((Very sorry for the wait on this chapter! My hope is that it is worth the wait.))
Chapter 9: Madness at Bay
Black flag.
The sound of the whip ceased, men turned, eyes gazing out onto the horizon where a ship seemingly sat, hovering on the line between sea and sky. It was far from us just yet, but there was little doubt that it would catch us sooner or later. We had been severely crippled both in man power, food stores, and simple rent canvas and the like, besides our lack of water.
Many ships are at a disadvantage when it comes to outrunning sea-borne thievery. Their ships often are lighter, smaller, with larger sails, proving to outdistance any merchant frigate. And adding to that, the time spent learning how, and in what ways, one can easily follow another ship?
The silence stretched. We all, as one, peered into the distance, attempting to capture sight of the tell-tale black flag at the top. At more than a week from any land, there was little chance of not being overrun. They hadn't even tried to fool the watch. Instead, it seemed almost as if they had in mind a bit of a chase, just for the fun of it, perhaps.
The captain, obviously seeing no reason to go straight to panic quite yet, looped his whip about his elbow and wrist with a meditative gesture. Holding the nine tails loosely in his palm, he turned and I watched him hand the black coil over to the golden hands of the green eyed sailor before spitting on his palms and casually begin to scale the rigging.
It seemed almost a dream, the way he so calmly took the news. His arms moved like satin over water as he rolled from side to side, body weight swinging while he climbed languidly upwards. I watched him go the entire way, my face to the rising sun, until I could see him flip over the crow's ledge at the high point on the mast. Then I sighed, looking down at the still silent crew.
The lack of water, the death of crew members, the destruction of our poor limping ship. This was but another nail upon a coffin it seems we had been fated to fall into from the first. Not a man could have denied his sense of the inevitable. What mattered if we were gutted like pigs upon the blades of a pirate? It was a quicker death than the one we were up against. Nothing is worse to a man than dying from thirst. I have heard tale of it. And I have heard of those who have narrowly escaped it. And we were facing the very possibility of its truth in our own miserable lives.
Trowa went aft and stepped down into the hold door that led to where the crew slept. I do not know what he did with the whip, but I did not see it again, the rest of our voyage. Yet seeing him with it, reminded me of the man it had been used on. With a gasp, I left Wufei's side and quickly made my way to the place where Theo had been bound.
He was quiet, his eyes closed and his breathing coming in small gasps. Men around me, coming to as if from some deep slumber, broke from their places and went to help me. A dagger was passed at one point and with it, I cut his bindings. Then holding his head, myself and four other men, silently brought him to the Babe's Book, now empty of anything but the gold and tapestries left behind by Heero and myself. We had no time anymore for such frivolities as sleep and rest.
The men paused, obviously not having seen the inner bounds of the room, aghast at the furnishings.
"Come.. into this room," I prodded them verbally and guided them into my room, having them lay Theo upon my bunk.
"Didn't know it were so …" one of the men murmured but did not finish. I looked up at them and they were gazing both about my own room but more so at the room without.
"It is richly served," I acknowledged their awe and then stood, leaving Theo for a moment's time. "Go. There will be a call to move soon." I said it, but not a one of us believed it worth our effort, so that the men made their way because they were expected to. Not for sake of any sense of self-preservation.
After closing the door to the main room, I sank down beside Theo and took his hand, not knowing what else to do. His eyes opened and he looked at me, then gazed about the room with a groan.
"Here be where th'curse lies," he muttered so low I almost did not hear him.
"Yes," I agreed. "And it is the quietest place for you now."
"Don't wish ter be in sich'a place, really," he said, staring at me with eyes that saw his own death.
It frightened me and I pulled my hand away, curling it up against my chest in the cup of my other palm. I narrowed my eyes. "But you cannot move right now. There are other things happening." I wondered about telling him what plight we were in now and briefly considered keeping it from him. It would not serve him any good, would it?
In the end, however, I could not keep secrets from him. He saw through me as he had so often before, a trait that now I know had endeared him to me, as if he were some manner of man such as myself, able to read the minds and hearts of others.
"Other things?" he asked.
"A black flag has been sighted, from whence we have come. It follows us and does not hide itself."
He laughed then, weakly. "What reason have they ter hide? We kinna do much else ter outrun a worm eaten dory at th'moment, can we?"
He was right and I did not need to say otherwise.
"The captain?" Theo inquired.
"He's in the rigging, watching her approach yet." I hadn't heard his call yet to warn me of his having decided on orders.
"And the crew?"
I shrugged listlessly. "The ones that are alive," I put to him with a touch of spite in my voice, "are waiting their fate."
"Hunh," he grunted and closed his eyes.
"Wufei is cooking now," I said, wanting to give him some… hope? What a foolish thing, I realized it right after I had said it. "And Heero is not here any longer. He is out with the rest of the crew."
Theo was not fooled and he nodded slightly, wincing with the pain. "We've not enuff men ter sail. We'll be needin' them. T'was wise o'th captain."
"It makes a strange sort of sense, talking of the captain's wisdom when his madness has destroyed us," I could not contain my bitterness, yet had no one to direct it towards.
"Us too," Theo would not let his captain take all of the blame.
I sighed, nodding. "Yes, we as well."
"Has… has…" Theo ventured timidly, "he… returned?"
His eyes were closed so he did not see me shake my head. At my silence, his hand rose and he cracked open a gaze to me. I dare say my expression said more than words ever could have. No. The Oin Sa Marne hadn't returned. I'd hoped for his return and he hadn't. come back to me, to us. The luck of the Sea Folk had proved far greater than the luck in my hair. And the lack of it had hit us harder than either of us had supposed it might.
"Ah," he breathed sadly and closed his eyes once more.
I left him there, going to the upper deck where I watched the horizon and that foreign ship with the crew.
Some men leaned on the aft starboard rail, staring out over the waves. Others leaned out from the lower rigging, like strange monkeys, their long arms and legs curled around ropes and their tattered robing hooked around their waists falling back like broad flat tails, caught up around their knees.
I leaned against the main mast and looked up as many others did at the sight of the captain descending. He came down close enough to me so that I might have reached out and touched him. But he did not notice me. His eyes retained the feverish light that they had caught afire with during the whipping of Theo and his voice was low, an undercurrent that brought their hairs on my arms to attention and forced a chill into my spine.
"Won't let them take'm, damn'm.." he was saying, his eyes glittering as he swept a glance over his crew. "Damnable sea, we'll be taken to her bosom before I let them touch one hair on his head. He's mine, damn them.. he's mine, and there'll be no having him otherwise."
Men who overheard looked about and found Heero's figure against the sky, peering down over, his shoulders hunched as if something had occurred high over our heads. I have little doubt that up in that crow's nest, the makings of a tragedy we could not even consider possible at the time and which would come to fruition later in our journey had been set into motion.
The captain landed with his feet solid on the deck. "Now then!" he called out to us all. "To the ropes, men!"
While he sounded out solid and sane, there was no doubt in looking upon him that sanity had lost it's hold. He called to us from a calm which swept through us all and forced us into submission. We went about, obedient to his commands. We even worked hard for those commands. He could have been a man with his head to the gale, forging a way for us all, standing strong as he did, there at the wheel, with his maps and his navigational compass. And perhaps he was providing us a means to escape. It was this certainty that insanity brought to him which caused a new hope to be borne in the crew. Many felt he must know what they themselves did not.
Let it be said, however, that during that day, we sailed as we'd not sailed before. And I do not attribute that to hope, but to the power of our captain. And while we were at a distinct disadvantage, due to our lacks, we still remained a good deal ahead of the following ship. But as night began to fall and the captain locked his wheel so that he might again chart, there was no doubt as to our being captured by morning light.
Wufei served us dinner of hard biscuit and dried fish. Little of it was salted, but it was less so than the pork. Eggs were cooked into the fish and we ate better than we had for a long time. We hadn't much time left and still enough food for a week, there seemed little reason to waste it on thieves and pirates.
We all ate as one man, sitting on the deck, leaning against coils of rigging, barrels of food and supplies, and watching the light fail. The captain remained above us at the helm, like some watchful guardian. His braid danced freely on the breeze as a seperate part of him and he gripped the railing at times, leaning out with glass to look at our pursuers.
Then, with an order to turn out the lamps and plunge our ship to the dusky velvet of new night, we made for our beds. There was little we could do so late into the night and but for a few men who remained on watch, we all took to the underbellies before the blackness could close over us completely.
- - - - - - - - - - -
My room was in darkness, but for a sliver of moonlight which fell across my lap. I sat, propped against my chest of drawers, my hands clasping the shell of my now defunct midnight visitor. It, alone, was all that remained of that quieter time. I had been so exhausted that I did not even dream, nor did the far off dreams of the crew invade my slumber. Yet despite this, I woke easily at the touch on my arm.
Looking up and into the silver beams, I noted that Heero had an almost ghostly complexion. I thought I could see about him, something called sailor's fire, clinging to him. It rose off of his brow and shot in wild fantastic draping whorls about him like a halo of silver. It seemed some distant warning of what was to come; my heart leapt in fear for him and I reached out to touch him, reassure myself he was still alive.
He drew back from the light of the window, his eyes glancing at my hand as he did so with a look of loathing. I was not sure who he hated then, for it did not seem to me that I could sense it directed primarily at myself. Heero was one of the more guarded of men and I rarely was able to read from him anything but pain. What was beyond that pain remaining difficult to decipher.
"What?" I asked into the quiet, careful not to waken Theo.
His hand flashed in the light, a gesture to come. I rose, following him through the black of the rooms, tripping over what I think may have been a footstool, on my way out.
On the deck, Heero guided me toward the aft deck and pointed upward. Above us, at the helm, my green eyed sailor stood, his hands taut about the wooden bow of the wheel, his hair driven about by wind. He was beautiful, flashing like some precious ring or bracelet and I did not even think before I mounted to where he stood and came alongside him, drawn by his very need of me. It was glorious, being needed by one such as he.
I was close to him and had not given a second thought to Heero, who I did not even note the time he left. There were greater things to ponder. My sailor and his eyes keeping watch out toward the sea ahead. The sails clapped a gentle applause of his use of the winds and he seemingly did not even notice me. Perhaps, I came to think, it was all a dream. I might reach out and touch him and be along his side. My hands rose to take the wheel, wanting to slip between his arms and head our keel into some distant, glorious horizon, but he looked at me then and I was halted with that action alone.
"I need you to take the watch," he said. In the hovering shimmery darkness, his words sounded intimate as no other's words have since. "Keep an eye toward the north." He pointed upwards and my eye followed the aquatic line of his arm to where a star shone. "That heading," he added. Then, confident in my understanding his purpose, he went back to watching the sea ahead.
I could do nothing more than obey. And as I climbed into the rigging, I noted others coming from below decks, all bidden by Heero. They floated from the holds like wraiths, silent and awaiting orders. It felt uncommonly as if we were men, preparing for a war that not one of us could win.
And in the crow's nest, feeling as if more than just a simple heading were at risk, I refused to look down for a glimpse of him. I knew, had I done so, I would not have been able to watch the horizon, nor the star I kept to my view.
Behind us, I could see the soft light of a stern lantern, shining upon the water. The following ship remained still a goodly ways behind, but she was closing in and the night, due to the moon's low position at the far edge of the sky, was a ways yet into being. We had many hours of starlight yet to combat.
Or did we? Nothing happened for an hour, yet before us, it seemed we were running into haze. An uncommon fog rose upon the water and I lost track of my star as the last of the moonlight was swallowed by the tumbled cloud cover. Mist clung to my arms and legs and I shivered with the chill. Then, a quiet whisper in our rigging and as if an order had been given in a low voice, one which I could not hear from my vantage, I felt the ship underneath list and we tacked to the south.
Again, sails fluttered when they lost the wind and catching it again, filled with the soft gentle touch of our steady air. And we sailed on.
I, not knowing much of sailing, did not realize the strangeness of our actions, though now I understand. With the cover of the clouds, we had turned not only away from the path we'd been on, but also away from our trail toward Ulica. Of course, the storm had blown us somewhat off course to begin with. But Ulica still would have proved a far better direction to go than to head around the side of Moon Arle which was closer but had no safe ports on it's northern tip. We were heading almost due south, far from the heading of earlier, and proving to add a great deal of time to our already shortened voyage. And in the shape of our ship and our crew, it would do no more than put our pursuers off of our trail, who would have assumed we might take to the water some ten miles down and then change directions once more, making our way towards Kin's Isle perhaps.
Instead, we kept to the course we set. And with the haze drifting about us and the sound of rigging, I waited out the night until light had touched the sky so briefly that I could only see it's muted division upon the top of the haze.
I looked for my star, for the sky remained dark yet in that predawn. More so because of my orders and that they had finally come to be slightly visible. Near the heading of that star, far off, I noted a distant light that, when the sun rose, might have proven to be our pursuers, a good many miles off and to the side. But then, finding the star, I discovered directly underneath it, a place where the dusk-touched horizon did not quite match so well against the sky.
Tense with anticipation, I dropped through the rigging, somehow, not surprised to find men asleep along the deck, waiting orders to waken and leap to the sails. At the helm still, Trowa steered us straight.
"Trowa!" I called quietly, not having time to feel the perfection of his name. I clambered up alongside him and pointed toward that star, not hidden beneath the haze. "Land. There is something! I think it is land!"
He glanced down upon me, his eyes gleaming in the darkness and nodded, once. Then a low whistle broke from him and he jerked his head up to the rigging once more. "How close to the star? Right or left?"
"All but directly under. It is merely a finger's breadth to the right perhaps." I could barely contain my excitement, hearing men rising from the decking behind, the soft whisper of canvas and wind.
"Heero," Trowa said softly, his voice carrying despite it's quiet. Heero rose out of the shadow beyond the green eyed man like a blade slim ghost and waited. "Tacking north by north-east. Waken the men." Then he looked again to me and I prepared to do his bidding, every single part of me singing with the joy of having pleased him, knowing that this must please him. "Take the nest once more, Yoedian Arl," he said and I spun from him, diving upwards into the world of ropes, buoyed with an imagined sense of tenderness that I swore I heard in his speech as he gave voice to my name.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Dawn found us within reach of a small island. Its lush forests roamed down to the edges of great, volcanic cliffs and here and there, in one of many protected bays, the gleam of sand could be seen. The tack we rode kept the island between ourselves and where I imagined the ship of thieves to be.
Under the direction of Trowa and a good deal of sea-luck, we followed the coast at a dangerously close distance, until we saw a place where the cliffs dove down but were broken on either side. Tumbling into the water almost vertically, the cliffs, as we found by sending men in a long boat, went deep and it created a small pocket against the island's side where we might anchor the ship.
Men drew oars out and put to, half of us within the ship, while another ten of the men kept to the long boat. Using sounding lines, they directed the ship through and into the small cut in the cliffs. There, we anchored safely to wait the day out in a pocket of basalt out of sight of both land and sea.
Men remained on the decks during that longest of days, watching the sea tumble past on its way to the hidden shore. We were unable to see the island from where we sat, surrounded on three sides by high, black rock. The sun beat down here and reflected off of the walls above our heads. Many of us could do no more than lay in shade or quietly mend canvas. All of us wanted nothing more than to go into one of the long boats and make our way to the green foliage which we could not see, and there, find water. But the captain's insanity did not yet make room for poor judgment. He was wary of pursuit and thus we were to remain until it turned to eventide.
Thankfully, evening did draw near and the remaining long boats were filled with empty casks for water as well as various hunting implements for finding wild game, for replenishing our mast hoard, and other necessary tasks. Then all but Theo, Wufei, Heero, and a guard set to the three of them, were loaded into the boats and we made our way around the cliff side and into the bay beyond. It was a calm bay and we quickly made our way to the glistening silver shore.There, we shoved the boats up to where the undergrowth was nearest the shore and laid our goods out under the shade of the wood.
The first matter of business was the finding of water. This task proved easily done, for there was a stream which erupted from a small break in the trees and we all drank our fill. Then we set ourselves in a heap between water and forest. The captain sent water back to the ship and two men with orders to give water and to return in the morning for food. As for the rest of us, we slept the night with the wild just within our reach and did not concern ourselves with eating now that our bodies were filled with water.
The following day consisted of refilling the casks and taking them to the ship. A small group of men went up into the woods to both hunt and to find a high place from which they might see if we still were pursued. It was likely, that by the heading of the other boat, they had passed our small island without even seeing it. The haze had not burned off of the water for a good many hours after day break, the day before then. But still, we needed to be certain.
The rest of us went to work chopping down another set of masts as well as setting snares and gathering fruit and broad leaves from the plants there. There was not much those of us native to the sea were unaccustomed to. This was our world, the world of the Sea Folk, and we knew every plant that grew there, many of us having been raised on much of the produce of the wood as children.
One would think that I was relieved at leaving the ship behind. And while it is true I did find some measure of relief, it was but a measure. The joy of the men was as overwhelming as their despair had been. They were not blind to the ranging of their captain, like a lion with a broken jaw, hungry and malnourished, he paced between the lines of our work, on the outside almost right within himself, yet his eyes blazed and one didn't need my senses to know how he was no longer the man they had begun their journey with.
For me that feeling was far worse. The captain's mad quest for what he sought followed me, biting my heels like hounds, swarming at my face like gnats. It was maddening in itself, by the nature of itself. I had only to be within eyesight of him and his dull and red tortured mind would leave gaping wounds upon my sensibilities. I tired quickly due to the strain and at more than one occasion looked toward the forest with longing. Had I been home, I would have sought the peace within those trees and I would not have returned until my heart was my own again.
Yet, at home, I could tramp across hillocks and be at ease. Here my way was the accursed ship floating in the bay. I was bound to it by my desire to see my fields and the faces of those I loved once again. Madness would be my way and I was driven to hold to my self and shield as I could in ways I'd never needed to before.
Perhaps it was my purported luck, though I do not think so now that time has passed, the team which had gone to find us food came back with their hands full yet with no news whatsoever. They dropped their bounty upon the sands and it was a goodly one. Beasts both large and small had been captured, some alive and some dead, depending on the means of my people and by the wisdoms of others. Our sands became a roiling mass of mankind and animal stench. Fires were begun now that afternoon was upon us, and dry wood which would not smoke was used to begin a cooking for the bodies of some of the catch. But their lack of information angered the captain and he shouted for another crew to go and do better at the task.
Trowa, the silent sailor of my haphazard dreaming, chose the men, pointing them out across the sands to a large, darkened skinned Halidian man whom I recall as having a name such as Fin or Shark or some such sea-like name. Only because I was taking note of Trowa did I notice myself being chosen as well and I went obediently to where men congregated.
"Th' first mate says yer luck," the sailor said to me with an eye upon me as if he were not altogether certain of the truth of it. But I could not blame him his view of me. I had brought nothing with me to save our voyage and if anything, the voyage had become far more ill fated than before I was found. Therefore, I did not respond, merely inclined my head.
Taking this as a positive, the man narrowed his eyes at me, looking my slight form over and my pinched mouth. I had not eaten yet as had none of his team that were chosen. "Best keep up," he groused and picking up his bundles and his weapons, called out to us all.
We were a group of five when we entered the forest. And we found our leader to not be as cruel as our captain. He allowed us to stop when we found food and over the next few hours we took in small bites here and there of berries, mushrooms, roots, and other items that one or the other of us would recognize. A nest of eggs was enough for each of us to have one and helped greatly.
I think also, that he was chosen appropriately for time and again, he'd have myself or another of the men scale the great trees and look out to make note of where the great cliff our ship hid within was. He would take no chance of getting turned around and losing our way either to the middle of the island or back. He often shouted out landmarks for us to all take note of.
While we came across much life, game and otherwise, we did not forage. It was not our duty at the moment. Rather we scaled the edge of the island in an attempt to make it to the top of a tri peak we could see above us. Unsure of how large the island was, of how many hills we might have to climb, we took it easily, never once pushing beyond the slowest of our company which belied his earlier comments to me for I was often this one whom the others waited on.
Still, the sun was late from noon when we came out of the trees and looked down upon the sea from the depths of a cleared place along the side of the right most peak. Here a landslide had made for a clearing and treetops were too far below to stop our seeing. He took a glass and checked the sea, finding nothing. Then he split us up into three groups, two groups of two, and myself. The other two groups were sent around either side of the peak to try to walk the ridge to the middle mount and the other to walk to the other side of our current peak. I was to climb to the top of the one we were on and look about at the top, see if we were clear upon the other side. Though it was stated rather blithely, that it was just as likely I would not see anything but another mountain or my sight would be hampered by the expanse of land.
I had no glass with me but there had only been one glass to begin with. It was not a complaint I could make. And I did not expect that a far off ship would be of any concern to us anyway. I was to look for something closer.
Walking up a mountain is not an easy task, as any who have done so can attest to. It was more difficult for me in that while I had had water and had fed some, I was still weak from the ordeal of the last week. My body struggled against this new task, like and yet so unlike the quick bursts of energy required to scale rigging. Though, while climbing, I found it amusing to realize that while I was worn and felt terribly doing the task, I was also far more able than I'd ever been before in my life.
I have always been of a slight stature. I had come to believe, along with my family and my people, that my slenderness was a result of my lack of strength. Feeling that it was my lot in life to never be a strong man, I had never truly chosen to do anything to further my physical abilities and instead, had gone toward the more genteel pursuits; those of writing, riding, music, poetry, sciences.
Thus a walk such as this, under the duress I had truly been under, would have been inconceivable to me only months before. Yet here I did it, albeit with a great deal of difficulty, yet with a steadiness that came of more than simply will power.
The top of the peak being bare, the last twenty five feet of climb was up a steep cliff. I labored to the top and there, bent over a flat rock and then lay upon my back, feeling the rush of accomplishment run through me. Exhilarated, I laughed then. My head back and my mouth open, I practically screamed mirth to the skies in much the heathenish way that those from New Hartlin would expect of me. The laughter, hysterical I dare say, mixed with tears and above the sea and the rest of the world, fully alone for the first time in weeks, I wept into my arms.
Then, weeping will not last and it was not yet sundown when I rose to do my work. I stood upon the rock I had soaked with tears and looked about me. Beyond, I could see where the cliffs dove into the sea, the secluded cove we had hidden within. Certain that I had seen the pirate's ship to the north, I turned then to look about what ocean I could spy from my vantage point.
It was quiet where I stood with only the wind as my companion. I can say that much. I also saw no sails nor flags nor signs of others on the waters. Granted, it had been a full day and our pursuers had a vast sea to search. With the haze, it is quite possible that the position of the island was lost to their sight. Or that they had chosen then to hide and look for our flight path. Still, without glass, I could not see anything of import with the naked eye and feeling I'd done my job to satisfaction, I sat and instead, enjoyed the silence.
It is that silence I recall even now. There was a freshness to it, a clarity it brought. Upon that rock, above the world, I could see further than ever before. By this I do not mean in sight, but in mind. I had begun to lose my perspective upon that ship. There, with the world at my feet, all seemed so far from me. My home, New Hartlin, the ship.
One thing felt certain, beyond the truth of self that I had unwittingly been struggling with without knowing. That was the lack of luck or unluck for this voyage. We, each of us, were creating it. I had so long known better than to live my life based on superstition. There was a reasonable explanation, though it be touched at the edges by mysticism, for all of my experiences heretofore. I had only to accept it or inspect it, then to move on.
I cannot say now why that thought seemed so new to me. I had long been a student of philosophies and logic. Yet somehow, during my stay at New Hartlin and then later, my internment upon the ship, I had begun to forget. And now that I had clarity, I chose to go back over my experiences.
It is true that the voyage was ill-fated. I could believe that. Yet atop that mountain, I attributed this to the cruelty of the sea and the madness of our captain. The crew were but men, striving to make do without certain direction. I was not quite certain then how I might have come to protect myself from the now rampant insanity that lay atop the captain's mind. It was but a week, possibly two, before we met up with the islands. And then I decided that protection might not be necessary. Nor was it something I had any control over. The captain ruled our lives on the waves. Granted, I could run there, on that island. I was no fool. I could have easily lost myself in the forests and lived a happy, though lonely existence.
When we arrived however, I was resolved to do what I could for Wufei. I did not think then that there was any chances I could go unnoticed and unknown. I had not been gone so long and my family had a great deal of influence upon the other islands. Our produce often kept the sailing ships upon the waters and all of my family were almost as recognizable as the higher families. In a large market, I knew I'd see someone I knew and then be able to contrive a means to become free. It was, in my mind, a logical short time before I was with my family again. Therefore, upon my freedom, I would need to discover means to free Wufei and Heero if he would have come with me.
Yet in that air, the wind brushing across the back of my neck, I realized what I had not wished to believe. Heero loved his master, so much that he had at some time, agreed to the pain and horrors of his place upon that ship. The mark on his chest made him impossible to purchase and it was very likely that his fate was far more sour a one than mine or Wufei's. No matter the matter, he would always belong to our captain, always belong to Duo Maxwell.
I daydreamed for a pace, thinking of the myriad of scenarios in which I would free Wufei and at times, ways that I might have come to place Heero as well. A sanitarium might have helped Duo, if I were lucky enough. His family was a little known one which I was sure came from a farther island for I had never come in contact with a Maxwell shipping family. Perhaps his father had not the funds to aid his son in healing his mind.
Unwittingly, however, my mind eventually left the childish notes of dreams to ponder the shape I had seen across the window. The Sea Folk. This was not something I could quite make fit logically into my world. I was uncertain that I could have come up with an excuse of how someone or why a man would make his way from outside the ship to my window, climb in, and proceed to help me with my dreams. There was no dismissing the fact that the arms of that unknown man worked as a buffer and a protection against the pain and agony and broken dreamings of those filling the ship with me. As there was also no dismissing the fact the lack of those arms had almost brought about my own madness.
I was not certain, however, that I could completely accept the reality of a sea borne people from which we all, as the folk, had raised. Yet, even then, I wondered that my ability to see into the minds of men would not seem magical to the New Hartlins, had they been aware of it. Truly my Therese had found it fascinating. But then, she had been a woman with a deeply open mind and more than willing to accept many a thing she could not explain. Whereas I had always expected an explanation and had I never had the ability, would have scoffed it into nonexistence without further proof.
I had no conviictions that I could laugh away the presence of something which had been visiting my room, in much the same way I could not put from me the small white shell I kept upon my dressing table in the china dish there.
Putting aside the thoughts of that which I would never understand, I made my way down the side of the cliff, finding a safer passage on the other side of the pinnacle. There, I made my way about until I found I could see the great rock from which we had left, the landmark which was pointed out to me. From there, I made my way toward the clearing and after having almost passed it, found it with the others waiting on me. Not a one of us had seen anything but water and convinced that by the next morning, we would be free to take on the seas again, we began our trek back.
My short time upon the mountain had worked wonders. I look back and attribute it to that sea wind though my mother now wonders it is not a reaffirmation of choice that did it. Returning down the mountain, I only knew that I felt more free and stronger in my self. I carefully focused on the world around me and less on the swirling emotions of the party I was with. And I found I could somewhat block them from myself. I did not think this ability would continue when I returned to the main ship. The purity of dread and anger and fear and twisted, hateful love were too great for me to fight against. But for then, during that walk and our hunting on our way during the coming dusk, I felt at ease for the first time in a long while and believed that perhaps the winds were changing. We might very well return to the islands with no more great tragedies. The Weaver knew, we had had our share already.
If I had only known then that the greatest tragedy was yet to come, perhaps I would never have returned. But not knowing as I do now, I was of a cheerful mind, making way back to the camp.
Chapter 10:
((Sailing home. All is well. But Heero and Wufei remain aboard. It is only a matter of time until all hell very conveniently breaks loose.))
((I have to admit to having had this chapter half done for some time. Writing seems to come in small moments of inspiration of late. So forgive me for all the time in between! I'm still working on it! Slow and steady, I suppose works better than the rush of before where all of the world fell away? Though I'd do it if I were able.
Thank you all so much for your dedication to this story! I'm amazed at the amount of people who are willing to read my writings. I'm certainly enjoying the ability to put stories to paper and to have the drive to finish them!
I've not forgotten Texas Soul (nor any other story, for that matter). That third chapter is much like this story, coming along in fits and starts (over a year, you ask? L). I've just today thought of an idea of where I'm going as I had kind of put myself into a corner with chapter two.
And on to the reviews. Yay for you reviewers! You're truly an inspiration. When I'm trying to get up the impulse to write, I need only read reviews and I'm there! Thank you thank you thank you! I can't say thank you enough!
: Oh Trowa does seem cold and distant! I agree. He's always been a bit of a different character and while I can't say that this kind of behavior is true to the story, I can say that I'm trying my best to allow him the chance to make Quatre chase after him and let him know for certain that he's needed. : ) Can't help that, can we?
Golden Rat: I'm so glad you do like the writing! I have to admit that it's a bit tedious (the writing style) at times to write (which I'm sure makes it tedious to read!), but then, I remind myself it's an experiment, so I'm glad that someone is enjoying it, despite the effort it takes to read! Yay! Thank you for your faithful reviewing! You'd never believe how nice it is to have the same names show up! Gives me a huge smile.
Dentelle-noir: Thank you SO much! Wow.. I hadn't noticed that habit of mine, but now that you speak of it, it's cropping up all over the place. I'll certainly work on it! Reminder to self: Specifics! Grah! Specifics! Hee hee. I love the constructive criticism. Even better, the constructive criticism where I can see clearly what is being criticized. Heh. I'm sure there's a psychological masters thesis in there somewhere but I don't think I want to go there.
Sabby: It is so marvelous to have someone on the ride with me. Reading along while I write it. I can't tell you how neat that feels! And yes! Another ship, but I didn't go into the pie-rats. I hope that wasn't a let down! Or too much of one. But don't worry. I've got some terrible things to come, I promise! Quatre is not out of the woods just yet (or is that waves?) nor is he safely home. Hee hee. Maybe I'll have to throw some pirates into the story that is hopefully 1x2, after Quat's story ends. We shall see. I'm open to suggestion, considering I've no idea what's going to happen there just yet. Oh! And about the skull thing! I just learned something last week about pirate flags. They were different! Like one pirate had a flag of himself sharing a drink with a skeleton, another had a skull and two muskets under it, and on and on. Reminds me of designer punk-goth clothing. They're all somewhat the same, but they're all so darned individual. Kinda neat that the pirates would have their own distinctive style. I think that is so cool.
Harlequin Temptation: Two months later! Oh my goodness. I am amazed at the break on this. Thank you so very much for reading this! And yes. I actually have not left the story behind and have all of the chapters in one folder, some with ideas in them, some empty - but with an overview of what will happen. The story is "done" in a manner of speaking so I think I've no true excuse for not finishing it. It will be DONE! Yay!
And that's all for now, everyone! I'll see you next chapter! Until then, good luck with studies and families and the upcoming winter and all of that marvelous stuff happening in your lives! And Happy American Thanksgiving! Eat Turkey and Pie! And not necessarily in that order.
Memme))
