Zypheria's Call (A Tanyth Fairport Adventure) (29 page)

Tanyth gathered her courage and straightened up, holding her arms out for balance but letting go of the wall behind her.

“Bend your knees a little, mum. Let the ship just kind move under ya.”

Tanyth followed his advice and found that she had no problem standing still. The gentle swells were easy to compensate for and the more she relaxed the easier it became.

“There you have it, mum. Easy as pie.”

“How do you walk?”

“One foot after the other, mum. Same as always. Just plow right along like you’re goin’ somewhere and next thing ya know? You’re there.”

“What’s your name, young man?”

“They call me Scooter, mum.”

“Would you mind walkin’ with me to the deckhouse, Scooter? Just in case?”

“O’ course, mum, but you won’t have any problem. Just keep your head up, mum, and don’t think much about walkin’.”

She gave him a long stare, but he just shrugged his shoulders. She lifted her head and didn’t look at her feet, but the first couple of steps were a bit shakey.

“What cha gonna do when you get to North Haven, mum?”

Tanyth looked over to where the young sailor strolled along beside her. “I need to find a woman there. I hope she’ll be my teacher.” She wasn’t sure how much she should share about Mother Pinecrest given what she’d heard from Mabel Esterhouse.

“And here you are, mum.”

Tanyth looked up in surprise to discover she’d crossed the deck while she wasn’t watching.

The sailor opened the deckhouse door and held it for her. “Told ya not to think about it, mum.” He gave her a cheeky grin and she looked back across the deck again.

“Thank you, Scooter. That was quite a lesson.”

“’T weren’t nuthin’, mum. A couple bells of practice and you’ll be climbin’ the riggin’ with the rest of the deck monkeys.”

She glanced up to see a sailor hanging from the rigging high above her and the image of her being that far up was so ridiculous that she laughed aloud.

“When you’re done with that jackanapes, mum, you might come in and close the door,” Cook called. “You’re lettin’ the heat out.”

Scooter knuckled his forehead and she stepped into the deckhouse, only bumping her shoulder once on the doorframe as she walked through. He closed the door behind her.

“Good mornin’, Cook.”

“Good mornin’, mum.” Cook handed her a mug of tea. “This’ll help, mum. The less you think about it, the easier it gets.”

She took the mug and fought the urge to reach for something to steady herself.

“Just sway with the roll, mum. You’ll get it.”

Tanyth wasn’t so sure. She looked into the mug, sniffing the contents. “There’s no rum in this?”

Cook laughed. “No, mum. You slept well, though, din’t ya?”

“Yes, I did. Thank you.” She blew across the top of the mug and tried a tentative sip. The hot tea felt good going down.

“Would you care for some breakfast, mum? I’ve oatmeal or some eggs, if you’d prefer. No beans this morning, I’m afraid.”

“Oatmeal would be most welcome.”

He crossed to the stove and spooned a healthy portion into a heavy crockery bowl and drizzled a bit of honey across the top. Tanyth was so busy admiring the clever arrangement of rails around the edge of the stove that she gave no thought to what she was going to do with tea in one hand a bowl of hot oatmeal in the other.

“You can take that back to your room, if you like, mum.”

“What do the sailors do?”

Cook grinned. “Most of them just sit on the deck.” He pointed to a corner of the deckhouse opposite the water butt. “If you prop yourself in the corner there, mum, there’s a shelf you can put your tea on. It might be a bit easier than getting’ down and then back up again, if you’re not used to it and ya don’t mind eatin’ standin’ up.”

Tanyth eased herself into the corner and found a narrow ledge at waist height. It was just wide enough for a mug of tea and a small lip kept the cup from sliding off.

“Just like ’at, mum.” Cook nodded his approval. “Get that inside ya, and if ya like, there’s plenty more where it came from.” He turned to his stove again, pulling open a fire door to chuck in a couple sticks of split wood before taking his long spoon to several pots.

Tanyth spooned up the rich oatmeal. The dusky sweetness of the honey brought out a nut-like flavor in the oats. Before she knew it, she was down to the bottom of the bowl and considering whether or not to take Cook up on his offer of a second bowl.

“Where do I put this, Cook?”

He turned from his ministrations and pointed his spoon at a wide tray just inside the door. “Dirties go there. I’ll get some help here in a bit and we’ll get them cleaned up.”

Tanyth leaned over, careful not to let the rocking of the ship throw her around. The bowl wasn’t the first dish in the tray but there was plenty of room for more. “The crew hasn’t eaten yet?”

“Most of ’em are sleepin’ yet, mum. Those that ain’t on duty. Along about seven bells there’ll be a reg’lar stampede through here, though, mark my words.”

She leaned back into her corner, feeling quite comfortable with the sturdy walls to hold her up and the heavy mug cradled in her hands.

Cook shot her a glance over his shoulder. “You’re a bit different from the other ladies we’ve taken aboard, mum.”

Tanyth laughed. “Ya get many ladies aboard, do you?”

Cook finished whatever he was doing on the stove and turned to her, leaning easily on a bit of the bulkhead nearest his hip. “Well, not that many, no, mum. We’re a freighter. Not like some of them fancy boats what takes mostly passage.” He paused, glancing at the ceiling and obviously considering. “Maybe five or six a season. They don’t come out much.”

“How do they manage meals?”

“I have to take it to ’em. I’d be happy to, mum, but Mr. Groves said you’d probably be just as happy to come get breakfast.”

“Does everybody eat on deck?”

Cook shook his head. “You’re standin’ in the mate’s corner. When they’re on duty, they just stand there and eat whatever’s handy. Crew sits where they like. Cap’n Groves, now, you’ll see with dinner, I wager. He likes his sit-down dinner in the cabin, such as it is.”

“Sit down dinner?”

“Oh, aye, mum. He’s got a regular table and chairs and all in the cabin. I usually do up a couple or three plates and low man on the ladder does the servin’. Just like a big ship.” Cook smiled. “He always invites the passengers to sup with him. You’ll see, mum.”

“And the other meals?”

“We’re not a big ship, mum. We grab what we can, when we can. Nice weather like this? It’s easy pickin’s. If it gets narsty? Hardtack and hot tea, if you’re lucky. Hardtack and cold water, if you’re not.”

She finished her tea and placed the mug in the tray beside the bowl.

“Thank you, Cook. That’s much better.”

“Quite welcome, mum. Anytime you wanna cup of tea, you just come get it. I’ve always got a pot ready.”

“Good ta know, Cook. Thanks.”

“My pleasure, mum. Truly is.”

She edged out onto the deck again, already feeling a bit steadier and braved a walk all the way around the deckhouse before the biting wind cut deep enough that she turned her steps back toward her cozy room to escape it.

“Shoulda worn the heavy coat,” she muttered, glad that Mr. Groves had pointed out the shortcomings in her wardrobe. Under the circumstances, she thought she knew why lady passengers didn’t spend much time on deck. “Prob’ly don’t bring enough clothes,” she muttered.

Safely back in the compartment, she smiled at Rebecca, still curled into her bunk and took a moment to straighten the young woman’s covers, drawing them up and tucking her in.

Rebecca didn’t stir even as the bell dinged a few times somewhere above them.

Tanyth climbed back into her bunk as the only practical place to be and wondered if she would have to spend the entire trip sleeping. The brisk wind, warm food, and gentle rolling of the ship conspired to push her over the edge and back into slumber once more.

The nest moved again. She groomed herself and then the babies. They fed now and would be quiet later. She’d be able to hunt. Bread would be good and a walk to the water. There was a smell of something new in the Big Place. Sometimes there was new nest material, things she could shred with tooth and claw. For now, there was the humming that meant she couldn’t go outside. She didn’t mind. It was cozy in the den with her sisters near and the male guarding them all. Later she could explore, but now the babies needed to suckle. She shifted her weight and they pressed against her.

Tanyth awoke at the sound of feet running on deck and the memory of a bell dinging. She felt warm and comfortable in her nest. The thought set her heart racing and she all but threw herself out of the bunk, looking at her hands and feet in alarm until she counted the familiar numbers of fingers and saw her stocking-clad feet on the rough, wooden decking. She scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands and raked her hair back, feeling the coarse texture of gray, long familiar to the skin of her fingers. She took a deep breath and blew it out.

“What is it, mum?” Rebecca sat halfway up, here eyes wide in alarm. “Are you all right?”

“Not mad,” Tanyth muttered. “I’m not goin’ mad.”

“’Course not, mum,” Rebecca said. “Did you have a dream?”

Tanyth took a deep breath and blew it out. “Yeah. Dream. Scared me. That’s all.” She looked across at Rebecca. “Sorry to wake you, my dear. I don’t know what came over me.”

Rebecca shook her head. “You didn’t, mum. The bell and the stompin’ around on deck did that.”

Tanyth crossed to the small window and looked out at the sea rushing by. Long, smooth rollers stretched to the horizon even as the water’s surface dappled at the touch of the breezes flowing by. She took deep breaths and rested her forehead against the cold glass, savoring the smoothness, savoring the cool on her fevered brow.

She cast her eye around the tiny cabin. “I may not be mad now, but I might if I spend a week in here,” she murmured. Her eye caught on the deep blue of her new coat.

Rebecca put her head down on her pillow again, eyes already drooping. “What’ll you do, mum?”

Tanyth pushed the hair away from the younger woman’s brow. “I have a mind to make myself useful. You sleep. I’ll get out of here and leave you to it.”

Rebecca gave a small, contented sounding sigh and her eyelids fluttered closed again.

Tanyth pulled the coat from its peg, shrugged it on and headed for the deck.

The rolling of the ship didn’t bother her any more. Some part of her brain managed her feet without her knowledge. She strolled up and down the ship looking at everything. She climbed up to the raised portion of the bow and walked all the way to the front of the ship. For one fleeting moment, a dream she once had of a clear morning and a cold wind layered over her sight and gave her an odd feeling, but the low smudge of land that should be
there
—she turned her head to make sure—was missing. The ship’s rise and fall was more pronounced at the bow, the distance traveled greater than in the middle of the ship where the seesaw motion found its axis. The rising bow almost flung her into the air on the upward swing and the deck all but fell out from under her boots on the downward. The feeling in her belly made her giddy. She smiled into the teeth of the wind even as a frisson of fear tickled the backs of her knees.

She turned and made her way aft, passing a few sailors sitting cross-legged against the inner rail in the sun. They looked up from their work and nodded to her, each giving a friendly smile and a nod. She was surprised to see some of them knitting while others worked bits of rope or carved small pieces of wood. She felt over dressed in her heavy, new woolens while many of the sailors seemed to be comfortable sitting in short pants and shirtsleeves.

At the stern, a pair of stairways led up to a raised deck that formed the roof of her cabin. Higher than the main deck, a large, spoked wheel held pride of place behind a fat pillar. She found Mr. Groves and the bosun standing there along with another sailor who held the great wheel by its spokes, his eyes on the bow and his legs flexing to keep the wheel steady.

Mr. Groves crossed to her even before she’d gotten all the way up the ladder. “Good day, mum,” he said, offering his arm and leading her to the upper side of the slanted deck. “I see you’ve gotten your sea legs under you.”