"It'll be no trouble, and it'll work.  Sometimes we get new crew aboard, and some of 'em don't cope well with rough weather, at first, so the cook has this special recipe."

Leaving Tarrek at the helm, she heads off again, heading below, only to reappear a short while later, moving about the deck, berating the crew for their laziness and general lack of seamanship.  None of them seem to take her remarks seriously, and just continue as they were.

The cook brings James a steaming mug of tea, so big that he almost has to carry it with both hands, and advises the seasick passenger to drink it all, while it's still almost too hot to swallow, or he won't get the full benefit.


The hours pass, and the weather continues fair, and soon there is no sign of the land behind, not even the mountaintops.  And still the lone dolphin continues to dance around the prow.  A fact which, together with the presence of the cats aboard (even if they seem to have hidden somewhere, perhaps to sleep) is generally agreed to be a Good Sign by the entire crew...

With the passage of time the cook's home (galley?) remedy seems to do the trick.  Feeling a lot more comfortable, James leaves his position by the rail.  Passing close to the patrolling Captain he advises, "I'm going to our cabin for a lie down.  Pass my thanks to cook, his tea has been a great help.  I wouldn't be surprised if I skip dinner all the same."  With that, he heads below to sling his hammock.

"No," Tahirah replies to Roman, watching James leave.  He looks greener than usual, even after the draught from the captain...she wonders if he can turn into a storm, also.

After a moment in which it probably seems she's going to leave it at that, she says, soundig far more like an ordinary person than usual, "I've never been away from Charyk.  It's a little bit...overwhelming.  But I like most of it, so far."

Roman nods, gravely.  "I see.  Perhaps it is as well that we are headed this way, then.  Although the regions we have passed through have been somewhat..cosmopolitan, at least at this end of reality things are more stable."  Attempting a small joke he goes on "Still if you miss the monsters, the Black Zone could be worth a visit..."

 

•• What shall we do with the drunken sailor •
• What shall we do with the drunken sailor •
• What shall we do with the drunken sailor •
• Early in the mooorning ••

Banglen-Yp came dancing across the floor, bare foot and wearing some kind of white and blue outfit.  She seemed to experience no ill effect from the rocking of the ship whatsoever, and it did not hamper her dance, which was surprisingly well performed - a jig of some sort, to those knowledgeable in such things.

•• My mommy always said there were no monsters • no real ones • but there are ••

She stopped near her two companions and tapped the side of her nose, grinning.

•• The water is nice • you should try it ••

 

As Tahirah's voice emerges, it is definitely amused.  "I believe we are beset by monsters enough," she suggests.  "But perhaps someday I will visit.  Is that where you are from?"

Banglen-Yp's comment startles her rather more.  She knew the Worlds that the Roads wound along were, indeed, different worlds, with differet people and different rules...but she still has a hard time imagining how anybody could say there are no monsters.  "Water," she muses, moving on.  "The inimical source of life.  The sea combines Water, without which nothing can grow; to salt, with which nothing can grow.  It is...beautiful.  Terrifying.  Fascinating.  How does one `try' such a thing?" she asks, curiously.

 

Banglen-Yp smiled happily at the seer and said cheerfully.

•• It is not hard • just jump into it ••

She mimicked a jump.

•• But if you swim slowly perhaps best use a rope •• I find that doll fin makes for a good swim • though ••

Some helpful and honest advice, it sounded like.

•• You can adopt • yes ••

That one was definitely a question, aimed at the woman.  What it actually meant might be less obvious.

 

"Before anyone else goes swimming, perhaps you would like to tell us if there are any monsters down there ?" Roman asks.  "And, since we are moving between worlds it would not do to get too far from the ship - it would be too easy to get lost."

 

Putting her chin in her hand and looking up at the sky, the strange blonde pondered.

•• Other than me ••

It sounded every bit like a rhetorical question.

•• Not that I saw • but then • one persons monster is another persons pet ••

She smiled, perhaps happy to have been able to be of assistance.

•• Not sure we move fast enough • but if we do water skiing will keep you close to the ship ••

Another lovely idea, cheerfully offered.

•• But a rope will keep you close either way • and if you want I can keep watch too ••

 

"Shouldn't be monsters in these waters." Rovane chips in, overhearing some of the conversation, "If the truth be told, I was sirprised to see the dolphin, wherever it's gone to now.  They're not so common at this time of year."

"If any o' ye want to try the water, we can drop a rope over the side for ye.  But I'd say ye shouldn't do it just now.  D'ye see that crag, there, off the port bow?" she indicates an obsidian spire, jutting up from the ocean a couple of miles ahead.  Rising perhaps eighty feet, but no more than twenty feet wide at its base, it glitters in the afternoon sun, razor-edged and cruel as a needle, like a huge knife thrust up from the waves.

"It's called Tooth Rock, but not 'cause of the way it looks.  The waters at its foot are home to sharks.  Lots of the bastards.  As we get closer, some'll swim over to see who we are, follow a bit, and then go back home."

"Some captains let their men feed the things, or throw stuff at 'em.  Not me.  I don't see any sense in encouraging 'em, or annoying 'em."


Seahorse moves closer to the monolith, and sure enough, fins start to appear in the water, and great, grey shapes, moving beneath the surface.

Something else too... floating wreckage...

James is blissfully unawares of Tooth Rock and its lurid history as he slumbers fitfully in his hammock in the group's cabin.

At the appearance of the sharks, Roman comments.  "Not a good time to learn to swim. "  Noting the wreckage, he grimaces and adds "We should prepare for danger.  The sea lanes to Amber should be safe as waters go, but no sea is entirely safe.  This flotsam may be merely the result of a mishap - maybe it has even drifted in from somewhere off our route.  But it could be a sign of hostile action.  Someone may be attempting to block this route."

"And learning, I should need," Tahirah agrees.  She listens to Rowan's cautions, not entirely following the terminology, but grasping the gist of it well enough, as she watches the wreckage float by.

The ship skirts the dangerous waters near Tooth Rock, keeping well away from the savage reefs which are sometimes exposed in the troughs between waves.  The sharks accompany the ship, occasionally rolling at the surface, raising a dead black eye, as if to study the tasty morsels looking down from rail.

Tahirah looks out into the water silently, her fingers moving idly as she watches driftwood bob past in the water.  "The storm," she murmurs, after a bit.  "Not the Rocks.  The storm caught them, too far from shelter.  Far from here, worse than what was felt at Cardiniagart.  Reaching out like a hand; caught, smashed, and scattered..."  She trails off, tilting her head slightly.  "Scattered," she repeats.  "There is too much here, so far from the center.  This did not befall a single ship.  These are the remains of..."  She hesitates, and then turns to Roman.  "A Sailing?  What are many ships together called?"

Roman muses "Many ships ?  Could be a fleet or a flotilla or a convoy or only a squadron.  I think it dpeends on how many and whether they are warships or traders.  Can you tell that much ?  It might be worth knowing whose ships they were and what they were doing.  Amber does have means of controlling the weather around here..."

"There's places a little further east that likes to send their merchants out in convoys, escorted by their navies, the usual excuse being to protect from pirates over that way." Rovane comments, then shakes her head, "Most sailors've got enough brains in their skulls to realise that it's just an excuse to send a couple of warships out with them.  Being able to send their military to a foreign port makes a kingdom look strong."

She considers Roman's second question for a moment, then, "The weather this close to Amber's usually good, and better the closer ye get.  Mind ye, there's always storms around this time of year, and this year they've been worse than normal."

"Some of the lads reckon that there's trouble somewhere, and the gods're too busy scrapping among themselves to keep an eye on things."

"That's just superstition and nonsense, though."

She makes an odd gesture, a quick movement of her hand, touching the tips of her first two fingers to her lips, then to her brow and, finally, to the ship's wheel

Roman shakes his head.  "I've never heard of Gods meddling here.  But Amber does have that power.  THe question is, whether they used it."

Rovane shrugs, "Who can say?  I've heard more tales about Amber, and what her lords can and can't do, than my entire crew's had hot dinners.  I tend to take them with a pinch of salt, and try to avoid getting into situations where I'm likely to find out the truth behind the rumours."

"Always seemed like the wisest course to plot, d'ye see?."

She looks to the sky again, as if seeking reassurance that the weather still promises to hold fair, then looks back to the main deck, where one of the crew, a thin, stoop-shouldered man, is just making his way into the main passage.  He raises his eyes to meet her gaze, then glances at the nearby passengers, before stepping inside.

"So long as the voyage goes well, I'd as soon remain ignorant of what they can do, should they put their minds to it."

James remains safely ensconced (en-hammocked?) below-deck.

 

Banglen-Yp, at some point, has moved off and are alternating chasing or being chased by the other kitten.

As before, one kitten seem quite interested in the ongoings while the other is more like a typical kitten, although both of them do their share of stalking and ambushing unsuspecting prey.

Even so, they always seem to pick a sailor that are not busy with something crucial.

 

The cabin door opens, and one of the sailors enters, turning to ensure that the door is closed again behind him.  As he faces back towards James, he straightens up, losing the hunched shoulders, and growing taller.

"James." says Benedict, with the barest of nods, "I have new instructions for you."

A glance around the room, and the Amberite moves away from the door, placing his back against the curve of the hull, in a position where he can observe the skylight.

"Follow your own plan."

"So long as the voyage goes well", Roman echoes "Aye, but that's the question is it not ?  A convoy or a fleet wrecked by a storm.  Was it natural or was it sent.  And if 'twere sent, by whom and for what purpose ?  I would be a good deal more comfortable knowing, for then we would at least know the danger."

James rolls around so that he is sitting rather than lying in his hammock.

"Hello Benedict,"  James smiles in quiet amusement, "I was planning to.  But new instructions from whom, if you don't mind?  And why overrule Corwin?"

The answer was obvious really.  If James was trying to sneak into Amber there were better ways of going about it than taking ship.  James was much more interested in finding out the details of his 'new insructions'.  He was also curious about Benedict's defensive position: Was it Benedict's native caution or something more immediate?

Tahirah turns away from the sea, to face Roman.  "Those are deeper questions," she says.  "More than I might seek in simple Leipsomancy." 

She glances about the ship, and quickly decides that if there's one thing she's going to dislike about sailing, it's the lack of convenient seating arrangements.

With a small mental shrug, she slides down to sit cross-legged on the deck, and withdraws her deck of cards.  As she begins to pull them out and set them down, she makes sure to lay them out lightly - they won't slide too far, and she wants the reading to draw from the sea.  Her usual crisp triangles come out turned, cards slipping over to touch on other cards, but...it's a chaotic situation she seeks to discern.