Intemperate Seas

4

"Wait!" Cedric yelled, leaping up in alarm as the rain softly pattered against the metal of the dagger with the manicured hilt. "You don't have to do this, we can work something out."

"Why should I listen to anything you have to say?" Ilara spat. Now that she held the dagger in her own hands, she noticed a strange carving at the base of the worn but ornate hilt. She could have sworn she had seen it before. Suspiciously, she judged him. He looked like nothing more than a common pirate... mostly. There was something about the way he stood, the way he held his hands, the way he smiled and spoke softly that made her think he might not be just what he said. Annoyance suddenly filled her. She was just a poor girl from a poor family who worked themselves to the bone to make a living. How did he get such a finely carved dagger with such a finely carved symbol? Noticing her hesitation, Cedric said,

"Have you seen this before?"

"What, your dagger? Only when you held it against my throat!" Cedric looked her up and down, as if to highlight her hypocrisy as she held the dagger. She blinked once. "I think I have... I'm not sure." His stormy eyes noted her reaction.
I have to do what's necessary to escape this and get back to her. Cedric thought to himself. Picking at the only in he could find, he continued,
"This isn't the only place I've seen it," he began. Ilara had already stopped listening. Choked with pain, she remembered her father's ledger book. He had been unable to read, but kept a consistent record book on all financial transactions, and taught her that power over one's life is the most important skill to pick up. Unlike most poor fathers, he ensured his daughter knew arithmetic and numbers. She had asked him once what the symbol embossed in the leather had been, and he had just smiled and said he would explain when she was older. Cedric was still talking, the noise completely muffled to Ilara. Without meaning to, a tear fell from her eye. Thankfully he did not notice as the rain was falling more steadily now. For the first time in the last few days Ilara realized she had no idea what had happened to her father after she had been thrown off the ship, and due to the constant shifting of the islands, it was very common, even likely, for ships to land at an alternate location. That left her practically with a fool's errand. "...as far as I can tell, its an ancient cult. More of an urban legend, really. I've only heard about it a few times, and each time it was in whispers." Finished Cedric's desperate rant. Ilara looked up from the dagger straight into his gaze. He was taken aback by her glowing red eyes, glassy with some intense emotion. He thought she might be crying.

"You know what this means?" She rasped, holding the symbol clearly in view.

"Just a little... it's really more of a local myth," Her unhinged stare returned. He glanced down at the dagger again. Slowly, Ilara rested her arm against the wood of the small boat.

"I'm tired, Cedric," she blurted. "I don't want it to be like this."

"You don't have to kill me you know, if that's what you mean," He said. She stared blankly back. "You mentioned that you were heading for South Garde, or the ship was." Cedric finished awkwardly. She nodded. "We really aren't very close to there at the moment, but I'm sure there's a land around somewhere. Can't go too far without it." She blinked at him again. A very long moment passed, in which Cedric could see the tears welling and falling in a continuous stream down her cheeks. She could have killed me a few times by now, Cedric thought to himself. Just have to keep talking, distract her. "Is there something you need in South Garde? Something waiting for you?"

"I hope so. The ship could have ended up somewhere else."

"That's true, but we've had favorable winds the last few days, and..." he trailed off. She looked at him, almost hopefully. "South Garde passed us three cycles ago." Ilara let out a long breath and looked down into her hands, where she still held the dagger. She looked back up and studied him, weighing her options. Who said she had to kill him immediately? If he could get her to South Garde, and she found her father, she could kill him after. Can't I take a quick detour to make sure he's alive, and then I'll get back to my destiny? The queen's words were as a swarm of sea bees inside her skull, humming and thrumming to the point she felt an ache. She had to finish her task. She had to fulfill her destiny... she had to avenge her death. But her father, her tender hearted and wise comforter, was out there, and she couldn't continue onto her new future without ensuring his safety. As she saw the plank below her feet again, the rough wind whipping her hair so she could not make out the crowd on deck, she realized she did not know what the navy men might do to him. She was a crime but what was he? Would they have just let him go? Would he have submitted to his only family murdered? He was old, crippled. He couldn't have stopped them. The vein in Ilara's forehead felt hot and heavy. I have to find him first, I can't go on without knowing. The moment in which she held Cedric by the dagger in place was growing long. I can only hold him here so long before he tries something.

"What are you trying to say? I don't need you, I could get there must faster alone." She stated reproachfully. She was wrong, of course. A male escort was quite unfortunately the key to travel without suspicion anywhere. If she travelled into a city alone, she would be under extremely high scrutiny. Modesty laws were all over the place now a days. She herself never got to go anywhere without her father or other male relative, especially in the short time they spent in South Garde before their recent trip. Sometimes a group of girls, but never pairs, never alone. At least transportation was less of a problem, she apparently could switch between tail and legs, but who knew how long that would last, and if she needed Cedric the small row boat was essential regardless. After the fight on the ship, Ilara knew she had the strength to fight off multiple men, and that comforted her. Larger groups remain untested. How much of a threat could Cedric really be to her? She just had to keep the upper hand.

"Maybe, I don't know, I could get us there and then we can part ways." The words came slowly from him as he thought. So you're going to be difficult, Ilara thought and did not reply. Instead, she tilted the dagger and her head to the side and flashed a brilliant, shining smile. Cedric recoiled as if struck, unreadably expressive.

"I think you're going to take us there regardless. You clearly possess the knowledge and have to do what I say either way. If I catch a hint of trouble or I think you're taking us the wrong direction, I'll slit your throat and swim there myself. You're lucky I'm not a fan of rowing." With that, Ilara lounged confidently on her end of the row boat, holding the dagger in an easily utilized position. Though her mind was full of whizzing arrows, and her soul ached, she feigned an expectant air and waited for him to begin rowing wherever South Garde might be. Cedric simply blinked and picked up the oars. Got you. He thought.