Chapter 7: Wonder
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“but that is not what swords are made for,” The crew chimed in, completing their captain’s sentence before dispersing to undertake their various duties. Sha watched a deckhand hauling, moving to the call of the sea. Amidst the bustle he felt like an outsider, still trying to fit in. Despite his desire to belong signs of bonding through hardship, hard work and strife were everywhere. Lost in his pondering, he awoke to find that they were sailing into the light of a rising sun. The thought of Marlo’s grumpy façade reminded him of duty, and he hurried below decks to find direction from an ill-tempered spectacled giant.
Without sparing
time for elaboration Marlo had requested that Sha do a sheet, line, and rigging
check, which he guessed consisted of checking the ship and its accompaniments
for cracks, tears, and wear. Such checks were normally done well before casting
of, clearly the request was Marlo’s way of familiarising him with the ship. Nevertheless,
he intended to do a thorough job, his legs taking him over, across and through
the Beauty and all that she hid beneath her impressive boards. He was uplifted
when his task took him into the hold, it was fast becoming his favourite place
on the ship. It housed all the normal stuff like water and food stores. It was
also more importantly to Sha, Marlo’s workshop, where you could be surrounded
in the not-so-normal kite sail, aqua sail, and, of course, his favourite invention, the
interchangeable masts. If a new mast was required, a series of winches and
pulleys helped it go through specially designed portholes at the bow and stern
of the ship. His inspection of them produced an untoward scuffing noise, which
emanated from one of Marlo’s prototypes, a hollow mast. After drawing his blade, Sha banged it lightly upon the mast tube and was quickly rewarded by the sight
of a pair of small feet. Before long he was face to face with Morgan’s
daughter, her frown displaying an alarming level of sulkiness. “You could have
burst my ear drums,” Piper announced grumpily.
Sha sheathed, covering his embarrassment
with a light-hearted remark, “You better come with me, your mum will make me
walk the plank if you don’t.”
Piper’s expression changed before his eyes,
her sweet smile sending a warning into his being, “Let’s talk about this, shall
we. Why don’t you just turn back around and pretend that you didn’t see me?”
Railside, Sha was
happily enjoying a well-earned rest, pondering upon the fact that his week had so
far consisted of moments of rewardingly hard work, marked by bouts of tiredness,
and feeling underappreciated. Thankfully, he was finally getting the hang of
things. Marlo had ordered him to, “GET OUT OF MY SIGHT,” Which to Sha meant that
his teacher was getting frustrated by the exasperating task of trying to
explain a complex idea more than once. The sun was now warming his impressively
tanned skin, memories of his first week as a crew member aboard the Beauty
brought a whimsical smile to his cracked lips. On the first day, he had
escorted Piper, and her readily available profanities, to Morgan’s office. To his
surprise, after a memorable discussion that could be heard through countless
walls the child had been allowed to stay, the inference being that if the ship were to turn around, she would have hopped onto the next one; Apparently, Rena wasn’t
enjoyable to live with. As a punishment, Piper was given his cabin boy
responsibilities. The child quickly making it clear that she wasn’t happy with
him. Finding his tools around the ship was not the only drawback, Sha had, on
more than one occasion, found himself sliding around the deck: the cause strategically
placed puddles. His first week as Marlo’s apprentice was mentally and
physically exhausting; Marlo was easily the most intelligent person he had ever
met. Sha spent most of his time learning, when the lessons had started, the flow
of information was like trying to grasp water in open palms, now with every passing
day more liquid filled a closed palm. The subject matter moved from engineering, to alchemy, and sometimes bordered on what Sha felt was undoubtedly magic,
mostly because it was hard to comprehend. Thankfully, Marlo mostly put up with his
many questions, his sense of accomplishment growing daily. Sha relished seeing
the look of pride upon Marlo’s face when he grasped a complex concept. Such moments
brought more questions and wonder; on occasion Marlo needed a break from his untiring
questions. To add to Sha’s exhaustion, the Beauty wasn’t run like an undisciplined
pirate ship, it was way closer to a navy vessel, complete with regular drills
and training in combat skills. He often felt like he was back in the King’s
Guard, minus someone yelling at him, unless on the odd occasion Marlo was at the
wheel. On the second day at sea, Sha had turned around to find that Meena was inches
from his face, he had frozen in shock after releasing an undignified squeal,
her chilling words coupled with a demented smile, “I will rip your balls off
with my teeth and feed them to the sharks if you ever hurt her.” Meena left him, stepping away as if nothing was amiss. When Sha wasn’t busy, he found
himself pondering upon the uncertain state of his relationship with Morgan. He
had tried to speak to her on more than one occasion, only to be interrupted or
moved on by duty. It should have infuriated him, yet it only made him like her
more. Thankfully, a glimpse or even nearness could lift his spirits, and if he
was lucky their eyes connected, the endearment he saw there, mirroring his own. It
was undeniable that Morgan lived for her crew, they were her family, he was beginning
to understand why. Sha was starting to feel like he belonged, it wasn’t just
the fierce loyalty of the crew and captain, it was the fact that they all
seemed to have a purpose. Nia for example was the ships healer and counsellor, Sha
had spent countless nights after killing the black cloak waking up in a sweaty
panic. Nia had been there for him and although he had learnt basic sign
language to understand her counsel, she was also there simply to listen. The
crew all seemed to mirror Morgan’s unwavering trust towards each other, each crewmember
a piece of the larger puzzle. A sudden thought arrested him, “Aren’t I a
piece of the puzzle as well? They trust me, I need to be honest!” He shook
himself outwardly. It was time to find Morgan, she would need to listen.
Morgan was
unwinding after a shift at the wheel, which usually involved practising a
discipline of fighting. Her current activity hand to hand combat, her every movement
an act of defence. The style had been taught to her by a monk from the far
west, it used an opponent’s force against them, it was just as she was feeling
like her fake opponent needed to turn into a real one that she turned to find Sha
watching her. He had made himself at home leaning against her door, dimpled grin,
and ready smile on display. Infected by his uplifting presence, she released a
smile of her own, “Care to join, I need a sparring partner?” She asked
cheerfully.
“Tell you what, I will spar with you if I
can borrow your beautiful ears,” He replied.
Morgan wanted to point out the corny nature
of Sha’s comment, but something stopped her. “You are on, but you really don’t
need to compliment me to talk,” she affirmed.
Before long, her defensive style had Sha
panting, puffed, and frustrated. Morgan finding the whole experience rather rewarding,
after all the point of the exercise was to force your adversary to expend all their
energy. Sha aimed a half decent kick in her direction, she stepped into safety before
using momentum to pull him forward and down, saving him the knee to the face
that would normally follow, the move designed to leave an assailant
incapacitated. Her act of kindness rewarded when a set of legs wrapped around
her, she fell on top, laughing at her sudden horizontal position. Sha was an opportunist,
his embrace secure. She smiled upwards, feeling a sense of safety in anticipation.
Strangely, there was no follow through, Sha’s face lost in thought. Concerned,
Morgan freed herself then leapt up, “We better have that chat now,” she said,
offering a hand. Accepting her help, Sha stood, yet once upright froze,
shoulders tensing, seemingly unsure of how to start. Morgan led him to a chair
then remembering that he seemed to like her favourite whisky, broke contact to
pour a glass. Concerned, she sat in the opposite chair, knees touching,
everything she knew about the man screaming of his pain. Taking his hands in
hers, she waited, watching a bowed head desperately hoping for it to rise.
When Sha finally released words, his voice
was coarse with emotion and loss, “My little sister was murdered by black
cloaks. My mother had to mourn the loss of her only daughter. My father refused
to speak of her, as if her ghost would haunt us, he would silence all talk in a
rage.” Sha was lost in a painful past, wishing to come to the rescue Morgan gripped
his hands and when that wasn’t enough moved behind, her meagre offering a hug. After
a while, she placed her head upon his shoulder, her view was of an
uncharacteristically serious face. Swallowing, Sha continued, “We lied about
how she died, so my father could control the situation. I was so angry, I still
am. I started to drink from an early age to cope. I was drunk when I got into a
fight with my brother and wounded him. I ended up running from the consequences
like a coward,” Sha’s bitter words led them into silence.
They
sat amidst uncontrolled emotion until Morgan offered a change of topic, “How
did you find yourself on a slave ship bound for Sirillia?”
Sha’s response coupled with an unconvincing
smile, “I was drinking myself into a stupor, trying to hide in a small
backwater township and woke up one day aboard a ship chained, confused and very
hungover. The hospitality of the town was clearly lacking.” Although Sha still
had his sense of humour intact Morgan got the distinct impression that he wanted
to say more, instead time slipped by. And so, in silence they sat, until a
knock roused them, “Busy come back later,” Morgan called, her voice raspy with
emotion.
It was a night like
any in Bastien, the smell of salty air coming through the window typical of the
Citadel, you could never get away from that smell. If Mira had her way, the
castle would be surrounded in lush fields filled with lavender and fragrant
flowers not cliffs overlooking the sea and malodourous canals. Sleep eluded
her, she was considering getting up when she heard the muffled sounds of a
scuffle, realising where it was coming from, she yelled as she leapt out of bed,
“Guards the king is under attack!”
Bare feet hitting stone, she grabbed a pin that she used to affix hair pieces,
feeling momentarily foolish at her absurd choice of protection, she raced
towards her husband’s adjoining chamber. Opening the door, she rushed inwards,
the scene that was illuminated by a hearth’s warm glow was enough to
momentarily stop her heart. Her husband who was still in bed was caught in a
deadly struggle with a black cloak, both assailant’s hands tasked with forcing
a dagger downwards towards the Herne’s exposed heart. “GUARDS!”
Her panicked scream was followed by a worried thought, “Where are they?” It
was all Herne could do to stop the dagger from reaching him, his hands shaking
as they pushed in an alternate direction. Worry fuelled instinct, instinct
demanding action, one step taking her into the fray, with an upwards thrust she
sent the sharp metal pin into the black cloaks side. As she slammed it home,
she knew that the needle had hit a previously whole heart. The effect of her
action instant, the king making progress in his struggles, wrenching the dagger
from the black cloaks grip, he shoved it into an exposed neck, the assailants end
was to collapse beside a sturdy bed. Overcome by emotion Mira fell to her knees
and was soon weeping hysterically.
“There, there it’s okay. I’m alright, it’s
only a scratch,” Herne offered, as he awkwardly patted her upon the back.
Mira could only reply when her sobs
allowed, “I know, but I used my training in healing to take a life.” Herne may
have spoken, yet the defining sound of a swarm of guards entering the chamber
drowned out all. They were soon surrounded in a ring of steel, the hyper
vigilance providing a sudden lack of space. With Herne’s help, she got up and sat
upon the edge of the bed, Mira glanced upwards to show her gratitude, the pallor
of Herne’s skin giving her pause. Before she could remark on such, her world
crashed into a wave of sound and chaos.
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