Of Heroes and Happenings

Rowan, Chapter 6

After she was alone again, Rowan finished her food and water as ordered, despite the discomfort of an overly full belly and unsure of how she was to eat breakfast without vomiting. Agneus returned as Rowan drank the last of her water. "Well done!" he praised, making her pain worth it to Rowan. "Here, I brought you an extra blanket. We're two days south of Saltsmouth Bay and it grows colder in these waters. You'll need this for warmth."

Valiantly, Rowan controlled tears at his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Master Agneus."

"You're welcome; sleep well, Little Lass. You're safe in here."

"Hey, where's my extra blanket?" someone from a front cell complained.

"Pipe down, you lot!" Agneus ordered. "You ain't half so thin- or innocent." He growled in menace on his way out. Rowan climbed into her hammock, wrapped up in the two blankets and cried for Trice- Nimble-Tinker Brocc of Clan Rainor, she must not forget- for her family, for her ship, and for her stolen childhood innocence. After a very long time, Rowan fell asleep.

Two days after Rowan was put into her cell, the other three cells were emptied of prisoners. To a soul, they walked quietly out as if terrified of whatever awaited them on dry land. They were duly counted and recorded by a well-dressed stranger who eyed Rowan curiously.

"Not her," Chaps denied quickly, stepping between the stranger and Rowan. "That brig is for crew only. Anyway, she'd never survive the mines, not in her condition. Captain Gale is taking her to Cinderfell."

"She's not on my list, anyway. Come to the gaol and you may fetch your chains back. This lot's a welcome addition to the work force!" The official chuckled unpleasantly.

"I'll send Throkk; see that you don't keep him. It's not his fault that his daddy was an orc, and he's a good hand on the deck." The entire time he'd been talking, Chaps was ushering the other man out of the brig, and Rowan was relieved when the hatch shut and locked behind them.

Grateful to be remaining in the safety of her cell, Rowan listened to the once-familiar sounds of a ship in port. Agneus still came twice a day with food and water for drinking and to wash with, as well as to empty Rowan's slops. Other than that, she was left alone, much to her relief. It took but two days for the ship to be restocked with supplies and cargo headed back south.

Captain Gale himself came to see Rowan a day after setting sail. She stood respectfully in his presence; head bowed. "The dragon-turtle," he began. "I need to know about it."

"Where shall I start?" Rowan countered politely. "I will gladly offer everything I know, but I suspect that my knowledge is more than what immediately concerns you, Captain." Just in time, she prevented herself from using his name.

"Most important for now is how to avoid it," he decided.

"He hunts in a radius that extends fifty miles from his lair, Sir. I was trained as a navigator, and I have seen this island from the air. If you bring a chart of where the ship was attacked, I can mark it for you."

"Just show me the island. Rai, the map, please?" From just outside the hatch, Rowan heard light footsteps running toward the stairs that led up onto the deck. "Now," continued the captain, "why were we spared by this dragon-turtle?"

Carefully, Rowan answered his questions as best she knew how, until he was satisfied with the answers. She showed him a mere ink blot on his map, which marked the surface of Omaira's lair, and watched as he scribed a circle around it in the proper diameter. All the while he did so, she described the aerie where the wyverns lived.

When he'd finished, the captain returned the map to the man who'd brought it, and approached the cell door, key in hand. "Chaps tells me that you were rescued, rather than captured, and I fully believe him now, Little One. You've shown you know your way around navigator's tools. Come . . ."