A/N: Another section, because I may as well. Bit more of the story. A shorter section, indeed—not a chapter, I warn.
I was packed and in the carriage on the way to my old haunt by the next afternoon. Clara bid me a fond farewell. She knew perfectly well that if all went well, she wouldn't see me for seasons, but unlike the sailors' wives I had seen as a dibbun, she never shed a tear. I held tightly onto the earliest prototype of my invention despite its weight, and I carried with me new plans, revised after my incident with the ink.
I suppose I could have been dismayed by Clara's obvious lack of concern, but such was just her way. Perhaps she thought, deep in her heart, that I'd fail and return to her by the closing of the month.
Such was not the case, sad to say.
I arrived in a small town at the end of the day, and the carriage driver said he would take me no more until the next day. My bones ached from hours of jolts from the bad road, and I was glad to know I had a soft bed waiting. It would still be hours until I slept, the night only just having fallen. The warm inn was attached to a fair-sized tavern on the ground floor. I had eaten the sandwich Clara packed for my trip earlier and my stomach begged me to order a meal.
A busty mouse maid in a rather skimpy dress leaned on my table, giving me full view of her cleavage. I looked away best as I could and spoke from the corner of my mouth as she asked for my order. She seemed disappointed in me, and a different waitress brought me my food moments later. The new girl was much more modest, wearing a dress that covered her skinny form more appropriately than the other. She was actually much prettier than the mouse maid, and I almost wished she were the one who flaunted herself.
I thanked her for the food, and tipped her best I could, before letting my eyes drift around the room.
A dartboard in one corner was surrounded in tall, jeering men. They all seemed to shout at one especially tall hare as he proceeded to knock away all opposition with a perfect aim.
"Wot's the matter, you bloody mouse? Can't take it from an old hare?" I could hear his voice all the way across the tavern. "Hey, you! Little fellow! Care to challenge the Great Aubrey Ausberry?" He chortled deeply at his title, and flung back his short cloak of cheap purple fabric, beaded with bright glass on the hem. I tried to hide my face, and eat my food delicately, but the hare bounded over on long legs and dragged me onto my feet. "So, wot'll it be?"
I grumbled, but took a feathered dart from his paw and stepped up to the line, rubbed clean into the dirty floor from many paws.
Ausberry grinned stupidly as I flung the dart carelessly towards the board. I didn't even bother to watch it hit. I'd played the game often as a boy, and by my personal count, I'd never actually lost, even to the foreign children who were more skilled than my dock slave friends.
I returned to my potatoes as I heard the gasp of the makeshift audience. I almost let myself smile. Ausberry rushed to my side, his comical eyes wide with alarm.
"Mate, I've never seen a dart-flinger so flipping flingy!" He said jokingly, taking his large paw and wrapping it around my own, which became engulfed. "Good show, lad."
"Thank you," I said slowly, not knowing the proper response.
"I say—by your accent, I'd assume you were from the northern coast, am I correct?" Ausberry looked me over, and turned my paw so he could better see it. "Not very tough, though. Not a dock-worker, eh?" I pulled my paw away and let it drop to my side. How to answer? What to say? I thought for a moment.
"I grew up in Fortune Port," I admitted. "But I was born north of the channel. I was never a worker, more of a scholar, really. I'm on my way back--"
"On your way back to Fortune? Well, so am I, lad! And such a perfect match you are for our crew. We're out to hire a ship to the New World…" Ausberry trailed off when he saw my face. "What is it, lad? And I've not learned your name yet, I'm afraid."
"I was going to Fortune to get a ship," I answered. "Possibly from this Jacques Mithermay fellow. Not for the New World, though."
"Really now? Mithermay? Never heard of him!" My heart jumped in delight. Imagine being stuck at sea with a character like this! I was such a jumpy fool. I felt silly and I thought perhaps I should give up and return home. I knew, however, that Clara would give me the look when I returned empty handed. She'd scowl silently, and I'd be miserable for days. It was always the same.
"I've really got to be going," I sighed, breaking away from the hare. "It was a long day."
I escaped to my clean room, and flopped down on the feather bed fully clothed. I didn't bother undressing or even getting under the covers, and I was soon asleep. My dreams were tormented by idiotic dilemmas. I thought back to Adeline, so long ago. I wanted to see her smile, and to play tag with her on the wharf. But then I saw Clara. Stern, intelligent, calm Clara. My childhood fun was torn apart by Clara, and I saw Adeline drift away into the distance. I hoped to all that was good and holy that I'd somehow see Adeline when I returned to Fortune Port. I had never told Clara about the young marten girl, two seasons my junior and my greatest friend. I couldn't tell her the broad story without telling her the details and of how Adeline and I had kissed once, in the hull of a small craft during the night. We were not there dishonestly, but indeed we were trying to help the owner unload some crates. The hull had been emptied, and we returned once more to check and be sure. The absent minded captain had locked us in, and we spent a topsy-turvy night in the vile-smelling chamber. I had been tired, nodding off, when Adeline woke me and asked if she could try something. I nodded, thinking that perhaps clever Adeline would manage to get us out. Instead, I felt her soft lips press against mine, gently, cautiously, and then left swiftly.
"Excuse me," she had said lightly, straightening her skirt as she blushed crimson. I had excused her hastily.
Just look! The townsfolk had cried as we walked together. A marten and a mouse? Such a strange pairing!
I dreamt of that stuffy night in the ship as well. It was a splendid memory, I always thought. Adeline was such a tomboy as a little girl, and then to see her feel feminine emotions was truly remarkable. If I had been a few seasons younger, I'd have bragged about it to the other little boys, but I was not and I heeded my dear Adeline when she begged me not to.
It wasn't such a long time ago that I left, was it? Now that I think back, I looked upon Adeline that final time only four seasons before.
She had cried when the carriage took me away.
Clara never cried.