The Worlds of the Sheaf

The Bescot - Part 1

Saturn arrived back aboard the Jules Verne two days later.

Thomas had been in the hanger deck, using the galley of one of the scout ships as a temporary study in which to examine some of the artifacts they'd brought back from Veglia and had decided to take a break. He'd emerged onto the deck of the scout ship, intending to make his way to the crew lounge, when he'd seen the older wizard standing beside the teleportation cubicle, obviously having just arrived back aboard the ship. He was talking to the first mate, and Thomas's heart quailed with fear as he waited for the older wizard to notice him and pour fresh scorn upon him. If Saturn saw him he paid him no attention, though, and Thomas scurried for the stairs, hurrying to the upper decks and the safety of his cabin.

"Made it," he gasped as he closed the door behind him, but he knew it was only a temporary reprieve. He would have to meet him face to face sooner or later, and there was a part of him that just wanted to get the awful confrontation over and done with. He almost returned to the hanger deck to face him there and then, but he wasn't quite brave enough and instead spent some time just lying on his bed, letting his thoughts go wherever they wanted.

He remained there for almost an hour, staring sightlessly up at the metal ceiling, but he knew he was hiding and he grew more and more annoyed with himself for being such a coward. Eventually it was more than he could stand and he got up to leave. Not to deliberately seek out Saturn, but if he bumped into him then so be it. He was simply going to go to the lounge, as he'd originally intended, and have a drink, like any other member of the crew. Maybe chat with his friends if he happened to meet them there.

Tassley was there, sitting across a table from one of the cavalrymen. They nodded amiably to each other, but the woman was clearly fully occupied with the soldier and Thomas left her to it, sitting himself at another table on the other side of the room. The soldier tending the bar came over to take his order and Thomas asked for a mug of Lydian tea. It arrived a moment later, fresh and hot from the pantry, and he sipped at it as he looked around the room at its other occupants.

There were half a dozen soldiers present, about half the ship's complement. Most of them gathered around the table closest to the bar and laughing as they recounted their various experiences with women. The ship's alchemist was also there, he was surprised to see. A tall, thin human by the name of Parcellius whom Thomas had only seen a couple of times before. He spent almost all his time either in the small alchemy lab, which he shared with his young assistant, or in his cabin, which he'd heard was now also crowded with alchemical equipment to the point that there was almost no space left for his bed. He was engaged in several projects of his own, Braddle Bandock had told him, and was reluctant to leave them during his tour of duty aboard the ship, so he'd brought them with him and was spending every waking moment mixing and grinding strange chemicals, shunning the rest of the crew.

Thomas toyed with the idea of going over to talk with him, but then the door opened and Drenn Pietar entered. The ship's priest of Samnos. He went straight to the bar, ordered a glass of milk, and took it to an unoccupied table to drink it alone. There was a look on his face that Thomas didn't like at all. It was a look of resentful shame and self loathing, and it made Thomas get up to join him.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked, and sat across from him without waiting for an answer.

Drenn looked at him for a moment as if wondering what the wizard wanted, but Thomas remained silent. The wizard just watched him carefully, until the priest put him out of his mind and took a sip of his drink.

"Milk?" asked Thomas with a nod towards the glass. "I usually imagine priests of Samnos drinking something a bit stronger than that."

Drenn glanced at him, resentful of the intrusion. For a moment Thomas thought he would remain silent, would ignore him again, but then he spoke, his voice heavy with bitterness. "A penance," he said. "I drink what a child drinks because I made the mistake of a child. I was nearly killed by my own sword."