All at Sea (To Walk the Path 5)
By Paul Smith.
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All at Sea (To Walk the Path 5)
Paul Smith
Copyright 2014 Paul Smith
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to people, places or events is purely coincidental, and bears no malicious intent.
ISBN: 9781311876416
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'Blood from a stone...'
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Author's note:
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Thank you.
5: All at Sea.
Timo looked out at the moonlit waters. It was freezing at the ship's rail but, unusually for this time of year, the waters of the Arc were calm. No storms down from Isklar to batter their coastlines.
Sleepers must be doing their job, he mused, smiling at the memory of Ikari and Deliana rehearsing what was obviously a long running argument between them in the commons one night. Ikari had taken him to see one of the statues the next day, down on the shores of Faeron. He'd found the squat figure peaceful, content even, which is an odd thing to say about a block of stone larger than your average shed. The Nym was still adamant the things gave him the creeps. More so apparently, since seeing one in the dream Suchain left him via the meme.
“Will it cramp your style if I join you?”
Timo looked up at the Skuigr, smiling beneath his hood. “I should be asking you the same thing.”
The Isshjarta waved the flattery overboard with an easy grin. “I'm well aware of the way the boys watch me, yes. But it is you they pine for in their secret hearts.”
The young man from the Vales raised an eyebrow at that. “In their secret hearts?”
Grifarne grimaced. “I'm a sorcerer, not a poet. Pretty words were not in the entrance exam. Not unless they bent reality, at any rate.”
Timo nodded. “Aye, so I'm gathering.”
“And gathering well.” Grifarne gestured at him. “I don't think I've ever met anyone as intuitive as you. You pick up things in days that it took me months to learn.”
“Yeah, well, I do have some rather nifty ice to help.”
But the brusque northerner was shaking his head. “It's more than that. You're a natural. Yes, that off world stuff the thorns gave you lends a certain advantage, But no alien tech can entirely be responsible for what you have accomplished.” He glanced about them, eyes turning pointedly to lanterns in the rigging above, on the deck at discreet distances. “And such accomplishments carry weight in the eyes of others.”
Timo shrugged. “I do what I must, what we all must, if we want to see this through.”
Grifarne nodded. “Yes, you do at that. I just worry that at the fulcrum...”
“I'm not going to do anything stupid, if that's what you're driving at.” Timo scowled at him. “God, everyone's so… grrr!” He let the growl loose, smothering its tail and slowly forcing himself to unclench his fists. Took a couple of breaths before turning to face the patient northerner again. “Yes, it's true, I'm in mourning for Kir. Who wouldn't be?! The Chi had been with me since I was old enough to be trusted with a flock on my own. I lost a friend that day, and I wasn't even there to see it. To stand with him!”
“There was nothing you could have done.”
Timo nodded. “Then. Now though… and that's what's so frustrating! To be given the gift after it's really worth while!”
“Kirigama wouldn't have seen it like that.”
That brought him up short. He knew his words, his feelings, would have been considered unworthy by the Drake. It was part of the reason he'd kept them to himself for the most part. Ikari was the only other who'd managed to prise them loose. He suspected Rivan might have had similar luck (if you could call it that), but the Naysmith was a busy man and it'd seemed churlish and, yes, unworthy of him to waste what time they got together on such childishness.
He found himself wondering now whether the Nym had put the Skuigr up to this. Though under the circumstances it might just be the northerner's own concerns talking. They would, after all, be going into battle together. He'd want to know the man beside him had his back.
Sighing, he turned to the former Isshjarta, who'd been filling his pipe. Farn raised his pouch to Timo, who shook his head, flashing a quick smile of thanks. “I hear what you're saying,” he offered as the other man sparked up with the flame suddenly dancing at the end of his thumb. “And I'm also well aware that what happened wasn't the end for Kir.”
“Hmm, you're one of the privileged few's seen the evidence.”
Timo nodded. “When we make it through this I'll take you.”
Grifarne grinned through his beard. “Motivation to win a war if ever I heard it.”
They laughed, Timo sobering again as he met the other man's eye. “I don't ever want you or Ikari to think I'm ungrateful for what you've done. I know for you particularly this has been difficult, given what your peers did to you...”
Farn waved off his concern with an easy disregard. “What happens in Isklar stays in Isklar.”
Timo offered a half smile, squeezed the other man's arm. Grifarne had spoken to him only once of his past one night when they were very very drunk. Timo didn't remember all of the conversation, but recalled enough to know his foggy memory might be a good thing. He'd never asked for clarification and the Skuigr had never offered any. When he'd asked Ikari about it a few weeks later the Nym had only shrugged, offering a sad little lopsided smile. “You probably know more about the Isshjarta now than anyone alive who hasn't been inducted into their ranks. Even we've only gleaned snippets over the years. Respect the gift kiddo, you're one of an honoured few.”
Timo looked at the man opposite now, his rugged jawline back lit by the ring as the ship rode at anchor in the gentle swell. Rivan, he knew, harboured a secret crush on their mysterious northern ally, but for Timo he was more of a father figure. Someone to look up to, to emulate. Though there was no denying the man cut a striking figure with all that corded muscle and dark stubble, particularly when his hair was blowing in the wind.
“What're you smirking at?”
Timo grinned. “Nothing.” Farn scowled round his pipe but Timo only stuck his tongue out, turning back to gaze out at the gently rolling waves himself. “So, we ready?”
“Is a prom date ready for her first time?”
Timo laughed. “I take your point. Are we prepared then?”
Farn cast an arch look his way. “I think the phrase is 'as we'll ever be'.” He knocked ash from his pipe over the rail. “They're good people fighting for a cause they believe in. Which is more than can be said for the opposition, if the information we have is to be believed.”
“Hmm, yes: the plague of stars.”
Grifarne sighed. “I do wish people would stop calling it that, makes them sound untouchable. Which they most definitely are not. Believe me, my people have a history of fighting the Wraethi and winning. Immortal does not automatically mean invincible. And most of these will be like slaves before a whip, driven into the fight against their will.”
“Most of them.”
“Yes, well, there's no accounting for some. Always plenty of thugs out there looking for an excuse to fight. The prospect of a power-up like this will have had them flocking to the cause I'm sure...”
“Way to boost a guys confidence.”
“Oh you'll be fine!” Grifarne slapped him on the back. “Just keep that little
box of tricks I gave you close to hand.”
“I intend to.”
The Skuigr nodded, voice going gruff. “Some of us have a bright future ahead of us, all goes well. Be a shame to see that go to waste.”
“Grif...”
“Hush!” Farn pressed his finger firmly to Timo's lips. “Not a word little one, no false sympathies for Grifarne. I paid for my bed, as your island friends would say, and now I must lie in it.” His eyes danced as he turned to Timo. “Besides, much like yourself I am not short of offers to help warm it...”
“Farn!”
The northern sorcerer laughed out loud. “Even now? Out here on the waves, after all you've been through?”
Timo found he was blushing furiously. “Some things never change.”
Grifarne nodded. “Well, just see that that strict upbringing of yours doesn't leave you a lonely old man like myself.”
“Whose a lonely old man?”
They both turned to grin at the approaching figure. “Timo was just discussing which of his suitors he's to bed first.”
“I was not!”
Enrico eyed the young man before him, eyes sparkling in the light of the ship's lanterns. “I'd not let the decision stand too long if I were you: sailors aren't the most patient when it comes to scratching that particular itch. Likely you'll wake up in the night to find someone's decided to take matters into their own hands. Or mouths. Or some other orifice-”
“-Rico!” Timo and Farn both shouted.
Overhead, sniggering could be heard.
“Hmm, this tongue of mine does tend to run away with me. A trait I'm told makes me popular with the ladies...” Timo raised an eyebrow “...too much information?”
“Correct.” Timo glanced towards the horizon. “Sun'll be up in a few hours.”
The Captain nodded. “Time you boys were getting some shut eye then. Don't worry, I'll make sure you're not disturbed.”
Timo stuck his tongue out as he and Grifarne walked away across the deck. “Think you'll be able to sleep?”
Grifarne shook his head. “Haven't managed a decent night since we cast off. But that's nothing a little meditation won't fix. You?”
Timo smiled. “Ikari's friend has given me the keys to her water park. Should tire me out enough to rest.”
“Water park?”
Timo nodded. “You can come take a look if you like…?”
Grifarne shrugged, gesturing Timo to go first as they reached the ladder leading below. “Got to be worth a try.”