3 • Stormtossed! (part 1)
As Harry sat upon his sea chest that sat upon the pier which sat beside the galleon ship Seabird he came to realize he’d spent a great deal of his life waiting. That he should now be waiting for Pery to make an appearance at the boat was no surprise; it was, after all, his function to wait upon his mercurial master’s every want and need. He also came to notice he waited for great things and small: he waited for bath waters to heat, for important packages and missives to arrive, for an irate husband or jealous mistress to finally get lucky with a knife throw, for clean laundry to come when promised, for their idyll in this far-off land to inevitably end.
And, very deeply inside himself, he occasionally waited for acknowledgment of the waiting. One might pity him for his steadfast devotion to the whims and timing of others, but he also knew there was an art to it. A knack. Not everyone had the talent, the patience of spirit to properly wait for what was to come. His master certainly did not. So not everyone could be rewarded for their devotion by observing the remarkable sight of a beautifully petite young girl in a forest green velvet gown leading a bridled and saddled reindeer with daggered horns up to the boarding plank of the sea-going ship.
As she and her most unusual cargo approached closer he realized the dark-skinned beauty couldn’t possibly be a child. Her large golden eyes and pouty berry lips would be the envy of any high-born lady and the grace of her every movement marked her unmistakably as another of the Forest-born Folk. He rose to his feet and gave a small bow.
“You must be the lady Venka,” he said without question.
Venka and Quickstep stopped at the edge of the gangway and the elfin maiden cocked her head slightly to the side as she remembered Aroree’s sendings of last night. < Ah! You...are...Hahree? >
Though her speech was more hesitant, less smooth than Aroree’s and Aurek’s, he noticed her voice was as beautifully melodic. Somewhere between birdsong and summer breezes over sand. He wondered if he pulled his flute from his baggage now would he ever be able to match her effortless music.
“Yes, my lady, I’m Harry, your faithful servant. May I help you at all?” He gestured toward the stag and the bundle it carried.
She shook her head in way that he believed meant no and the black fall of hair behind her veils shimmered with the slight shake. Her mesmerizing eyes opened wider in question. < You go on ship? Paree too? >
“Well, that’s the plan.” He looked off toward the end of the pier where the wooden dock met the awakening Ironforge,. He still saw no sign of his master. When Harry last spied him before daybreak the minstrel had grabbed a handful of coins from the lute case and told him to meet him at the docks. That he had old debts to repay first.
That was nearly three hours ago and Harry hadn’t a clue where to begin searching for his wayward master. All he could do was trust in Pery’s innate ability to be where he said he’d be and do what he promised to do. But that never made the waiting a moment easier.
Venka noted the tightening around the human’s mouth and his large brown eyes and was reminded of how her dear friend Zhantee once worried so about absent ones. With her free hand she patted his arm.
< Your friend he come for you. You see. We be on boat all together. >
“Just wait til the Father of Memory hears about that! He won’t know whether to squawk or fly around in a tizzy.”
The maiden turned at the voice. “Two-Edge!” she cried in her own language. “I thought you might be late.”
“Never for you, Maiden.”
Harry gawked at the burly, imposing creature stumping toward them and began making a quick readjustment on the marvels of waiting for whatever comes. Never in his wildest imagining could he have envisioned anyone like Two-Edge. Though he had grown up with the tales and legends of the Master Smith as every child had. The sharp-eyed troll-elf greeted Venka with all the courtesy he himself had and spoke to her in the rapid birdsong of the elven speech. But the smith’s voice was more like a giant hawk capable of swooping down on a helpless human and rubbed against him as sandpaper grading off a top layer of skin. Edging closer to the collected baggage, Harry seriously hoped the smith would have no reason to regard him further.
As quick as a striking snake, the smith’s keen, feral gaze caught Harry in mid-step.
< Oh, no, little mump. No backing away now. You’re as much a piece of this gaudy menagerie as that twittering friend of yours. And may prove to be just as entertaining. The annoyance factor for the Eggshaper alone is worth the weight of the two of you. And speaking of his FlyHighness... >
To Harry’s relief the smith’s gaze released him and turned to the lightly-stepping pair approaching on the dock. The lady and her lord, dressed much as they were last evening and speaking softly, laughingly in their own tongue. The elf lord caught sight of the grouping and led the lady to it.
“Ah, tribe brother, you made it,” Aurek said. “And on time, as well. What a pleasant surprise.”
“Like surprises, do you?” Two-Edge smirked. “Just wait.”
Harry could in no way follow the rapid, chattering song of their voices. But when the golden-haired elf’s eyes widened at first catching sight of him and his baggage then rolled skyward with an exasperated sigh, he figured Aurek wasn’t exactly thrilled about being traveling companions.
“They’re worse than cats,” Aurek groaned. “Play with them once and they follow you everywhere.”
Aroree tsked, “Be kind. We all must fly whichever way the winds blow us in this world. If our courses run together for a spell, let’s wish for balmy breezes and thermal highs to ease and speed us on our way.”
“Again your wise words have eased my own way, tribemate.” Aurek took one of her hands in his. “So be it. If their presence pleases you then it pleases me.”
Two-Edge looked on the cozy scene as he took Quickstep’s reins in hand and started up the gangway. “I may be ill. Crazy, moonmisted, addlepated elf. Next she’ll have him inviting the human mumps to the birthing. You’d never catch me acting so fawn-eyed.”
Venka nodded sagely as she accompanied him up the ramp. “Of course not, master smith. Your steadfast eventemperedness is legendary.”
Aurek cast another frustrated glance at Harry, who was desperately trying to keep one of the ship’s hands from loading the bags piled at his feet. “I suppose it can’t be helped, High Ones protect us,” he said. “Come, Aroree. I don’t want to miss the sight of Two-Edge’s first impression on the crew of this vessel.” The elfin pair followed their companions up the gangplank as the Seabird’s human sailors gawked and ahhed over their newest passengers.
“Come on with ye, son,” Aldar, the ship’s first mate said to Harry. “Are ye coming aboard or aren’t ye? She’ll be setting sail in a tick.”
“Please, sir,” Harry pleaded without budging. “Just a moment or two more. Surely you can spare that?” He looked off again toward the end of the dock. He couldn’t imagine that Pery wouldn’t keep his word. Still, anything could have happened...
Just as a ship’s hand began lifting the gangplank a rickety mule cart started trudging up to the pier. On the driver’s side a slightly disheveled Medea clasped the mule’s reins with one hand as she held a red-faced Pery around the neck with the other arm and kissed him repeatedly.
Harry handed up the sea chest and the bags to the crew, his sudden grin threatening to split his face in half. “Now we can shove off, sir.”
“Oh, you must be very careful, my dearest minstrel,” Medea gasped between pecks. “Truly, ye are a bard and Threksh’t’s favored but anything can happen on the wide seas.”
Pery slipped from her grasp and from the cart seat to the ground. “No fears, Pet,” he laughed. “I’ve yet to meet the jellyfish or squid I couldn’t best in a fair fight. Though octopi are another story. They fight dirty.”
Medea slid to the ground as well and looked up at him with sad but steady eyes. “I know ye think me naught but a bit of silly fluff and nowhere near as learned as ye. Yet there are things the spirit kens that no amount of book learning can teach. And my heart knows that something dread and dark awaits ye. Just remember, this world is great and wide and unknowable and we are all so very small in it.”
Pery caressed her upraised chin with a finger. “You are wiser than your years, Medea girl, and I hear you. Now, dry those eyes and give us a smile and know that someday I’ll come back through here. After all, you’re my Ironforge Muse...where would my music be without you?”
“Sir?” Harry diffidently interrupted as he handed Pery his prized pipa case. “It’s time.”
Pery slung the case over his shoulder. “Good man! Sorry for keeping you waiting. But, you know how it goes sometimes.”
Harry climbed aboard the galleon. Oh, yes. Do I know...
Medea threw one last hug around the minstrel’s neck. “I won’t hold ye to coming back,” she sighed. “Just get where yer going to safe and well. And may Threksh’t keep ye and yer good Harry. Oh, no! He did find us after all!”
Pery glanced over the washerwoman’s shoulder and saw a lathered horse with an even harder panting rider galloping full speed toward them. Both rider and mount slid to a stop on the damp planks and the older but still spry townsman leaped down from his saddle. His face was a thundercloud that threatened to rain down hard on all present.
“You...you foul villain!” he yelled at Pery as he shook his horse whip in the minstrel’s face. “Haven’t ye besmirched my daughter enough today? Release her this instant I say!
“Oh, Poppa,” Medea said with an exasperated pout. “Ye’re the one who’s embarrassing everyone. Ye sound like some bad ancient scribe. Pery and me are naught but good friends.”
Pery did release her from his arms and turned toward the furious father. “Good Master Nowth! Never would I do anything to mar your daughter’s fine name in this town. Indeed, I only tried to enhance it. Surely even you must admit her most luminous assets are worthy of a song...each!”
Medea’s head turned with an embarrassed but pleased smirk. Her father’s face swelled a furious red as he reached for Pery with one fist as he raised his whip in the other, meaning to teach the cheeky bard a lesson in humility. Pery finally remembered the better part of valor and turned to run toward the boat.
“Sir, enough of your playing!” Harry huffed as he held on to the ship’s lines with one hand and held out the other to grab his master. “The boat’s under sail already.”
A bit of a tug-of-war ensued as Harry pulled on one end and Master Nowth on the other with Pery stretched in the middle. Inevitably the ship’s momentum gave Harry the advantage and he and Pery made a tumbling flip onto the Seabird’s deck as the vessel quickly pulled away from the docks in the busy harbor.
Aurek looked on the silly scene with a jaundice eye, wondering ‘what more can you expect from humans?’ while Aroree and Venka applauded Harry’s skillful catch and even the crew on deck laughed and kidded the pair about their acrobatics. Pery grinned from ear to ear with the adulation.
“Ah, Harry my man, always there with a helping hand. Despite its charms, am I ever glad to be rid of Ironforge. I feel lighter already for...” Pery’s smug words petered off as a horrified look slowly overcame his face. Harry feared his master had suffered some injury until the bard began frantically searching the deck around his feet.
“It’s not here! It’s gone!!!” Pery wailed, ashen-faced.
Harry truly began to grow frightened then, having never once seen his master come close to tears about anything that didn’t involve music. “Sir...?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
In answer, Pery swung slowly toward the swiftly retreating docks of Ironforge where a frantic, tearful Medea was pleading with her equally outraged father to not toss a dark leather case into the churning waters of the busy harbor.
“Two thousand years, Harry,” Pery brokenly gasped. “Before my father’s father’s father’s time it was the pride, the jewel of my house. How could I have been such a great fool to bring it? And now lose it, like this?” His hands grasped the ship railing hard and his head slumped between his defeated shoulders in deep shame.
Aurek looked on the scene again, at the ashen-faced young human who couldn’t be more horrified if his own child was about to be tossed to the waves. “High Ones,” he muttered, “fools seem to be in great supply today.” And his feet left the deck of the Seabird.
Quick as a wink, and in full view of the entirety of Ironforge’s bustling sea harbor, Aurek’s lean body wove and dived through a floating forest of upright ships’ masts, billowing sails and entangled riggings, dazzling the crowds with his own aerial acrobatics. Before either Nowth or Medea could give astonished gasps at the impossible sight Aurek hovered before the washerwoman’s father and plucked the case from his nerveless fingers.
< I am sorry, > Aurek explained. < And I know he brings these things upon himself. But it does belong to him and watching him mourn its loss for the next moon aboard ship will be utterly unbearable. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have a boat to catch. > With a flip backwards, Aurek was again hurtling toward the rapidly shrinking Seabird with the precious pipa case securely in hand, and leaving behind another legend of the forest folk that would be told around hearthfires for the next hundred years.
“Oh, Poppa,” Medea sighed with great unshed tears standing in her large brown eyes. “It be just like the story Grannie told of how one of the Folk swooped down and saved ye from the burning fire when ye were a wee babe. A miracle it was, she said. And to think they have chosen my own bard to watch over...”
Nowth’s mouth rose in a lopsided grin and he hugged his child tightly to his side. “Aye, my lass, it is a miracle at that.”
Father and daughter watched the ship until it was the merest white speck, and then, it disappeared over the clear blue horizon.
~*~
Less than two weeks out from the coast of Iceholt, Aurek the Immortal was convinced he was dying. Slowly. With each cresting salty spray and rolling stormy-blue surge he could sense his very lifeforce slipping away upon the ever-moving waters. He could feel his soft inner organs slosh against the bony cage of his chest in near-perfect rhythm with the slap of foamy waves against the Seabird’s stout hull. He could not think, could not hear, could barely stumble to the nearby water cask to wet his parched lips and throat. To only quickly return to a conveniently placed wooden bucket when even that small sustenance wouldn’t stay down. His existence was reduced to the cramped, dark ball he’d curled himself into in the tiny, airless cabin he shared with Two-Edge.
The human crew of the ship called his malaise, the dark magics that had laid him low, sea-sickness. And after the novelty of seeing the stunning creature who’d dazzled the Ironforge docks huddled into a shivering moaning heap, they tsked- tsked his sad condition and basically ignored him after that.
His dear friends Venka and Aroree, with near infinite patience, tried their gentle best to relieve his suffering, though the two elves themselves had little experience with such lingering illness. Neither maiden possessed a healer’s touch so Aurek, reluctantly but resolutely, steered the two toward the ship’s deck where the maidens quickly became favorites of the besotted crew and found their own ways to while away the voyage’s time.
His not-so-dear kinsmate Two-Edge, when not prowling the ship’s lower holds at night, would perch upon his own bunk and laugh uproariously at the Eggshaper’s tragic predicament.
“This happens every single time,” he mocked. “You’d think you would remember that, Memory’s Father. Why you ever step foot on a ship at all is beyond me.”
Aurek weakly tossed a limp arm over his eyes to block out even the wan light from the cabin’s one small port hole. “You think,” he gasped, “...if I had...bondbird...I’d put up...with this?”
“Ah, if wishes were wings, the whole world would fly. Better than you right now, I suspect.”
“Oh, go away, Two-Edge, if you don’t choose to help me.” Aurek slowly rolled toward the wooden wall and covered his head with a pillow.
The smith looked utterly startled and vulnerable for just a moment. Then he features settled into their usual mocking leer. “Oh, we’re all beyond help, elf. You’d do well to remember that, too. Where do you expect me to go? We’re on a boat in the middle of nowhere. And I’m no fish-shaper, like those web-fingered fools in Crest Point.”
“You can go and soak your fat head for all I care,” Aurek mumbled under his pillow.
Hollyhopper nodded from its perch above the elf’s bunk. “Yeah! Go soak fat dig-dig head Now!”
Two-Edge laughed and hopped down to the cabin floor. “No, I think I’ll stop by the galley first. You’re looking a bit peaked, Eggshaper. You need to fatten up and stuff yourself. I believe today’s menu is eggs freshly scrambled served with raw fish roe with a bowl of hot, runny porridge. Yum!” His mocking laughter followed him out the cabin door.
Aurek groaned and clutched his belly tighter.
Hollyhopper fluttered down to land on his pillow and patted the pale hand that clung to it. “Poor Eggshaper Highthing,” it sighed. “You go in wrapstuff now? You feel much better. You will, you will!” The sprite was the only one who had stayed with him through his entire ordeal so Aurek felt a special sense of obligation toward it.
“Sorry, little friend, I know you mean well, but I cannot.” Yes, he knew a sailing journey from Iceholt to Cathay was generally free of care. But he couldn’t bear the idea of leaving his charges unprotected should anything unfortunate happen. He could never awaken and remove himself from wrapstuff’s timeless sleep in time to be any use in an emergency. So he accepted as his fate to lay there in his dim, airless cabin and suffer and endure.
There was one visitor who brought a slight ray of hope to Aurek’s currently hopeless existence. Pery the minstrel had slipped down to his cabin one night after a boisterous evening of entertaining the ship’s crew with every bawdy shanty in his repertoire. The deck lads had repaid his tuning with gifts of grog and liquor from their own preciously hoarded stores, leaving the bard with a full wine sack and dangerously listing 20 degrees to starboard. Somehow he’d managed to stumble to Aurek’s door and offer what medicinal assistance he could.
“Here,” he said, thrusting the skin in front of the elf’s wan face. “Take a sip–or three–of this. Guaranteed to cure what ails you.” Mission completed, Pery slowly slid to his knees and dropped his head heavily onto the bunk’s covering.
Aurek uncorked the stopper and took a cautious sniff. The liquid held a sweet, smoky smell and the elf finally felt the first stirrings of an actual hunger that had been denied to him for weeks. He took a sip and felt the liquor burn a hot yet fulfilling trail down his throat. < What is this? > he managed to cough out.
“Rum, or, something I think they called it,” Pery murmured facedown into the sheets.
Aurek took a larger swallow and the liquid landed in his belly satisfactorily, warming him to his toes and fingertips within. < Mmm, sweet and hot, > he nodded as he sat up and leaned his head against the wooden wall. < Like cooked sugar. >
“I never really thanked you, Aurek,” Pery admitted, his face still turned away. “I could never go home again without it. I think it might actually mean more to my family than I do.”
Aurek drank some more as he finally began feeling actually good on this trip. < No mere object can mean more than kin, no matter how revered. >
“Oh, you don’t know my family. Or the things they revere.”
Aurek snorted loudly, almost rudely, at that. His huge, sharp eyes rolled upward toward the low oak ceiling of the cabin and his voice took on a muttering, sing-song chant. Part bird chatter, part sibilant snake’s hiss to Pery’s still-sensitive ears. He didn’t think he was so far gone into drink that he was now hearing everything muddled, so he replied with a incisive, “...Huh?”
< I said, ‘It’s as I always thought. Humans are fools.’ >
Pery chuckled. “I won’t completely deny that! Still, maybe it takes a fool to win her from you.”
< Who? > Aurek wondered, beginning to feel a bit muzzy-headed himself. < Ah, Aroree, you mean. You can try, I suppose, young fool. She might even let you. >
“I warn you, I mean for her to be my Muse. To inspire me, to raise my drab, mundane works to their highest peak. What’s say we make a fair trade, you and I: Kiti-Ping for Aroree. I’ve never met a creature so worthy, so beautiful. Why are you all so beautiful, Aurek? The lady Venka. Aroree my love...” Pery raised his head from the bed and stared bleary-eyed at Aurek.
“...You,” Pery whispered. “And even the master smith has his rough grace. I asked her once but she didn’t say. Why are you so wondrous to my eyes?”
Aurek gazed down at him. The elf’s blue eyes took on an otherworldly luster that hurt Pery to see.< “How can I answer that, as well? In all my days, and they are many, I’ve never understood why your kind reacts to us so. Either with utter adoration or implacable hatred. Yet, your own differences are not all so unbearable to our eyes, child. > He ran his long-fingered hand through the tousled waves of the bard’s dark hair. Pery’s eyelids drooped as his head came to rest against Aurek’s chest.
“Yes, I’m a prince among men. But, I won’t give up,” Pery murmured sleepily against him. The bard began to hum a slow, sweet lament as he drifted off into a deep, alcoholic rest.
“Little foolish one, I would never expect you to,” Aurek whispered with elvish sibilants into the darkness as he finished off the wine skin.
Hours later, Aurek heard a gentle tap at the door and Pery’s servant Harry ducked his head into the cabin.
“Ah, there he is. I’ve looked high and low for hours.” Harry entered the cabin quietly and picked up his softly snoring master in his arms with a grunt.
“I beg forgiveness for the intrusion, my lord. But sometimes, when he’s in his cups he becomes...unpredictable. Not that he ever really is predictable.”
Aurek muzzily roused himself a bit, missing the warmth that had lain against his side for half the night. < Nothing to forgive. Just see him to a good rest. >
“Aye, I will. For as long as it lasts.” Harry glanced at the empty skin. “Though, when he wakes he just might regret the night’s indulgences.”
< One more thing, Harry, > Aurek asked before the pair slipped out the door. < Who is Kiti-Ping? >
Harry looked surprised for a moment then smirked from the side of his mouth. “Why, Lady Kiti-Ping is Sir Pery’s wife, of course.”
Satisfied and fortified for the moment, Aurek slid back down into the drugged comfort of his bunk and vaguely hoped he too wouldn’t regret the coming day.
~*~
Aroree’s body thrummed with pure joy as she barely skimmed above the sea’s tossing waves, her hair and bodysuit damp with salty spray as she easily kept pace with one of the Seabird’s longboats. The ship’s superstitious fishing parties had taken a bit of a while to get used to the idea of a beautiful flying maiden who was capable of spearing or netting a full-grown mackerel as handily as one of the burly seamen. But being the practical sorts, they quickly enough caught on to the useful idea of a body capable of spotting a rich school of fish straight from the water’s surface. And her own innate charming grace and gleeful cheer in the hunt won their salty hearts to her as well as their minds.
To Aroree, the joy of the chase and hunt was partially what had kept her sane for so many turns of seasons. For all that she had been and may become in time, she was always first and foremost the skilled hunter and warrior. Those were the matchless talents that had won her place as one of Voll’s Chosen. Whether she used her skills for her people or these newly-befriended humans mattered little to her. That she could exercise them at all is what made her heart sing. That, and the resiliently strong tug that kept her connected to that small cabin tucked within the ship’s bowels. Enough time for that later, she reasoned. The hunt’s on now!
And what a hunt!