Day 9 - mid-morning

Dolfis stared morosely at the sea.  The cove they were anchored in was
sheltered, but apparently not enough.  Even without looking back he could see
the broken mast, reflected in the now calm water.  There was no way they could
make it to Isla Perdita, the next port-of-call.  

The gentle morning breeze ruffled his black hair while he stood, leaned
against the railing.  Not for the first time, he wondered if he had made the
wrong decision all those years ago - and yet, what other decision could he
have made?  Besides, a little voice snickered in his ear, you enjoy being a
pirate.  Wincing at the truth of this, Dolfis noticed his first mate sidling
up behind him.
  
"How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad," Griffin replied.  "We havenāt got the wood or the tools to fix
it.  We need a port and the only one close enough is Cabral."

There was no point in hiding his dismay, Griffin had been there from the
beginning.  He knew as well as Dolfis that to return to Cabral was to admit
defeat - and worse.  Dolfis turned back to the sea, trying to think of another
solution, but his thoughts slid away from him as though "Cabral" was the
incantation to cast a spell of memory.

The scent of his motherās fresh-baked bread, the sound of his bare feet
slapping against the wood of the docks as he ran to greet his fatherās ship
and the feel of his scratchy beard with his kiss.  That horrible, cold morning
when his mother would not wake up and his father had said he was old enough
now to be cabin boy  - his pride washing away the newborn grief.  That first
voyage had been incredible - nearly 30 years later and he would swear he could
still feel the sun on his face, the wind in his hair and how proud he was to
stand beside his father, to take his place in the world of men.  That innocent
ten-year-old could never have forseen.... 

He had worked hard, as his fatherās apprentice.  Being the captainās son
hadnāt bought him any favors, that was for sure, but he had learned the trade
and found he was good at it.  His father had lived long enough to see him
become a first mate on a brand new ship the Lord had commissioned, but
thankfully, not lived to see its disastrous sequel.  It was to celebrate his
good fortune and new position that they had gone to the House of the Scarlet
Pleasure.  It had to have been that night it happened - there was no other
time before the maiden voyage of the Marquesa.  It had been an excellent trip
- even with his Lordshipās son as captain.  Stupid to put a half-trained and
untested lordling in as captain, but it wasnāt Dolfisās place to question his
Lordās orders.  Sure, the young Lord  had gotten them wildly off-course that
one time, but some discreet "misunderstandings" of his further orders had
repaired that and only cost them a few months.  

Dolfis had returned to the Scarlet Pleasure to find Tavie great with child and
glowing with joy.  He hadnāt to wait long - Midwinterās Day and the child was
born.  A tiny, red, squalling thing already with his dark hair.  Tavie was
even willing to let the girl be named for his mother, Augusta.  

The next voyage was the first one he had ever dreaded leaving on.  Heād like
to think it was premonition, but he simply hadnāt wanted to leave Augusta. 
Still, heād never provide for her without his post, so....  The storm had come
up suddenly before they were fairly out of the harbor.  He had advised the
captain to turn back, but true son of his father that he was, he had insisted
it would  blow over.  And continued to insist into the teeth of the gale. 
Wanted to run with it, get some good speed in a boat too lightly loaded to sit
deep in the waves.  Young Grouty had ordered the helmsman flogged when he
refused to turn aport to catch the wind.  Blinded with his own power and too
ignorant to know what he was doing, the Lord would drive them all to their
doom.  Without truly even thinking, Dolfis had drawn on the captain and
ordered him - ordered the Lord! - to stand down. 
 
Dolfis snorted with disgust at the memory.  Come to think on it, it was this
very cove they had sheltered in.  Young Grouty had been locked in his
quarters, but unharmed - Dolfis had made sure of that, in spite of the
helmsmanās fury.  After the storm they had given him one of the dinghies and
let him row himself back into Cabral.  It hadnāt been that far.  Naturally,
his lordshipās father hadnāt seen it that way.  Mutiny and treason against
oneās lawful lord - Dolfis should be hanged, would be - just as soon as they
could catch him.

"We cannot go to Cabral.  Another solution will have to present itself."

He had been back only once.  In defiance of Groutyās death sentence, he had
snuck back when he had heard of Tavieās death.  Griffin had argued against it.
 It was madness to risk himself this way, he couldnāt even be sure the child
was his - and besides, whoever heard of a cabin girl anyway?  Nonetheless, he
had come along.  After all, someone sane had to go too.  

Dolfis hadnāt realized how long it had taken the message to get to him, nor
imagined what could happen to her without a protector.  His hand clenched.  He
KNEW Duggan was slime, he should have known what he would do, should never
have left them there. Krel, he could never have forseen. Nor what he would
have to do.  He stared bleakly at his hands, still half-expecting them to be
stained.  Not that there had been much blood.  

"What other solution, Capān?  Cabral is the only decent-sized port on this coast."

Dolfis shrugged irritably and continued to watch the clouds float across the
sky.  In the wake of the storm the clouds had faded to thin, wispy streaks of
white - they almost looked like wraiths.  Wraiths?!  That was it!  Chortling
with glee, he spun on his heel to face a startled Griffin.

"The warren, Griff!   Our tithe is nearly due - and with them right in the
path of that storm, they might well need some extra help.  Pipe up the crew
and get the oars out.  Weāll row our way to Jasra."

********
same day, early afternoon

Dolfis heaved a sigh as they anchored just off Jasraās coastline.  The beach
had clearly been worked on, but had just as clearly seen some heavy damage. 
Oh well, he hadnāt really expected that the warren would be undamaged ö and
maybe this way, they could be of service to the warren, instead of it always
being the other way around.   He climbed into the longboat and sat back as the
crewman rowed him ashore.  It seemed best to leave the tithe chests in the
boat for now ö along with the majority of his escort.  No telling where theyād
want the stuff and there was no sense in carting it anywhere they didnāt need
to.  

His feet carried him easily to the Warrenladyās office.  He couldnāt help but
stop a moment to watch the dragons.  Heād never been Searched, never had the
chance ö and truth to tell, he doubted his father would have let him go, not
being the only son ö but heād always loved to watch the magnificent creatures.
 What a treat and an honor to be chosen by one.  Shaking out of his reverie,
he knocked on the door and entered when bidden.  But the young woman behind
the desk was unfamiliar to him.

"Whereās Evelle?"

The woman raised an eyebrow at him, but answered politely.  "Iām afraid Evelle
died a few weeks ago.  I am the new warrenlady, perhaps I can help you?"

"Died?"  His face fell.  The death of a queen was never good and she hadnāt
been that old, what could have happened?  Sharply bringing his mind back to
business he continued, "I am Dolfis Seathief.  Weāve brought our tithes. 
Where would you like them put?"

{Tag, John!}

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Katrina

Bio to follow·.