10 – A Fated Encounter
The steam-powered cargo ship was a big vessel, though not nearly as large as a cruise ship Ward had once spent two summertime weeks on as it traversed the Caribbean. The captain himself met with them near the end of the busy gangplank as his men carried and wheeled crates and barrels aboard the vessel, taking them below decks to, presumably, a very large cargo hold.
The captain was a grizzled, swarthy man who wore a well-stained blue uniform jacket over a sweat-soaked linen shirt. When Ward and Haley approached him, he tilted up the brim of his tricorn hat and eyed them both appraisingly. “What’s this, then?” His gaze drifted to their packs, and his lips pursed slightly as he began to nod. “Seeking passenger berths? Won’t come cheap at this late hour.”
“Really?” Ward put his hands on his hips and turned to regard the big metal vessel. The paint was worn through all along the hull, and he saw great streaks of rust, even up on the towering steam stacks. “I’d think you’d be glad to make a few glories for your empty cabins before you left port.”
“Well, my cabins ain’t empty. Oh, aye, I can make room for ye, but it's like to be more trouble than it’s worth.”
Grace had made herself scarce as they approached the large milling crowds on the docks, but Ward could imagine what she’d say—something about the guy trying to drive a hard bargain, but that Ward should stick to their plan. He glanced at Haley, and she shrugged, playing her part well. “We understand, sir. Thank you for your trouble.” She turned to leave, and Ward just shrugged at the captain and followed suit.
“Now, ‘old on a minute. As I said, I could clear a space for you.”
“Oh, if it’ll mean trouble for you, don’t worry, Captain.” Ward smiled and gestured toward the city. “We’ll get a room and wait for a passenger liner.”
“Nah, nah!” He waved his hand, motioning for Ward to come closer, “You’re all packed up! Miss, please come over here, and we can discuss a berth for you.”
Haley, already several steps away, turned and looked at Ward. He nodded and clapped the captain on the shoulder. “Let’s see what the good captain can offer.”
Haley frowned, peering out of her deep cowl as she adjusted her backpack straps. “I quite enjoyed our inn, Ward. I wouldn’t mind another day of rest.”
“Nah, you don’t want to wait around here, miss! My Bounty—she’s a sturdy vessel, and I know all the best sea lanes at this time of year. We’ve got winter storms blowing in, and some of them passenger liners are captained by men more accustomed to a fine dinner than a rough night on the sea. Trust me, you’re better off on this solid old girl.” He turned to Ward. “Ward, was it?”
“That’s right, Captain…”
“LeGrande, but you can call me Captain Lemon, as I earned that monicker when I brought the world’s largest citrus harvest up from Fona Vie just a few years back. I’m practically a legend around these parts!” He turned to some deckhands hauling a precarious-looking oblong crate up the gangway. “Careful, you sods! That’s going to tip off to the side if you don’t turn it!”
“What kind of fee—” Ward started to ask, but the captain spoke over him.
“I’ll transport you to Westview for a hundred glories each, and you’ll be welcome at my table for dinner each evening.”
Ward smiled inwardly at the man’s considerable change in tone. He glanced at Haley questioningly. She stepped a little closer and pulled her hood back, squinting into the gray, overcast sunlight. “How many days?”
“Betwixt seven and ten, depending on the weather.”
Haley looked at Ward and nodded. He smiled and clapped the captain’s shoulder again. “Sounds good to us, Captain Lemon.”
“Right.” He nodded, scanning the men working behind Ward, then hollered, “Peter, get over here!”
A young man wearing nothing but knee-length trousers on his wiry, well-tanned body dropped a sack of grain onto a pallet and jogged over, his bare feet padding on the boardwalk planks. “Captain, sir?”
“Take these two dandies aboard and show ‘em to the passenger cabins. Tell Ronny he ain’t gonna have a cabin after all and that he best make himself comfortable in the hold with you and the other lads.”
“Aye, Captain!” The youngster stood straight and jammed his fists down by his hips in an odd sort of salute, then started up the side of the wide gangway. “This way, folks!”
“Just a minute, lad,” the captain said, turning to Ward. “There’s the small matter of the payment—”
“I’ve got it here.” Haley stepped close with her pale hand outstretched. The captain took two golden, one-hundred-glory coins from her and smiled as he bit into one of them. “I do love the glint of gold. Very well! Enjoy the voyage, and I’ll be sure one of the lads invites you when dinner’s put on.”
Ward nodded, and he and Haley followed Peter up the gangway, carefully giving the porters and deckhands plenty of room. They had to stop twice to lean against the railing, waiting as the hands tugged a large piece of cargo aboard. Peter guided them toward the bow, and Ward took in the large, open deck, wondering if the sailors would strap cargo up there, too, or only in the hold. “Do you all put cargo on deck, or are the storms too rough?”
“We’ll strap some sturdy crates and barrels up there, sir.”
As they followed Peter through a doorway and down a short flight of steps into a corridor labeled “Passenger Cabins,” Haley asked, “Are there other passengers?”
“Aye, miss. We’ve quite a few on this run. Don’t worry, though, ‘cause Captain’s giving you the room Ronny tried to reserve, and it’s one of the better ones.”
Haley glanced at Ward, and he shrugged, grinning. He didn’t imagine Ronny would be happy, but it also seemed like the situation wasn’t anything new. He imagined the captain allowed some of his higher-ranking deckhands to claim a passenger cabin if they didn’t sell out. They walked down the long corridor, past metallic bulkhead-style doors, until they reached the last one on the left.
“Here’s your room, folks. Feel free to wander around the deck, but Captain don’t like passengers poking around below decks. You’ll find the head down that corridor on the right.” He looked at Haley, his eyes tracking up and down a little too hungrily for Ward’s taste, before he added, “O’ course, there’s a ladies’ room too, just on the other side of the corridor. Don’t worry, ‘cause Captain would have the hide off any of us dirty rats who might use it when we got lady passengers aboard.”
Ward grasped the slender man’s very tan, naked shoulder and steered him away from the door, giving him a bit of a shove down the hallway. “Thanks, Peter. We’re good now.” He stared at the man until he nodded and hurried away, jogging barefoot toward the exit.
“I wonder if I’m the only woman aboard,” Haley said as Ward twisted the wheel to open their door.
Grace appeared beside Ward. “Nope! I’m here!”
“Thanks, Grace, but it’s not the same, considering none of the crew can stare at you.”
Ward tuned them out, pushing the door open and stepping into their cabin. It wasn’t exactly spacious, but at least it had two bunks, and it didn’t look like the crew members who had intended to stay there had moved in yet. The bunks on either side of the room were occupied by bare, gray, and white striped mattresses, and a single large trunk sat under a porthole-style window. Haley stepped past him and opened the trunk.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Linens.”
“Well, that’s good. I mean, assuming they’re clean. Are they?”
Haley picked up a thin gray blanket and sniffed it. “Seems so!”
“Makes me feel a little better about the ship; I’d have expected to find rats and lice-ridden blankets.” Ward took his hat off and hung it on a hook beside the door, then he and Haley spent a little time unpacking and setting up their bunks.
Reclining on his bunk, Ward looked over at Haley. “So, looks like this’ll be home for about a week, eh?”
“Yes. If we don’t sink.” Haley’s tone had taken a definite turn for the gloomy since they’d returned to town.
Ward tried to brighten her outlook a little. “I think the fact that the ship looks old and well-used is good. It means it’s made a lot of voyages safely.”
“I suppose,” she sighed.
Grace, sitting at the foot of Haley’s bunk, leaned over her and stared into her eyes. “You should find a place to exercise on the deck, Haley. It’s been hours since you did your forms.”
When Haley closed her eyes and made a disinterested grunt, Ward sat up and reached across the little space to jostle her knee. “Come on. I’ll walk with you and keep you company. You know, chase away the leering crew and whatnot.”
Haley sighed explosively, then, with a whining groan, sat up. “Fine. If you two are going to pester me constantly, I might as well.”
“That’s the spirit!” Grace clapped.
Ward grabbed his hat and gave Blazewitch, sitting atop their trunk, a long look. “Think I need to bring that? You think this room is secure?”
“There’s a key here, Ward.” Grace pointed to a large brass key hanging on a hook next to the door jamb.
“Oh! Didn’t notice it.”
“Yes, you did—”
“Or Grace couldn’t have seen it,” Haley finished, deadpan.
“Tough crowd.” Ward grabbed the key, slipping it into his pocket. “Let’s go, ladies.” After locking up the cabin, he led the way back outside and asked a passing crew member the best area of the deck to get some sun and exercise.
He pointed to the rear of the ship and said, “Quarter deck.”
“Is that the, uh, very back?” Ward asked.
“Aye, sir. Almost all the way aft, raised up behind the captain’s castle, mid-ship. Just this side of the rear steam stacks.”
“Thanks.” Ward led the way, watching the activity on the gangway as they passed by, noting that the boardwalk pier was still stacked with cargo that needed to be loaded. “They’ll be at it for hours.” Grace was gone, and Haley apparently didn’t feel like talking, so Ward filled the silence as they went, “I wish I had something good to read. I should’ve stopped at a bookshop.” Again, Haley didn’t respond, so he shrugged and muttered, “Maybe the captain or another passenger has a book I can borrow.”
The ship’s deck had a waist-high metal railing, and they stuck close to it, wending around what must have been the “captain’s castle.” It was a tall section of the ship with a high, open viewing area where Ward figured the ship’s bridge would be. Around the back of that, they climbed a short set of stairs and, just as the crewman had promised, came upon a wide area of decking with little crew activity. The sun was hiding behind gray clouds, but the diffuse light still felt warm to Ward. He shrugged out of his coat, using it as a cushion as he sat down to watch Haley go through her forms.
Haley, squinting and grumbling, took off her cloak and handed it to Ward, and he folded it onto his lap. Leaning back against the portside railing, he closed his eyes and tilted his hat brim down, soaking in the diffuse sun rays. After a while, he grew suspicious about Grace’s lack of commentary, but when he looked around, he saw her sitting in the shade of the aft steam stacks, intently watching Haley. “Figure’s,” he muttered, then pulled his hat down again.
He could hear Haley practicing—her fists and feet snapping out in punches and kicks and her sharp, controlled breaths—and the rhythm of those sounds began to lull him into a midday doze. He was that way, half asleep, when he felt the presence of someone nearby, but his lulled mind figured it was just Grace or a crew member walking by. Then a feminine voice he was sure he’d heard before spoke, “I thought you looked familiar, though your clothes are a good deal nicer than the last time I saw you.”
Ward tilted his hat and peered up at the woman standing over him. She wore a soft-looking deep blue skirt, a frilly, button-up white blouse, and a very wide-brimmed, floppy felt hat. In the shadows of that hat, her eyes immediately brought his recollection into crystal clarity; it was Lisa, the sorceress he’d briefly met in the Tarnish catacombs. Putting his memory to the test, he said, “Lisa?”
“You remembered! It’s Ward, isn’t it? May I?” She gestured to the deck beside him.
“Yeah, sure.” Ward sat up a little straighter, shifting so he could watch her gracefully sit down, folding her legs to one side. “Are you a passenger?”
She nodded emphatically. “I am! Bound for Westview. Don’t tell me you’re going to the challenge there, too?”
Ward nodded toward Haley, who was still practicing furiously, her body radiating waves of heat into the air around her. “We haven’t decided yet. We’ll be taking a ship to…” Ward frowned, his mind blanking at the name of the next world. After a second, it clicked, and he quickly added, “Springsea. The next world, I guess.”
“Oh? That’s exciting! Have you already secured passage?”
He sighed, shaking his head. “Nah. We’re probably going to have to pay through the teeth.”
“I’m afraid you may be right. One of the reasons I’m going to Westview is to be present for the auctions. You stand a much better chance of a reasonable price if you’re present and not buying from a third party.”
Ward nodded as though he knew what she meant. He tried to fish for a little more info, “Yeah, but how often are the auctions?”
“Once a month! However, the tickets auctioned are for the next month, which means—”
“You’re stuck in the city for at least a couple of months.”
“Right—assuming you win an auction. As you said, if you have plenty of money, you can buy from one of the brokers and leave much sooner.” She chuckled, reaching up to adjust her floppy, pale-blue hat. “I’m not in that category.”
“Yeah,” Ward sighed. He didn’t want to let on that Haley had so many glories, so he just shrugged. “We’ll probably need to work around the city to earn some money. Might be smart to just wait for one of those auctions.”
“Well, then, you really ought to think about trying the Westview Spire.”
Ward narrowed his eyes and, after a moment’s contemplation, decided to stop pretending like he knew more than he did. “Is that the challenge?”
“Yes! It’s quite different from the catacombs, I hear—more predictable and both safer and more deadly.”
“Heh, are you trying to speak in riddles? Is that something sorcerers do? Should I be practicing?”
Lisa laughed, and Ward liked the sound of it; it was almost musical—a giggle that started in the back of her throat and seemed to get higher-pitched as it trilled out of her mouth. “I suppose I did sound cryptic, didn’t I? Let me try again. The Spire is a tower challenge; each challenger or party of challengers starts at the bottom, climbing a stairway that uses spatial or teleportation magic to separate them into their own…version of the challenge. Each level will contain a battle or a puzzle, and they’re supposed to get harder as you progress upwards.”
“So why is it ‘both safer and more deadly’?”
“Safer because you can leave at any level; walking down any stairway will send you back to the entrance chamber. More deadly because the puzzles contain traps, and the battles are life-or-death from the start.”
“You can leave at any time?”
She nodded but held up her finger as she clarified, “Only after completing the challenge on each floor. The stairs won’t…work until you clear the room.”
Listening to her, Ward was beginning to feel excited, not about the topic of the conversation—he wasn’t sure he wanted to do another challenge yet—but about the prospect of having a friendly, knowledgeable “sorceress” on the ship with them. He said as much, “What a nice surprise to find out you're on this ship! It seems almost too unlikely to be a coincidence.”
“Not so unlikely! For people on the Road, Westview is the best place to go after Tarnish. There are other challenges on this side of the sea, but they’re even more unpredictable than the catacombs and require long, overland journeys. Besides, I feel like this may be a fated encounter.” She smiled, and Ward found her sure, upbeat tone convincing enough. In his old line of work, he gave his gut a lot of credit when it came to sniffing out sketchy characters, and he wasn’t feeling anything off about Lisa.
“Well, whatever the likelihood, seeing you again is nice.”
Lisa smiled and nodded. “I think I saw you and your friend boarding the vessel. Was that a sword on your hip?”
Ward reflexively patted his belt, feeling for Haley’s sword, but he’d left it tucked under his bunk in their cabin. “Yeah, that’s right.”
“That’s wonderful! We’ll have so much time on our hands during the voyage, and I’ve been looking for a sparring partner! What do you say?”
“Oh? You use a sword?”
She laughed and shook her head, blushing a little. “I took it up after the catacombs. I’ve been taking lessons in Port Granite, but I’ve much to learn.”
“Seriously? Because I don’t know shit about it. That sword was Haley’s,” Ward nodded to her, still ignoring them, snapping her fists in a series of lightning-fast jabs, “but she can’t use it with her Gopah, so she gave it to me. I mean to use—it’s still hers.”
“Well, if you’re interested, I’d love to try to help you and myself in the process. It looked like a broadsword, and I use a rapier, but several students in my instructor’s class had swords like yours. I can share some of the skills we practiced together—footwork, positioning, timing, and several types of strokes, parries, and ripostes. I listened to him instructing those other men quite a lot, and I think I could help you with some of the heavier slashing and chopping attacks that aren’t suitable for my rapier.”
Ward smiled, nodding. “I’d like that.”
“Well?” Lisa gracefully rose to her feet, not even using the handrail to help herself up. “Why not start now? We’ve a few hours until we depart, and I don’t think it’s fair for your partner to do all the hard work!”
Ward laughed, gripped the railing, and hauled himself up. “Let's do it.”
Lisa smiled up at him, her green eyes glimmering in the shadows of her hat. “If we work well together, Ward, perhaps we should consider another sort of trade.” She winked and said, very softly, “I mean words.”
Ward nodded. “Now you’re speaking my language.”