Benedict, even leaning with his back to the wall, and speaking quietly and calmly, doesn't appear relaxed.

"Corwin agrees with me.  Too many ears at Cadiniagart.  So we gave you false orders."

His eyes briefly follow the sound of footsteps crossing the deck above, before coming back to James, "Hoped to get people looking the wrong way."


Rovane shrugs, "It's the season for storms.  They happen more'n I care to think about.  Aye... bad ones sometimes, too."

James was unconvinced.  Any heads that Benedict hoped to turn would surely realise their mistake as soon as James announced himself in Amber.  The only benefit would be to draw attention away from his means of travel - Ah!  Maybe that was why Benedict was tense.

"Fair enough.  I think I'd best go and warn the others to be on their guard.  I take it you wish to remain anonymous?"

Tahirah sweeps her cards back up and stands again.  "I see nothing to indicate... intent, behind the storm.  There is only the harsh chaos of the weather at sea."

She's a bit proud of that one.  She knows the sea is harsh, because she'd heard caravanmasters talk about it now and again - the comparison usually running that the monsters surrounding Charyk were undeniably vicious, but at least you could count on them.  The Sea, it seems, just doesn't care.

"But the fleet was made of up many nations," she adds, in case that's important.  "I sense no lingering threat to our own voyage," she finishes, directing the note mostly to the captain.  "But...there is very much that is random to the sea; I can say little with certainty," she admits.

 

As if on cue, a small kitten pounces the last of the cards as it is gathered.  Despite the lack of claw it seems proud to have caught something, even though it is neither a rat or very edible.

Before it can test the latter the second, and more studying kitten comes along and seems amused by the first one's antics.  It nudges the first one gently and looks up at the woman.

Almost as if trying to slide the card towards her it lets out a small and happy mewl, still holding a paw on the card but evidently not intent on keeping it.

The first one does not seem to mind, but starts to stalk the tail of the second kitten instead, its rear end lifting up in preparation of a devastating surprise attack, much like it just exercised on the unsuspecting card.

 

Roman nods.  "At least it is no threat to us,  Mayhap we'll have the good fortune to avoid danger before reaching port."

He doesn't add that the port has danger enough.

"Of course." is Benedict's short reply to James' question about keeping his presence here anonymous.


Rovane laughs quietly at Tahirah's assessment, "Uncertainty is the best we can expect from the sea.  Hope for the best, plan for the worst, and expect to get both, as the saying goes."

She watches the kittens for a moment, then looks back to her passengers, "If the weather stays as it is, which is not certain, by any means. not at this season, but if it does, we should make port late the day after tomorrow."

She kisses her fingertips, and touches them to the wheel.

"With luck."

Tahirah watches the kittens curiously, taking the card from the second kitten, and holding it loosely between two fingers as she finishes talking to Roman and Rovane.    "That is a good saying," she decides, as she settles back down to sit on the deck.

She gives the card a curious glance, before it vanishes back into her sleeve with the others.  Change.  Prominent as it was in the Reading, she's not surprised to see it again, though she had thought it was among the first she had picked back up.

She picks up a nearby bit of rope, and then follows its length to make sure it's not currently attached to anything important.  Confirming that it's currently just coiled on the floor, deck, she begins arranging the end of it into a strange configuration in front of her.

After a few moments, the rope starts to twitch, and then the end lifts itself up slightly, to wave somewhat randomly in the air before the kittens...

 

As the woman picked up the card, the second kitten released it - and the first kitten pounced the tail of the other.

After a few moments of wrestling and playful kicking and biting the two kittens stopped, locked in half an embrace with one kitten having placed a paw on one of the other kittens eyes while having its own tail partly chewed on.  But they had frozen in that position and watched the contraption take shape in the hands of the white-clad lady.

As the rope began to twitch both kittens, as if having trained this manoeuvre for many days, lunged at the rope, somehow untangling themselves in an instant.

Both of them missed the twitching rope and landed at nearly the same instant.  The first one hoisted up his rear and prepared to pounce once more while the second instead began to stalk the tail of the first one.

In this case, clearly payback was a fluffy little kitten.

 

The weather continues fair, and the ship seems to make good time, at least in Rovane's expert judgement,  With the rock, and it's sharks far behind, and no other landmarks in sight on the endless expanse of water, she still seems anle to judge their progress with some degree of accuracy.

At least, she gives that impression, and the passengers are in no position to disagree with her assessments.

The afternoon rolls past, in pleasant conversation, and the entertaining play of the kittens (followed by their falling asleep).

Eventually Rovane announces that dinner will be ready soon, and that the passengers can take it in their cabin, or on deck, as they see fit.


Below, James is alone again.  The cook's special brew has ensured that the amberite doesn't even have seasickness to keep him company.  His visitor, Prince Benedict, no less, has returned to his shipboard duties, with all the expertise of a man who has spent a great many years performing such tasks.

During the afternoon James reappears from belowdecks.  He spends much of his time as before, propped against a railing and trying to stay out of the way.  It appears, however, that he's feeling better and his face has resumed its normal colour.

He does make time to stop at wherever Roman and Tahirah happen to be and he spends some time playing with the kittens.  In each case his purpose is to deliver a short message, "Stay alert.  I had a visitor downstairs with a warning from Benedict.  There may be an attempt made to stop us reaching Amber."

James stays with the kittens longer than is strictly necessary, making quick, scurrying motions across the deck with his hand or twitching the end of a line back and forth to tease them.  James' enjoyment is tempered only by the lingering thought that one of these is not a kitten and the possibility that the stunning young woman is also nothing but an assumed form.

When dinner is called, James decides to eat with the crew.  He's not sure how much food he'll be able to stomach just yet but he intends it as a gesture of thanks to the cook and the Captain.  It will also give him the opportunity to scrutinise most of the crew.

 

The kittens found themselves quite busy playing with everything offered as well as one another and a few things not offered as well.  They leap like dangerous predators in a rather cute and cuddle manner, missing more than striking true, they tumble and roll, climb and stalk, looking ever so amused.

Then, as if on a signal, one of them simply fell asleep while chasing a particularly elusive target, right as he was climbing over the other kitten to get to it.

That kitten, the most curious and keen one, took this extra thick blanket with the kind of relaxed calm only cats can, although she did reach out with a paw to capture the tail of her kitten-blanket, stirring a few twitching paws and whiskers in return.

Not much later dinner was called and as if knowing this despite being asleep, the "blanket" woke up and bounded away, closely followed by the now rather well flattened other kitten.

 

Dinner, as it turns out, consists largely of bread and a sort of stew made mostly from fish.  To drink, there is wine, weak beer, or water.

Rovane eats at the wheel, and has the same meal as everybody else.

Half crew eat quickly, and return to their duties immediately, so that the other half can have their own dinner.  The Captain eats just as quickly, but the passengers are allowed to take their meal at their own pace.

By the time the second half of the crew have finished eating, the sun has dropped almost to the horizon, and the air is definitely growing cooler.

Tahirah gives a nod of understanding to James' warning, noting, "I have seen no interference yet."

She quietly takes her own meal to the cabin, eating privately.

Roman eats wherever seems most convenient.  The fare is simple, but that is to be expected under the circumstance.   In other circumstances it would be easy to snatch better food with the Logrus, but here that would be unwise.  Just as it would have been unwise on the earlier stages of the journey, before falling in with this strange crew.

The sun touches the western horizon, in a sky painted crimson, and broken up by narrow, black bands of cloud.

"Fair weather again, on the morrow." Rovane comments to any who are close enough to listen.  "Often the way after a storm."  Her voice and expression seem very satisfied, and an observer might get the impression that the good weather was something she had arranged herself, and that she is well pleased with the result.

And so, Seahorse sails on, into the gathering twilight, as the stars come into view overhead.  Constelations which are familiar to some of her passengers, as they draw closer to home, and wholly alien to others, travelling from much further afield.  To at least one, even the concept of fixed patterns of stars seems truly bizarre.

 

At dinner it had been the blonde beauty that had sat down to eat.  Where the material came from, for those knowing or suspecting, nobody knew, but there she was in all her glory, if that was what it was.


Later on she is on deck again, watching the crew as well as the sunset, smiling happily as if she knew something no one else knew.

 

With darkness falling, and exhaustion sweeping over most of her passengers, Seahorse sails on, into the night...

The great ocean remains relatively calm, and there is a shift in the wind which causes Rovane to reassess her estimate of their sailing time, and order that more sail be used.

Dawn comes, and the sky is pale and clear, as the ship pushes on towards Amber.

Not all has gone so well though.

It rapidly becomes apparent that the ship's mate, old Tarrek, has passed away during the night... and the mood on the ship seems subdued this morning.

When news reaches him of Tarrek's passing, James seeks out Captain Rovane.  "I'm very sorry for your loss - and the ship's loss.  We don't know your funeral customs and what have you, but if there's anything we can do to help please let us know."

James would very much like to examine the body for any signs of foul play but he strongly suspects that such a suggestion would be very offensive to the crew, so he refrains.

Tahirah also finds the Captain, although no one has told her the news specifically.  She stays a respectful distance as James addresses her, and then steps forward slightly, with one of her quiet bows that seem to be the equivalent of a schoolchild raising her hand.

"Where I come from," she says quietly, "It was a custom that some would request of me to spend a time of Solitude with the departed.  Many beliefs and hopes passed through Charyk; I offer no guidance nor blessing, only...company.  In respect for the welcome we have received here, I would offer this to master Tarrek, if you desire it."

Roman is unsure what is to be done - dying of old age is something of an achievement in his home realm, but it is less so for the ephemeral inhabitants of lesser lands.  Shaking his head he lets thos emore familiar with such a situation do what is to be done.

The captain nods her thanks to James, "We don't often see deaths aboard Seahorse that weren't through accidents, and we don't see many of them.  If ye've knowledge of how to prepare the dead for the last voyage, and how to send them on the way, I'd be grateful for the help.  I don't remember it perfectly, I know that, and Tarrek deserves a proper sending."

Banglen-Yp appears on deck, carrying just one of the kittens.  She seems to be her usual self this morning, despite the pall which seems to hang over the ship.  Certainly she is aware that something has happened, for she sits at the rail, staring intently at the faces around her, but it is entirely possible, from her expression, that she does not understand the meaning of what has occurred.

With Tahirah's offer, Rovane smiles, albeit sadly, "Are ye a priestess, of some kind?  Ye've the air of one, and right enough.  Even if ye're not, though, I'm sure Tarrek'd appreciate yer company, while he gets ready for his last voyage."

 

Letting the kitten down when it began to get restless - there were so many things to investigate after all - Banglen-Yp remained perched on the rail, watching the exchange between the others with big, round eyes that appeared to take everything in.


                                                                                Death.


                                        Fragments of memory.


                                                                                                                                                                Distant.


                                                  Alive.


                                                                                          Still alive.


A gentle smile spread over her features as she looked away into the distance, starting to hum on a quiet song, a slow song, both sad and hopeful at the same time.

 

Roman moves slowly to the rail, to stand near Banglen-Yp.  Who knows what the blonde will do, or how the crew will react ?

 

The blonde looked at Roman as he approached, and then, once he was standing next to her, spoke.

•• Hello Roman • what is on your mind ••

It definitely was a question, that latter part.

She tilted her head as she looked at him, the smile still remaining as before.

 

"A priestess?"  Tahirah considers that.  "Something like, perhaps."  She gives one of her bows, a bit deeper than usual.  "I shall be glad to watch over him a time, then."