Rage and Rebellion (Histories of Havenhearth)

2.0 Wynemere

Dock 9, Alvalerion, Capitaine Pickfordshelm. Got it. Wynemere left the room, and the building, hailing a carriage after descending the steps with her chest. She turned around to take in the building for the last time in the next half year. A wave of pride surged through her with the knowledge that she had now a very small part in the Tainish marine Protectorate, her dream come true.

The cab took her down to the sprawl of the port of Albion, the largest in Tainland with its sixteen monstrous docks.
A thick jungle of masts first came into view and then they passed the cargo sheds, large buildings which to Wynemere looked just like barns on her family's farmlands, storing incoming goods, such as beef from Quirem, or wheat from Fuchsjaegerland, tea from the colonies, and manufactured goods leaving Tainland to go elsewhere.

Wynemere spotted Dock 9 and the Alvalerion, the Tainish banner flapping in the wind on its staff at the back of the boat. The feeling of pride rushed over her again as she got out of the cab, returning into the drizzle.
"Yours is it?" The cabby asked her.
"I suppose it is," Wynemere followed the cabby's gaze upwards to the tops of the mast. "I wonder how high they are?" She wondered, looking at the ropes that crisscrossed among the three masts and the branches that came off of the yards.  Wynemere had at least learned what masts and yards were, the main vertical and horizontal poles and their branches, the sails right now rolled up around the yards, waiting to unfurl and catch wind after being rowed out to more open water. But that was pretty much all she knew, now regretting that she didn't learn more.
"Main mast is probably about one twenty from the deck, fore and mizzen a bit less." Wynemere looked at the cabby in surprise.
"Don't look so surprised girl,"
"You used to be marine protectorate?"
"Commercial. Got all the way to master mariner. It's just too tough a life, and there's too many ways to die. Or at least seriously injure yourself. Oh the adventures you'll have, just try not to fall in any case." Despite the complaints she looked up again with wist in her eyes. Although the talk had not scared Wynemere, it increased her nerves, making her feel anxious and worried about the dangers to come her way. 

But now, here she was getting on board, ready for it all to begin. A life that couldn't be any more different to her quiet, calm existence in the greenness of Elsa.

"Not like that," the tall well-built young woman, with long thick black hair tied back from her pleasant face who approached her said.
"I'm sorry?"
"Your hat." She reached out and took it off of Wynemere's hands, "Like this, under your arm." She thrust it between Wynemere's left elbow and her body. "There we go. Nice to meet you by the way, I'm Tanden Flowerfield. Who do I have the honour of addressing?" There was a roughness about her accent, which she seemed to attempt to cover with advanced speech. But she had  sparkling clear honest eyes and a kind, contented face. Wynemere wanted her to like her.
"Brackenridge, Wynemere, today is my-"
"First day? I figured. Never been to sea before, have you?"
"That obvious? I've spent my life on the river though,"
"Won't help you much here." The young woman grinned at her, a couple of years older than she, Wynemere figured. She seemed nice.
"Come on, I'll introduce you to our first mariner. You probably heard her already. Most of the time you'll hear her long before you see her. She's astern I think," Tanden led Wynemere over the deck towards the back of the boat. Astern. Back of the boat. Got it.

Silver, short hair hung over a bony, weathered, but not entirely unfriendly face. Dark eyes, set slightly too close together watched Tanden and Wynemere approach her. "Overvalley, first mariner. You know what that means?"
"No sirmaam, I -"
"It means I'm the second boss. And when I say jump, you should have jumped two minutes ago. They talk to you about tascom already greenie?"
"Yes, sirmaam,"
"Good. When you're on deck and others are working you help out or you get out of the way. Understand, fledgy?"
"Yes sirmaam," Wynemere had turned fuschia- she hadn't wanted anyone knowing it was going to be her first time at sea. "Well?" The mariner said, after a moment. Wynemere jumped as high as she could.
"We have a joker here eh Tanden."
Wynemere wanted to be polite, and so she replied "I'm sorry," hoping this would placate her new boss. When Prudena's forehead crinkled, Wynemere figured this was not what she had been waiting for.
"The task, newbie." Prudena folded her hands across her chest, and continued to stare at Brackenridge.
"Which one?"
Prudena rolled her eyes. "Help or move, greeney, did I not say I wanted things done minutes ago?"
"Yes you did, but I thought-" Wynemere turned even darker pink, as a number of other people had heard this exchange and were now laughing at her, even though she just wanted to help and learn.
"And you can't help cause you don't know what you're doing, fledgy," apparently she rotated the names she called the new combattants.
"Yes but I want-" Wynemere was fighting back tears by now, it was not the welcome she was expecting to get on board, but she swallowed them back
"which leaves.... getting out of the way," she barked the ending to her own question, and Wynemere turned, catching a glimpse of Tanden who gave her a sympathetic shrug. "And your chest too!" Overvalley called after her. Do not cry, do not cry. She strode back to her chest, ignoring the looks from anyone who had been within earshot, which with overvalley's voice, was most people on deck. Wynemere didn't even know where she was going, just away from overvalley, started dragging it back towards the front. "Don't drag it!" She heard from behind her. Wynemere considered pretending she hadn't heard, but decided that probably wouldn't help her case, so she struggled to pick the whole thing up (more laughter) and started walking away. "Down newbie! Down to the dorms!" She noticed Tanden pointing to a door in a deckhouse, which she headed for immediately, slipping as she did so. Another bout of laughter sounded, her head down, wobbling along way too slowly under the weight of the chest she finally made it inside the door to the sound of a muffled cheer and another shout for the onlookers to get back to work. "You did good, don't worry. It's a rite of passage, being shamed in front of everyone your first time aboard, here, I'll help." Somehow, Tanden had managed to get inside ahead of Wynemere, and she grabbed the chest and took it down the steps. "Thank you."  Tanden led Wynemere along a narrow hallway and turned into the first space that opened up off of the hallway, a dark room filled with bunks."The carpenter and sailmaker and cook and other non-fighting protectorate stay there," he pointed down the hallway. "You'll be in here with the other greens." Wynemere ducked to go in. There were two bunks on each side of the room, very little space above or below each and not much space between the two rows either. A small table was attached to the wall under a small porthole. Behind her above her head was a shelf for the storage of luggage, upon it stood only a single canvas bag, much smaller than Wynemere's chest.
"Four beds. And there will be three of us in here."
"That's good!" Wynemere said, "isn't it?"
"Yes it certainly is."
"So you're in here too?"
"Yes, this bed's mine."
You can take the lower one on the other side if you want." Wynemere slid her chest under the low bunk and sat down on what was to be her place of rest for the next few months.
"Someone else is coming?"
"One other trainee."
Not wanting the conversation to die, and wanting to ingratiate herself to Tanden, "so overvalley, eh? A ray of sunshine isn't she?"
"Yeah, don't let her worry you, she's fine when you get used to her, treats everyone as if they are all equally stupid."  Wynemere laughed.
"And the Capitaine? Pickforsdhelm? I've heard good things," Tanden nodded.
"All true, she's great. A great boss, as it were. We're actually lucky to be on her ship I think. Only unusual thing is that her husband's coming with us."
"When will I meet her?" Wynemere enquired.
"She's not on board at the moment, but as soon as she is, I'm sure you will. In the meantime, how about a tour? We'll just have to avoid you-know-who."