Dennis McKiernan: City of Jade

And so, that eve, after off-lading their wounded and the cargo of jade, and after mooring the Elvenship in the bay, the crew descended upon the Red Slipper and procured rooms and hot baths and laughed and drank and partook of the other amenities of that splendid inn.

But though they seemed joyous at being in port again, there lurked in the backs of the eyes of some of the sailors and the Dwarves and the two Warrows, as well as the captain and his lady, a painful memory or two, something it seemed they’d rather not discuss. And the only glimmering of what it might be was when the captain called for quiet, and when it fell he raised his glass and said, “To absent friends.”

And so said they all.

Some of the patrons not of the crew found it odd that Captain Aravan seemed to have a pet fox-“A marvelous ratter,” declared Burly Jack, hastily adding, “Not that the Slipper has rats, mind you.” But now and then those who worked at the inn would glance from the fox to a small cluster of darkness lurking here and there, and they would nod to themselves and say nought of the shadow to others.

The crew spent nearly the full of the spring resting, relaxing, and celebrating. And every night, it seemed, a small group of them gathered about the fireplace and told tales to one another until the wee hours of morn. And the next day patrons would overhear references to Gelvin’s Doom, and a wyrm in a well, and other such mysterious things, yet what they might be about, none but a few of the crew seemed to know.

Four signal events occurred during the stay of the captain and his mates, each of which caused ripples of excitement to flow through the town: the first was when Bair and his sire and dam and his truelove came sailing in one day, for Bair was known as the Dawn Rider, the one who brought the Silver Sword to Mithgar, and that was the sword Aravan used to slay Gyphon. His sire and dam-Urus the Baeran, and Riatha, the legendary Dara with the darksilver sword-were also famous in Mithgarian lore, and Jaith, Bair’s truelove, was a bard beyond compare. The Red Slipper was packed night after night to hear their tales and to listen to Jaith sing. And many citizens dropped by during the days on the chance they might catch a glimpse of these famous folk.

The second event of note was when Dalavar the Wolfmage and his pack of Draega came to call, the ’Wolves as big as ponies. He stayed but two days, and he and the captain were as thick as thieves, and with a few others they sat in a far corner and spoke quietly to one another. What they said, none of the townsfolk knew, but when Dalavar and his Silver Wolves left, they took Bair and Jaith with them. And just after they were gone, Urus and Riatha sailed away, heading for Caer Pendwyr, or so someone said.

Over the next days the captain and a small circle continued to talk together quietly, while the crew of the Eroean relaxed and fought and gambled and sang and drank and dallied with the ladies of the Red Slipper.

As for the arc of friends at the hearth, they continued to gather each eve, and they spent a moon and a sevenday telling tales in the wavering candlecast shadows. Toward the mid of this time, Urus and Raitha returned from Caer Pendwyr and rejoined the hearth-tale group.

The next event of note was when Aravan and Aylis and Long Tom spent the afternoons meeting with the glut of men who wanted to sign aboard the Eroean and fill any of the positions now open on the sailing crew. One by one they came into a small room, where Long Tom and Aravan asked each of them questions as to his experience and skills. Aylis sat apart and jotted notes in a journal as she peered intently at every one of the applicants, and each of them felt as if she were seeing to the depths of his very soul.

In the latter days of the interviews, the fourth event occurred: a ferry from Merchants Crossing arrived, and with it came Brekk and eight Dwarves, enough to bring the Eroean ’s Chakka warband up to the full strength of forty. And one of these Red Hill Dwarves the Warrows seemed to know-’twas the Chak named Brekka, apparently an acquaintance of old.

Finally, in concert with Long Tom, and relying heavily on Aylis, Aravan chose the men to fill out the remainder of the crew.

The dreadful events in the City of Jade had taken their toll, yet once again the Elvenship was up to her full complement of sailors, forty men in all.

Aravan settled the bill with Burly Jack, and a hefty sum it was, and he left a generous bonus for each member of the staff of the infamous inn-cooks, maids, and bottle washers all, including the Red Slipper ladies.

Then the crew entire-warriors and sailors and scouts-spent the next few days aboard ship.

Upon arrival at the Eroean , Long Tom assembled all hands on deck, and with Aylis looking on and Aravan leading, the sailors and warband took an oath to reveal no secrets of the Elvenship: the old hands renewing their pledge; the new hands vowing for the first time. Then all pledged a second time to never divulge to anyone the fact that they would sail with a Pysk, for she was one of the Hidden Ones, and preferred to keep it that way. Finally, the Dwarves and Men took an oath to reveal nought of this voyage whatsoever to anyone not of the crew. And when the pledging was done, Aravan looked to Aylis, and she nodded in satisfaction.

Under the tutelage of Nikolai and Brekk, the new crew members spent days familiarizing themselves with the ship and their duties, while the old hands spent time setting things to shipshape, some removing the scars the hull had taken in combat with the Rovers of Kistan, and laying on new paint where needed.

And as they readied the craft, Aylis spent time recording in her journal the tales they had told one another in the nights before the hearth. And the Chakka warband stripped and cleaned and regreased and reassembled the ballistas, or laded fireballs and round stones and huge arrows aboard, or sharpened axes or polished war hammers or oiled crossbows and such. And sailors swabbed or painted or coiled lines, or practiced reefing and goosewinging as well as running out the studding sails, and other such duties of seamanship.

As they worked at familiarizing themselves with the Elvenship, one of the new crewmen asked Aravan, “Beggin’ pardon, Captain, but what be the name Eroean mean?”

“ ’Tis an Elven word, Jules, and difficult to translate into Common, yet as close as I can come, it means Dancer on the Wind .”

“Ar, then Wind Dancer be her name, eh?”

Aravan smiled and said, “Not quite, but close.”

Within a sevenday all was ready, and Aravan had rowers in dinghies hale the Eroean to a pier, and there he tied up; and with the docks and ship abustle and cargo nets on booms swinging up and across decks and below, they laded on kegs and crates and barrels and bales of food and water and other such goods for the long voyage ahead. When the last of the provisions was lashed down in the holds, Aravan granted the crew a final day of shore leave, for they would sail morrow’s eve, and it would be many a moon ere they saw these shores again.

To the Red Slipper the sailors and warriors went, while Aravan and Aylis and Urus and Riatha stayed aboard, along with Pipper and Binkton and Aylissa and Vex.

Even as the crew took their leave, a man rowed a dinghy to the ship. “Ahoy, the deck!” he called.

Aravan stepped to the rail.

It was Realmsman Tanner.

“I have a gift for two of your shipmates,” called the realmsman.

“And they would be. .?”

“Binkton and Pipper.”

Hearing their names, the Warrows stepped to the rail as well.

“Hand it up,” said Aravan, lowering a rope and board ladder, “and then welcome aboard.”

Tanner hefted up a large chest, one painted with flames. “It’s empty, I’m afraid.”