Valadel

Chapter XII

Danticus felt queasy. He never was one for sailing. The kingdom was farther away than he had thought it to be, and the captain had insisted on sailing at half mast. Most of the expedition members had gone below deck, quick to rest after such an early morning. The boat rode upon a large wave, and came down nose first, causing Danticus to dry heave. His stomach felt like the ocean, uneasy and upset.

"You look like something chewed you and shat you out," said Cristomir, walking up to him.

Danticus' throat constricted and his cheeks puffed. "I have no love for the ocean..."

"You don't have to tell me," said Cristomir, patting his back with teasing sympathy, "you know, for coming from a family of fishermen, you'd think salt water would run through your veins."

Danticus shook his head. "Blood runs through my veins...the Gods didn't fashion us to sail."

Cristomir smiled. "If that were so, we wouldn't sail, would we? Yet here we are." He peered over the rail towards the bow of the ship. A large wave was coming, and would rock the ship roughly. "And in a few moments, your supper will be all over the deck as well."

"The Gods fashioned you to bother me, didn't they." Danticus braced as the ship shook from the wave, and struggled to keep the contents of his stomach down. After a few moments, the feeling resided, and the young ranger looked around the deck. "Where is everyone?"

"Below deck. Few of em are trying to get more sleep."

Danticus felt the heavy feeling creep back up his throat. "Well, I think I'm going to join them. I'll speak with you later."

Cristomir nodded and smiled at him as his cheeks puffed with sickness.

Danticus left the railing he was leaning on and went down to the sailor's quarters. He searched for some of his team members, in hopes to get to know them better. Most were asleep, tired from waking up so early, except for Gregor and Markus, the two miners for the trip. They were talking quietly amongst themselves.

"Good afternoon, men." Said Danticus

"'Ello there, ranger." Said the older one.

"And you two are?" Danticus asked

The younger one spoke. "I'm Markus, and the old guy's Gregor. What do ya want?"

Danticus shrugged. "Suppose I was just looking for pleasant conversation. Figured I'd get to know you all a bit better. That alright?"

Gregor sniffed. "I suppose so."

"Right then. I'm Danticus Stormwell, pleasure. So...what's your story?" Danticus asked

Gregor spoke. "My story?"

"Aye. Every man has one," said Danticus

"And why do you want to know it?" he asked, his hard salty eyes staring Danticus down.

"Sorry, was I not clear before?" Danticus retorted sarcastically.

The miner looked at his friend. Markus shrugged and nodded towards Danticus, gesturing for him to tell him his life tale. Gregor rubbed his shaved head "Well...I was an infantryman for the king's royal army until I got stabbed in my knee. I was honorably discharged and lost all my money paying for all sorts of medicines and tonics. Damn greedy doctors took everything I had. I had to move from the barracks and into the slums. I needed some money, so I decided to work in the mines. I've been workin' in there ever since."

Danticus frowned empathetically. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Gregor shrugged. "I hate it. But it's honest money. Keeps me strong."