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Dearest Readers, though your paths may meander sometimes, may the ways remain pleasant and give you joys unexpected. :)
THE HIDDEN SWORD: A TALE OF BALDUR'S GATE
Book One : From the Earth | Chapter 10 : Meander
Draw. Strike. Sheathe. Rinse. Repeat. Just a few more. A few thousand times more in her mind.
But with the last, not the sound of iron and wood. A rumbling stomach.
Not steel flashing in the air, but a heaping plate of bacon, sausages, eggs, and bread rolls. What?
Irse scrambled out of the hammock, tangled briefly with the sheet before landing on the floor. Eyes still gritty with sleep, she rubbed her cheeks in an effort to waken herself fully. Faint light peeked under the doorway. Is it breakfast time yet?
It was still Mirtul but the rare gray skies and a drizzle greeted her outside. A brief internal debate whether to don a hooded cloak or not; decided then to wear one anyway to save the trouble of being lectured on by her Teacher about no one under heaven is immune to the cold and going back to their room to get hers. Biscuits and a swig of tea, and then the usual tasks.
It was all starting out again like any other day in the river.
As Nells pointed out, up ahead the Chionthar split into two distributaries - the western stream leading to the caravan city of Scornubel then through the Reaching Woods and an eventual northerly run to the Sunset Mountains. Instead they were taking the second stream which branched south down to Berdusk and Iriaebor.
At the first mate's instruction, Irse let down the sounding line. Two fathoms deep the mark had read, the fork deep enough to maneuver safely through despite the current season.
Puzzling. It didn't seem as if the river would ever run dry in the summer; why would Nells be so worried about the water level here?
As she coiled the line, her eyes caught an unmistakable glimmer of light along the left bank less than a mile away from them but still a few miles more before the river branched out. It flashed at evenly spaced intervals and the girl tapped the arm of the half-elf beside her.
Nells peered at the distance and sighed then turned to the captain, waving a hand. In response, Shar-Teel cussed and steered the boat to its port side. As she did, Irse went over to the helm, not so much to ask but simply to observe.
The captain suddenly grabbed the girl by the shoulder and roughly pulled the hood over her.
"Keep your head down and your mouth shut, you hear me?" Shar-Teel hissed with urgency.
Surprised yet in no mood to argue, the young elf nodded and gathered her cloak around her. Okami had climbed out of the cargo hold, perhaps becoming aware of the abrupt change in direction, and they exchanged curious glances. In silent obedience, the ship inched closer to the beacon and soon they touched by the bank.
A lone woman stood upon the shore, cloaked and hooded; lantern in her hand in spite of the daylight.
"Gangplank," Nells called out to the crew. Dotie and Okami worked together to let down both the anchor and ramp.
The woman climbed aboard, removed her cowl and cast aside the front of her cloak. Petite and of a shapely build, dark hair framing a beautiful face though a few lines had begun to appear, tanned skin indicating her origins from a country far south of the Coast.
Must be a – what was it, a Calishite or a Calimite? Irse remembered the Avowed using the first term formally, and the Watchers using the second one with a smirk, to refer to the occasional visitors who hailed from Calimshan to see the great Library in the north. Either way, they obviously meant the same people.
"You're late. I was beginning to think you had forgotten your part of the agreement," the woman complained, voice playful yet unmistakably cutting.
Nells apologized, "Sorry, Safana. We did leave the Gate ahead of schedule. But the winds were… neither contrary nor too favorable, and there had been a small accident. I hope you won't think we had any intention of backing out of this."
But the first mate's explanations were ignored as if the half-elf didn't even exist. Safana gave no acknowledgement and instead sauntered over to Shar-Teel.
"Ah, Captain! So pleased to see you again. I trust that your vessel is outfitted to provide the utmost comfort that I require," she said as her slender manicured fingers drummed on the helm.
"Would that I'd rather chain you to the prow all the way, you black-hearted bitch. How's that for comfort," Shar-Teel sassed but Safana simply laughed it off.
"Darling, one of the many things you can say to me, but can never do," she teased.
"Such a dreary piece of driftwood, I'd much prefer a gilded galleon. But as they say, business shouldn't be mixed with pleasure," the woman exhaled with a melodramatic sigh, looking around with a haughty air as if owning both ship and crew. Her eyes brightened as they alighted on Okami.
Safana sidled up to the blacksmith and ran a hand up his arm. "My! Perhaps I spoke too soon. New crew? A comely man at last, an exotic too..."
Irse's ear twitched at the flattery. Despite the captain's orders to keep cowled and bowed, she raised her head slightly to cast a secret disapproving glare at the newcomer. But the movement caught the woman's attention.
"And what's this? A young man?" she queried excitedly as she drew up to Irse and without invitation, pulled at the cowl, revealing the pointed ears.
"An elven lad!" Safana was practically giddy with anticipation. "Shar-Teel, I didn't expect you'd make good use of my gold to hire better company!"
Irse scrunched her shoulders and awkwardly held up a finger. "Actually… I'm a girl."
The woman's enthusiasm was replaced with disappointment.
"But it's all right. At least this time I look young and exactly like my age. Not an old woman pretending otherwise, right?"
Safana's disappointment changed into undisguised contempt. Wondering if she had said something insulting, for one never knew with other cultures, Irse glanced at the first mate and captain.
Nells was staring like someone had poked a sleeping dragon with a flaming battering ram in front of them while Shar-Teel was grinning as if said flaming battering ram had been shoved up the dragon's scaly behind.
With an affronted huff, Safana returned to the gangplank and whistled a shrill call towards the woods. On cue, the shrubbery parted and two men emerged, garbed in leather and armed. They were followed by a group of women with another pair of men who brought up the rear. Irse counted about fifteen girls in all. The eldest appeared little older than her, but there were a handful younger than Imoen.
As the women were herded into the ship, Okami motioned for Irse to stand behind him, his expression wary as he eyed Safana's escorts. These men were nothing like the sleazy types one imagined hanging around in taverns, but were every bit the hardened sellswords, grim and wasting no words as they led the girls down the cargo hold.
Th group most likely made the trek from Scornubel, the nearest settlement though still of considerable distance on foot. Visible distress and fear marked the older girls while the younger ones only seemed confused and sleepy. Who were they? Shipwrecked merchants? Field laborers? Orphans? Why all women and under guard?
The young elf looked up at her Teacher, but his grave eyes confirmed her worst guess.
Irse bit her lip as she felt her stomach churn.
But this time it was not with hunger.
Scrub. Scour. Rinse. Repeat. Defeat.
She had long accepted that no amount of rubbing and soaping would ever get this pot and the others to shine like the ones back at home, but as the great sages would have said it – we were all put on this world to try.
With more mouths to feed on board, the urgency of keeping the dishes clean, nay, spotless, had become pressing. And by mouths being fed in a civilized manner with dishes and cutlery, they meant Safana and her guards. Not the poor girls who had to be content with the near-stale bread in sacks, stored in the crates.
A shadow darkened the doorway to the galley.
"Such dedication to your work. Are the fair folk always so diligent and exacting even in the most menial of labors?"
The elf stiffened. Safana.
"I'm quite used to doing this, really."
A hand reached up and brushed aside a lock of hair from Irse's ear. The girl winced at the unexpected contact.
"So jumpy, like a newborn fawn. Never been touched, obviously." Safana leaned closer and whispered, "Don't be afraid. I'm not going to bite."
The young elf laughed nervously then resumed at scouring the pot.
Remembering the awkward encounter earlier, the girl had a flash of inspiration. Might not be bad to try and let Safana know that she was knowledgeable about their nation. Well, at least, knowing the name of their country, their great port and the fact they have, er, a huge desert somewhere there?
"So, ah, Lady Safana…"
She was answered with melodious laughter. "Darling girl, I may have been born to wealth and privilege, but I wouldn't call myself a noble lady in that sense. I am a self-made woman, my successes attained by my own hands, and wise in the ways of the world despite being… quite young in years. Only twenty-seven, you see."
Irse pursed her lips, fighting the urge to snigger. Twenty-seven, sure.
"Yes, I can see that too, Miss Safana. Say, you're a Calimite… from Calimshan, right?"
The air suddenly went still.
"What… did you just call me?" the woman snapped at her.
Irse stopped at her scrubbing. "Eh, a Calimite? Isn't that what you are? I mean, the color of your skin and hair, even your features and the shape of your face…"
But Safana didn't let the girl finish her explanation, and instead glowered at her before storming out of the galley in an angry huff.
The elf blinked several times and shrugged her shoulders.
'Guess the right word is "Calishite", after all.
"You called her a what?" Shar-Teel blurted, fighting to maintain the perpetual frown. Even Dotie, flabbergasted, had shed her usual scowl. The three of them were at the galley, captain and crewmate coming in for a drink of water as Irse was putting away the dishes.
"A Calimite? You know, someone from Calimshan. I was just trying to be friendly but then she got mad," Irse replied, utterly puzzled.
The woman and the dwarf looked at each other and suddenly doubled over in laughter.
"I don't get it. Calishite… Calimite... They sound the same and Calimite sounds closer to Calimshan!" Irse argued.
"Kid, you slept on books and wiped your squeaky-clean arse on parchments in your big Library house, but you really know nothing about real people outside," Shar-Teel snerked.
The elf crossed her arms and frowned. It was Dotie who finally enlightened her.
"In their land, their prized warhorses be named Calimites. That's why Calishites think it an insult when ye use it on 'em," the dwarf said.
"In other words, ye just called our generously vain employer a soddin' Horse-Face, genius!"
Irse's jaw dropped at the realization. But the captain clapped her on the back, unaffected by the offense at their sponsor.
"Were we in a tavern now, I'd buy you a drink. Damn, a whole keg too, just for that," Shar-Teel guffawed. After taking their fill of water, the two left Irse alone.
The elf scratched the back of her ear. Maybe she ought to apologize. It was fine with her to deliberately call someone names behind their back, like she did with some of the nosey monks at the Keep; but to unwittingly insult someone to their face when they were just trying to make conversation was another matter.
"Look, I'm going to do the right thing, all right?" the elf whispered at the ceiling in a preemptive declaration against an expected recall of her foster father's stern reminders about respecting people and other cultures.
She nodded to herself in approval and went outside to look for Safana.
She knew that the Calishite had taken residence in the Captain's quarters with Shar-Teel while Nells had moved out to bunk with Dotie. As Irse walked to the row of cabin doors, she wondered what they would be having for supper tonight, wondering too if she remembered seeing any of the men carrying what might be construed as additional provisions – meaning, something likely tastier than the crew's usual sad stew given their boss's penchant for finer things. Of course, that is, if Safana was still willing to share after what happened.
Oh boy, she really must get in the woman's good graces now.
Irse knocked twice, waited for an answer and went in. Only one hammock and a bed roll on the floor; shouldn't there be two? Is Safana making Shar-Teel sleep on the floor now? It took her a while to realize this was actually Dotie's room. The elf wrinkled her nose at her inattentiveness. She was about to head for the door when there was a slam and the tramping of boots from the other room – the captain's quarters on the other side. She looked up and saw that the partition likewise didn't reach up to the ceiling.
"I wish to make it clear we're not stopping at Berdusk. Not even for supplies. Too risky with the Harpers nesting there." Safana.
A gruff male voice replied, "Done."
"Check on the girls, see if they're all still breathing. One of them tried to kill herself last time, the poor fool. One less merchandise again and it'll cost me a piece of my cut. And I happen to need to make payments for a custom sapphire and platinum ring I'm having made at the jewelers."
The elf covered her mouth in shock at hearing the casual manner with which Safana had spoken.
"And on your way, call for the Kara-Turan. I want to ask him some… questions in private. Do not disturb us."
Irse pouted. What does that woman want with her Teacher now? Sword lessons too?
As soon as she heard the other door closed, the elf ran her hands across the wall. There! Tiptoeing a bit, she aligned an eye with the found hole.
Alone, Safana pulled out a worn palm-sized journal from her belt pouch. Scanning the pages, her mouth moving wordlessly, occasionally counting with her fingers, nodding with satisfaction.
A list of the girls and their buyers? Their price in gold scribbled next to their names?
Footsteps approached and there was a knock on the door. The woman hurriedly stuffed the journal into her pouch, tousled her hair about her shoulders, forcibly yanked the upper laces of her corset and the top buttons of her blouse. Maybe to give him a better view.
Irse pulled her face away from the wall, snorted quietly and rolled her eyes, then peered in again.
"Come in," Safana purred.
Okami stepped in and the guard outside closed the door for him. As instructed, Safana's escort complied with her desire for privacy as the sound of his footsteps became more muffled and distant.
"My presence was requested," Okami said.
"No need to be formal with me. Since we'll be traveling together for a while, I thought it productive to get to learn more about the latest addition to my crew."
"If you must know, I am a blacksmith journeying with my apprentice," her Teacher replied matter-of-factly.
"An elven girl instead of some peasant boy? An unusual choice but I'm intrigued. What would you be teaching her? Perhaps, you could… share the lessons with me as well? You'll find I'm a very eager student."
The elf cringed. Too bad they weren't in a smithy with a hammer within reach.
Safana edged up to the blacksmith; both hands rising, one to touch his neck and the other to lay flat at his chest. She pulled herself closer, smiling up at him as her hand moved from his chest down to the hilt of the katana at his side.
"Hmmm, I've never handled a blade like this before," she cooed as she commenced with caressing the hilt in deliberate, languid strokes. Still quiet and his face impassive, Okami's eyes remained fixed on her.
"Why don't you show me how hard and sharp it can be," Safana teased. With an inviting smile, she seized the hilt and tried to pull at it.
Hey! Irse inwardly screamed. That's not how!
First, you jerk off the guard with your thumb, then you pull!
As expected, the blade didn't budge, and the Calishite made a second attempt with more force but failed once more. Okami remained unmoving, merely looking at her.
"Well, then. I guess your sword needs… a little more coaxing," Safana conceded, losing her composure somewhat.
"But must we play around? These sailing hags do not see the man in their midst, but I do. Come, there is none to disturb us, I am yours for the taking," the woman urged, her hand still resting on his neck while the other now moved from the sword and slid over the top of his trousers.
Suddenly, Okami firmly gripped both of her wrists. Safana gasped, surprised. The blacksmith removed her hands from him and let go. Shocked, she stepped back and glared angrily at the man who dared to refuse her advances.
"If there is nothing else, I shall return to my duties." A curt nod of his head and he shifted one foot to turn away.
"That elf," Safana spat. "Do you know how much they'll pay for her kind? Especially one this young and..." She smiled with malice. "... Unspoiled?"
Okami paused. He leveled his eyes at Safana, left hand coming up to rest on the scabbard.
"Let this be the only and final warning you shall receive from me," he began, voice calm and low yet taking on a hard edge, grip tightening on the scabbard.
"Touch one hair on her head and this boat will sail, not on water, but in blood."
And with that, the blacksmith left the room.
Safana slammed a fist against the wall, grabbed at her hair and shrieked. Heaving, the woman finally calmed down and sat on one of the hammocks, muttering angrily in her native tongue as she laced up her corset.
Irse backed away from the wall, hand clasped over her mouth.
Likewise, the elf took a few deep breaths before quietly opening the door. Seeing nobody else around, she crept outside and with hurried steps, made her way to the deck.
She found him instead at the stern, alone and staring at the horizon.
"Teacher," she called to him.
Okami turned to look at her, smiling. The elf noted that his eyes expressed otherwise.
"Are you done with your tasks for today?"
Irse nodded. The blacksmith resumed gazing ahead of him.
"I must apologize…"
She held her breath.
"We may have to forgo our nightly lessons in the meantime. There is no space for them now, and I must exercise further diligence during the watch."
"I can join you. I don't need much sleep anyway."
"Good. I shall welcome that. Bring a blanket to make yourself comfortable when you do."
"Sure."
"And, Irse…?"
Her head perked up, expectant.
"May I… ask you to stay close to me? Until the end of this journey?"
The elf bit her lip. As much as she wanted to reassure him that she would be fine, would always be careful, for him not to worry too much…
"I will," she said, her response free of any question.
"And hey, I won't let you out of my sight. I promise!" she added brightly with the right palm raised, then blushed. "Except of course, when you're… uh, doing personal stuff, Teacher," she followed with a scratch at the back of her neck and an embarrassed cough.
Okami chuckled and said nothing more. Irse beamed, relieved to see him relax even just a bit.
They stood there for a while longer, observing the currents trailing behind the boat.
They both made their way to the deck. As the pair inspected the ropes securing the sails, Irse saw Safana step up at the helm. The Calishite exchanged a few hushed words with the captain before casting a glance at their direction.
She met the woman's gaze and the elf flinched at what she saw in Safana's eyes.
Pure hatred.
Irse knew then that she had made an enemy.