The Ambassador's Son RPG

[maikafanawen]

It was turning out to be quite the evening with a pink sunset and a good steady wind to keep them on their course. Avershire had set aside his charts, graphs, and maps to go in search of his first mate and see how things were coming as far as repairs and the like. He mounted the stairs leading to the deck where the fresh air greeted him after his four-hour seclusion amongst his records. The sailors gathered thereabouts tipped their hats to him or those without caps saluted in the seafaring way when the captain, or any officer passed.

Captain Avershire made a show of patrolling the decks and inspecting the rigging and all repair work that had been done. He was very pleased with the progress until he got to one section of the ship where about ten feet of railing was missing and nothing was there to stop anyone from falling overboard. A small mechanism of rope and pulleys were strung up each side of where the railing ended and began again. Lashed to a pair of railing posts was a canvas raft roughly stitched together with twine and extending from two holes punched in one end was about fifty yards of tough rope. Avershire shook his head and checked the knots holding the 'safety precaution' in place.

"It'll have to do," Meri said coming around. Then she chuckled. "It sure is a funny thing having only half a mast to climb instead of three."

Avershire stood and rubbed vigorously at his brow. "We're out of our minds Loliway."

Meri glowed. Whenever he called her 'Loliway' they were back in the early days when she had first signed on with him. When he had tried his best to shut her out of the heavy work and she had done everything she could to spite him. And then when he realized that he was falling in love with her and she had a fun time of it avoiding his advances. Until he was nearly killed in a battle, of course, and she spent nights without end at his side until he recovered. They were nigh inseparable after that. And she was still with him today.

"Out of our bloody minds..." he mumbled again. "Have we ever commandeered a boat so small with a crew so short up against such odds?"

Meri cocked her head in thought and then nodded slowly. "Yes... in a way."

"Aww..." Avershire protested, waving aside what she was going to say.

"No, we have. When you had to go out for the appeal against your position by that dirty traitor, may he rot in death, it was just the two of us riding a small defense, with few allies up against the whole of the presiding Gondorian government. And you may not have been made king--"

"--or Commodore--"

"--hush. But you still are a Captain, still able to command, and still alive. That counts for something, yes?" The man shrugged her hand off his shoulder and pulled at his stubble of beard. "Don't give me that!" she shouted and jumped up to wrap her arms around his neck and plant a good kiss square on his mouth. Sputtering and pushing a laughing first mate away, Avershire, his face red as a beet, stomped off to see the rest of the ship.

"I expect you'll be getting a day or two in the brig for that and twenty or so lashes?" Meri turned at the unfamiliar voice. It was the Gondorian, Telson -----. She shrugged.

"That doesn't sound too bad." Telson nodded, smiling slightly. Meri didn't notice the bags under the man's eyes or the greenish tint to his face. All she saw was an inner enigma that seemed to escape from the folds of his worn clothes and from the ends of his sin-dark hair. It was chilling to look at him, but her curiosity wanted to keep him there. She knew next to nothing about him, and was worried about his origins. Why Avershire had let such a mysterious man aboard their ship escaped her. The scholar, Pearlle, had explained that men such as these knew what was most important about each other to the point where nothing else mattered. Not their past, nor their desires, just their intents for the present and if they intersected to benefit each other some time in the future.

"Say, I was looking for Cook, you haven't seen him have you?" Meri looked at him sideways, her right eyebrow raised.

"He's not in the galley?" The man shook his head. "Hmm, perhaps the forecastle?" Telson rubbed his forehead and fidgeted in his pocket.

"Could you... direct me...." Meri nodded and led him to the door leading to where he wanted to go and opened it for him, yelling up for the Cook who answered with a rushed and questionable, 'Aye! What? Whaddya want!?'

"There ye go," she said stepping aside. "And if you're for the licorice root," she added, "you might want to bring some down for the other three, just in case."

"Licorice root!" and he slammed the door.

* * * * *

Three bells after midwatch had begun, Meri was pacing the deck, knocking a drowsy Devon with the toe of her boot.

"You must be dreaming about sewing," she whispered warningly. The man jumped to his feet, and saluted her respectfully before peering out across the water. There was no fog, the stars were bright, but the lack of moon kept people wary and even the places in the night that were darker than others seemed to be ships bearing the fate of the North Wind.

One shape, however, got more solid as the sloop neared it. And soon one could make out the lights in the windows and the lanterns hanging from the masts. The man in the crow's nest jerked to a start and shouted below: "Sail ho!"

Meri snapped her head around and ran to the man who was scurrying down the mast. "Where away?" she demanded. He pointed. "Four points of the port bow."

"Creedy my glass if you please." The small cabin boy rushed to her and handed her the fine, leather-encased telescope. She extended it and set it to her eye. "Shades," she whispered. Then to the look out, "Get the captain and drum to the ready all men on deck!"

So began the first battle in the defense of a Gondorian-Umbar.