Wet Fire

A Warm Hand (E15)

Blythe

Blythe felt the warm sea breeze on his face and took in a deep breath of air, drumming his fingers on the ship's rail. It was unusually quiet that day. He was beginning to like the ocean. Except for the lapping of waves against the ship's hull, no one--not even the ship's crew--made a word. Quiet was just what he needed.

The storm had ended as quickly as it had sprung up...or so he had heard. Blythe had passed out long before the frenzy on deck and out at sea subsided. He shivered when he thought about the time he spent in the Captain's galley. At first, there had been panic. He had paced around the length of the room close to a hundred times, trying to keep his balance, trying to stay awake and alert in case he needed to for some reason, trying to think.

Tiredness took him after the pacing. The sea had calmed down somewhat and he just collapsed, sleeping, in one of Halmon's over-sized cushioned chairs. When morning came, bright white sunlight was streaming through the window as if nothing had even happened. Blythe was confident that he would never understand weather.

Weeks had passed, and their passage remain calm for the most part. Rain would come, if infrequent, and it would pass within a short while. The ship sailed swiftly and smoothly for the rest of the time, and it was nearly repaired from the major storm that first night. Bando and the two deck-hands had spent close to three straight days bucketing water from the lower levels, and the others had worked on repairing and replacing water-damaged floorboards and rails. Few of Blythe's personal belongings were damaged--thankfully.

To Blythe surprise, Bando had managed to save the Captain's life. By morning, Halmon was laying asleep in his quarters, exhausted, but unharmed for the most part. The heavy man was not accustomed to staying afloat, especially in turbulent waters. Maridene seemed relieved that he had come back--apparently she had no intention of keeping control of the ship.

These days, life on the ship was slow. Blythe would wake up in his cabin and immediately spend the next two hours laying awake in his bed, thinking about things. He had lately been pondering what would happen to him when he reached Aura. The Royal Governor did not even know that he was coming--or that Milka had been imprisoned. How would he react? The Governor would not execute him, would he? Certainly not, if he wished for his daughter to live. 

Breakfast on the ship was always rather dull compared to what Blythe was used to eating at the castle--buttered bread and cheese with cooked fish as a side and a cup of hot tea. The cook would come in at nine with a glistening silver tray and set it on his desk in the corner of the room, then leave Blythe alone to eat in peace. The crew and the Akauri apparently ate together in another room, sharing a much skimpier meal. That did not bother him. He just wished for some company.

Suddenly, he was aware of someone else near him. Blythe whipped his head around to find Maridene standing there, with both hands stuck in the pockets of her embroidered black coat. Today, her light brown hair was tied in a pony-tail, the loose strands swept back with a cream-colored strip of cloth.

"I thought I might find you here." She said, her voice steady and confident. Then she moved in beside Blythe, looking out over the ocean.

"What do you want?" Blythe asked. This was the first time Maridene had come to speak with him personally...and he felt something strange standing in her presence. It felt a little like nervousness, and a little like embarrassment. After all, he had been the fool who had thought she was Rhezda. He was the one who cowered in fear while she lead the others to safety. He had been the fool this time.

"Only to talk."

"To me? Why? I am probably the least interesting person here." That was a stupid answer, Blythe thought after a moment. It was obvious that he was the most interesting person here, even if he was a fool.