Ch: 250 Hold Me Closer, Tony Danza
As sunrise lit the sky, Gary’s ability to see failed hard, leaving them lost in a pure white haze. He cut the motor and let them drift to a stop… or maybe they were still moving… The wind had died, leaving the world a blank white canvas, save for the ship herself and a few yards of dark water all around.
Port Clement’s foghorn was lost in the distance and muffling vapor. Rather than fumble in the haze, he dropped anchor and settled down with his bass recorder to play foghorn on the bow, while his family slept on. The galley was starting to smell like breakfast when he went back aft and woke the kids and Shai gently, by jiggling their hammock stays.
“Mmm…” Amy fussed, rolled over and went right back to sleep, rejecting morning and everything to do with it. Rio agreed, but Wilf and Shai got themselves wriggled free shortly. While those two went below to bathe and get dressed, Gary lounged on the aft rail, watching the diffuse wall of sunlight slowly burn away the fog…
Second bell was long passed, with third rapidly approaching when they got underway again. The fog still lingered farther out on the water and among the wetlands and trees ashore. They ran up the coast in a two hundred yard wide open space around the shoreline, bathed in watery sunshine filtered through the high clouds.
Moonrise made good time, passing several coasters that were becalmed and a few trade wagons trundling up the road, nearly lost in the mist inland. Only those ships with a weather worker aboard or whose crew had propulsion gifts were moving freely in the still morning.
Keen eyed Dannyl spotted Esperanza’s bounty, just a mile ahead, sailing at a good clip, considering the shallow water near shore. A half hour later they drew up alongside and Shai hailed her cheerfully.
“Bounty! Heave to and surrender!” She called across ten yards of rushing water, to her smiling sister at the helm. “Tis the dread pirate Shai an admiral Amy, pirate princess of the Shallow Sea!”
“This one does not answer the demands of pirates!” She replied with a laugh, as her crew boiled out onto the deck. Falco’s chittering giggle scattered across the waves, as he leapt the bowspirit of Moonrise, in a spray of sparkling droplets.
Shai and Amy had insisted that they all change for this special meeting, so it was a very colorful crew of funky musical pirates that came alongside, prepared for a friendly boarding action. Three new faces peered from the windows and hatchways among the familiar ones, including a surprise. “Kermal?” Dannyl shouted happily, as he waved at the young squire. “Is Jules aboard?”
“No this is…Well, I suppose no one unfriendly can hear...” He called across the narrow strip of water between the two moving ships.
“We are on a mission for the ducal council! It’s all very secret!”
“A secret mission? Without us? I’m hurt!” The artist shouted back.
“Other people do Adventure stuff too!” He answered bravely.
Despite the open water below, Shai and the kids convinced Esperanza to swing over on a rope, landing on the aft deck beside them, in a furious melee of hugs and kisses. Gary joined the love fest and hugged it out with Ranza, til Falco made a chirping squeal of protest, demanding attention from the kids as well.
“It is as Kermal says, this one is on a duly sworn council contract, no one may come aboard, until we dock in Wheatford.” She sighed. “We must make all haste and keep on throughout the night, such are the trials of the sailing life.”
Soon it was lunchtime, which helped motivate Moonrise’s to crew repel the huggable boarding party and separate the two vessels. With fond waves and a little teasing, Moonrise slowly pulled away from her slower sister, powering on into the warming afternoon.
Port Ellis reeked up the starboard side for a short while, as they cut wide around her effluent patch, to avoid the pong that lingered even a half mile out to sea. In their wake, Bounty swung even farther out for Falco’s sake, losing even more… ground to the fast flying little ship.
They slipped up the estuary mouth and nearly skated past Kai’s island, finally beginning to slow, as Gary tired and the river current impeded their progress. Eventually, Shai tucked him into the hammock beside the helm with a blanket and let him sleep.
She clasped the bronze control bracelet on her wrist and felt the familiar pinch, as it began draining her Mana at a prodigious rate.
Reluctantly, she grabbed a pair of ear cuffs and distributed them to the crew on duty. Ivy and Tallum sighed and put them on, each one taking part of the strain from her metaphorical shoulders. “Tis exhausting, an me boy runs dry…” She sighed, glancing at her sleeping mate. “Each of these takes only a tenth part of the burden frae the bracelet wearer. Tis still an awfully heavy load.”
When Shai turned back to the wheel, Wilf was fishing around in the helm locker. The burly little scamp grinned and scooted over to where his brother and sister waited, sitting on a big cushion beneath Gary’s swaying, snoring form. In a twinkle all three kids were back to back to back preparing themselves for meditation time.
Each smiling brat wore a shiny bronze ornament in an ear, lifting much of the terrible strain the motor placed on her.
“Nae kids, tis unfit fer thee!” She scolded the rascals.
“We’ve been cultivatin’!” Amy announced firmly. “Shai… Yer ‘generation rate is lame. Let us help.”
“Sides…” Wilf muttered gently. “Yer still drainin’ Papa… just a little.” He frowned with concern at the slumbering musician. “You can’t help it and he won’t stop you.”
“Wilf…” She whispered. “Aye, ye may help, but if ye start tae look peaked… Mind me or.. Or…!”
She stammered to a halt, lost in frustration. Shai reached deep within and tapped into that core memory every person who has ever been a child holds… From that racial root memory, she pulled out a well polished gem from ancient times:
“Mark me, children, an ye dinnae behave, I’ll wake yer Papa an turn this boat right round. See if’n we won’t.”
In the face of that, all three nodded soberly and resumed their practices, in the shade of their slumbering Papa. Shai held just a little shard of jealousy in her heart; a tiny, guilty needle of, ‘why not Mama?’, that soured her joy slightly.
She strangled that with prejudice, when Amy opened her eyes for a moment and whispered: “We can help, Mama Shai.”
#
“What an odd little boat… were they the pirates you mentioned, Kermal?” Gabbie asked with wonder in her voice, as they pulled away ahead.
“The very ones. We will meet them in port, no doubt.” He said with a smile. “They are quite colorful.”
“Ahh, yes they were well dressed. Is that the fashion in these lands?” She asked, eyeing her own attire.
“Lady Trelawny Belen is reliable in matters of hospitality and decorum, Gabbie. Your needs will be attended to, I am certain… for now, enjoy the casual dress code of shipboard smuggling and flight from the law! Skullduggery and espionage!” Kermal began pacing in excitement.
“I find that I quite like being in the know… There is an almost voyeuristic pleasure to being one step ahead of mighty forces, walking on the edge of utter ruin…”
“You are a romantic, squire Kermal…” Gabbie murmured happily.
“I’ve recently come into possession of a book, ‘Kim’, by Rudyard Kipling… A remarkable tale.” He said with a smile, as he pulled a thick, unremarkable tome from his coat pocket.
“It’s causing quite the stir in noble circles, despite some portions being nearly impenetrable, due to obscure foreign references. You should try it.”
He handed the book over to her with a smile that warmed her in a different way than Esperanza’s embrace did. She quite liked being ‘Gabbie, woman of mystery’... His remark about ‘voyeuristic pleasure’ struck a little close to home.
“Thank you, squire Kermal, I will certainly read it… I had no idea that literacy was held in high regard here.” She let her fingertips linger on his in a manner that would have given the court ladies fatal paroxysms of scandal induced thrombosis.
Her ladies maids would no doubt bleed from the eyes and ears, if they suspected she was dressing herself… almost entirely. Never mind what she was dressing herself in; though she still needed help tying her shoes.
Kermal, for his part, gave her fingertips a saucy little tickle as they parted… scandalous indeed! She watched him head aloft, quick and nimble as a batmonkey in the rigging. She watched him scurry and leap, fearlessly agile. He did things with ropes, swung down lines and generally looked to be having a fine time.
“Yes, he’s a fine and pretty boy, sister. Perhaps discreet inquiries can be made…” Esperanza whispered, as her pet fish bounced on his tail and laughed at her in the most remarkable way.
“Falco! Such talk is unseemly!” Gabbie snapped suddenly, ending the creature’s fun and games immediately.
#
Now that Dancinggirl and her adorable dryland brood were safely away, Falco was enjoying his peoples’ favorite pastime, saying rude things to humans, while performing tricks for them. Ranza’s new friend didn’t seem to appreciate the art. At her cry, he went from chittering happy obscenities at the twolegs, as his people always did, to sinking out of sight with a sorrowful and contrite sounding whistle of apology.
The number of dirt stompers that somehow possessed the power of civilized speech was getting difficult to manage! The salty, foulmouthed familiar resolved to keep it clean around these mudgrubbers… humans, going forward… at least until he was sure.
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
#
“Yes, sister… Falco is a sailor, first and foremost!” Esperanza looked over the side, where the aquatic rascal was lurking and listening. “Scat, reprobate! You shame this unworthy with such behavior, the shame of allowing such…” She moaned and clutched her ample bosom in distress. “Forgive this wretched one, sweet sister, her familiar is ever a tiresome brat.”
“He’s your… familiar… as if you were a Beast cultist?” She asked, in rising alarm. “Surely not!”
“Surely this one is.” She answered calmly. “The god of Beasts blessed this unworthy with Falco at the moment we drew first breath together.” Her frank and open expression invited questions and challenged her to pose them.
“This one senses that you are unContracted as yet, but probably soon. Fear not, these feelings are quite natural and normal.”
Involuntarily, she backed away a little. “Beast cultists commit unspeakable rites under the moon…”
“No sweet one, this one does practice ‘rites’, often beneath the moons… Yes, you see both moons as well, sister. This humble sailor’s ‘rites’ are consecrated to Joy, Beast, Marduk, Thirp and the spirits Air and Water.” She smiled again, inviting and challenging at once. “We are kin and Secret is no more, sister.”
Stunned by too much incoherent information, she tried to digest the fact that her new sister was apostate… and a Beast cultist… Yet her teeth were not filed sharp… Desperate, she grabbed at something else. “You said ‘Secret is no more’... you are not the first to say such, recently. What do you mean by that?” A bit of command crept into her voice, demanding obedience.
“Oh! Another reason for you to visit with little sister Amy! You are a songbird of some sort as well!” She chuckled and jiggled for a moment, before her smile slipped just a little. “Don’t be trying to influence or command this one on her vessel. That is an unsisterly thing to do.”
Her own aura of command crackled and seethed around her, sending a shiver down Gabbie’s spine.
“In any case, Yes, Secret is no more, supplanted by Marduk, the light of man’s reason. I have some literature, if you wish to know more…”
“I would… and you are a part of this herese…” She caught herself just in time. “...blasph… …cult?” She stumbled out of that dark perilous place, right into another.
“Indeed and another new cult as well, Thirp, She Who Spins in the Void, weaver of delights and secrets. You will find her catechism and cult regalia most enlightening!” Esperanza stood there at the helm, laughing.
Poor Gabbie sank onto a nearby bench, feeling like she had been trampled by a whole herd of fast moving heresies. Heresys? Anyway, it was a lot of balderdash! Yet… Esperanza stood there at the wheel, facing into the future and making things go her way… A simple sailor, but powerful in ways the empress had never considered.
Even in her unselfconscious and casual bathing and sleeping behavior, Ranza was utterly self possessed and her own damn woman.
That was something Gabriella Rex, empress of countless obedient souls, could never be… could never be permitted to be. Such a thing could never be allowed.
Suddenly, she saw her flight from the palace, not as a lark, or grand adventure, but a flight from almost certain death. She sat there, chewing on that bone and basking in the almost physical warmth Esperanza radiated… though no one else seemed to notice…
#
In the dark, airless confines of the barrel, Damsen could only listen and wait. She had overheard enough to know she was still bound for Wheatford… and had even heard her primary target’s name in passing! This was excellent! Once this Trelawny Belen was slain in a gruesome manner… something public perhaps? Her kin would scatter to the four winds, mortals always did. By a strict reading of her commands, she could find herself roaming the world almost unfettered for decades. Free to pursue these new songs, free to rebuild the College… So long as she continued hunting Belens. She might stretch it out for generations…
Those thoughts riffled through the strings of her harp, thankfully muffled in her garments, but the thrill of even that short scale of notes made her want to smile. She was just a few simple murders away. Best yet, these were nobles and indenture owners. Her favorite!
There was a certain joy in a well crafted murder, getting a little personal getback for her own slave auction was a little gift all its own. ‘Live by the slave, die by the slave… there’s a symmetry to that.’ She thought. ‘Soon…’
#
Gary woke up at sundown, as the moons came up. The kids were asleep, piled in around him, all his friends were wearing earcuffs and looking woozy, while Shai stood at the helm, swaying like she was about to drop.
He gave a quick check and found his pools all tippy top, so he reached out to his artifacts and snatched control gently away from the others. When their jewelry went inert, Tallum and Shai nearly collapsed with relief.
“I have this gang… thanks for the break. Don’t push yourselves so hard, it’s not healthy.” He scolded them gently.
He shook a pile of pillows and blankets out of his backside and soon, he was the only one awake, sailing by the light of the moons, with Xyll flitting along the River Road, singing her ultrasonic hymns to Joy and Beast.
He nosed Moonrise into that familiar, deep pool and quickly tied her up to the pier beneath the bridge. Under cover of darkness, he and Xyll danced their home into being, accompanied by nightbirds and the forest’s choir of bugs and critters. He doo-wapped and scatted his way through, ‘cause tonight was not about lyrics or instruments… It was about that feeling he got when his kids called him Papa.
He got the kids tucked in bed with Becky, then went back for Shai. The rest… They would need to help move each other. There was a lot of groaning and moaning, until they figured out that the bath was ready, then the ship evacuated quickly.
Gary and Shai wound up in the grotto alone, with the door securely closed.
#
After a long night and little sleep, things got off to a rough start, but after a run on the familiar trails and roads of home and a bath, everyone’s recovery seemed complete.
At spear practice at mid morning, Gary’s form was good enough that Shai had to struggle a little, before striking him a fifth and final time, ending the bout.
“I see much improvement… hae ye balanced out?” She asked, pulling up his sheet for herself rather than wait for an answer.
“Nae, almost… an ye get back in line, ye’ll be ready tae rank tae copper, me lad… Poor Shai lags behind thee!”
“It feels like there’s a storm, just over the horizon… waiting to sweep in and drown everything…” He murmured, looking off to the distant hills to the south.
Instead, Tony came calling from the north, across the bridge, from town. He held a wooden crate in his arms. It bothered Gary that his first thought was that it was child coffin sized… he needed a different line of work.
“Tony…” He greeted, from his hammock on the porch. “Last day of vacation, but I’m still on strike. What brings you down to the worker’s paradise? Come to cast off your trappings of wealth and privilege and join the movement?”
“No, I’ve come with something you can’t resist… a clue and a magical object. Well, two magical objects.” The big knight said with a grin.
“I’m not a child you can distract with a shiny… are those gold?” While Gary was complaining, Tony had opened the box and drawn out a pair of golden war scythes, gleaming redly in the morning sun.
He rolled out of his hammock and joined the knight at the garden table he’d commandeered. The weapons were a matched pair, with grips of checked rosewood and bronze. The blades held an edge so keen it brought a smile to his face, until he touched one with a bare hand.
*warning* Cursed *warning*
Blood Harvest, cursed Contract weapon. Inert.
*warning* Cursed *warning*
The list of afflictions it could lay on anyone struck with the business end was pretty grim, but the control and dominance spells built into the Contract were disgusting. These things made his snake club look like a nerf sword.
Fortunately, they were shoddy manufacture, only one contract and done.
No other soul could be shackled to these, once the unfortunate owner slipped free finally. Something told him at a touch, that some poor bastard had been bound to these for an awfully long time.
Also in the box was a ragged and water stained cloak, robe and veil, in Oddsman’s blue and a small pile of jet black, shiny sand. It gleamed like a handful of miniature cut gems, rather than simple sand. The robes were what he expected, when he laid a finger on them.
Master’s robe, enchanted garment, spiritual enchantment.
Effect: when worn with the ‘Masters veil’, all identifying features of voice, aura and scent will be obfuscated.
That was a common setup for every guild, any wizard with a talent for enchanting could knock them out with the help of a decent tailor in half a week… tradition played as much a role in their effectiveness as the weak enchantment did. The people were conditioned to not even try to look beyond the disguise… just another layer of complicated bullshittery to wade through. The sand was more interesting.
Jet Sand, enchanted array, noncontiguous phylactery, Etheric enchantment, non-localized, semi autonomous. Null/Null Insufficient mass. Null/Null Phylactery vacant, soul required. Sacrifice suitable sentient.
“Well what’s this? Phylactery? A soul binding enchantment in a multitude of…” He was murmuring to himself and leaning over the objects, lost to the world.
Tony rose and walked away. “I’ll be back for an update tomorrow Gary.”
#
The long ride up the coast to the Belen River road went uneventfully, once they slipped through the outskirts of Port Fallon and across a little known path to join the River Road after the causeway. It added a few miles to the route, but saved any awkward questions from any nosey gate guards or customs men.
They kept up a good clip through the foggy morning, with Wheatford’s lights glowing softly in the distance, when evening fell. The dryad continued tending her prisoner with firm and unflinching motherliness. She managed the man as though he were an infant, allowing neither resistance nor escape.
They had pushed on almost too long, in their eagerness to get home. Willow took her prisoner for his walkies, while Carlos and Jerry worked together to set up camp. It was a shame, but they would hit town bright and early tomorrow. The prisoner still refused to speak or even give his name… he simply followed instructions and glared.
“Perhaps I will keep him after all…” She mumbled. “It’s not like he wasn’t already a slave.” She grumbled, When both of her friends turned shocked glares on her together.
“He did try to murder me without so much as a ‘pardon my knives’!” Willow sulked and grumbled as she fed her pet and put him to bed, snugly sewn into a basket hammock of her tree fronds.
He would be Order’s problem in the morning.
#
Emma and Frank were at the palace for dinner, bringing a lively and festive mood to the evening. Young lord Pangbourne was so smitten by lady Fernlowe, he seemed a new man. He smiled, laughed, poured the splendid wine he’d brought and told tales of derring do that seemed unbelievable.
“…ninety feet tall at least and hurling mummified wights at any living thing it espied! And the filth it shrieked into the sky!” Emma gasped and quaked beside him, as though she had not been there for the events, wearing an armored gown. The woman was an absolute jewel.
#
Emma took the conversation in hand a little later, relating the sad tale of her maid’s unfortunate ending. Frank sighed and cooed in sympathy at all the right points, helping her gloss over some troubling truths for politeness’s sake, the man was a treasure.
“...that was when I decided to come ask Emma to marry me. If it weren’t for that strolling minstrel, I’d probably still be sitting on my hands.” Frank mumbled happily.
Paisley laughed and shot tea out of her nose, while making a rude gesture and giggling something about ‘The Stranger,’ that no one else understood.
While she tidied herself up, with help from Patricia, duke Belen raised an eyebrow at Frank. “Wandering minstrel? Tell me more, lord Frank.”
“She called herself Damsen, of the College of Bards, or some such foreign guild. I asked if she knew your Gary, since her music reminded me of his… She claimed not to know of him.” He frowned as though puzzled by something half remembered.
“Was she looking for lady Trelawny…? Yes, she claimed to have business with her ladyship. Why was that so difficult to remember…” He glanced over to Paisley, who had apparently fallen asleep, with her eyes open.
Her mouth was also open and drooling mindlessly. The young lord leapt from his seat and dashed across the table to his younger sister, scattering dishes and spilling the wine.
Duchess Celeste beat him there, moving with sinuous grace and frightening economy of movement. Even in his distress, he wondered briefly which of the two parents had taught Rolf his dangerous martial skills.
“Be calm, Frank… I have seen this before, she has been affected by a mind dulling or controlling spell. This is the residue, of that, no doubt triggered by your mention of this ‘Damsen’ and her search for my daughter.” The duchess spoke with an air of command and authority that allowed no backtalk, so he sat down and let her tend his sister in peace.
#
Damsen felt the ship finally stop and overheard the passengers chattering as they readied to disembark, nothing important to her. Their plans to visit a nearby inn were uninteresting, save that she would be unobserved as she made her escape through the loose stopper in the barrel… A stopper that seemed to have become significantly less loose.
She struggled and flailed as wildly as she could, while neatly packed in a barrel. She would have to wait… wait for an opportunity.
#
“Ranza ferried us across to Port Ellis, we rode up, while she sailed for Port Clement… It was very exciting!” Angie cooed and chattered in the bath. Poor Rolf had Angie on one side, Esperanza on the other, Ester gloating and making snide comments from nearby and the rest of the Bathers watching the show with amusement, while Angie told the tale.
Their journey up the River Road in fine, foggy spring weather was pretty uneventful, for those not completely in love with Rolf. It was the way Rolf squirmed and writhed, when she pressed up against him, smushing the young knight against an eminently squishable Esperanza. He looked like he might explode.
Khan and Luna were across the pool, pretending not to notice the show, while quietly enjoying some alone time.
#
Down in the workshop, Gary had the two golden scythes pegged up on the wall as he poured over every minute detail of their odd and disturbing enchantments. “The trap was hidden, until the poor sod Contracted them, then it snapped closed forever… There seems to be a controlling entity, an outsider…”
“So that was a human, in those robes?” Tony asked, while Filly and Adele took careful notes in silence.
“A human soul… no body, the body would be somewhere else… This shit is dark, but it’s pretty straightforward. Yeah, demonic control Contract, it’s all dominance and compulsion.” He murmured his nonsense over the shiny artifacts and small vial of black, glittering sand.
“Are there more of these creatures out there?” Tony Demanded firmly, breaking the musician’s reverie.
“Huh? Oh, yeah! Bank on it. Once these guys learn a trick, they roll it till the wheels fall off. Whoever made these probably made several.” He mused. “They feel kinda mass produced, like your hexed underwear. They aren’t individual pieces; they’re workmanlike, not artistic.”
“Do you have any insights into this threat? A man was slain by this thing.” Tony insisted.
“If I meet a live one, I’ll learn more… for now, I’d say immersing it in water disrupted it, so… that’s something. Rain probably wouldn’t do it.” He mumbled, lost in the objects again.
#