Roman looks up, surprised that she's noticing him again.  Perhaps the novelty has worn off her animal games.  "Death, the different ways it comes - and how the living deal with it".

James looks a little uncomfortable, he hadn't expected to be asked for advice on how to hold Tarrek's funeral.  Still, he tries, "Well, where I come from, I understand that the custom is to wrap the deceased in sailcloth weighted with lead or something similar and to sew the wrap closed."

"Then there's usually a ceremony on deck when people can say something about the deceased - something nice about how they'll remember him.  I'm sure Tarrek would've, well, perhaps you ought to be one of those that speak.  And maybe toll the ships bell."

"When all is said and done the body is placed on a plank or board, you place it over the rail and tilt till the body slides into the sea."

"I guess for special burials they might've used good linen or one've the ship's flags.  I'm not sure."

James looks to the Captain to make sure he hasn't stepped out of line or offended her.

"Aye, that sounds pretty much as I recall it." Rovane says, thoughtfully, "I always feel like there should be more to it, though."

"Maybe it's just that I never feels quite right doing funerals."

She glances towards where Roman and Banglen-Yp are talking, a little way off, then back to James, with a half-smile, "I'll just go with what I remember, I suppose."

 

Surprised at seeing Roman surprised at something, Banglen-Yp was glad he was talking to her again.  She almost wondered if she had offended someone by joining the group on the ship, but she could not figure out how or why.

•• Oh • death ••

She nodded and smiled gently at him.

•• Yes • dying is a big part of living ••

A simple statement, said in a voice suggesting nothing beyond stating a fact.

•• In some ways the biggest part ••

Her gaze locked with Rovane's briefly and she sent a nod to the captain.



                    Then, a murmur.



 

"A part of living I hope to avoid for a long time yet..." Roman comments.  "I would count myself fortunate to live out my full span and die peacefully in my sleep".

 

•• Been there • done that • got the T-shirt •• There are worse things ••

All said with a straight face, and that slightly odd smile still lingering.

 

Roman shrugs, thinking Does she mean she's died ?  She's strange enough as demons go for it to be possible.    "Dying is somewhat final for most of us.  If the experience is not so bad, there is still the loss of what might have been.

"I know what you mean."  James agrees wholeheartedly with the sentiment.  What he doesn't say is that the Captain should be grateful there's time for a funeral and a body to be disposed of with dignity and respect; James remembers far too many left to rot where they lay.  His hand moves unconsciously towards his neck for a moment before he remembers that he is not wearing his dog tags.

"If you'd excuse me Captain, I'd like to have a quick word with Tahirah."

When they are alone James continues, "I'm probably being over-cautious, but if you do get an opportunity to inspect the body could you check it for any signs of foul play?  The warning I got has me a little uneasy."

 

•• Life is loss • why should death be different ••

A small shrug went with that deadpan statement.

•• Beside • what might have been is there with every choice made when alive too ••

She tilted her head at him briefly, before bending down to scoop up the kitten who came trundling towards her, as heavily as a kitten can.  She bored her nose into its neck, at which the kitten started to purr.

Then came a whispered statement.

•• Nine lives ••

 

Tahirah is quiet for a moment, perhaps weighing whether James's request would be too disrespectful.    "As you like," she says, finally.  "Perhaps while I am encloistered, you might arrange for yourself or Roman to watch, and assure that I am not interrupted without at least a moment's notice?  My attention will be... occupied, if I am to do this, and would not care to give offense."

Roman shakes his head at the oddity of discussing philosophy with this child-woman.  "A choice closes some paths and opens others.  Death, for most of us, closes all paths.  Look after your little friend.  Nine lives may not be enough for a young and vulnerable life, caught up in a war."

 

•• I shall • and he shall see more •if he so chooses ••

Most likely the strange blonde talked about the little kitten in her arms, as she looked at and mewed to it after having spoken to Roman again.

•• Life • per definition • is vulnerable •• It is the very idea of it • making it precious ••

Her gaze went to him again.

•• Even for ever ends ••

 

"I will keep watch,"  James confirms.  "I don't really mean for you to be intrusive or disrespectful, just if there's something obvious or it doesn't feel right.  I don't know."

While Banglen-Yp and Roman discuss the meaning of Life, the Captain shows James and Tahirah to where Tarrek lays.  For lack of any better place, he has been moved to the hold, while the ship's carpenter works on a coffin for him.

The body iw wrapped in a thin wool blanket, and rests on a couple of boards laid across a pair of trestles.

There is a definite atmosphere on Seahorse this morning, obvious to everybody (except, perhaps, Banglen-Yp).  The crew are working at their various tasks, though they are unusually subdued.

"The less vulnerable my life is, the better I like it" declares Roman, not mentioning that that is the attitude that got him into this situation.

And so, as Tahirah works in the hold, ostensibly preparing Tarrek for his funeral, James sits on close to the open hatch which provides all the light that the white robed woman has to work with.

Roman and Banglen-Yp are discussing vulnerability and life, though the strange woman seems more occupied with what is happening around her, everything from the constantly changing, yet immutable, ocean itself, to the work of the crew, and the antics of the kitten which seems to accompany her wherever she goes.

Captain Rovane smiles briefly at the sight of the small cat, followed by a frown, as she wonders where the other one has disappeared to.  She hopes it hasn't fallen overboard and drowned.  A bad omen like that, at about the same time that Tarrek passed away, would likely see her looking to hire a lot of new crew at Amber.

James, true to his word, keeps watch from the hatchway above while Tahirah conducts whatever ministrations she feels appropriate.  There's not much to watch; sailors are a pretty superstitious bunch and James thinks it unlikely that they'll try to interrupt.

He does spot the Captain's worried frown and makes a mental note to ask Banglen to put in an 'appearance' at the funeral.

Tahirah stands quietly beside the body, the way someone might stand by a friend in a coma.  Not really with the expectation of awareness on the friend's part, but...just in case.

Time passes, and the ship moves on, cutting through the waves at a good pace.  If not for the corpse in the hold, her crew would probably be in good spirits.

An island slides by, a couple of miles to starboard, and the cries of a seabird colony carry across the intervening distance... many thousands of them circling the cliffs and plunging deep into the water below in search of food.  Rovane makes a course correction, turning the ship hard to port, and holding to the new heading as the island drops away to stern...

 

The strange blonde - it is what she is at the moment, at least - only smiled and Roman.  As time passed she watched everything around her, as if trying to memorise it.

Her eyes trailed the island.


                                        Islands in the stream

                                                                                                                        That is what we are

                                                                                No one in-between

                                                                                                                                                                How can we be wrong


                                                            Sail away with me to another world


          Another world.

 

Tahirah hums quietly to herself.  Or maybe it's to the corpse.

One of the mariners steps up to the wheel, where he engages in quiet conversation with the ship's captain.  It only takes a few minutes, but when it's over, Rovane hands the wheel over to him and steps away.  She makes her way around the deck, stretching, yawning, and stopping every so often to watch the activities of her crew-

Still, there is the subdued atmosphere, but the men are, at least, performing their duties.

Eventually she reaches the spot where Roman and Banglen-Yp are talking.  She greets the two passengers, "We make good time this morning.  Maybe Terrek's spirit pushes the wind into the sails."  No sooner are the words out of her mouth than her expression falls, and she glances at the nearest of the sailors, to see if there is any sign that any of them have heard her.  Then a quick change of subject...

"Did ye have a comfortable night?"


At the hold, James sits near the hatch, keeping watch, while Tahirah does her mysterious work with the deceased Tarrek...

"I slept well enough, Captain" Roman replies. "Whatever the reason for the fair wind, it is good news.  Our errand is urgent, and the sooner we arrive the happier I will be". And it gets the waiting over...I hope that the Amberites won't be too hostile...

Time has passed, and continues to do so.

Finally, after a time which seems much longer than it really is, Tahirah emerges from the hold.

Rovane notes the white robed woman's reappearance, and with a nod to Roman and the quietly thoughtful Banglen-Yp, she hurries across to speak to James and Tahirah.  "Is all well?  Can we start the funeral?"  Her expression is hopeful, as if she wants to get this matter ended as soon as possible,