the reason I wanted to keep him in it a bit longer.  He settled back with a what sounded more like a muffled groan than a sigh.  He tilted his head to the side.  His eyes were still slightly unfocused.

"Ten thousand years ago the Great Ice that had long covered the Land of the Mighty began to melt."

"Your legend says that all of England was buried under ice?" I think I'd have an easier time believing in dragons.

"It was" there was utter conviction in voice and eyes "Earth remembers long and for those with eyes to see the scars of the Great Ice are quite plain.  But it's irrelevant to the tale.  The last four dragons Angnar, Nimrais, Cranak, and Mallith made war for Yns Pyrdain the Land of the Mighty until it was feared that all the lands should be pulled asunder and utterly destroyed.  So a bold young man and two of his friends went forth to treat with the dragons.  They were not expected to return but the dragons in their horrible battles had mortally wounded each other and Angnar the Red, Cranak the Golden, and Mallith the Black each chose one of the young men as his champion.  Nimrais the White held himself aloof claiming that none was worthy and he would choose his champions from generations as yet unborn.   To each man and his followers was granted the magic of the dragons so that it should not fade from the earth.  Each of the young men became a king and their people became the Ellyllon.  The PenThalions came to rule Avalon, the PenBrithons ruled Lantis and the PenNaiths led Llyonesse.   But the war the dragons had begun continued among their successors until the Penthalions alone remained." Noman shrugged "It is said that the restless ghosts of the dragons drive men to war.  Pa un draig dichlyn chwi?"

"Huh?"

"Which dragon chose you?  All of my people are held to belong to Angnar save those rare few that Nimrais chooses." He closed his eyes and began to chant

And every year the bairns come  As they have come before

To learn the Way and the dragon lore.

And the aged shake their heads

For those who shall not die in their beds.

The chosen of Nimrais.

When Nimrais chooses the poets leap

And the bairn's beloveds weep

For no restful sleep

Under earth dark and deep

Awaits the chosen of Nimrais

Nimrais chooses only the bold and brave

To drag down into an early unmarked grave.

He shall find only grief

And fortunate is he whose life is brief 

Who is chosen of Nimrais.

A great name

And everlasting fame

But unto darkness he early came

And we know upon whom to cast the blame.

Ill-fated are the chosen of Nimrais

 

"It's the Alawthu a Mallory, the Lament for the Ill-fated."  He pulled himself swiftly out of the water, dressed, and belted the dagger back around his waist.

"I seem to recall a certain cell block we have yet to finish and I've rambled on far too much."

His eyes were finally clear and some of that teasing light was back.

                "Where did we get these hinges?"  he looked at them as if they were something with too many legs that had crawled out from under a rock.

"We already had them in the shop.  Why?  What's wrong with them?"

"They're not half –pin barrel hinges that's what."

"What's a half-pin barrel hinge?"

Noman laid a hand on his forehead and moaned theatrically "I've failed.  Over two months and you don't know a half-pin barrel hinge?"

I searched my memory frantically but to the best my recollection we'd never spoken of hinges much less ones of the half-pin barrel variety "I'm sorry."

He smiled, eyes merry if weary "It's alright Cennan.  We've spent so much time on weapons we've done far too little else.  If it wasn't for these butt-ugly, thrice benighted cells you'd probably end up knowing nothing but horseshoes and swords."  He frowned "Let's get these back to the shop and put some proper hinges on them."

"But we could be finished today" I protested.

"I seem to recall someone mentioning that the Dominant's brig is available and the hinges won't take long.  We'll be done in the fore noon watch tomorrow."

"Why do they have to be half-pin barrel hinges?"

"I'll show you tomorrow."

                "Why do you insist on staring at me?" Noman asked the shaggy dog as if he expected an answer.  "Go on, shoo, scat, get, vamoosh."

"He isn't hurting anything."

Noman glared at the dog with his hands on his hips.  He handed the dog the ring of keys "Here do something useful if you aren't going to move."

"You said you'd show me why we had to have half-pin barrel hinges."

He picked up the bench and hooked it in between the bars "Because with the right leverage and the proper application of strength the door will lift free."

I just blinked at him "We just built cells that are designed for escapes?"

"No, technically we just built cells that are designed for rescues.  You really can't get the proper leverage from inside even if the jailer was kind enough to give you a bench."

"Do you spend a lot of time breaking people out of cells?"

"I don't think I should answer that question" he said as he replaced the door with himself on the inside.  He pulled a set of lock picks out of his hair and had the door open in less time than it would have taken me with the key.

"You're not English are you?"

"No" he retrieved the keys from the dog, relocked the cell, and returned the keys to the dog.

 "You're a spy" I whispered.

"Not at the moment and a word to the wise if I were and I knew you'd discovered it I'd have to silence you.  Discretion is the better part of valor, Cennan." He said as he methodically double checked our work.

I sighed with relief.  I'd begun to suspect he was a pirate and that would have been awful.  I'm not sure why I thought a spy was better except that it was.

He nodded his satisfaction "Let's go inform the good major that his cells are finished."

"Aren't you going to get the keys back from the dog?"

"Why?"

                I rolled over restlessly, unable to sleep.  I tossed again and sighed in frustration.  I rose and slipped over to the shop and stopped in the doorway in surprise. 

"You should be asleep, Cennan."

"What are you doing?"

"Translating."

I could barely pick him out in the dark.  I lit a candle and joined him at the table.

"How can you see?"

"I have very good night eyes and I've had a lot of practice."  He gave me a measuring look "Obviously I'm not working you hard enough if you have the energy to be up."

"How many nights have you been over here in the dark?"

"I require very little sleep."

"That wasn't an answer."

"Most. Once I started sorting through my library on the Peregrine I noticed a few other texts I thought you might find useful."

So that was why he'd seemed so tired.

"You should get some sleep."

"I'm not tired."

I licked my lips, it sounded very convincing, if I hadn't seen him, if I hadn't watched my mum, I'd have even believed it.

"You shouldn't lie when you can get caught in it" that was a bit of advice my mum had taught me with a wooden spoon.

Something flashed through his eyes and for the first time I was afraid of him.  It wasn't as if I hadn't known he was dangerous.  Over two months of three hours a day of weapons lessons had taught me just how good he was with a blade but I'd never actually thought of him as a killer before.  He just didn't have that edge you see in hardened men, until now.  It vanished as rapidly as it appeared.

"I suppose I shouldn't" he allowed "there's no point in my going to bed Cennan, I shan't sleep anyway.  I rarely do."

He went back to writing.

"Why not?"

He didn't reply.

"Fair's fair, what are you afraid of?  It can't be the dark."

His lips twitched in a not smile "No, it certainly isn't the dark."  He fiddled with his jet black quill before replying "I have nightmares.  More than three hours of unbroken sleep is a rare gift.  I've had as much as I'm likely to get tonight."  He laid the quill aside, brought his hands together, set his chin on his fingertips, and gave me his full attention. "Now, Cennan what is troubling your sleep this fair night?"

I looked down at my knuckles as they rested on the table "She's gone."

"Why don't you tell me about her?"

I shook my head, I wasn't ready, not even three years later. Three years – it seemed like yesterday. Maybe I never would be to talk about how she died.

"So what would you like to talk about?"

I thought about it.  We'd already talked on several occasions about my father but I decided to ask the question again

"Why did he wait so long to come home?  And why did he leave in the first place if he wasn't always a sailor?"

Noman shook his head "I've told you before – those aren't my tales to tell.  When you meet your father you can ask him."

"But you know and you're here."

"No, Cennan."

I sighed.  He drew the line in the oddest places but I'd learned that once you found one you'd have better luck moving a mountain with a shovel.

"What was he like?"

"Who?"
I nodded to the books spread on the table before him "Your old Sword Master."

I wanted to take back the question as pain flashed through his eyes.  He looked no more eager to talk about Mannwan than I was about mum.

"I could say that he was tall and strong with hair the color of purest gold and eyes like the cloudless skies but that tells you nothing of the real Mannwan.  Mannwan was honor.  He was obsessed with it.  He did nothing without considering the right and the wrong of it.  His body dedicated to his liege lord, his heart to purest chivalry, and his mind to the forge and all things military.  I wonder what I would have become without Mannwan for he taught me so much more than just swordplay and earth mastery.  Oh mi anwylyd cyfaill what would you think of me?" He paused eyes far, far away "He tried so hard to teach me honor, justice, and loyalty.  Until him they were only words without meaning."

"I thought you didn't believe in justice" I prompted him.

"I don't believe justice is to be found in the courts and the law.  If you had seen even a tithe of the crimes committed by the law that I have you'd not gainsay me.  My oath, mi cyfaill if my hour ever comes I'll change that."  He shook his head "I never cared before him about any man's opinion but a hard word from Mannwan could crush me. I don't bestow my affections nor my respect lightly and few others have held the influence Mannwan had.  He was only my Master for a few brief years.  He was the Captain of my grandfather's Guard before he was sent to instruct me and when my grandfather was murdered my sire recalled him."

"You're a lord's son?" I asked dubiously while looking at his rough clothes.

"Something like that but I'd have given everything I've ever owned and all of my legacy to have been a Guardsman's son.  I didn't see him again for years not until the day I met my sire.  And the situation was somewhat different then.  There's very little I wouldn't give for" he stopped "I'm such a fool Cennan.  Do you know what difference is between a wise man and a fool?"

I shook my head.

"It's not that a wise man makes no mistakes it's that he learns from them but I always seem to leave the most important things unsaid.  All my life seems little more than dangling conversations."  He flipped the books shut and rose.

"Where are you going?"

"It will be dawn soon, Cennan.  I thought I'd walk by the Sea and listen to the Wind while the sun rises.  Don't forget we're to shoe the Governor's carriage horses today."

                I was grinning like an idiot.  I knew it but I couldn't seem to stop.  Elizabeth had wheedled her way into coming down and was chatting at me as I worked on shoeing her father's horses.  Whatever I already owed Noman for all he'd done I owed him double now.  He'd rescued me from making a hopeless idiot of myself at least three times, maybe more since I was so busy being starry-eyed I could barely avoid walking into walls much less manage to shoe a horse.  He was laughing at me with his eyes.  Not maliciously but laughing all the same.  He neatly avoided a kick from Bolger.  I didn't understand it.  Every other equine that passed through the doors was perfectly behaved except Bolger. 

"Have you had any word of Mr. Bolger?" the Governor inquired politely of Master Brown who marvel of marvels was actually awake and nearly sober.  The Governor, of course, couldn't have his daughter associating with the blacksmith's lad and the grooms unaccompanied.

"No word at all.  Didn't mention that he was going away either.  Just up and disappeared two months gone."

"Very odd, indeed" the Governor allowed clearly uncomfortable talking to Master Brown but just as uneasy with the silence.

"What does happen to the property ifen he doesn't return?"

"If there is no word for a year and a day then we will attempt to contact his heirs."

The donkey brayed indignantly.

"Nobody asked you" Noman grumbled under his breath around a mouthful of nails.

He dropped the last hoof and gave the big gray mare a sugar cube "That's a girl.  All done sir."

I shot him a glance but he shrugged as if to say we'd stalled enough.  Elizabeth was leaving.  The day was suddenly bleaker.

                "Where have you been?" I demanded.  It was long past sunrise.

"Delivering Trojan to Mr. Avery."

My eyes widened at the sight of the books under his arm.

"You're leaving."

"I have to."

"No you don't" I snapped to the coals as I heated the blade I'd just started.

"William Turner, please listen to me."

I set the hammer down and turned reluctantly to him.  I didn't want this and had some odd notion that if I didn't actually let him finish he'd stay.  That he wouldn't let this become another dangling conversation.

"It was you the pirates were seeking on the Good Hope."

Me – all that because of me?

"The day will come when they return to finish what they started.  And now on account of her sticky fingers they'll be looking for young Elizabeth Swann as well."

"Elizabeth?" I wrapped my hand around the hilt of the glowing blade.

"An excellent idea" Noman said "but on them not me" as I turned back with the heated sword.

"Sorry."

"You've the makings, Cennan, of a truly great swordsman and I look forward to crossing blades with you again when you've grown a bit more.  Three hours a day, lad, every day, because one day a pirate is going to come looking for you.   I've wrapped the gold in silence until the time is right."

"What are you talking about?"

He sighed "With any luck at all, lad, I'll find your father and you'll never know."  He gaze flickered to the right and his hand tightened around the hilt of his dragon dagger. "I haven't much time."  He set the books on the table "Wind to your sails, Cennan."

"Please don't leave" I hated the begging tone in my voice.

His head snapped to the left as he tensed "I can't stay.  My apologies."

I flung the sword at the doorframe meaning to pin him in the shop but he snapped it out of the air.  My God but I'd never realized just how fast he was.

"That's a very good trick but don't try it on me again."

"You're being hunted" I suddenly realized "You're just a bloody pirate yourself.  Just go.  I hate you!"

"Best of luck, Cennan" he said to my back.

I shouldn't have said that, we shouldn't part like that but when I turned back he was already gone.

'Dolphins' was my first thought 'I hear dolphins'.

A light hand moved over my torso.  Noman or Mallory I suppose.  I pretended to still be asleep.  It was probably a futile gesture but I wasn't quite ready to meet those green eyes again.  God but I'd been a total ass.  When you set his actions against the broader picture of Mr. Gibbs' and my father's tales what he'd done for me became even more than I'd thought.  My father had tried to kill him but he'd done his best for me anyway.  Possibly even more than is best.  He must have stayed until the last possible minute why else would he have ended up on the Dominant instead of the Peregrine unless he'd had to choose between a press gang or whatever was hunting him?  And clearly he had trouble with Earth and yet he'd worked in the forge.  How much harm had he done himself?  Only to be rebuffed.  I'd done my level best after he disappeared to forget that he even existed.  And then today - what task had he dropped to come here only to be asked rude questions?  I could feel myself flush.  I was far more of an ass than Mr. Bolger.  Oh my God, the donkey had just shown up right when Mr. Bolger disappeared.  Could it be?    

"Will?" Elizabeth's worried voice asked "Please Will."

I opened my eyes.