The sundering hours, p.18
The Sundering Hours, page 18
Caradoc nodded. “I’ll go along with that.”
Evering looked between them. “And barrelman? What’s that?”
“The one who sits in the crow’s nest,” Radburn answered. “Up there.”
As he pointed, everyone craned their necks towards the round platform near the top of the mainmast. It was so high up only part of it could be seen past the mass of rigging and sails. The color drained from Evering’s cheeks as he let slip a curse.
Skiff laughed. “Bless him, he’s gone as green as a grasshopper.”
Amos grinned, showing his crooked front tooth. “Don’t worry, mate. We’ll work you up to it over time.”
Margaret patted Evering on the shoulder. “Don’t think about that now. We’ve still got loads more positions to fill. Let’s focus on that. ‘Quartermaster’ is next. What’s that all about?”
“They’re the one who keeps order,” Jasper answered. “In charge of discipline and keeping everyone in line. Sort of like a chief constable, you might say.”
Margaret pursed her lips, as though trying hard not to smile, then shared a knowing look with Harriet, who wore a similar look of amusement. The feeling spread quickly, and one by one, all eyes fell upon the elder stateswoman of the group.
Delia’s mouth fell agape. “What, me? Chief constable? Oh, get a hold of yourself, Chester.”
The man had just burst into snorting laughter behind his hand. Ink couldn’t help but smile himself.
“All right,” she said, obviously ruffled. “I won’t deny that I favor a straightforward, no-nonsense approach to things. But it’s worked quite well for me these past fifty-nine years and someone had to take a firm hand at times!”
Harriet just managed to master her smile before replying. “It’s not an insult, Delia. We don’t mean to hurt your feelings. But the job description does rather suit you, as you’ve just admitted.”
Jeremy stepped closer. “I know I’ve never said as much before, but in all the time we’ve been together, I’ve always felt safer knowing you had an eye on things. Really, I don’t think we would have survived this long without you. And I think . . . if we’ve got any chance of making this work, of sailing this ship with a crew who’ve mostly never sailed before, it’ll only be because we’ve got you with us.”
“Well said, Jeremy,” Simon replied.
“Hear, hear,” Martin said with a nod.
Delia’s piqued expression softened with a quiver of her mouth. She put a fist on her hip and pointed a finger at Jeremy. “Look, Mr. Stockton. It’s been an emotional enough day without you reducing me to tears as well.”
He smiled. She gave him a quick embrace, then stepped back and nodded her assent.
“Very well. Quartermaster it is.”
Caradoc raised both eyebrows. “That also makes you third-in-command.”
“Oh, then I am definitely taking the job!” she said, throwing up her hands and inspiring a round of jolly laughter.
The rest of the duties were filled quickly. Simon would be the ship’s surgeon. Radburn was named the master gunner, as he had the most experience with weapons. Skiff’s particular brand of skills got her the title of ship’s carpenter. Harriet volunteered to be the ship’s steward and chief cook. Ink was to be the cabin boy—meaning he was at anyone’s disposal to help with any task required of him. Only a few months ago, he would have raised a much bigger fuss about such work, but as it was just the sort of thing he’d been doing since he fell in with the Colonists, he accepted the job with a shrug and kept his mouth shut. Jeremy volunteered to be the gunner’s mate, serving under Radburn, and Amos would be the master-at-arms under Quartermaster Delia, making him a sort of a sergeant constable.
“Well,” Margaret said, eyeing the list again. “I can help wherever I’m needed. But if you want an official title, you’d better put me down as the surgeon’s mate.” She turned and looked at Simon. “If that is agreeable to you, Mr. Elias.”
Simon turned a deep shade of red, then rubbed his brow to try and hide it. “Well, if . . . if you think that’s best. But it must be said . . . should anything unfortunate happen, it could get very messy.”
“Oh, that won’t bother me. I once pulled a piece of wood out of a man’s leg after his gambling partner broke a chair over him. Massive amounts of blood. Didn’t faze me in the least. Rather fascinating, actually.”
“Well, surgeon’s mate it is, then,” Daniel declared.
Chester snickered. Simon shot him a stern glare.
“I guess that just leaves me,” Jasper said. The crate he sat upon creaked as he shifted his heavy frame and glanced around with a self-conscious smile. “I’m afraid I don’t have any special skills. But I can do whatever jobs need doing. Particularly in the kitchen, ma’am, if you won’t mind having me around.”
“Of course not,” Harriet said. “You’re more than welcome.”
“And don’t believe what he says about not having any skills,” Daniel said. “This boy’s got the finest set of pipes I’ve ever heard in my life. He could earn his keep just by singing us all to sleep.”
“Oh, that’s excellent!” Chester cried. “We can have music every night! And sing great rollicking shanties while we work! It’ll be fantastic!”
“Wait!” Ink called out. “What about Seherene? She’s got to have something to do.”
The Entress had not said a word since the discussion began. She stood near, but not too near, content merely to observe. As soon as attention was called to her, fifteen pairs of eyes turned her way. Ink saw at once that she was embarrassed.
“Yes, of course,” Daniel replied. “I’m sorry, my lady, we didn’t mean to—”
“No, you don’t have to apologize. Please. I’m happy to do as I’m asked.”
“Is there any sort of work you’re inclined towards?” Margaret said.
“Yes, there is.”
The group’s attention returned to Caradoc, who leaned against the starboard gunwale.
“She was a wildlife biologist ten years back, and a damned good one. Traveled the country with a restoration team, looking after all manner of animals in different habitats.”
Evering looked at Seherene with a curious frown. “Is that true?”
She nodded. “It is.”
Radburn lifted both eyebrows. “It would certainly be useful having someone to care for all those animals down below.”
The Entress betrayed her eagerness with a smile. “I’d be more than happy to.”
“And if the need came for us to fish or hunt,” Martin said, “you could help with that as well?”
“I could. Yes.”
“Well, that’s perfect, then,” Daniel said. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Ink couldn’t believe his ears. Had the esteemed Lady Seherene really just volunteered to muck out the stalls, feed the chickens, and milk the cow? During their time together in Ciras, she had told him of her former career, but he’d never imagined her undertaking such menial chores. Had he not just witnessed her enthusiasm in the matter, he might have protested it, deemed it too harsh a punishment. But she was practically beaming, and it was then he realized the great kindness Caradoc had done her by making the suggestion.
“All right, I think that’s everything!” Daniel said. “If you will give the word, Captain, we can weigh anchor and begin our voyage.”
Grinning, Chester hooked his thumbs over his belt, sniffed, rolled back his shoulders and threw out his chest. “The word is given, crew! Go forth and . . . do what needs doing!”
Delia stepped closer to Caradoc. “And you’re sure he’s the best choice?”
“It’s only his first day. He’ll get the hang of it. Hopefully.”
Daniel instructed Amos and Jasper to work the capstan and raise the anchor. Caradoc and Jeremy returned to Riverfall once more to cast off the mooring lines, then drew in the gangplank behind them once they were aboard again. Skiff jumped down from her perch on the quarterdeck stairs and went to light more lanterns, knowing the dark fog would fill the deck as soon as Seherene’s shield enchantment was gone.
As the Chain Breaker began to drift out to sea, the Colonists instinctively drew towards the starboard side, keeping their eyes on Riverfall for as long as possible. Daniel took the helm, then asked the Entress to lower the shield. The others closed their coats and tightened their scarves, preparing for the wave of freezing air that was about to come sweeping over them. Ink pulled his top hat down until it covered most of his ears.
The next moment, the shield was gone, and sheets of icy fog billowed around them as though they were passing through clouds on a high mountain. Save for the sound of the water lapping against the hull and the creak of timbers, all was silent. Evering sniffed and rubbed at his bright red nose. A few others made the same sound. Ink wasn’t sure if it was an effect of the cold or their final parting from Riverfall. Probably both.
Her task done, Seherene turned and headed towards the companionway, pausing to speak to Caradoc in a low voice so as not to disturb the solemn quiet.
“I’ll make my way down now and see to the animals.”
“You don’t have to go.”
“It’s all right. It’s best. But we will be having a talk later about your career as a bandit chief.”
He smiled. “Fair enough.”
She briefly touched his arm. “See you later.”
He nodded. She moved to the stairs and disappeared to the lower decks.
Ink approached the gunwale and leaned an elbow on it, gazing out across the village. He looked at the ring of round houses, the garden grove, the remains of the broken tower, and tried to picture it as it had been.
Chester blew out a long, forlorn sigh. “You know . . . wherever we end up, we can always build new houses, plow new fields and all that. But we’ll never recreate that beautiful Cestriae wine of ours. Can’t take any of that good soil along. It’s a damn shame.”
“It is,” Jeremy said. “But maybe the next variety will be even better.”
Simon rested a hand on the gunwale beside Ink. “A part of me was beginning to believe we would all grow old there. We made things so good, I guess I got too comfortable.”
Delia tightened her shawl around her shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with being comfortable, so long as you can let it go when you should. When it’s time to move on. I am going to miss that beautiful harvest table, though. I know it wasn’t practical to keep, but I should’ve liked to at least find it a new home.”
“It’s here,” Martin said.
She looked at him in surprise. “What?”
“Sarah brought it below decks. It’s down in one of the holds with the Drifter.” He looked at Harriet. “Along with your piano.”
A smile brightened her eyes. “Really?”
“I didn’t know when or if we might find another one, so I asked for her help to move it.”
Ink had witnessed that conversation. The former executive banker had clearly been nervous to ask such a favor of the Entress, but it was needless anxiety. Seherene proved all too willing to assist the effort.
Harriet’s smile softened, and she nodded in appreciation. “Thank you.”
“She brought all the Plumsleys’ songbooks, too,” Ink said. “Carried ‘em by hand. Big, tall stacks in her arms, back and forth. She must’ve made ten trips doing that.”
A frown creased Margaret’s brow as she glanced around with a hesitant air. “I think it only fair to warn you all . . . she mentioned to me that the village is likely to sink.”
“What?” Evering said.
Delia brought a hand to her throat. “Oh no.”
“What do you mean?” Simon asked.
“I mean there is nothing holding Riverfall above water except enchantment. A big mass of rock and earth won’t stay afloat like a piece of driftwood. But she also said she would try to hold it as long as it was still in sight—for our sakes.”
“Won’t that be a terrible strain on her?” Harriet asked.
Margaret shrugged. “She didn’t seem to mind.”
They fell quiet again. Evering sank onto a barrel next to Ink.
“I hate to think of it sitting on the bottom of the bay,” he said. “All alone in this beastly part of the world.”
“It’s better that way,” Caradoc replied. “Then no one else can claim it. It will always be ours. She gave us all she could, and then some. It’s time to let her rest now.”
Chester drew a flask from inside his coat, unscrewed the top, and took a sip. “I’m reminded of something my father used to say. I didn’t like him very much, but he did have one catchy line. ‘The good thing about endings is that they can make for great beginnings.’”
As the ship floated further away, a second wall of fog passed over them, leaving everything damp as well as cold.
“Speaking of remembrances,” Evering said, “what about the Memory Tree? Obviously, we weren’t going to take it along, and it did get pretty well blasted in the explosion, but I couldn’t even find the piece with all the names carved on it.”
“Me and Skiff found it by the chicken coop,” Jeremy answered. “It wasn’t too badly damaged. She says she can make us something nice out of it, once Tompkins and Brannon’s names are added to the rest.”
The ship’s bell sounded behind them, signaling the start of the first watch at eight o’clock in the evening. Somewhere, high above the fog, the moon and stars were twinkling down. Ink wondered how far they would have to sail before they could catch sight of them again. He was also glad to see Seherene’s light orb still hanging over the village. There was comfort in knowing they wouldn’t be leaving it in complete darkness. The light itself even seemed a touch cheery, as though Riverfall was giving its own fond farewell, telling them not to worry and that everything would be all right.
As for the island of Fenmire, looming in the shadows just beyond, Ink hoped he would never see it again.
In another minute, it was difficult to see anything at all. The tower was swallowed in fog, followed by the grove and the last visible houses. The light of the enchantment dimmed. Delia wiped at her eye. Martin put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. She covered it with her own. The call of a gull pierced through the gloom from far away. Chester tugged at the lapels of his coat and began to softly sing. There was a tremor in his voice.
My fair young lass
I loved her well
Though now I’ve gone away
She’ll stay with me
And e’er shall be
A light as bright as day
A gust of wind pushed the ship deeper into the fog. Still they stood, watching until even the dark trees along the border were gone, and the village of Riverfall was seen no more.
Two hours later, with the animals comfortably settled and the area properly organized, Seherene went to the lanterns and doused all but one. As she unhooked it, preparing to take it back to the cabin she would share with Margaret, something brushed against her leg. She glanced down to find Oswald staring up at her. Smiling, she sat on the stool near the cow stall and stroked the cat’s long gray fur. He pushed his head into her hand, purring.
“He really likes you.”
The voice startled her and she rose to her feet. Jeremy stood in the doorway.
“I’m sorry,” he said, raising a hand. “I-I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
She scoffed at herself and shook her head. “That’s all right, Mr. Stockton. I don’t know why I’m so skittish.”
“You’re still uneasy. I understand. Um . . .”
He came forward, holding something out to her. It was the knife belt she had left behind on Fenmire after her fight with Pallaton. Two of the knives were missing.
“I wanted to give this back to you. Might come in handy again. Well . . . as you’re sticking with us now, it almost certainly will.” He ended with a small smile.
She accepted the belt and stared at it for a long moment before answering.
“Thank you. I have to admit I’m surprised you trust me with such a thing.”
He tugged on the front of his coat. “Well, I can’t speak for the others, of course, but . . . for me, you were always this distant shadow in the fog. It was easy to be frightened, and on our guard against you. But now the fog is gone. And what came out of it was no monster. Not even an enemy, against all odds.”
She dropped her gaze again as a tear welled in her eye. “That’s incredibly kind of you to say. Though I still can’t help but feel like one. I did more than enough to earn the title, after all. And I am . . . I am so terribly sorry about your brothers—”
“No,” he said, shaking his head and raising a hand again. “There’s nothing to apologize for. It was those Blue Flames who did it. Them and no one else. I’m sorry about your mother. Finding out the truth about her must have been a terrible shock.”
“It was. But the loss of my relationship with her has brought more relief than anything else, as well as clarity. What little grief remains is over what might have been. And what will never be.” She wiped at the corner of her eye and looked towards the nearest port hole. “Among so much else, I deeply regret the fate of Riverfall. You should not have been forced from your home. You’ve all said so many goodbyes already.”
Jeremy put his hands into his pockets. “I think that becomes true for everyone, sooner or later. The trick is to know how to handle it properly.”
She looked at him again. “How do you handle it?”
“Well, I always used to choose the wrong way myself. Went looking for strong drink, ‘cause it made the pain go away for a while.”
“But you don’t look for it any more?”
He shook his head. “I finally saw I was bringing most of the pain on myself, ‘cause I kept looking over my shoulder at the past. The worst parts, anyway. And then one day, I realized I didn’t have to look anymore. That it was all right to fix my sights on what was ahead.” He dipped his head, as if in apology. “You . . . don’t have to look back, neither.”
He glanced quickly at her face, as if to gauge whether or not he’d said the wrong thing. She tried to smile for his sake, but she wasn’t sure if he saw it. With another bow of his head, he turned back to the door.
