Volume 2, Part XXIV: Fables
It was almost deathly silent compared to the ruckus earlier; it couldn't be much past midnight, but she could still see the dark shapes wandering the rigging and leaning against the rail, as the night crew posted watch around the ship.
"'Ey, lad!" A voice called down from the crows nest. "Git up 'ere, ye've got te see this!"
Torio craned her neck back, frowning slightly as she eyed the shadowy shape hundreds of feet above her. Get up there? "I don't climb!" she shouted back.
A second shadow materialized beside Torio, a thin but muscular sailor with a large golden hoop around his ear. He jabbed Torio sharply in the shoulders. "Jacob, me boy, a lad who don't climb? What are ye, a mama's boy? Hop aboard the good ship Davey and I'll be takin' ye up." The sailor crouched down for Torio to climb on his back. "Hang on well, lad. It be a long drop otherwise."
Torio swallowed hard. She bent, and hooked her arms around "the good ship Davey's" neck, and before she knew it the man seemed to simply grab the rigging and practically fly upwards. Her arms tightened around his neck, and she heard a reciprocating retort..."Not so 'ard, lad! Ye want us both te drop?" The man's arms and legs moved with such liquid speed that it seemed he barely touched the rope rungs before moving upwards to the next.
A pair of hands gripped the back of her collar and she was hoisted up over the edge of the crow's nest, her feet dropping onto the small wooden platform with a thunk! A short, squat sailor grinned at her, revealing gapped teeth. His eyes were inordinately clear, lacking the yellow-brown stains that hinted at overt rum consumption, and he narrowed them at her now, as they spoke. "If yer goin' te be on this ship, apprentice, ye might as well make yerself useful." Davey was propped up at the edge of the crow's nest, his elbows hooked over the edge, watching them in amusement. Entertainment seems to be a little lacking on the night watch.
"Look," said the man, turning her and pointing towards the north seas. She narrowed her eyes, and then gasped...Icepeak Mountain was visible on the horizon, a faint, white mark, and behind it she could see how the waters clustered around smaller, white dots...the Sea of Moving Ice. In the sky were faint flashes, brilliant greens and faded pinks that danced behind Icepeak Mountain and faded into nothingness. She watched, openmouthed, as the display rippled on the horizon, faint and far away, but unutterably beautiful.
She was surprised to realize that she had never seen it before...and that even her sharp, educated mind had no fathoming of what it could be. "What is it?" she asked.
The short squat sailor squinted into the distance. "They be sayin' there be an ancient prismatic dragon who, once while the lass was in human form, fell in love with a young sailing lad. He returned her favors and they spent many a-happy years together - him sailing the high seas of the North, her caring for their babes with him aboard the ship. But then as mortal boys are wont to do, he grew old and passed from this world."
The sailor turned and faced Torio, "Well, the lass, her heart be totally broken by the lad's death so she lay down and died right there. I supposin' the gods be merciful on their love, so they took her essence and painted the skies over the northerly seas, tellin' her that if she used her lights to guide wayward ships home, she could join him forever in the next life." He lowered his voice. "They say if ye go past the Icepeaks, ye can see a ghostly ship sailing with a lad and his lass. They also say if ye can catch up to their ship, the lass'll allow ye and yer lover to be joined fore'er in the next life, never tastin' the separation of death. As stories are told, the lights be part of a portal to the heavens."
The sailor looked back over the horizon, his expression wistful. "Always wanted to sail up there, I did. But me lass left me first." He paused and then shook his head, embarrassed. "Bah! Stories by bards - who knows if they be true, eh?"
Torio listened, slightly spellbound; the story smacked of crass romanticism and was more likely than not complete fable. But the man's voice was rich and deep, and he painted a picture in her head of a pale, shimmering woman and her sailor, drifting endlessly through the cold, icy waters of the north...
Davey's voice cut through the short silence. "Bah, Nobbs, ye t'ain't got it right." The taller man leaned into the Crow's nest, pointing his finger so that it nearly touched the tip of her nose. "I hear tell it's a bridge, what which lost souls travel back and forth 'tween this world and the next; and if ye've lost someone dear te ye, ye can travel there and meet them on the ice as their soul travels through. But!" The finger wagged in her face. "If ye get there too late, and the lights disappear before ye reach the meetin' point, ye'll be trapped there forever, frozen and left to drift on the sea. That's where those ice blocks come from; they're the poor souls what missed their meetin', and they float aimlessly, hopin' to catch another glimpse o' their loved ones when the lights come down again."
Torio slid her hands into her pockets, her fingers suddenly cold. She tried to imagine floating forever in frigid water, her soul trapped in ice...she shivered and Davey laughed. "What, I think I've scared the poor lad, Nobbs."
Nobbs scowled a bit at the man and then replied, "Mind yer mouth, Davey. Wouldn't want to be giving the young'un nightmares. In any case, lad, tales tell that those lights be involved with the dead and the souls of those ye love, somehow. Few brave the travels there; even fewer return - whether they be trapped in their icy deaths, or find life beyond or just get pulled down to the deep, we simple folk will ne'er know."
He laughed sonorously and then continued scanning the waters, and then pointed down. "There, lad, see? Glowing fish." Swimming, gliding along the ship silently, they could see schools of luminescent green fish; the occasional creature would leap from the waters, its scales flashing in the moonlight before splashing back down. "These seas be full of creatures. I swears on me grandpappy's grave I even saw a dragon turtle once. And be wary o' the merfolk; many a good deck hand have gone o'er board for one of them pretty lasses."
He turned to Torio. "So Davey and me have shared our stories, lad. Ye got any to keep an old salt entertained?"
Torio felt both pairs of eyes on her, and swallowed. Think.. She knew her share of myths and legends, and cleared her throat, one particular story sticking out in her mind...
"There's a legend in Kara-Tur..." she paused for a moment; Nobbs was still watching her expectantly but Davey looked mildly confused. "In the east," she clarified. "On the other side of the world. There was once a demi-god who ruled over the skies, named Susanuo. They said he could take on the form of a great serpent, and call lightning and thunder at his whim, but that he was cast out of the heavens because of his quick temper and intractability." She realized suddenly that she wasn't really speaking the way a young mage's apprentice would talk, but the two sailors didn't seem to notice; they were watching her closely, hardly even blinking.
"Susanuo wandered the earth as a mortal, trying to earn his way back into the heavens. He came upon an eight-headed dragon that was terrorizing the countryside; the beast was demanding sacrifices from every village he came in contact with, and Susanuo seized the opportunity." Torio lowered her voice dramatically. "With the help of the villagers, Susanuo prepared eight large bottles of rice wine and crept up one night in the form of the serpent while the dragon was preparing to devour one of his sacrifices, a village maiden of incredible beauty. Susanuo's quick tongue persuaded the dragon to drink heavily from the wine as a prelude to his meal, and the creature was lulled into a deep slumber...Susanuo changed into his human form, and as the dragon slept, he struck!" Torio leapt forward, swinging an imaginary sword towards Davey's neck; the man made a gulping noise. Nobbs was grinning at her. "One, two, three...he cut off every single head, and destroyed the creature so swiftly and without risking a single human life, that the gods had mercy on him and welcomed him back into the heavens."
"And the lass?" Davey's eyes were wide.
Torio smirked at him. "How do you think the gods knew what he had done? She was the godess Kushinada, and rewarded Susanuo personally by marrying him." Her mouth twitched wryly as she glanced up into the sky. "There...look, you can barely see it, but down by the southern horizon." She pointed at a small clustering of stars. "The gods allowed them both into the heavens, and there they sit. The eight headed dragon Susanuo slew is below them, but you can't see it in the sky here."
Torio felt oddly calm, relaxed; she wasn't a storyteller by a long shot, but she felt strangely content sifting through the knowledge in her head and sharing it. Even if the story was most likely completely fabricated.
Nobbs clapped his hands. "A worthy tale! I won't be recallin' their fancy names but I'll remember the tale. When we sail to the warmer seas of the south, I'll be sure to keep a steady eye for yer 8 headed beastie." He chuckled. "Yer Master lets you stay up late, boy. He seems a goodly fellow, kind to ye at the very least."
He rummaged through a small bag besides him a moment and then handed her a piece of dried pork, before pulling out a scratched up spyglass. "Quiet night, lads. Even the wind is dyin' down. The seas be asleep." He scanned the horizons and then offered the spyglass to Torio. "Have a gander, lad."
Torio took the spyglass, and discreetly wiped it on her tunic. "My master..." She lifted the glass to her eye, smiling slightly. She seemed to have an affinity for "serving" mages. "He's very kind to me," she said quietly, peering through the scope curiously. She scanned the horizon; the night was clear and she could see a few strange, dark shapes against the sky, marking the scattered islands that dotted the Sea of Swords. She turned slowly, absently scanning the waters; she caught the white, sharply pointed shape of Icepeak in the glass, and for a moment she almost swore she could see the dark shadow of a sail passing in front of it, the northern lights dancing merrily in the sky...
She pulled the glass from her eye quickly and passed it back to Nobbs, feeling the blood drain from her face. Just a story. She said, quickly, "I suppose it is late...I should be getting back down to the deck."
Davey grinned, "Ah, ye be a mama's boy indeed. Hop aboard again, I'll be settling ye on the deck." The sailor helped Torio climb from the crow's nest, to the ropes and then onto his back. He began climbing down, going so fast that he seemed to be practically falling down to the deck; but his sure hands never missed a rope.
His feet hit the wood with a muffled thud and he dropped Torio back down. " 'ey now lad, if ere ye be wanting to visit old Nobbs or me up top, just holla'." He gave Torio a solid punch on the arm before he walked away, whistling.
Torio staggered slightly when her feet touched the deck once more, but merely nodded at Davey as the man numbly shot back up the robes, his shape becoming a mere shadow against the sails as he took up his post again. She brushed down her clothing, turning...and then Carmen's voice floated towards her through the darkness, and she saw his hunched shape in the doorway.
Old Carmen was standing in the doorway leading down below deck. "Would yer Master be wanting a nightly drink b'fer bed, 'lad' ?"
She remembered his sharp gaze on her when she had slipped from the chow hall. Torio approached him cautiously, her voice hushed. "He's asleep already; but I could bring him something, I suppose, for when he wakes up." She stood in front of him, his hook catching a sliver of moonlight and sending a gleam reflecting back into his face; he was old and wizened and his beard looked as matted as a crow's nest, but he was eyeing her shrewdly.
Torio felt her shoulders slump slightly in mute resignation, but she merely crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared up at him. "Is it that obvious?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Old Carmen smiled kindly at Torio when she owned up to it. "Yes to some - but c'mon to the galley; we'll talk where there be no prying eyes or ears." He led her back to the small chow hall and closed the crooked door. The fire in the cooking pit was low and he shoved some mulled wine into her hands. "Wine fer the lady."
The cook leaned back in his chair, analysing her a moment. "Lass, I 'ave spent o'er 50 years aboard a ship or some other; ye think I wouldn't know it when a woman walked the decks? Yer walk's too light, dainty girl. And ye didn't hide these..." He tapped her hips smartly but gently with his hook. "Ye shake it when ye move. Ye've got a woman's shape through and through."
Old Carmen twisted the tip of his gray-white beard and continued, "No fear though, lass. Those that know won't be saying a word, as they be hatin' Luskan with their mighty black 'earts and those that don't know be too loaded to the canons to figger ye out. The men and their Cap'n be of the honorable types, they'll lay their life down to protect a lady."
The galley was warm and almost too small for two people, but she gratefully took the mug of wine between her hands and swallowed a mouthful; the taste wasn't too terrible, and it heated her from the inside out. She leaned against something...(a barrel?) and looked at him squarely. "I suppose I owe you and your crew thanks for your discretion," she said lightly, her mouth twisting in a wry smile. Spending years perfecting a sultry, swaying walk probably would prove something of a disadvantage when she suddenly had to play a boy.
The cook gave her another intelligent look. "So ye be the lass, eh?"
She would have to be a dullard to not know what he meant. Torio took another drink before answering again, swirling the wine in her mouth as if it were some fine vintage instead of spiced and warmed table wine. "I suppose I am," she said quietly. Her eyes narrowed sharply, her heart suddenly thudding in her chest. "What...exactly did he tell you?"
Old Carmen laughed, "Oy, I be teasin' the lad. Looked like he needed a friendly ear, he did - them wizardly types be one fer bottlin' up their feelings til they burst. But he spoke well of ye, lass. Implied ye were the only one in his heart, he did, ya right prickly gal."
He stood and went to the hanging netting with the oranges and pulled one from it. He sat back down on the rickety chair and speared the orange on his hook before he began peeling it. "He cares about ya, he does. Old Carmen told him to follow ye at all cost, lass, so if he be takin' me advice, ye can thank me later by sendin' me oranges. But only if ye be feelin' the same about him; men can be foolhardy foolish with wimminfolk."
Torio felt her cheeks flush insensibly. She felt a slightly giddy wave of pleasure rush through her...only one in his heart... She coughed quickly, running a hand through her unruly hair. "I'll make sure you get those oranges," she said, chuckling lightly. She watched in mild fascination as the large, rather ungainly looking hook seemed to make short work of the orange peel in a dexterous and almost dainty fashion. "Quite handy with that, aren't you?"
Old Carmen waved his hook at her. "Lost me hand in a battle with a mad baboon in the depths of the Chultan jungle ere one unfortunate trip south when I was a fresh faced lad of yesteryears. When they be saying 'Don't pet the monkey', lass...heed their advice and don't pet him." The old cook snickered a moment and then stuffed a slice of the orange in his mouth. "And like all men, he be appreciating yer...ale cups, as he put it."
She felt the blush deepen slightly at the mention of "ale cups." She'd heard more blatant comments made on her physique before, but she was inordinately pleased and slightly embarrassed that Sand found her body worth a notable mention, despite his protestations that he only truly cared for her mind. "I'll...remember to thank him for being so appreciative, I suppose." Torio drank another swallow of wine, feeling a steady warmth suffusing her skin. "Hmmm...I think both of us are rather skilled at bottling up feelings, as you put it." She frowned into her mug, then glanced up at him, her eyes amused. "What do you think I should do with him, Master cook?"
He offered her a piece of orange before taking another piece into his mouth, winking jovially at her. "Aye, ye 'thank' him and then tell yer man to send me oranges in thanks. A sailing man can ne'er have too many oranges. And don't give me none of that 'what should I be doin' with him' filth. If ye love him, let him follow ye and if ye don't, cut the lad loose, bleedin' 'eart and all. T'aint fair otherwise." He pointed his hook at her. "But fer his sake and all our sakes, I be hoping ye love him cause we've got no need fer more of them elfy pining types. They got long lives but longer memories, those pointy-eared bastards."
Torio took the orange slice gratefully; it was sweet and cool in her mouth, and a nice alternative to the hot, somewhat tasteless stew she had half-eaten at dinner. Bleeding heart and all. All right, so she knew she loved him, although it generally took torture, truth serums, and epically powerful spell-casting to get her to admit it. She couldn't see Sand maudlin and pining either...sharper, maybe. Colder. The lines on his face running a bit harder, his tongue cutting a little deeper. The image was almost more unbearable than Sand wailing his grief to the winds.
"No, I won't leave him pining," she said quietly, focusing rather intensely on her mug of wine; the cup was almost empty, and so she tossed it back, emptying its contents down her throat. She smiled at the cook slightly. "Anything to avoid a morose elf on your ship, sir."
Old Carmen nodded, "Aye good to hear it, lass. If yer lad be acting like a lovesick guppy, he'll be of no use when the danger be coming - and I've no use for the useless." His eyes held a kind, amused light as he poured a second mug of the wine. "So go make yerself useful, lass - give him this here wine to warm him. And get sleep yerself; the dawn rises early on the seas. Another day and a bit and ye'll be home."
Torio took the mug of wine and affected a courtly bow, which was rather impressive considering the cramped space. "Have a good night, milord." Her voice was wry, but she smiled at the old cook in bemusement before she turned and slipped from the cabin, shutting the door quietly behind her. She made her way down the small hall below decks and stepped into the Captain's quarters.
Sand was just as she had left him, sprawled limply against the bed. Torio crept towards the table and set the wine cup down carefully, then made her way over to him. The bed sank slightly as she lay out next to him, slipping her arms around him lightly. He was breathing steadily, and the slight movements of his chest, combined with the creaking of the ship around her, finally lulled her into an exhausted sleep.