Scholar

17

After four days aboard the Moon’s Son, Quaeryt had to admit that the often-dour Chexar was a good shiphandler. The fare was adequate, and the weather slightly rough, but bearable. The ocean was getting colder. That was obvious from the fine spray that flew from the bow when the ship encountered a larger swell. Late on Meredi afternoon, he managed to catch Chaenyr, the second mate, in a talkative mood … or what passed for one.

“Will you have any time away from the ship when you port?”

“Depends on what we can load and how long it takes. It’s early in harvest.” The mate shrugged. “That means fewer cargoes. I wouldn’t mind a few days home.”

“You’re from Tilbora?”

“You might say that, excepting as I grew up in Slaegyn. That’s a hamlet some ten milles to the north of Tilbora, on the Highlands.”

“Is that near Haestal?”

The mate nodded. “Just south of there.”

“And it’s in the Highlands?” From Quaeryt’s study of the maps of Tilbor, Haestal was on the coast, but didn’t have a harbor.

“Aye … the east cliffs drop near on three hundred yards into the sea. There’s not even shingle at the base of the cliffs, and in a nor’easter, the waves might break halfway up.”

“Is a nor’easter likely this time of year?”

Chaenyr laughed. “You can get a nor’easter any time of year. They happen more in fall and winter, and they’re worse then.”

Quaeryt glanced forward. “No clouds in sight now, but the wind’s freshened and shifted. It’s more out of the east now. That’s usually a sign of a change in the weather.”

“The weather changes all the time once you get a few days north of Estisle.” Chaenyr cocked his head, his eyes squinting. “Might be a blow coming. Might not. Might just be a shift to a sou’easterly. We could use that. Calmer seas and a mostly following wind.”

The scholar looked to port where, just on the western horizon, there was the thinnest line of darkness-the coastline of eastern Telaryn. “Where are we now?”

“We passed the headland at Edcloin just after sunrise … most likely we’ll be coming in sight of the Barrens before long. They’ll be hard to see. The captain’ll be turning some to the east. Won’t want the winds and currents to fetch us up there.”

“The Barrens? Are those low sandspits or islands?”

“Hundreds of ’em. Stretch for a good three hundred milles, and that doesn’t count the shallows to the north. They say there were once more towns and good harbors there, but the waters changed and filled them with sand, and the folks all left, most of them, anyway. I’d dare say more ships been lost to the shallows than to the Barrens. One good thing that the Lords of Telaryn did-they cleaned out most of the shipbreakers and their false lights and fires. Still some on the Shallows Coast, though.” The mate spat over the rail. “About the only good thing the Telaryns did.”

“Doesn’t sound like the Telaryns are much liked in Tilbor.”

“Telaryns are fine. We could do without the armsmen and the extra tariffs. Some folks wouldn’t even mind the tariffs if the coin went to building better roads or replacing the breakwater in Tilbora. All they see is the parties and balls in the Telaryn Palace.” Chaenyr frowned. “Where are you from?”

Quaeryt laughed. “I can’t say as I know. The scholars in Solis took me in when I was too young to remember. They told me later I could speak a few words, but no one knew what because I didn’t speak whatever it was properly.”

“You know a bit about the sea.”

“I spent a few years before the mast, then went back and studied some more with the scholars. That didn’t turn out quite the way I thought it might.”

“You a scholar, then?”

“I could claim that.” Quaeryt laughed again. “I kept leaving the Scholars’ House often enough that they never bothered to de-scholar me. Then I found a patron, and they decided it wasn’t worth the trouble.” All of that was true, if not precisely in the way or order in which he’d related it.

“Why are you headed to Tilbor?”

Quaeryt offered a rueful expression. “There are good things and bad things about having a patron. The best thing is that you know you’ll be provided for. The worst thing is that they often want things done … or obtained … or looked into…”

Chaenyr laughed. “Some ways I prefer dealing with the captain. It’s clear what he wants, when he wants it, and how.”

“Everyone I talked to, asking about shipmasters heading north, said he was a fine mariner and shiphandler.”

“That he is, no question about it. And if others were as honest as he is, he’d have more than the Moon’s Son.”

Quaeryt nodded and waited, sensing that a question would close off learning more.

“But most folk aren’t so much honest as self-serving and trying not to seem so. That’s the way of the world, and you and I and the captain just have to do the best we can.” Chaenyr turned. “I’d best be checking with the bosun.…” With a nod, the mate headed forward.

Quaeryt looked to the northeast. The sky above the horizon was clear.