Yuragwyn: Yours

---Chapter 21

∞Kaitra∞

Morning light pierces the storm and drives it away, leaving a calm sea behind. We burst out of our cabin for want of air not perfumed by wet pegasus. Land looms out on the horizon to our left.

Traugott pulls out his maps and compass. We wait quietly for a verdict. Finally, he speaks. "We see the knoll in Lohorn off to our left. Sail north and west. We are off course, yes, but not far."

And those were the only words that day and the next. We became accustomed to the silence, only opening our mouths for food. Even the pegasuses were quiet. The only consistent noises were those of the waves and our oars, beating in rhythm, from the dawn to the dusk.

The first word said on the morning of the third day was "land" from the cracked lips and voice of Traugott. The sudden noise made us all jump and crane our necks to look at this intrusion upon our watery world. Traugott hands me his paddle--I had been resting while Calanthe steered-- and fiddles with his maps. "It's Northern Isle."

"Do we get off in broad daylight?" Calanthe whispers.

"I see no other way. Northern Isle is a quiet, mostly uninhabited place. If need be, we can sleep in thick brush on shore until dark. Now I wish I had packed dresses for you girls."

"Well, Traugott, you shall be grateful of me now," Briallen says dryly, her ochre eyes glistening behind her dark lashes. "Lady Carys had me pack three dresses."

Calanthe squeals a bit with delight, "A real dress! It's been ages since I was able to wear one."

Briallen pulls three traditional dresses out of her pack and hands two of them to Calanthe and me. Mine has a black waist coat and a corset, which I have had yet to encounter. Calanthe's waistcoat and corset are dark gray, and Briallen's are black as well. Calanthe holds hers up to herself and swishes around the small deck as though it were a ball gown, not a wrinkled commonplace. Suddenly though, I too want to change out of my thick, dark pants and tall boots and feel feminine for a moment, instead of soldierly.

Traugott nods his head and smiles. "Good! This is much better than traditional Yuragwynian army uniforms. I'll have to make do until I can buy a set of Granzian common wear. Go change then!"

We change one by one in the little cabin room, and Calanthe helps me with a simple braided up-do. The fabric is soft, comforting, almost like a thin blanket. I have missed these dresses. They remind me of the simplicity of life in Cordina. And to think I had tried everything I could to get away from that place! I would crawl back there on my hands and knees for a bath and a bed.

The corset, though, is another matter. It goes around my middle, the smallest part of me in order, apparently, to make it smaller. It restricts my breathing and flexibility, and every time I twist the ribbing pokes me. I squirm uncomfortably in it before giving up and sitting down.

The skiff beaches on Northern Isle by mid-morning, and we drag our packs onto the grass. I stumble a bit at the hard, unmoving ground. Though I still don't trust boats, I had gotten used to the gentle lull of the sea. We pull the packs onto our backs and move forward, towards foreign civilizations and our deaths.

₰Traugott₰

The small acropolis we come to on Northern Isle is sparsely inhabited and loosely connected to the main country of Granziar, as I had hoped. Here we are able to familiarize ourselves with the valuable information that is common knowledge to Granzians, including the war efforts in our own country. The man who fits me for my clothes tells me about the large battles being fought in the open lands of Lohorn and through the countrysides of Bishat and Pina. As of yet, Yuragwyn is still holding, but Granziar appears to have the upper hand. Time is running short.