“There is still time to put these two ashore,” Cwelanas mentioned, pointing to Teldin.
“I want us underway as soon as possible. We will not delay for them.” Luciar’s voice was firm and certain. ‘See to things, then bring our human guest up here.”
“Yes, Captain,” Cwelanas answered darkly but without argument. She turned to the elf sailors who gawkcd around her. “You heard the captain, crew. He wants us out of the bay now. Unfurl more sail. You four-” She pointed to a group of lean and hard-looking elves-"see to that-”
“Giff,” Teldin interjected.
“-thing does no more damage. When llfaras and his clumsy peers are able to walk, send them to the galley for tending. Now, you, to the captain." Cwelanas grabbed Teldin roughly by the shirt and pulled him toward the stairs to the afterdeck. She was surprisingly strong for her size and easily jerked the surprised human off balance.
“I can walk, thank you,” Teldin insisted, upon recovering his footing. With an unconcerned shrug, she dropped her grip and let him go ahead of her, out of caution, not courtesy. Teldin lurched and almost fell as the ship caught the breeze and heeled slightly. Cwelanas made no attempt to help the human, but instead pushed him forward. He caught the banister, then climbed to meet Captain Luciar.
The old elf kept his face impassive as he stared gravely at Teldin. Cwelanas stood near the stair, her saber still unsheathed. “You came to me yesterday asking for passage to Sancrist,” Luciar intoned as if reminding himself of events. “I told you no. Today I find you-and a monster- smuggled aboard my ship. This violates law and custom.”
“Sir,” Teldin said, “my-”
“On human ships, I am told, stowaways are simply thrown overboard,” Luciar coldly continued, ignoring Teldin’s words for the moment. “If they are lucky, they swim to shore.” He turned to survey his crew’s progress.
“Maybe the big one could, but this one would never make it,” snorted Cwelanas.
“Quiet, my daughter,” Luciar chided. “The jib is going slack. It should be full in this wind. See to it, Cwelanas.”
“Yes, Father,” the elf maiden said quietly, sensing her father’s faint displeasure.
As his first mate descended, Luciar strolled to the aft railing. Teldin remained. “Young man, do you understand what you have done?” the ancient elf asked grimly.
“Stowed away, sir,” was the human’s answer, meekly said in spite of his determination. The captain’s imperious manner chilled the farmer’s spirit. Teldin was not proud of his act, since he knew it was little more than thievery.
“I am bound by the customs of the Silvamori to welcome any soul who sets foot on my ship, provided he draws no blade against me,” Luciar tersely explained. “That is why I would not let you aboard yesterday. Now I am stuck with you it would seem. Cwelanas would let tradition hang and throw you overboard.” The captain shook his head sadly at the thought. Teldin’s hopes brightened. Perhaps his luck was beginning to change. After all, he deserved a break in his fortunes, the farmer reasoned.
“This I will not allow,” the old elf captain continued, “but I will not allow you to steal free passage aboard my ship, either! You and your-thing-will work among the crew. Cwelanas is my first mate, and she will give you orders. You must do as she says.” The elf let a faint smile cross his lips. “I imagine you will regret stowing aboard long before we reach land.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Teldin said, somewhat crestfallen. Easy passage had been a vain hope, more than he had a right to expect. “Gomja and I will manage.” Even as he claimed so, Teldin was far from sure. He certainly knew the voyage would be anything but dull.
“Teldjn Moore, report to Cwelanas for your duties.”
Teldin leaned against the bowsprit and gazed longingly at the distant land. The queasiness of his first night at sea had passed, but Teldin found sea-going life more difficult than he had expected. He was used to the open spaces of a farm; the ship was small and confining, even when he was on the main deck. Teldin was constantly and nervously aware of the limits of his fragile new home. It did not help to be constantly reminded of his ignorance about things nautical. Gomja at least, from his flying ships, had something of an advantage over Teldin in this.
Still, he was trying to learn quickly and had so far mastered some of the basics of sailing. Fortunately, Teldin was a quick study. He had always had the knack for picking up skills in a short time-farming, hunting, mule-skinning, army life, and now, apparently, sailing. Teldin fully expected to have a good understanding of the principles by the time the ship reached Sancrist. He certainly was getting enough work at it. By this, his second, morning aboard, Teldin was no longer looking about stupidly when Cwelanas ordered the crew onto the ratlines, the ladderlike ropes that ran from the top of the mast to the gun-wales- another new term he had learned. Indeed, Teldin was getting adept at watching the rest of the crew for clues as to just what Cwelanas’s orders meant, since her words were so full of nautical lingo.
With a tired sigh, Teldin leaned against the railing and gazed out over the water. To either side-port and starboard, he had learned from Gomja-were still-dark shapes of craggy peaks. Galwylin, one of the more out-going members of the elven crew, said they were the Gates of Paladine that marked the mouth of the Bay of Branchala. Beyond the cliffs was open sea. Sometime today the Silver Spray would pass beyond those mountainous walls and leave the shelter of land behind.
At Teldin’s back, the morning sun was slowly changing from the first orange-red of dawn to the rich yellow fire of the day. Although he had been awake for several hours, this was the first moment he had gained from Cwelanas for anything more than just working, only because there was finally nothing that needed doing.
“She’s determined to get every ounce of sweat out me, Teldin reflected, talking to the fish that shot by the bow in silver streaks. “Teach me to stow away. Wouldn’t recommend it.” The fish ignored his advice and plunged beneath an oncoming wave crest, their shining fins disappearing into the murky blue ocean.
Leaning out over the carved wave figurehead, Teldjn let his thoughts wander to Cwelanas, comparing her to the young women he’d known back home. She was alluring despite-or perhaps because of-her fierce and proud demeanor. The elf maiden’s graceful form, exotic ferocity, even her fiery personality, Teldin allowed, this time not talking aloud to himself, attracted him-more than any of the local girls he had met. Watching the waves, he remembered Grandfather describing elves that the old man had seen. “How they look, it’s a way they cast a charm on your eye,” the patriarch had said. ‘Fair is not enough to describe them. They’ll make your heart pain.” Teldin had wondered at the time Just what his grandfather meant; now he felt he knew.
Teldin’s thoughts were interrupted by Gomja’s heavyfalling tread behind him. The foredeck’s creaking boards could herald only the giff s approach, for there was no one else on board larger than Teldin. At a little over six feet tall, Teldin towered over the smaller, lighter elves. “Bare Tree” was the nickname they gave him, descriptive of his long, lean frame. Gomja they nicknamed “Boardbreaker.”
"You look troubled, sir,” Gomja commented as he joined the human. There was barely space for the two of them on the bow, so Teldin slid to the side, giving the giff some space along the jutting bowsprit.
Teldin was amused by the giffs interpretation of his mood. “Cwelanas’s doing, Gomja, that’s all. Wonder what else she’ll have us do today.” Teldin turned away from the breaking waves; his stomach was starting to roil and he was only now getting accustomed to the rolling of the ship.