The Captain's Apprentice

CHAPTER EIGHT

                  

The majority of Elden's crew lived onboard The Phoenix, but there were a few who owned homes in Rivington. Gryson was one. He had a house just beyond the castle walls where all the families of nobility lived. He was heir to a very wealthy family in Revus, the Rorak family. There was no doubt in Elden's mind that they were already attending the King's feast, getting drunk off his wine and full of his food. Another was Emlyn. He owned a home, but in a very different part of the city. He had purchased a small cottage along the dockyard when he first began his employment with The Phoenix. It was nothing more than a dry place to sleep without the dankness of the ship or the rocking of the waves to keep him up at night. Other younger crewmembers would return home to their families when they found the time. But that was almost never, and the number of people was so little Elden hardly noticed the difference when they were gone. He could only name one from the top of his head, and that was only because Samuel spoke fondly of him. Lour was his name. They were the exceptions, Gryson, Emlyn, and the few others with families like Lour. Most had no place to go. It was either that Elden had taken them in and hired them himself, or they had been ordered to work for Elden by the Crown. Neither group had a place to sleep other than the hammock or cot that Elden gave them, but they were grateful for it.

As for Elden, The Phoenix was his home. He lived there day and night, and loved every hour glass of it. He loved how the ship swayed beneath his feet as he walked. He loved how the ocean was only a few feet beyond the hull at all times. He loved waking to the smell of salt water in the morning. He loved his ship. He built it himself, with the help of Roger and Samuel. He knew it from the stem to the stern, from the hull to the Pit. It was his creation, and whenever he had to go on land he felt out of place. "You were born to sail the oceans, Elden," Roger would tell him. And when he was younger, still a child, Cringus used to say Elden's mother was Cirè, the goddess of the ocean. Elden would play along at times, simply to escape the pain, but nothing could erase the feeling of losing his mother when he was five years old. The memory of it was faint, in fact he could hardly recall her face, but he still knew who she was, or he thought he did. He would dream about her some nights, but he couldn't be sure if it was her or just some other woman of his past whom he'd forgotten. But even still he could remember what her love felt like. The feeling was deep and warmed him. He only wished he could have it in the flesh, instead of as a distant recollection from times long past.

Elden tried to wake himself as he dressed for the evening at the castle. He shook his head and slapped his cheeks, which did not cure his longing for sleep. It only made him red in the face and irritable. He slid his legs into his dark cotton stockings with light brown leather lases, put on his white tunic, and over the top a navy blue jacket with brown buttons. He felt strange when he wore this outfit. It was like a costume, a mask of fine fabrics that were nicer than any article of clothing he had ever dreamed of wearing. He remembered running around as a boy with all the other orphans in nothing more than a loincloth stealing food from the fishermen and farmers. A nock at his door brought him back to the present.

"Yes?" He said to the nock.

"Elden. It's time we leave." Roger's voice was soft as it seeped through the walls of his door. He was tired too, Elden could tell. With a sigh, Elden buttoned the last button on his jacket and opened the door, not looking forward to the evening that had somehow intruded on his night of sleep, which he so desperately longed for.

Roger stood upright at the base of the stair well that led from Elden's bedroom to the quarterdeck. He was dressed and ready to leave. He looked wise and respectable in his furled collar and royal blue vest. Everything about him was presentable, from his shined shoes to his clean shaven face. Elden wished he looked as respectable as he did Roger's glasses were the only article that looked out of place with its cracked lens. Elden had offered to replace them many times before, but Roger insisted on keeping them, saying they gave him character.