Chapter 13: Facets

The gut-wrenching sound of Aiden spewing overboard was once again breaking her concentration—the man had been at it now for a few days and Meena was sure he was timing his bouts to when it was the most annoying, but just to her. If that wasn’t bad enough, the rat had his manservant running around like a dog, “Arlo, where is my water, clean this up, wipe this. Might as well be saying wipe my—” In surprise of the fact that she had been talking out loud, she glanced around to see if anyone had been listening. Lo and behold, Aiden was taking a break from feeding the fishes to stare at her. The look of amusement on his face off-putting, the man didn’t even know that he should avert his gaze when she was exhibiting unfriendly behaviour. Normally, Meena was good at practising active calming techniques—mostly because she was quick to anger. But this man took things to a new level. She scowled to send a clear message and continued, the movement she was practising, involved flicking her swords up, and after a slight spin in the air, she would catch them as they came down. Consequently, the action involved a lot of concentration, Aiden actually spoke to her, “The art of Yuiani is common in Sirillia, but it’s extremely rare to find someone so proficient. You must have started at an early age.” Meena’s horribly timed catch brought with it a stinging sensation and she found herself kneeling for a second. Her swords hit the deck beside her, at the same time a wave of nausea brought an untoward lack of control, the cause, a faint memory stirring in the back of her mind.

Blinking to clear her vision; Meena took a moment to confirm equilibrium, before throwing active calm, out the window. After rescuing her swords, she strode up to her tormentor and stopped inches from his face, “If you are not careful, you will find yourself attached to the aqua sail,” she snarled, the smell of vomit making the task difficult.     

Aiden offered an even stare and casual words, “Aren’t we a feisty one.”

Before she could slam a hilt into the annoyingly pretty face, Sha spoke from behind, “Come on now Meena, Aiden is a passenger, we don’t verbally and physically abuse passengers.”

Fed up, she huffed and turned to move away which was when she overheard Sha offering kind advice, “Looks like you are the new target, although she normally has a better imagination when it comes to her jibes, just be careful with that one; she does bite.” Feeling a little vindicated, Meena, headed for the second-best training spot on the ship.

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It had taken a week for Aiden to get over his bout of seasickness, now he sat in Morgan’s cabin perusing her furnishings as if he belonged there. The man was a mystery, the more she got to know him, the more she was sure that his stuck-up attitude was an act, to waylay truth. Although hidden motives held her back from making a full assessment of his character, he was somehow growing on her. While light brown hair and hazel eyes were not handsome on their own, the addition of a square jaw and provocative lips, made for a pleasing mix. Morgan offered a glass of whisky before getting down to business, “Being that I usually don’t allow just anyone on board this ship, I need to lay down some ground rules.  Firstly, why are you on my ship, before you reply, I’m not looking for the answer, because the crown prince told me to.”

Aiden’s reply was disarmingly honest, “I like your directness, so I will reply in kind. Normally, I prefer to skulk around, sucking in titbits of information, so when the prince requested that I go on this voyage I protested more than a northerner giving money in church. I was overruled however, so in short, the crown prince told me to.”

Morgan attempted another question, “That’s fair enough, considering your permanent position in the last week, it seems that sea voyages aren't familiar to you. I am curious, however, how does someone with your face and temperament, become a spy master?”

Aiden offered a secretive smile, his response vague, “You didn’t see me once when you were in Bastien, I, however, saw you. I wouldn’t be a very good spy master if I didn’t know how to blend in.”

Morgan sighed inwardly, her hands were tied, and Aiden knew it, “So be it, a few rules then, tell me straight away if you have any information pertinent to our mission. Treat your manservant with more respect around my crew and stop pushing Meena’s buttons—she will floor you.”

Aiden’s smile widened at her last request, yet his reply gave away little, “This isn’t my normal gig, but I think that you are all going to grow on me.” He moved to exit, apparently dismissing himself.

“Where is your pet? It seems to have left its perch,” she asked.

Aiden threw out a casual response as he stepped over the threshold, “I used to think Aquila was my pet, but he comes and goes as he pleases and always seems to find me after.” Morgan watched her visitor leave, her mind sending a warning, despite appearances he was indeed a master.

 

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Most voyages were long, but to get to the continent of Sirillia, you had to be at sea for close to a month, supplies were always rationed on the way back, usually because a ship leaving the continent was full of exotic materials: herbs, spices, and other wares. On the leg to Sirillia things were aways plentiful. It certainly was a plentiful afternoon; the crew were playing their favourite card game—drinking rum and snacking on a batch of sweet dough cakes Gruth had whipped up in the galley. Sha was rapidly becoming frustrated, the only way for Marlo to be winning in such a fashion was to cheat, he didn’t even think it was possible to cheat in such company. Sha tapped his foot impatiently as he waited once again for the spectacled giant to take his turn. Marlo played the fool and then a three in quick succession. Bested again, he threw down his cards in frustration, the words that exploded from his mouth were in no way endorsed by his mother. His rant generating boisterous laughter from the crew. The game of Captain’s Bastard always ensured that someone was disappointed, and this time it just happened to be him.

“Watch your harsh language Sha, I’m the only one that is allowed to swear around here,” Marlo exclaimed in mock indignation.

The crew’s mirth at Marlo’s antics, compounded his frustration. Marlo’s version of swearing included words which triggered Sha’s cheeks to burn—words, which he would never utter. After a few more unsuccessful hands, he finished his rum and went on a search of Morgan; surely her presence would be more uplifting than the cards.

Sha found her on the quarterdeck, her whimsical demeanour leaving him unsure. Morgan was leaning against the railing, staring into the churning sea, “crown for your thoughts?” He asked.

She offered a distracted smile, “Do you ever get the feeling, your life is like a leaf on a pond?” She asked.

Sha was no stranger to metaphorical questions, yet he hadn’t known Morgan to be the melancholy type, “If you mean you have no control over life, I will have to disagree, the choices that we make are the ripples that direct the leaf,” he replied, feeling rather chuffed by his satisfactory response. Morgan sighed; her eyes fixated on the churn. Concerned, Sha offered helpful words, “I see where this is going, you are missing Nia’s guidance and I’m your fill in, what you don’t know, however, is it was my mother raised me so I can answer these sorts of questions all day. What’s going on? Why are you suddenly questioning your existence?”

Finally, Morgan produced a smile, her words enlightening, “Ah, you have never been at sea with me for this long, this is what the crew calls my second stage.”

“Wait, your what?” He exclaimed.

“The crew decided that I go through stages during a voyage. The first stage is apparently my business stage when I go around establishing my dominance and checking everything until it’s so perfect it’s worn out from perfection. Then comes the second stage, the pondering stage. I sit around and deeply ponder the meaning of life. Apparently the third stage is the madness stage because I take the first stage and add a bit of grumpiness and then feel bad and end up apologising to everyone once we reach port.” Sha met her smile, like a found gem, he had discovered another facet of Morgan’s personality. It was truly intoxicating to be in her presence, and he wanted it to stay that way forever.  

 

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Although working without her trusty swords wasn’t a normal occurrence for Meena, lately she had found good reasons to separate herself from their familiarity. Amidst a series of manoeuvres designed to train muscle and memory, she glanced up to find Aiden appraising her, in his typical I know this bothers you and I don’t care, kind of way. Clenching her jaw and balling her fists, she strode over and planted herself before him, “What reason could you possibly have for staring at me all the time, except for a yearning for physical harm?” She growled.

Aiden raised an eyebrow and replied in his typical but casual way, “Just curiosity that’s all, you seem to have a good grasp of your trade but there are areas of difference.” Meena was incensed, after a night of random nightmares causing lack of sleep and days of memories which had bubbled to the surface unwelcome, Aiden’s presence and general irritability sent her over the edge. Fists still balled, she fired a jab towards the bridge of his pretty nose, her fist missed entirely and hit only air where his face had been seconds before. Using the over extension of her action, Aiden stepped forward and extended the back of his arm, pushing her past him. Meena spun around to face her tormentor, only to find that he had backed up and was holding his palms upright in submission, it was too late she was in full fight mode. Bringing her left leg up, she straightened her knee in a powerful downward action, his backing up causing her to miss again, the missing wasn’t helping her feel better or more vindicated. She continued in earnest, sending out a series of vicious kicks, Aiden ducking or sidestepping each one. Now infuriated, Meena continued to mix jabs with kicks. Suddenly and without warning, Aiden joined, aiming some attacks of his own, her ability sending his strikes harmlessly away, and still no crunch, scratch, bleed or even glance of the target, to give relief. Before Meena knew it, they were sparing, continuing to duck, weave or block each other’s attempts. The familiarity of the situation bringing discomfort; they were close in skill. Aiden was still in control of the situation, and she was left frustrated. Panic took over, she stepped forwards and pushed her palms against his chest, the irrational move sending him backwards. Quickly moving past, she sought as much space as the ship allowed, wanting to be anywhere but staring at a smug, self-centred face. Hyperventilation came to visit as she rushed towards Morgan’s cabin, hopefully she would find some comfort there.

 

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Morgan was updating the captain’s log when Meena strode in, her friend’s disposition sending the quill to rest. Wordless, Meena paced backwards and forwards, breathing rapidly, her arms making jerky movements, after a few tense moments she collapsed into the nearest chair. Meena’s facial expressions generally swung from tight-lipped grumpy face to passive, but tormented was a new and alarming sight.  Finding herself on uncertain ground Morgan went with the safe option of waiting for her friend to articulate what she was feeling, she moved a chair opposite and sat down, “If I could have just, landed a punch, I would have been satisfied,” Meena asserted.

It quickly dawned on her, who her friend was referring to, “I have been watching you lately, you can’t tell me the only reason you are in this state is a self-important man who likes to rile you up.”

Meena sat there clenching and releasing her fists, weighing up her next words, when she finally did speak, all became apparent, “It’s not just him, its everything, I have had broken sleep because of a raft of memories that I have recalled from my childhood.” Meena sounded deflated—all fierceness gone. Wishing for Nia’s skill in these situations, Morgan waited for her friend to provide further explanation, when she did her words were laced with loss, “Apparently, I spent a good part of my early life holding my sword’s mostly in exhaustion, even then I would still have to train, my punishment for not being able to lift my swords or any sort of deemed failure was physical abuse, verbal abuse, or starvation. It seems that growing up a Black Cloak wasn’t a fun childhood filled with, love and fulfilment.”

Seeing straight through Meena’s sarcastic admission, Morgan dragged her chair closer and surprised herself by saying something that Nia often expressed, “Okay, I understand now why you have been so unhappy, please tell me everything, let’s bring this out to the light where it can’t hurt you.”

For a second, Meena stared at her, desperation upon her beautiful face, then she talked. Word by word, experience by experience, pieces of her friend’s personality suddenly made sense. Difficult and harrowing as it was, Morgan stood her ground as her friend outlined nightmares and memories of trials that no child should ever have to endure. Amidst it all she added the black cloaks to a growing, but selective, list of people who she would ensure got what was coming to them.

 

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They had been working on Marlo’s invention for days, although if you listened to Marlo, he had been working on said creation for decades. Even though Sha had been hammering, folding, and cutting metal for ages, the only logical words that his mentor had uttered about the creation was “conflagration” and “chamber.” Which was alarming to say the least, I mean it was bad enough that he was having to do tasks which usually required a forge, but to be working on something called a fire chamber on a ship was simply insane. Sha smiled as he pondered to himself that he was getting used to Marlo’s absurdity, sweat dripping from his brows, he stopped to have a drink, “Oh, yes, please take a break lad,” Marlo asserted.

Sha leaned upon the bench and took in the sight of his mentor amidst a typical fit of activity, his quill flicking as he scribbled notes upon the draft that he was working on. He smiled, even when Marlo was mumbling to himself, he would add a swear word or two, “Marlo, quick question?” he asked.

“Out with it lad, I’m trying to work out how to keep the temperature constant,” Marlo grumbled, clearly eager to be back at his work.

“I’m just wondering why you always refer to me as lad, or boy and, sometimes if I annoy you too much, child?” He asked.

Marlo placed his quill down as if his reply needed thought, “Two reasons lad, firstly, you were a little childish when we first met, and secondly, I’m 236 years old, to me you are a child!”

Water sprayed from Sha’s mouth and a fit of coughing ensued. Marlo aimed a stern gaze in his direction when some of the liquid landed upon his draft. Of course, when Sha was able to breathe once again, he sought information, “Okay, we are going to talk about how it’s at all possible that you could be that old, but what I wanted to say was despite my bad experience with my own father, I don’t mind when you use those terms. I think if I could choose, you would be a good option.” Now it was Marlo’s turn to be surprised—his quill snapping for effect. Grinning, Sha continued to batter his mentor with inappropriate lines of inquiry, “Is that why you know so many swear words? Does someone who is your age remember your childhood? How many children do you have? If you didn’t shave for 100 years, how long would your beard be?” He was eventually shoved out of the workshop, apparently so his mentor could get a breather and fix some quills.

 

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Later that day Marlo was leaning upon the railing, thinking about his latest invention, which was quite taxing and that was saying something as he was insanely intelligent. A complex equation was bouncing around in his brain when his attention was stolen by some inappropriate behaviour. Aiden was demanding that Arlo find him some purified water for a parched throat, even though he had already sent his manservant below decks numerous times for other trivial things. Sighing, Marlo walked over and placed an arm upon Aiden’s shoulder, which wasn’t hard, he towered over everyone although that had more to do with genes rather than attitude. “I heard a rumour that you are not playing well with others,” He affirmed casually.

Aiden had the good manners to speak with an edge of panic in his voice, “Yes it seems, I have offended some.”

Marlo offered kind advice, amidst a hope that his target understood if he left swear words out of a sentence, then he really meant business, “We are all family on this ship Aiden. If you harm one of us than you harm all of us. That is why it wouldn’t be a good idea to continue with your current way of making friends. You see my friend, unlike most on this ship I can throw you overboard without much effort. Oh, and treat your manservant with respect or you will find your roles reversed.”

“In no way am I trying to offend. I will try harder, I promise,” Aiden stammered, the last said in a slightly higher tone.

Marlo gripped Aiden’s shoulder before replying, “That a boy, I knew as soon as I saw you, that we were going to be fast friends.” He walked away amidst a feeling of happiness and if he looked back, he would have been uplifted by the surprised expression upon Aiden’s face, but such pursuits were simply too rudimentary for one so transcendent.