Dennis McKiernan: City of Jade

Yet that had occurred some two thousand sea miles astern, though it was but six days ago.

At her helm stood Aylis, brown-haired and tall and slender, a sprinkle of freckles high on her cheeks. Now and again she made slight adjustments in the set of the wheel, as if an occasional minor movement in response to a twitch in the wind kept the ship running swift and true.

Standing back on the aft deck and watching the lady helmsman maintain the course of the ship stood Fat Jim, his left arm in a sling, for it had been shattered by a hurled slingstone. Even so, still his hands twitched in synchronicity with each slight shift the lady made, and he nodded vigorously in agreement at every small turn of the wheel.

Aft of them both and with one elbow against the taffrail lounged Aravan, his tilted, sapphire blue eyes atwinkle, a slight smile on his face as he watched.

In the late-afternoon sunlight lying aglance ’cross the waves, up the ladder to the aft deck came Long Tom, tall and sandy haired and as broad as a great slab of beef. “M’lady Aylis,” he said as he passed the helm, but she was concentrating on the wind-ribbon above, high atop the raked-back mizzenmast, and she did not reply, but made another slight adjustment instead.

“Fat Jim,” said Long Tom, nodding to the rotund Pellarian, the Eroean ’s first steersman.

“Tom,” replied Fat Jim, without looking at the big man, but instead shifting his gaze from the streaming ribbon above to watch the lady’s corresponding nudge of the helm.

“Cap’n Aravan,” said the huge man.

“Long Tom,” replied Aravan, shifting his attention to the first officer.

“Cap’n,” said Long Tom, “th’ crew has cleaned up the last o’ th’ damage done to th’ decks, and they’ve replaced the two silks what was ruint by the bluidy Kistanee-flung fire. An’ Brekk says that th’ ballistas are as good as new, him ’n’ his Dwarven warband settin’ them t’rights. Th’ only thing left is t’take th’ soot ’n’ smudge off th’ sides o’ th’ hull and t’lay on a bit o’ fresh paint, there where th’ other fireballs struck. Soon as we drop anchor in Port Arbalin, I’ll see the men get right to it.”

Aravan shook his head. “Nay, Tom. After those yet injured are taken ashore and put in the care of the healers, as soon as the cargo is unladed and we moor in the harbor beyond, we’ll take some time aland-a moon and fortnight at least, mayhap more-for this voyage has been hard on us all, and we deserve a goodly rest and time for wounds to heal, both those we can see and those we cannot. Hence, apart from a watch, we’ll set the crew to shore leave, rotating the ward until all have had a fine fling, and until those with the most severe injuries and who would sail on with us have had a fair chance to recover.

“And we’ll have to wait for Brekk to ride to the Red Hills and recruit eight Drimma to replace those we lost, and that will take three fortnights in all for the trip there and back.”

“Cap’n, Oi’d loike t’help sign on th’ Men we’ll need t’ bring th’ sailor crew up t’ full complement.”

“Fear not, Tom, for when it comes to recruiting more Men for the crew I would have thee at my side along with Aylis, for I would have nought but the best; hence, I’ll send word to thee.

“But as for staying aboard the ship, I know thou wouldst rather hie to that redheaded wife of thine, as well as thy boy Little Tom, and I would not deny thee that.”

“Cap’n, Larissa understands Oi’ve a duty t’th’ Eroean .”

“Mayhap. . yet I think Little Tom doesn’t.”

A great smile of relief lit up Long Tom’s face, and he said, “Oy, naow, Oi do b’lieve y’r roight about that, Cap’n. Oi do b’lieve y’r roight.”

Aravan stepped forward and surveyed the main deck teeming with sailors and warriors at the last of their chores, some of them, as did Fat Jim, yet bearing the remnants of hurt. In addition, Binkton and Pipper and Lissa were adeck, doing what they could to help with the cleanup and repairs. And belowdecks and under the care of Desault, there remained several of the more severely wounded, some who couldn’t seem to recover from the Rucken arrows, yet they had none of the rotting blackness; still, three couldn’t quite get a full breath, while two others had numbness in arms and legs. And then there were those who were yet knitting severely broken bones. However, the majority of the cuts and bruises and punctures the crew had suffered had healed on the voyage home.

“We’ll put up at the Red Slipper,” said Aravan, turning once again to Long Tom.

“Oy, th’ crew’ll go f’r that,” came the reply. “Oi mean, we’ve been asea a goodly long spell, ’n’ they’ll welcome some toime wi’ th’ laidies o’ th’ Slipper.”

“I ween the ladies themselves would welcome that as well,” said Aravan, and he glanced at Aylis.

A low, throaty laugh was her response, but she took not her eye from the wind pennant above as she made a minor adjustment in the wheel, Fat Jim behind her twitching his hands in concert, the hefty helmsman’s mouth pursed in concentration.

“Besides,” added Long Tom, stepping forward and looking down on the main deck, “they c’d use some gaiety to help ’em get over their grievin’ for good comrades lost, ’n’ t’ help ’em forget our bad toime ashore.”

“Land ho!” came the cry from above. “Port Arbalin dead ahead!”

As Second Officer Nikolai came up the ladder to the aft deck, Aravan said, “Stand by to hale in the studs and full reef all others; we’ll take her in on nought but the stays.”

“Aye, Kapitan,” replied Nick, and he called orders to Noddy, bosun of the fastest ship in the world, and Noddy piped the commands to all.

And as the crew made ready, swiftly did the Eroean cleave the indigo waters of the deep blue Avagon Sea.

In gathering twilight, the elegant Eroean slid into the harbor, now running on staysails alone, and then even these were loosed to luff in the wind, and dinghies were lowered and towropes affixed to hale the Elvenship to dockside.

There she would deliver her wounded unto the care of healers, as well as off-lade the hard-won treasured cargo she held in her hold: prized, precious, translucent stone the crew had wrested from a ghostly foe in the long-dead City of Jade.

ELVENSHIP

SPRING, 6E10

The crew put up at the Red Slipper, the large, rowdy inn and bordello a favorite gathering place for warriors and sailors and travellers of all sorts. At times Elven warbands would come through, or battle-hardened Dwarves. Fjordsmen, Vanadurin, Gelenders, occasionally the dark men from the far south, as well as others of various nations seemed to cluster here on their way to or when returning from distant realms. Traders, trappers, hostlers, shippers, merchants, minstrels, Mages, tradesmen, even passing royalty: all seemed to make it a point to stay awhile or even to just stop by. And whenever the Eroean was in port, townsfolk themselves came to spend an eve, all to see and hear of the adventures of the Elvenship’s crew.

And the ladies of the Slipper-Yellow Nell, Dark-Eyed Lara, Laughing Jane, and the others-enjoyed the company of these men, especially the crew of the Eroean , for they seemed the best of the lot.

Burly Jack, owner and bartender, always had a tun of the Vancha Dark held in reserve especially for this crew, and he had a standing order for kegs of ale from the Holt of Vorn to be delivered on short notice whenever the Elvenship came to port.

And the local cadgers were happy to see the Eroean moored in the bay, for Captain Aravan’s crew loosened their generous purse strings. And this time, on the day the Elvenship was sighted, Dabby the Cadger, making his way around a barroom brawl in the Red Slipper’s common room, was the first to report it to Burly Jack, and received the reward of a mug of the Vornholt for the welcome news.