Of Heroes and Happenings

Rowan, Chapter 7

Outside the imposing court building, Rowan was content to follow Gale's lead to yet another stone building, farther down the street. Slightly less imposing than the Magistrate's office, the guild-master's office was also more plush, speaking toward the collective success of its members. Eager to have the contract fulfilled, the Guild-master was quick to consult his files.

"That would be the Hunter's Mark. They're a young crew, hungry for a name. I believe you'll find them over at the Sailor's Rest while their ship is repaired."

Gale cleared his throat with a pointed look at Rowan, who felt less than impressive with her rags and scars, even though she'd been allowed a proper wash before breakfast. "Please send word to the officers that we have valuable information for them?"

The guild-master huffed. "Really, my good man! The Sailor's Rest is just across the way."

Before Gale could react to the insult, Chaps leaned into the man's personal space, silently threatening him. "What Captain Gale meant, was that we'd prefer not to bring an innocent, young girl into your members' iniquitous den of fornication and over-indulgence."

"I have no reason to officially summon them," retorted the man peevishly. "You may send word, yourself!"

Gale growled at him. "If you think I intend to expose the child of my dear, departed friend, Perrin Greenmere, to that place, you . . ."

Rowan chuckled, cutting off his protest. "Captain Gale, you do realize that I'm two and twenty, by nearly four months, do you not?" Please, I will do as I must in order to see my family avenged."

Gale sighed and leaned back. "If you insist, Little One, but don't say I didn't warn ye."

Outside, the captain led the way to a nearby bench, seating Rowan between him and Chaps. "Rowan, you vastly resemble my daughter, Kitt. She was about your height at nearly four, when we last set sail. My apologies."

Rowan forced a smile. "Well, you still vastly resemble the man who used to pay my brother and I in taffy apples to inspect the Moonshadow Crescent's rudder. I trust you, Captain Gale. If you want me to wait here for the crew of the Hunter's Mark, I shall."

Gale pulled Rowan closer in another, brief hug. "Stay with her, Chaps. I'll be back."

Chaps grinned at Rowan as Gale stalked toward the Sailor's Rest. "It ain't just you, Kid- Miss Rowan. No decent woman belongs inside that door and looking like ye do . . . it just would not be good."

Rowan shrugged. "You think pirates behave better?"

"No, but Perrin was our friend, Gale's best friend as a lad. Knowing you're his daughter makes you akin to being, well, kin. I'd never let my daughter, or my sister for that matter, even near that place."

Rowan did her best not to gape. "You have a sister?" At his nod, she dared, "is she as strong as you, in arcana?"

He chuckled at that. "Stronger; she went to a fancy, magical finishing school; I chose seminary. Somehow, we both ended up on the Moonshadow Crescent." He smiled at the memory. "She stays here in Cinderfell with her family now, has an arcane shop."

Rowan sighed. "I was on my way to a school like that when the pirates . . ." She bit her lip, not wanting to finish the thoughts. "Papa was so excited about that school; he prepaid three years." She tried to grin but failed miserably. "I'm here, just seven years late."

"Your father prepaid for . . ." Chaps started to echo her, but let his voice trail off as Gale strode toward them with a thunderous expression.

As Gale crossed the street, the door he'd slammed behind him flew open to reveal a man who'd obviously thrown pants on in a hurry. "Did you say 'dragon-turtle'?" the man called out, his voice ending in a half-strangled squeak.

Rowan watched a smile dawn on Gale's face, but he never broke stride. The man, bare of foot and chest, raced after the determined captain. Rowan hid her own smile.

"Uh, Sir?" the man tried again as he neared. "Please, wait? I think we can do business!" He all but skidded to a halt before the trio.

"Yes, a dragon-turtle," growled Gale, "but this young lady won't be offering more until we can speak in private, and I see the color of your gold!"

"You'll need to bring a map," Rowan dared to advise, "and ink and quill, so I can mark locations of sentries, tunnel entrances, cave schematics, troop numbers . . . "

"Which you can provide?" he sneered down at her. "Listen, I don't have time for little . . ." His words died off abruptly at the snick of a dagger unsheathed and the gleam of Chaps' steel perilously near his bare abdomen.

"Watch what word comes next out of your mouth," growled Gale. "Some of my very best friends are halfling."

"Kid?" finished, the hapless, drunken sailor hopefully.

Chaps shook his head at Rowan. "Let them try on their own, Miss Rowan. They'll be another, sunken ship in Omaira's collection, then we can take the contract. Who knows? Perhaps there will be a survivor to rescue?"

Anger suffused Rowan. Emboldened by the support of her captain and first mate, Rowan pulled herself up to her full, thirty-three inches of height and glared. "They kept me captive for seven years. I know it all, and you can either have that information for a fair price, or I take Chaps' advice. I want them dead, all of them but the seven captives chained to a wall. If you can't guarantee that, I won't waste my time."

It worked. "Um, meet me in the Guildhall in twenty minutes? I need to get my crew."

"Tell them to come fully dressed," growled Gale as Chaps sheathed his dagger.

In a conference room of the guildhall, Chaps returned to a previously-interrupted conversation. "Rowan, you said your father prepaid your schooling?" Rowan only nodded despite Gale's interest in the conversation, feeling as if the grand sum he'd paid had been lost.

Gale studied her, seeming excited. "What else did he say about it?"

Rowan frowned. It seemed a lifetime ago! "He had friends in this city who could be there for school stuff when he couldn't, but Captain, I can't . . ."

"Did he say who?" pressed Gale, ignoring her protest. She shook her head. "What school?"

"Madam Scilla's School of Arcana . . ."

"For Proper Young Leaders," the men chorused along with her, both seeming to share an inside joke over it. "My sister's alma mater," Chaps explained.

"And my wife's," Gale nodded with a grin at Chaps. His expression turned melancholy. "Ah, Rowan, you recognized the ship- and me- immediately, but did you ever think that I might be that friend?" Shocked, Rowan only stared. "Jada and my wife exchanged letters routinely," Gale reminded her, then sighed. "The last was addressed to me. To be fair, I didn't recognize you at all. I . . ."

Chaps interrupted. "You do look like his daughter though. It's uncanny!"

"Is that why you saved me, on the deck?"

Gale shook his head. "You were so afraid to go back to them; no pirate would prefer death to being returned to his crew. I need you to know something though; I didn't have you locked in that cell because I thought you were a pirate. I did it because I was afraid of any arcane hold the dragon-turtle might have had on you. The cell could block it."

"Thank you." Rowan remembered her fears of earlier, remembered the unlocked cell and felt foolish. "So, now what?"

"Now, Little One, we get your finances in order," grinned Chaps, "and then we visit Madam Scilla."

"She can't go to the school, looking like that!" protested Gale. "She'd be thrown out on her ear. We need help, first."

Chaps nodded soberly. "She'll be really mad if we don't ask her to help."