Standing at the head of the landing boat as she was rowed through the standing stones sometimes called Jibiril’s Teeth, Captain Erminea Galatea Kleinhoff of the Gryphon's Wings watched as the completely useless bay resolved itself from the last shadows of night as the sun lazily started its day far off to the east. An otherwise large natural bay was made useless by dark granite and basalt teeth rising from the waters of the bay, many of them to the height of ships’ masts, and none of them more slender than three broad strides where they met the waterline.
Behind her, Rhinge, Melchie, Talley and Horst pulled diligently and steadily at the oars as she stood watching the lights of the small town bob nearer. Gryphon’s Wings, her great swooping lines now obscured by the dark stone teeth they had already passed through, now lay at anchor behind her beyond the stone Teeth, and she felt naked and exposed.
She hated this errand her father had commanded her to perform. It should have been beneath his daughter to deliver a message to a client. It should have been a chore he set one of his newer captains to attend. Erm may have been younger than all of the other captains in his fleet, but she was by no means the newest of them.
He had told her that THIS client would need a show of the Old Man’s favor to reassure this client. This job would be a long term contract that would change how the Admiral did business going forward, and he had assured Erm, his favorite child, that only she would do to confirm the details and sign the paperwork on this contract.
It was demeaning. Or so Erm thought. And that idea put her on edge. Not being able to look back from the dock and see her Gryphon set her teeth on edge. And now, as the dock approached, she could see a contingent of Rhianian soldiers lining the gray wooden structure as her boat pulled up. She had been expected, at least to some extent.
One of the soldiers had more frippery on his shoulders than the others, and Erm supposed he was in charge, and the soldier she would have to talk to first, before she could be ushered into the august presence of this Prince-what’s-his-name-somesuchthing.
Putting on her best disarming smile, she beamed at the soldier, a man of middling years, as her men shipped their oars and then threw ropes to two of the waiting soldiers on the dock. The men in green tabards caught the ropes with a confident economy of motion that told Erminea that they did this enough to be competent. Probably local boys, who grew up on these docks, heavy armor and swords or no, they’re sailors who never took to sea… the poor bastards… she thought.
“Hello, the Dock! Captain Erminea of the Gryphon’s Wings. Permission to land?” She smiled broadly at the man she assumed was in charge.
The older man scowled at her around a bulbous nose and from between improbably bushy gray mutton chop sideburns. “Well, Captain, I don't recognise the name of your vessel, and our men in the tower say she is a warship, flying colors we don’t recognise, so I will have some questions for you before we can allow you to unload any cargo, or land your crew for… leave.”
He had stressed her title, which some men always just insisted upon doing, as if she didn’t know how to pronounce her own title. She knew that type of man well enough, and had sent several of them to the floor of the Great Eastern Sea. This one had a mild palsy in his right hand where it sat on his belt next to the hilt of a wide short bladed sword much like those worn by the men standing at attention all around him.
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He had also stressed the words “cargo” and “leave.”
Erm blinked slowly at the man, accentuating her wide eyes with a look of good natured, if feigned, wonder, and waited.
And the old soldier looked at her expectantly.
This standoff lasted until the man finally said, “And what do you have to say for yourself… Captain?”
“I’m still waiting on those questions you mentioned, sir.” She could play obstinate just as well as he could.
“Oh!” The man looked honestly confused for a moment, before he gathered himself, and focused his eyes on her face. “Ah, yes. Ahrmm. Indeed.” He puffed and spluttered for another moment, and then said, simply, “What brings you to Jibiril Keep, Captain?”
Erminea gave a brief, but sweeping, bow, and told the older man, “I am here to represent the interests of Admiral Earstov Ekino Kleinhoff in negotiations with your Prince for a set of specific services he has requested of my father.”
The man looked crestfallen, and slightly sad with her announcement. “My dear… uh, Captain. Please forgive me. We at the garrison were not told to expect you, and there has been a recent issue that has drawn Prince Myrl away from the Keep on Royal business.”
Erm reset her smile, and gave the surrounding town that crawls around her up the cliff face to the obvious walls of the keep above the bay. “Well, when should I expect his return, then? And do you have an inn where I and my men might rent some rooms to rest while we await his Royal Highness?” She was doing her best to keep her tone light, and wanted to not antagonize the soldier who stood between her party and the rest of the docks.
“Well, captain, now that is the problem. His Majesty is headed for Ghlow. He is headed to the Royal Palace, and to be crowned.”
Erminea Galatea Kleinhoff, Captain of the most beautiful and deadly ship on three Seas, the Pride of her father’s fleet, and the woman who some men called The Swan of Swords and Blood, stood on the docks of Jibiril Bay very early in the morning, and felt her smile cracking the edges of her face as her composure eroded beneath a wave of frustration.
“You don’t say?”
“I do, captain. I am sorry to see you have wasted a trip here to see a man now headed to a city on the other coast to the South.” He left it hanging there. Another coast. She knew were Ghlow was. Every captain of any seagoing ship knew where Ghlow was.
"I see." She said, her teeth never separating.
She had been standing on the docks of Ghlow a season ago.
And now.
“Rhinge, Melchie, Talley, Horst!” She barked, the smile never leaving her face. In fact, her smile was even broader now, as she slowly turned back to her landing boat, her blue coat edged in gold flaring slightly as she turned. Her men looked at her with stern faced attention. Not one of them grimacing at the uncomfortably contorted grimace they now saw on their captain's face as she ordered the four men to cast off, and head back to the Gryphon.
She turned back to the soldiers on the dock, and gave a bow. “Thank you, gentlemen. Sorry to have bothered you.” With that, she swept a bow, and turned gracefully to step back into the prow of her boat, resting her hand upon the head of the carved Gryphon Head that protruded up to the height of her shoulder.