The Cursed Lands: A Dream of Apples and Roses

Chapter Seven - Eloise

Two Days Prior

I stared out at the harbor, frowning at the chaotic hustle and bustle. Surely there had to be more efficient ways of loading and unloading cargo. But the more I watched, the more I realized that there was a sense of order to the chaos. Very rarely did anyone get in the way of another. It just took some analyzing to see the ease at which the sailors and dockhands danced around each other. Giving myself a good shake, I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. If I got distracted by every little process, nothing would ever get done!

I was here to hire a ship, preferably with a captain who wouldn't ask too many questions and who would let me charter the vessel where I needed to go, regardless of where that may be. But so far, I had not been successful. I was either laughed at, ignored, or told to go home to my kitchen. As the dismissals piled up, I grew more and more furious. Did none of these captains have a sense of curiosity? Of wonder and adventure? But finally, I had heard of a captain who might be willing to be chartered by a woman. Squaring my shoulders and brushing off my sensible skirt, I strode down the quay towards where I was told Jupiters Song was moored.

But my steps faltered as it became clear that the ship was not quite what I had envisioned for my trip. The wood was worn, metal fittings were mostly rust, and a questionable looking sailer was busy mending what looked to be a huge rend in one of the sails. The ship looked like it was going to sink at the slightest hint of rough water. And the more I examined the questionable vessel, the more problems I spotted. Fraying ropes, a mast that had clearly snapped and been mended multiple times, and there wasn't a single glass pane in what I presumed to be the outside of the captains cabin that wasn't cracked.

Dismay and despair flooded through me and I fought against an uncharacteristic desire to cry. Instead, I took a deep breath of the salty air, thrust out my chin, and spun around on one heel with the intention of heading back to the inn. Instead, I walked face first into a muscled chest.

Stumbling backwards, I barely managed to avoid landing on my rear, a feat which was assisted by the mans firm grip on my arm. Jerking my arm away, I ignored his look of confusion and cursed inwardly at my lapse of awareness. I should have heard him coming up behind me, but the cataloging of all the things wrong with Jupiters Song had taken my full attention. He was still staring at my arm as if to try and figure out why it had not felt like pliable flesh under his hand. But I was in no mood to enlighten him.

"Excuse me, sir," I say, falling back on the security of my manners, "thank you for the assistance, but I was just leaving."

His eyes flash up at my face with a hint of surprise. "I was given to understand that you were looking to charter a ship. Jupiters Song may not look like much, but I swear to you that she is sea-worthy. Looks can be deceiving, but I get the feeling that you might know something about that."

Narrowing my eyes slightly at his comment, I take the time to really look at the man before me. He is not a handsome man, but there is something striking about his features. His dark hair is tied back in a simple tail revealing intelligent brown eyes set above a beak of a nose that looked crooked from a past break. But instead of making him look sinister, it gave him an air of experience or authority. I could not sense malice or deceit in him, but that did not mean it wasn't there.

"I believe that I shall look elsewhere, thank you. Now if you would just let me pass I shall be on my way."

Grinning, the man shook his head. "I think you need to look at her again, closer this time. As I said, looks can be deceiving."

I opened my mouth to argue but he just shook his head and muttered good naturedly under his breath about stubborn women. Before I could even react, he picked me up by both arms and turned me around, setting me firmly down on the dock. My hackles raised, he was about to find out what was so intriguing about my arm before my attention was arrested by the beautiful ship that lay before me. Gone was the hunk of junk that looked better suited for the bottom of the sea. Instead, I was gazing upon a lovely three masted ship with weather worn but sound lines, polished wood and metal, and gleaming glass. The sails looked clean and well maintained, the deck was organized and clear of obstacles, even the questionable looking sailor looked less rough around the edges. This was the ship that I had seen myself sailing the world on.