Journey of Trust | A Narnian Story

Chapter 32 | Bites

After the storm blows over, the following days are quiet, everyone is exhausted. This day is no different, people's energies return slowly and the one or other feels up to telling a joke again. Luna sits outside on the middle deck, a whetstone in one hand, while the other holds Ivelle's broadside over her knees. Again, and again the stone grinds over the metal, each stroke sharpening the sword's edges. It is the kind of work that passed into her flesh and blood long ago, so her thoughts wander while she listens with half an ear to the chatter around her. A fine haze lays over the sea, making the air humid. The young woman enjoys the sun warming her, and the fresh breeze that herds the ship onwards steadily, driving away the lingering cold the storm and constant wetness left behind.

» ...can't go on like this, «

» ...back home, «

» ...turn around. « These scraps of conversation let Luna lift her head slightly, listening more closely. She forces herself to not take her eyes off her work and continue without hesitation. It is an instinct, but she scolds herself – here on the Dawn Treader she is among friends, she shouldn't eavesdrop on their conversations. Another stroke over the blade, the whetstone makes a light ringing noise as it continues its path. Still, something in the peaceful atmosphere starts to shift.

» We need new supplies but in these forsaken waters we won't get any, « someone mumbles,

» It'll be small rations for the journey home. « Another voice huffs,

» Aye, now what? We can't do anything about it. «

» Ask the king to turn around? « The first suggests.

» Ha, as if he'd break off his search! « A third voice hisses. Luna rolls her shoulders, her gaze clinging to her sword, but her attention lays with that conversation.

» We could just ask; he'll see reason and- «

» Forget it, « the third voice doesn't let the second finish.

» Why, ye afraid of the king's watchdogs? « A new voice cuts in mockingly. Luna tenses, the voices are familiar, of course, yet she can't place everyone right away.

» 'course not! « The sailor defends himself – not convincingly,

» Now, we're good lads on board, the king will certainly listen to us. «

» Hmpf. «

» Ya got another idea? « Someone challenges the fourth person. After a moment's hesitation, they reply,

» There's always another way... « Luna has difficulties to not shoot up from her spot, what they are implying is more or less treason!

A small shadow slips next to her, causing her to flinch.

» Not yet, my friend, « Reepicheep whispers while settling down next to her rather casually. He draws out his rapier, holding it up to inspect its edge. However, it is all pretence. In reality, he is tense as well, focusing on the four sailors and their interesting conversation. Luna straightens her back, gifting her friend a tight-lipped smile. This feels like one of the many missions the two warriors went on: fighting, escorting, spying. What things they have experienced! In passing, the young woman lets her eyes wander over the deck. A few sailors are scrubbing the planks and cleaning up the last remains of the storm. Drinian is in his usual place at the wheel, eyes narrowed at a certain group of four standing between the mast and Luna's spot. He barks at another sailor to take over for him, then the captain makes his way down and disappears below deck. Probably, he notifies Caspian of the situation. Among the four is Pittencream, not particularly a known troublemaker but someone who is always in a foul mood and voices his opinions every chance he gets. Not that he has no right to have opinions, of course he has, controversial ones too – however, he tends to mock and comment on things or people in high places, complaining about everything as nothing can meet his expectations. Not as blatantly as Eustace did, but with a sharper, edge to it that goes almost undetected. Luna is torn. Naturally, she keeps an eye and both ears on these four sailors. Her instincts tell her to thoroughly assess any potential threat to king and country. Yet, she reminds herself this isn't one of her usual missions – these are friends, comrades. That entails a certain level of trust and a code of honour. Spying on their conversations, taking what maybe were wrongly worded concerns as a threat of mutiny right away... That wouldn't be right. Then again, Coreakin warned them about the mist, or what lurks behind in the veiled dark. As Reep clears his throat discreetly, Luna rips her troubled gaze from the sailors, lowering her eyes on her sword. They don't seem to have noticed her stare. Foolish, she scolds herself, such a beginner's mistake!