Well... I know that they are pirates. So, it does make sense if I give it thought. However, it kinda caught me as off while I was reading. I'm not sure what to say.
i liked this. usually sci-fi/fantasy writers are really serious, and the books are hardly a light read. your's has a little humour, and it's good humour too, well written.
i have a problem though:
The sleeves of his shirt had been rolled back, revealing well-muscled forearms and a distinct lack of wristband.
wristband? i'm not sure what you mean here, but whatever it is it isn't very clear and doesn't really fit. otherwise, great so far. i love the dialogue.
"Meanwhile everyone wants to breathe and nobody can; and many say, 'We will breathe later.' And most of them don’t die because they are already dead." -- Graffiti of the events of May, Paris '68
The wristband bit comes from the first book. I did mean for this one to be pretty stand-alone though, so I'm gonna have to go back and set up for that comment somewhere. Thanks for pointing it out.
The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief. ~William Shakespeare, Othello Boo. SPEW is watching.
The hall echoed softly with the footsteps of the servant as he neared. Jave glanced at him as he passed, turning back to the large double doors in front of him.
The wood of the door was fairly plain. A narrow band of detailing had been carved around the outer edge, but the rest was merely dark stained and sanded smooth. It seemed odd after having sailed with the Visaden for so long, a clan that seemed to take every available surface as an invitation to create a masterpiece.
Jave shifted on his feet as another servant went by and looked out the windows that lined the other side of the hall high above his head. The shadows cast by the sunlight that streamed in had already shifted a good inch and a half since he’d gotten there. It seemed that Lady L’ira’s estimate on when he should drop by was a little off.
Jave eyed the door impatiently, hearing the faint rumblings of a male voice beyond it. Or perhaps this Mr. Detaan just didn’t know when to shut up.
Sighing, he strode across the hall, taking a seat on the benches that had been set under the windows. Apparently it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for people to have to wait to see the Cyrok Lady.
Another two servants passed, but he barely looked at them, waiting for those large double doors to open.
A few minutes later, a blonde-haired girl no older than him came along the hall, her boots striking the floor in a firm rhythm. She was dressed in a deep blue gown that brushed against the floor, barely allowing the toes of her shoes to show as she walked.
“They’re not done yet,” Jave told her as she approached the doors and began to push them open. “And I’m in line first.”
The girl looked at him sharply. “Who are you?” she demanded.
He stood, smiling as he offered her his hand. “Jave. Jave Marrow.”
She eyed his hand with distaste. “You’re not here asking to be made Cyrok are you?” she asked, the idea clearly more appalling to her than his cavalier attitude.
He dropped his hand back to his side, forcing himself to keep smiling. “No. I’m not.”
“Good.” She turned back to the door, satisfied.
“And you are?” Jave questioned. It had been a while since he'd been made to feel insignificant (one blessing of sailing with the Visaden), but this girl was doing a fairly good job of doing just that.
She looked at him, her eyes laughing at the tone that had crept into his voice. “Lady Kadelyn Cyrok.”
Jave stopped surprised. “You’re Lady L’ira’s sister?”
“Hardly,” Kadelyn told him.
The right hand door creaked open suddenly, allowing Mr. Detaan to exit. He was a large man with silver-grey hair and a short beard covering his chin. L’ira was only a step behind him, a polite smile plastered across her face.
“I’ve already told you,” Detaan was saying. “I’ve lived through four different rulers now, when I only expected to live through two, three at the most.”
“My apologies,” L’ira murmured.
“It wouldn’t bother me so much,” he went on, hardly even seeming to hear her. “Except for the fact that you keep getting younger! Your grandfather was thirty-two, your mother twenty-six, Fier twenty-four. And now look at you!” Detaan gestured toward her. “Not to be over-stepping any lines of etiquette, but you’re barely even nineteen. What’s to come next?”
L’ira shook her head slightly, still smiling. “I can assure you, Mr. Detaan, I’ll be around for quite a while. My children will have plenty of time to get to a proper age before they take the throne.”
Detaan snorted, clearly unconvinced. “I’m quite certain that your parents didn’t intend to leave us with a child ruler either.”
“Well,” L’ira told him. “Maybe you can ask the other nobles to help you put together a petition to keep anyone underage from wandering onto the throne.”
“Wandering?” Detaan laughed. He paused, the idea growing on him. “Perhaps I will. Good day, my lady.” He bowed and headed away. It was obvious that L’ira was glad to see him go.
“L’ira,” Kadelyn said, swooping in before the other girl had time to breathe. “Mother is waiting for you in the Great Hall. We don’t have much time to—“
“Thank you, Kadelyn,” L’ira said. She rubbed her forehead, closing her eyes momentarily. “Tell Estal that I’ll be there when I can. I have something I need to do first.”
Kadelyn paused and then nodded curtly, heading back the way she’d come.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” L’ira said, leading him back through the door. “Jave, wasn’t it?”
Jave nodded, following her into the large conference room that opened up before them.
“Go ahead and close the door,” she told him, stopping at a table at the far end of the room. He pushed the door shut as instructed and turned toward her again.
Her back was to him as she gathered the papers scattered over the table and pulled them into a single pile.
“I met a Lady Kadelyn out there,” Jave said, watching her.
L’ira glanced at him over her shoulder. “Did you?” She tapped the papers against the table to even them and pushed them off to the side.
“Who is she?” he asked.
“She’s my cousin.” L’ira turned to face him and stopped suddenly, looking back toward the door. “Hello?”
Jave turned around, finding the door cracked open and a boy with red-brown hair looking inside.
“Sorry to interrupt,” the boy told L’ira. “Leref sent me to find you. We need you to come look over the entertainment schedule. The mages are getting a little antsy.”
“How long will that take?” L’ira asked.
He shrugged. “Shouldn’t take long.”
“I’ll be there a little later, Garred,” she told him.
“Alright.” He ducked back out.
L’ira returned her attention to Jave. “I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath. “You said that someone told you I could help you with something? What—”
“L’ira?”
L’ira turned toward the new intruder, her temper noticeably running short. “Yes, Tori?”
The girl paused, seeing L’ira’s expression. “Mother said to tell you that she went ahead and approved the decorations in the Great Hall, but she needs you so that we can get your hair and make-up done for tonight.”
L’ira blinked. “We have three hours before dinner.”
“Yeah, well,” Tori said, shrugging. “These things take a long time.”
“I’ll get there when I get there,” L’ira told her.
Tori grinned. “Sounds like an answer Mother’ll love.” She disappeared, the door settling shut behind her.
Jave looked at L’ira, slightly stunned. “It seems you’re in high demand today.”
“Yeah,” she said, laughing uneasily. She took a few steps forward, glancing toward the doors. “There’s this big court dinner tonight. Everyone seems to be under the impression that I need to personally approve every minute detail.”
Jave’s eyes flickered over to follow her gaze. “Should I be letting you go then?”
“No.” She looked at him quickly. “Or at least, I’d really rather you didn’t. What I’d like is to tell them all that they can have the whole dinner without me.” Jave laughed and she smiled as she went on. “My only problem is that if we stay here we’ll probably get interrupted every two minutes.” She bit her lip. “Would you mind if we just sort of walked around?”
“You’re thinking that if you don’t stay in one place that you’ll be able to escape anyone trying to find you?”
L’ira nodded. “That’s the plan anyway. Would you mind?”
“No,” Jave said. He followed her toward the door and the two of them slipped into the hall, leaving the door shut tightly behind them.
“So, what did you need my help with?” L’ira asked as they turned a corner, leaving the conference room behind them.
“Well,” Jave folded his hands behind his back. “Do you want the long story or the short story?”
She eyed him curiously. “There’s a long story?”
“Yes, there is,” Jave replied. He glanced up at a large painting hung on the wall. A stern man started back, seeming to look straight through him. “He’s a little creepy,” he said, stopping.
L’ira eyed the painting, hesitant to stop walking. “Personally, I agree, but I wouldn’t let anyone else hear you say that. He was a member of the Cyrok Royal Family. My great-great…” She tried to remember, fumbling for the words. “Great something-or-other.”
They started walking again.
“So, is this long story funny?” L’ira asked.
Jave opened his mouth to answer and then stopped himself. “You know, I don’t actually know. No one’s ever asked for me to tell it.”
L’ira looked at him out of the corner of her eye, half-laughing. “Oh. Well, then… Should we just stick with the short version?”
“Well, that one’s well-rehearsed anyway,” Jave told her. “I think I’ve told it to just about every person that I’ve met on this trip. Hopefully this will be the last time.”
“Hopefully,” she agreed, waiting for him to go on.
“Well, over the past six months,” he began, looking toward the ceiling. “I’ve gone through three countries, two ports and the territories of twelve different Sea Clans on my way here. I’m looking for a mage that my father met about eighteen years ago. She stayed at my home for a few days, but she didn’t exactly leave us with the clearest instructions on how to find her. I’ve been told that you’d be the one that would know where she is.” He paused. “What is that?”
L’ira blinked, following his gaze to the images painted across the ceiling. “That’s the Dark Ship,” she explained, eyeing the mass of purple-grey fog that took up a large section of the ceiling. ”According to legend, it brought the three-headed snake to this island to escape death, destruction and war on the mainland.”
Jave raised an eyebrow. “That’s a ship?”
She shrugged. “That’s what it’s called. They say that it didn’t really look like a ship though, so that’s the artist’s rendering of it. It’s actually one of the better ones Usually, it just comes out as a bunch of black and purple goo.”
Jave glanced at the image one more time as they moved on.
“So—“ L’ira began. She stopped short, listening intently to something behind them. She groaned after a moment, looking around. “Send them somewhere else,” she murmured, ducking through at door to their right and shutting it again.
Jave stared after her. What in the world was going on?
It was only a moment before his question was answered as he heard the voices of two girls behind him.
“Where is she?” one demanded, obviously irritated.
“L’ira,” the other called, her voice level. “L’ira!”
“If she’s hiding again…” the first muttered.
“Kadie. When was the last time she hid purposely?”
“Tori,” Kadie returned in a more cutting tone. “It was the last time that we had one of these dinners, remember?”
Jave thought about hiding as well just as the two came around a bend in the corridor. Recognizing Lady Kadelyn, he swallowed and bowed slightly.
Kadelyn’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing out here?”
The other girl put a hand on her arm. “Calm down,” she murmured. She turned to Jave with a smile. “I’m Torwen. You were with L’ira a few minutes ago, weren’t you?”
Jave hesitated. “Yes. I was.”
“Do you know where she went?” Torwen asked. She laughed a little. “She seems to have disappeared.”
“Um…” Jave’s thoughts raced as he tried to think of something to tell them. He hadn’t been around long enough to send them in any direction let alone the wrong one.”
“Well?” Kadelyn pressed.
Jave clenched his fists at her tone and forced himself to put together an answer.
“I believe,” he said. “That she went to see a…” he searched for the name he’d heard earlier. “Leref? Something about looking over an entertainment schedule.”
Kadelyn rolled her eyes and began pulling Torwen back the way they’d come. “Come on,” she snapped.
Torwen shot another smile Jave’s way with a hurried thanks before they passed out of sight.
Jave turned toward the door that L’ira had run through a few minutes before and slowly pushed it open. A large room lay in front of him, wide windows lighting it from the far end. Shelves of books lined the walls, stretching all the way to the ceiling thirty feet above his head. A staircase on his left wound its way up to a second level that extended halfway into the room supported by elegant stone pillars.
Jave stopped, letting the door shut behind him. He’d seen the libraries of the Sea Clans before, but this one made the rest look small and completely dwarfed his father’s.
“Lady L’ira?” he called, moving further into the room.
She stepped out from her hiding place amongst the bookcases, fidgeting nervously. “I’m sorry,” she told him. She gestured back toward the hall. “I shouldn’t have left you out there like that.”
He waved it away. “I have this strange feeling that you haven’t been in office for very long.”
“No,” she said, laughing. “I really haven’t. I haven’t even been with the Cyrok for very long. I was raised by the Visaden.”
“Ah…” Jave nodded. “I wondered how Danic and Alrein seemed to know you so well.”
L’ira smiled. “Yeah.” She bit her lip. “I really am sorry.”
“You’ve apologized a lot to me today,” he said, holding up a hand to stop her. “How about I just accept and we move on?”
She squared her shoulders, nodding. “Of course.”
“So, this mage that I’m looking for,” Jave began again, quickly returning to the conversation that they’d been carrying on in the hall. “I’m told that she’s Cyrok. Her name’s Glaeseerin Demeryan.”
“Glae?” L’ira repeated, blinking.
Jave paused. “You know her?”
“Yes,” L’ira told him. “Fairly well actually.”
“Then you can tell me where I can find her?”
She looked uneasy.
“Please tell me you’re about to say yes,” Jave said.
L’ira shook her head. “I’m sorry.” She hurried to go on as Jave sighed. “She’s sailing on the Red Water right now. It’s not a Cyrok ship. It’s crewed by…” She tried to remember the phrase. “Self-employed adventure and treasure seekers. Or at least that’s what they call themselves.”
Jave eyed her blankly. “Pirates?”
“That’s what everyone else calls them,” she conceded. “They tend to go from place to place and Glae doesn’t often report back to us. I can tell you where they were last and help you get on their trail, but not much more than that.”
Jave bowed slightly, trying to hide his growing disappointment. “Thank you.”
“You can stay here at the palace for now,” she told him, watching his face fall. “If you come with me, I’ll find you a room.”
“Actually,” Jave said, stopping her as she started toward the door. “I’ve already taken up enough of your time. If it’s not a problem, I’ll just stay here for a while.”
“Be my guest,” L’ira assured him. “I’ll send someone for you later.”
Jave turned toward the books as she strode out. So he hadn’t been as close as he’d thought…
The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief. ~William Shakespeare, Othello Boo. SPEW is watching.
An arrow can only be shot by pulling it backwards. So when life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means that life's going to launch you into something great, so just focus and keep aiming. — Unknown
