Ch 2 - Sea Tales
For a wartime ship, the Luna was surprisingly merry. There was music and dancing in the evening, when the sea was calm enough to permit. Lucy felt the crew must be trying extra hard to make her travel as enjoyable as possible, and she loved them for it. As the only female on board, she wore her feet out playing partner to each of the dancers. Only when Nalis intervened with his stern countenance did she find rest.
"You must go easy, my Queen," he said one evening as they stood at the starboard rail, looking on a weak sunset. "You may need your rest and strength more than you know, by the time our journey is over."
"If my exuberance can help these sailors find some happiness in wartime, then a sore foot is the least of my concerns," she said, but she surreptitiously removed said foot from its slipper to soothe it with a rub against her opposite ankle. Thank Aslan for long skirts.
The smoky-sweet scent of tobacco drifted toward her on the breeze. Presently, a large shadow passed over the rail.
Lucy turned to find Arrow stalking toward them. The griffin's wings were partly extended to help him balance against the ship's rocking. "Creatures of air were not meant for water," he grumped. His golden eyes narrowed to slits. "Neither were they meant to suffer the smell of burning plants as a form of enjoyment."
"I am glad you came," Lucy said. "I'm sorry you had to sacrifice some of your comforts to do it."
The griffin ruffled his feathers, looking mollified. "All in the name of Narnia, you know."
"Come!" called a voice. "Kamus is telling stories!"
Lucy turned to find a satyr waving them toward an old faun just settling himself on a cask on the main deck. She grinned at Nalis.
The old centaur nodded, then gestured to Arrow and Darius, who was approaching the main deck. "Go, Your Majesty. I must write letters."
Lucy joined the half-circle of sailors now arranging themselves around Kamus. "Tell the one about The Mermaid and the Satyr!" cried a young satyr.
"No, no. The tale of The Hedgehog's Quest!" said a hedgehog.
"What about The Wise Leopard?" asked a leopard.
"No," said Kamus, shifting on the cask to a more comfortable position. He puffed on his pipe for a moment, then nodded to Lucy as she sat on a crate. Watching her, he added, "I shall tell you of The Phoenix."
Silence rippled across the deck until only the wind and sea could be heard. Lucy felt a shiver and looked at the gathered crew. Their faces had grown suddenly grim. Some looked scared.
"That'll bring her on top of us," protested a pot-bellied old bear.
"Pish," said Kamus. "You ever seen her?"
The bear shook his head.
"I have," said Kamus.
A collective gasp erupted from the crew. Big-eyed, the bear took a step back from Kamus. "And-And you lived?"
"Sailors. Superstitious lot, you," said Kamus. He crossed his leg and rested his elbow on his knee. Pointing at the bear with his pipe, he added, "Mark me. A story won't bring The Phoenix. She comes and goes as she pleases, story or no story. You listen to what's known of her, from the only one ever to see her and escape. Might find the knowledge useful."
As reasonably as Kamus spoke, Lucy couldn't help a shiver. The crew's reaction would have been enough to unsettle her, but something in the old faun's voice provoked a chill of awe and fear that only her years of bravery in battle could have withstood. "Who is she?" Lucy asked.
"She's a ship, Your Majesty. Half again as big as the Luna, and twice as fast. I would not have believed her size, but I saw her. You've heard tell of pirates making off with Narnian vessels and all aboard them? The Phoenix is the most-feared of them all. In a flash of lightning, she's there, and just as sudden gone. I've seen her once, and hope never to have a second chance."
"Does she really smoke as she sails? Burning rigging and all?" squeaked a rabbit.
Kamus glared at the rabbit. "She sails as any normal ship might, with sails of cloth. Square-rigged she is, a brigantine, with as clean a line as ever you'd hope to see. If you ever see it. She runs at night, in storms, with no colors." He puffed on his pipe. "And the wind, this infernal wind, obeys her."
"A ship of the Witch?" gasped the rabbit.
"Shh!" cried a satyr beside the rabbit. The satyr glanced fearfully around, as if he thought referring to Jadis might bring the Witch here. Even Lucy sought the reassuring feel of the dagger strapped to her cordial case.
"She caught us out on the open sea as we made for Calormen," said Kamus. "A storm, as I said. Fast and furious she was, a demon of the water, flying at us full sail against the wind like it were nothing. She fired one warning shot only. The sea itself rose up against us, pushing us toward The Phoenix. We looked to be overtaken, but the crew panicked at sight of her. I fell overboard as The Phoenix captured us. Merfolk found me drifting after the storm and took me to an island where I could make my way home to Narnia. The others ... all lost, or vanished." Kamus's gaze found Lucy's, and he bowed his head. "It's that reason I agreed to come aboard with you, Your Majesty. If my knowledge may serve you, you're welcome to it."
Lucy nodded back, still disturbed by the image of a demon ship rising from the water. She cast an anxious glance at the eastern horizon. Selbaran was still weeks away. How could they expect to outrun a phantom to which the very wind would bow?