Tales from Land & Sea: The Search Begins

There was nothing, Aster thought, quite like the first night ashore after being out to sea for weeks and weeks. She loved sailing, would lose the will to live if she ever lost her ship, yet still. That first night. Nothing quite like it.

It was a specific window of time when you walked on dry, stable land yet would swear you could still feel the rocking of the boat beneath you. When the simple scent of a freshly baked pie had your mouth water like you’d just been allowed a sniff of the most decadent feast because you’d been living off bland rations on board for too many days. When any old chums you ran into in port were actually pleased to cross paths because it’d been long enough since you last shared a drink at your preferred local tavern. You had to take advantage of the time because, as Aster and any true sea-loving sailor would tell you, the change from the water to land quickly lost its appeal.

Yet, on this night after the captain of The Night Soul and her crew had sailed into the harbor at Mellifera, thoughts of the inevitable were far from Aster’s mind, and she laughed heartily with her companions as her first mate, Ruj, bested yet another poor boy in an arm wrestling match. She raised her tankard in the young woman’s honor and took a big gulp.

“Anyone else,” Ruj scanned the tables near them, “up for a challenge?”

‍ ‍Mostly, the other patrons waved her away in a light-hearted manner, more interested in refilling their cups. There were those, though, who’d expected to best the deceptively small maiden, and they scowled in her direction. It truly never got old coming into a place like this and watching men and women alike battle it out with the white-haired wonder and, ultimately, fail to overpower her. Would they never learn?

“Oh, all right.” Ruj sat down when she didn’t have any takers. “That’s enough fun for one night, I suppose.”

‍ ‍The Night Soul ’s helmsman, Judge, smirked and shook his head at her. He picked up a piece of pie crust remaining on his plate and, before he ate it, said, “That last fella wrestled you last time we washed up here. I thought for a moment he had ya.”

“That’s our Ruj’s trick,” Connie threw an arm around the woman’s shoulders. “Give ‘em a little hope. See it light up their eyes. Then snuff it out.”

Not for the first time did Aster quickly send out a prayer of gratitude for having befriended the one and only Cut Throat Connie. There was a ruthless, scheming mind she’d much prefer not being on the wrong side of.

Another such mind resided in the person on Ruj’s other side. Elmora “Evil Grin” Jones had been Connie’s co-conspirator and mayhem manager long before the two women had found their way to Aster and her ship, and she was certainly not someone to trifle with. She drained the rest of her tankard, slammed it down, and said, “Which of those boys do you think is soft enough to not only lose but be suckered into buying me my next drink?”

The crewmate to Aster’s left scoffed. He, too, finished his ale and then said, “I can’t believe you haven’t already selected your prey. That doesn’t sound like you at all, Ellie-girl.”

Only Bones could get away with calling her such a nickname, but, if anyone could, it made sense it was him. He, who’d instigated a fight with Elmora not so long ago in Breezeport, proved himself a worthy opponent, and then enthusiastically signed onto The Night Soul once he discovered she’d honed her skills employed on a pirate ship and not with the official Naval office, as he’d suspected.

That was a common theme amongst Aster’s circle: a certain disregard for the elected figures and offices of authority throughout the nations they sailed around. Such indifference sometimes led to, er, shall we say hairy situations, but nothing the right amount of gunpowder and terror and flashing steel hadn’t taken care of.

Bones and Jones left the table then to find victims at the bar, and with their departure came a sigh from Judge. As he was considerably older than all of them—even their dear captain—he probably saw himself as someone who might look after them all. In theory, that had his heart in the right place, but, in reality, he’d never be able to keep such a crew out of every scrap or foolish conflict. Bless his soul for trying, though.

Judge turned thoughtful eyes on Aster then and asked, “Captain, what are your plans for our time ashore? You’ve been quiet, but don’t think we all haven’t seen that look in your eye. You’ve been planning something.”

Ruj and Connie smirked and leaned in, intrigued and also having had that same questions on their minds. They were used to being brought into their captain’s confidences, and they knew better than to nudge her into telling prematurely or trick it out of her. They knew good plotting required focus and time. And, when the time was right, she’d tell them what they needed to know.

The thing about Aster Vespasian, too, was that there was always something. A new route to chart out on the seas. A wild adventure spurred on by a magical myth she’d caught wind of. Or, often their favorite, maintaining her superiority in a rivalry that had spanned nearly since her birth.

It was to this last endeavor she spoke now. A glimmer of mischief shone in her eyes as she said, “I happened to run into the sail master on my way up from the docks. I’ll give you one guess as to who he said recently ordered new sails from him…and who’s due to return for that order in two day’s time.”

Knowing grins stretched across the lips of her crew.

There was a second, ideal window of time to be ashore, and it wasn’t as generally applied to every sailor, per se, as the first was. Perhaps, though, it could bring more satisfaction. Luck had to be on your side, and sometimes it didn’t always work out.

But, if it did, then the second window would put you on land, in the right port, slightly ahead of The Golden Rose, that elite government vessel. It would give you time to gather resources, task your crew with laying out the pieces of a harmless yet troublesome plan. It meant having the chance to pull one over on the captain of The Rose, the ever dull yet highly opinionated Atlas Vespasian.

〜〜〜

‍ ‍The next morning Aster waited for Ruj, Connie, and Judge to conduct business for her and was far from disappointed in their productivity. Not only that, but she was far from disappointed in the accommodations provided to her while she waited. She sat at a charming little table in a lovely little garden sipping a most robust cup of beans and enjoying a warm scone.

For a pirate, this was rather…uncharacteristically civil of her. For a young woman of noble birth who, when asked by her parents’ associates and friends, described her occupation as “intrepid sea-faring and valuable cargo acquisition,” however, she got away with accessing both spheres of society. It wasn’t that she went out of her way to break the law, and she hadn’t done more than seriously maim someone—who’d had it coming, mind you—so was piracy even an applicable word, at all? Most of the time she was out on the water engaging her training with cartography skills and came back to land with new and helpful star charts to submit to the Council of Navigation. Really, she was doing society great favors by making it that much easier for other vessels to make their way around the world.

True, she had built up the reputation of one who could find, for the right sum, treasures of great worth and deliver them with subtlety and discretion. Her contacts in the high government offices had been or were clients of hers, after all. Yet, she only took on those jobs as she found them necessary—either for making some coin or having more power in her back pocket—and her chief focus was on her charts.

Some people, like her brother, would dismiss her star charts as works of lunacy and inaccurate, occult nonsense, but he was just a puppet of the law who happened to be higher in the chain of command than what was good for him. So, what did he know? He could only make maps of the classic form in his spare time, when his ship wasn’t tasked with specific orders. What good were those compared to hers? Learning to navigate by the stars and interpret them meant you could better predict the weather, calculate risk based on the omens you saw each night, and uncover the secrets of this world that those who dubbed “magic” as archaic and no longer valuable would never see.

Still, those who were well-acquainted with the illustrious Vespasian family held out hope that this sea-faring was simply a phase for the youngest daughter. Ought she not apply her brilliance to academic endeavors and become a scholar? Or, surely, it was time she finally started volume one of what was sure to be a thrilling series of memoirs featuring tales of her adventures. There was also always the option of settling down and marrying, though odds of her raising a small gang of hellions were rather high. So…perhaps domestic pursuits were to be set aside until she’d exhausted all that wild energy that sent her about from port to port.

The clearing of a throat had Aster, bean brew raised to her lips, turning to the servant who’d appeared at the end of the path leading from the house. She took a sip, raising her eyebrows at the young man as if to say, Yes? What news do you have?

“My mistress has just finished her morning toilette and would like you to know she’ll be joining momentarily. She asked me to bring you this and requested you look it over before she arrives so that you two may discuss it.”

After she accepted the tiny, pocket-sized text extended to her, the young man nodded, turned on his heel, and walked off toward the house. He was entirely devoid of emotion, but Aster found a great well of excitement bubbling within her.

Lady Selkirk was, by far and away, the most sympathetic to Aster’s wanderlust and heart for adventure. Had she not suffered from chronic tremors and fits, she most surely would have been manning her own vessel. Ten years Aster’s senior, it could have been her ship Aster first learned to sail on, once upon a time.

The lady’s health had imposed too many limitations on her life, but that didn’t keep her from finding the most interesting artifacts or books describing legends and myths of the sea. Too many people nowadays believed the old ways of the world—the supernatural and arcane ways—had passed, but Lady Selkirk was not one of them. Many of the leads The Night Soul set sail with came from information she shared with Aster.

‍ ‍On this morning, it was a piece titled In Search of the Balmanüm by Sir Hagall Cerwyn. What a find! The great Balmanüm was one of the first legends Aster could remember hearing as a young girl, and it would give her no small joy to discover whether or not the magnificent creature existed.

“Ah, good morning, darling,” a voice of sweet, sing-song quality interrupted her, and Aster set the book down to rise and greet the one and only Lady Vera Selkirk.

“I thought I’d be trespassing a little too early to catch you, Vera.”

The women took their seats, and Lady Selkirk nodded toward the book on the tabletop as she spread a cloth napkin over her lap. “I simply couldn’t oversleep when I knew I had that to give you. Isn’t it wonderfully fascinating?”

“Well, I can’t say,” Aster laughed. “You hardly gave me a minute to look at it.”

“Nevermind that because you are most welcome to take it with you. I dare say it may offer inspiration for where to sail next. It’s marvelously lucky you’re here. I only just received that book last week.” She poured herself a steaming cup of tea, spooning in a generous portion of honey, which Mellifera was known for. Her doctor swore a dose every day would help her tremors.

Aster hummed a sound of acknowledgement, saying, “That is lucky, especially because we’ll be casting off later this evening.”

“So soon?” Lady Selkirk stirred her tea with a frown. “Whatever are you always in a rush for?”

“There’s simply too much to see out there. If I don’t hurry back to my ship and make way, how will I ever get to it all? And now there’s this.” Aster picked the book back up and stared at the cover like she held the keys to the Under Sea.

“Word is your brother will be making port here in the next day or so.”

“Even more reason to make haste from here.”

The lady scanned the array of breakfast goodies available before also selecting a scone for her plate. She glanced at her companion. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to write your mother and inform her her children are healthy and happy.”

“I, for one, am both of those things,” Aster sat back in her seat with a smile, “but after what I’ve arranged for dear old Atlas, I’m not sure it would be correct to label him as happy.”

“Will you never leave each other alone?”

“Never.”

They spent the rest of the late breakfast hour discussing what they collectively knew about the Balmanüm and how Lady Selkirk thought Sir Cerwyn’s memoir might offer insight and guidance. Naturally, as it is with old friends, their conversation explored a fair number of secondary matters and concerns. Shared history and mutual acquaintances were referred to, and promises were made to see each other again as travels permitted. At the very least, Aster needed to send correspondence regarding whatever would happen while seeking out the Balmanüm.

Then Aster needed to be on her way, a few things to see to before The Night Soul left harbor. A new star chart had to be posted, and, though she could have assigned that task to a member of her crew, she liked to personally send off her handiwork. Those charts were the result of many, many sleepless hours spent frowning up at the night sky. Hours bent over reference tomes in her cabin as she deciphered and double-checked she was doing everything correctly. She had a reputation to maintain. She wasn’t going to see a single chart submitted unless she’d given it her best.

So, a stop by her ship before patronizing the messenger’s shoppe; a visit to a respectable mage, who served as an emissary between Mellifera and the Under Sea, for the latest political developments of that mysterious nation; and a purchase at the confectioners for a cabin girl who was too young to be free roaming these streets on her own so could use a sweet treat as a reward for patiently waiting on the ship through the night.

One final, unofficial task occupied Aster’s mind, and it took her to Quill & Scroll, a bookshop she’d been frequenting since she’d first made her way to this city five years ago. Even if she didn’t stop in for months on end, the proprietor, Master Samuel, knew to be on the lookout for any new acquisitions he thought she might be interested in. He’d have a nice stack for her to browse, but, more importantly, he wouldn’t ask questions or go hunting for gossip when she’d purchase a book and ask him to hold it for another patron, who was sure to drop in any day.

That patron had been the one to introduce Aster to Quill & Scroll in the first place. He was a charmer, a storyteller, a fellow who understood how she wanted to read amazing tales and live them. It was beyond unfortunate that he also happened to sail under her brother’s colors, and, for that, their connection had to be discrete. For now, it had to consist of leaving little messages and tokens for one another at various, mutually-adored locales around the ports they were both likely to stop in.

“Ah,” Master Samuel said after Aster had surveyed the selection he’d gathered for her and she’d decided on two of them, “I have one other for you.”

While he ducked into a back room, she slid the one she’d found specifically for this interaction over to Samuel’s side of the counter. So, when he came back out a moment later, she said, “I should like to leave this for the gentleman we know.”

He handed her a wrapped parcel. “And he wished for you to have this.”

Aster’s brow furrowed. Why had he wrapped it? The dimensions and weight suggested it was nothing more than a book, and they never went to any lengths to conceal the texts they chose for one another. What could he possibly mean by deviating this time?

Back board her ship, Aster delivered her small stack of new books to her cabin and set them in a trunk secured to the floor by her desk. She’d give them more attention later, in the hour after supper and before the stars were bright enough to begin a night of observations. For now, she needed to oversee the preparations on deck.

The sun shone down on her crew as they readied the sails and rigging. Supplies and cargo were being loaded and stashed below, and Connie and Elmora ensured it was all done properly. Aster, satisfied, inhaled a deep breath of that briney, rejuvenating sea breeze and climbed the stairs to join Judge on the poop deck.

“Do I find you well this afternoon, ole chap?” she asked, standing beside him at the helm and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Indeed, you do, captain. And it should please you to know the task you gave me this morning has been completed, as you specified.”

“Excellent. I’m delighted.”

“My task,” Ruj said, joining them from below, “has also been seen to, though I fail to see why you should have sought out a child and his goat like that.”

“But don’t you see, Ruj? It’ll be great fun. A terrible nuisance. Atlas detests goats, all their bleating and chewing holes in anything they please. So, just imagine how aggravated he’ll be when he gets into port here and is dogged all over town by a stranger who can’t seem to quiet his pet. Then it gets better!” Better not for Atlas but for but her, and her crew knew the name of the game far too well by now to feel she needed to clarify. “My brother will do as he always does, and I might say thank goodness for his bland reliability. Because that goat will follow him while he visits his favorite baker, when he, fresh and presentable, files and posts his charts, and, finally, makes his way to the Green Gate Inn. At that point in time, I will be amazed if he hasn’t threatened to shoot the poor beast at least a dozen times, but the goat will quickly become a lesser concern when he tries to request a room at his favorite lodgings and discovers a rather large party has paid for and booked every last available bed.”

Ruj smirked and shook her head. “Just when I think this Vespasian war can’t get any more petty…Is that the worst of it then?”

“No. No, not quite. Judge here has set in motion a scheme that will, hm, how should I say…upset a local community and will run The Golden Rose out of town rather quickly. Not forever, of course. I won’t keep them from their newly-tailored sails. But they will want to give the city some breathing room—and be in hot pursuit of us because he’ll know who’s behind all this, which is precisely what we want.”

“Now that piece of the plan,” Judge said, “I’m not sure I understand.”

“They will have someone with them whose services I shall be in need of.”

“Why would you not engage them yourself while we’re already here?” Ruj asked.

Aster scoffed. “And abduct a monk myself? Ruj, please. When there’s dirty work, we leave it to Atlas, if it can be helped.”

With that, she turned and marched to the stairs, knowing she needed to make sure the proper charts were in order, should Judge need a reminder on direction. It was of the utmost importance she cross-reference the route she’d planned with what she’d learned thus far about the Balmanüm, make sure they were headed towards waters that could very well hold answers.

She caught Ruj’s question to the helmsman as she walked away: “What, in the name of the Tide, do we need a monk for?”