The Heritage

Chapter 5

Both man and boy were tired, hot, hungry and saddle sore when they finally emerged from the trees and confronted the village at dusk. At first glance it seemed pleasant enough, but as they approached their opinion changed drastically. Moraine looked better already, Jared thought, taking in the desolate looking community. Unkempt buildings. Littered streets. Even the people looked grimy and slovenly. Jared saw the concern on Jak's face and he edged his pony forward, closing the space between them.

"I may have to rethink that hearty meal and comfortable bed." Jak said.

"That looks like it might be a tavern," Jared pointed to a faded sign hanging crookedly from an iron brace over the entrance to a crumbling building.

"We'll see." Jak steered his horse over and dismounted, handing the reins to Jared. "Wait here." A moment later, he came out and told Jared to hitch his pony and bring his belongings inside the tavern.

Surprisingly, the place wasn't as bad as the outside suggested. The floor was made of stone slabs, clean but stained with years of wear and spills and the walls, although once white-washed, bore the yellowish, grey hue from thousands of candles and years of tobacco smoke. Jared followed Jak past a table crowded with a group of rough looking men who followed their passage with stern faces.

At the counter, he was surprised to see the innkeeper was a woman... a very large woman, who appeared every bit as rough as her customers. Jak ordered some food and drinks and then found a table in one corner facing the door where he stashed their belongings and sat down to face the room. The woman rolled across the room like a ship at sea, plunking down two tankards and handing Jak a long key.

"What's that?"

"For our room," he answered. "I took a quick look when I was in before, it'll do us for one night." He took a long gulp from the tankard and passed his eyes over the men across the room.

"Did she know Gaspar?"

"I didn't ask." Jak set his drink down and straightened up as the woman returned with two plates of stew. She wiped her hands on her apron and gave Jared a rotted tooth smile, asking if he wanted anything else, shrugging when he shook his head.

"Are there any boats for hire in this town?" Jak asked.

"There's fishin' boats, cargo boats and pleasure boats," the woman replied, giggling and crinkling her eyes over the last. "What's your pleasure, dearie?"

"I'm looking for a man named, Gaspar." Jak watched carefully as the men across the room suddenly leaned their heads together and began an excited murmur. "Do you know of him?"

"Aye, Gaspar DeGaul. He sails a small ketch up and down the coast for a living."

"What kind of living?" Jared blurted, nervous about the looks they were getting from the other table.

"Well, aren't you a curious pup then" The woman braced meaty hands against her hips. "What's it to you, young laddie?"

"It's nothing. Never mind." Jak said, handing her some money for the meal and hauling Jared up from the table. "What time can we get something to eat in the morning?"

"After the first crow of the cock. Best get your beauty sleeps, lads." She waddled away, cackling an ugly laugh.

The room was small and dusty with a low ceiling that sagged precariously in the centre. They pulled the straw mattresses over to one wall and set them at right angles, well clear of the roof should it collapse. A grubby window overlooked the back of the building where the shells of rotting boats lay about like driftwood. Beyond the back lot and further up the hill behind the town, Jared could see a row of small shacks with smoke curling from crude chimneys. A burst of nasty laughter echoed from the tavern below and the two looked at one another with guarded suspicions.

"Try and sleep as best you can," Jak said. "We'll leave right after eating in the morning."

******

The old man shielded his ancient eyes from a brilliant sun and aimed a bent finger at the decrepit dock running out from the shore to where the ketch owned by Gaspar DeGaul bobbed with a bored rhythm. Jak thanked the man and urged his horse down the shallow bank to the shore. Jared held the horses at the end of the dock, squinting at Jak's figure as he trod the rickety planks out to the boat.

The sea was immense. Never had he imagined so much water, and it glinted blindingly in the morning sun. A figure hopped down from the deck but the all Jared could make out through the sun's glare was a blurry silhouette. He looked back up the hill toward the town and noticed a group huddling outside the tavern and knew at once it was the men from the previous night. Worried, he turned back to the boat, surprised to see Jak and another man almost upon him.

"Jared, meet Gaspar DeGaul, owner and Captain of the Sea Surf."

Jared gaped. The man was shorter than he was, with shiny, coal black eyes that danced beneath a canopy of the thickest brows Jared had ever seen. He reached at tentative hand and gaped anew when his fingers clamped around a hard, wooden hand. Gaspar beamed a wide grin, his yellowing teeth glinting from behind a mass of whiskers.

"Taken by a greedy Hammerhead off Thunder Point while I was freein' a fouled anchor line." The voice sounded like scraping bark. Jared nodded dumbly and withdrew his hand, clenching his fingers and rubbing them on his trousers. "Yer partner tells me you want to sail to a place marked 'X', down the coast." The eyes twinkled brightly.

"Gaspar finds our little map a great source of amusement." Jak smiled indulgently. "It would seem there is only one place on this coast that it could possibly be, unless we wanted to undertake a year's voyage."

"Aye, and that's no consolation. The place you want to go is not for innocents." The little man raked them both with a knowing look.

"I'm confident that the opinion you have formed of us is equally matched by ours of you, Captain DeGaul, and also, equally misplaced. Your concern is solely to transport us to our 'X', from there we will successfully make our own way."

Gaspar snorted and slapped his leg with his wooden hand. "As you wish, Bucko. Maybe you're right. After all, who could doubt such confidence." He cackled aloud and turned, limping down the dock to his boat.

"He limps as well!" Jared exclaimed, following along with Jak.

"Apparently, he tried kicking the shark that ate his hand and suffered another nasty bite. His leg is held together in a leather harness."

"How-?"

"He showed me." Jak chuckled. "Seems Captain DeGaul enjoys relating the story to everyone."