Renee- I’m glad you agree that waterwalking amulets for river and coastal ship travel seem to make sense. I bet the weather will indeed be mostly overcast and/or rainy in County Leyawiin. Perhaps with a few bolts of red lightning. . . .
![ohmy.gif](style_emoticons/sinders/ohmy.gif)
Thank you!
ghastley- Like you, SubRosa and others, I like to try to show some practical uses for magic in such a magical world. Thank you!
SubRosa- With Buffy considering aligning with one of the Divines, what Azura might have to say about it seems like a prudent consideration. Buffy will learn the names of some of the Peony Princess’ sister ships and I hope you will enjoy them also. I’m glad you like how we are using the MG’s arcane flame. I confess it was partly inspired by the FG’s amulets that you introduced in Teresa Fiction. Thank you!
DE- I felt obliged to address how the traitorous Worm we left to eternal torment in the Second Era in ESO could somehow survive to later battle Vanus Galerion (in support of Order of the Lamp lore) and even infest himself upon the Third Era (in support of the MG questline in Oblvion). I find it great fun to try and weave the wide range of racial characteristics found in Tamriel into matter-of fact-normal considerations that might not occur to those of us without pointed ears, tails, fur or tusks. Thank you!
*
Previously- Buffy boarded the Peony Princess to begin her journey from The Imperial City down the Niben to Leyawiin. After meeting her Argonian cabin mate and settling in, she made her way up to the ship’s main deck to enjoy some fresh air and sunshine.
* * *
Episode 10
“What lady so fair, whose golden hair shames the very sun, graces my port rail?”
I turned to look up at a handsome Redguard. A loose fitting white shirt was gathered at his waist by a scarlet sash and its wide sleeves danced in the wind. Well-fitted black trousers were tucked into knee high suede boots of the same color. His roguishly smiling lips parted to say, “Torlin, first mate of this fine vessel.”
“Buffy,” I managed to reply without stammering.
“Buffy,” he repeated. “What a beautifully exotic name! In all my travels, I’ve never met anyone who shares it.”
“Nor have I,” I said, feeling rather flustered by his blatant charm and attention, “so I suppose it is rather rare,”
He lifted my hand briefly to his lips. “Welcome aboard.”
“Thank you,” I replied. As he leaned against the rail and unabashedly watched me, I looked around, trying not to display my self-consciousness. Behind us now was the wide bridge spanning the Upper Niben at its juncture with Lake Rumare. Ahead, I could see another vessel closing quickly. It sailed by almost silently, save for the cracking of sails in the wind and what sounded like commands being barked to its deck crew. “Beautiful,” I said. “What ship is that?”
“Barenziah’s Breeze,” replied Torlin amiably. “One of our sister ships, and bound for The Imperial City. While not as fair as yourself, she’s a beauty all right.”
I imagined my peasant blouse did little to hide the flush I felt rising above its off-the-shoulder neckline, but I didn’t draw attention to it by looking down to see. “When I picked up my ticket at the Imperial Trading Company, the clerk told me we’d arrive at Leyawiin early tomorrow. How many stops do we make?”
“Just one at Bravil before sailing overnight to Leyawiin. About four more days from there on to Anvil, including numerous stops.”
“At what cities?” I asked.
“Well, after Leyawiin, we sail to Duncori Walk and Senchal in Elsweyr. Then on to the land of the Bosmer.” Brilliant white teeth flashed briefly before he continued, “Our Valenwood ports are Haven, Southpoint, Greenheart and Woodhearth. Next is one of the Summerset Isles for a stop at Skywatch before finally arriving Anvil. After a few days port call for the crew, we bring aboard a new load of passengers, mail and cargo then retrace our route back to The Imperial City.”
“I’d love to visit those cities. Someday.”
He smiled. “Tis a shame that Leyawiin will break my heart by stealing you away on the morrow before I can show you those ports.”
I smiled demurely and, as I lowered my eyes, could see now that my shoulders did indeed display the blush I felt. “How fortunate your crew is to have a first mate so gifted by the silken tongue of a bard.”
“You wound me, lovely lady.” I looked up to see sparkling eyes that belied both a crestfallen face and dark hand placed dramatically over his heart to stem imaginary bleeding.
“Oh, I’d wager the numerous ports you visit provide plenty of lovely ladies to tend your wounds. I find this talk of ships fascinating though. How many such vessels does the Imperial Trading Company operate and where else do they go?”
“Let’s see, there’s our own Princess of course. And you saw the Breeze just heading north.” He began counting off on his fingers. “The ITC also operates Nymph of the Niben, Mara’s Tear, Black Swan and Dragon’s Tongue. Six. They all run the same route when not undergoing maintenance in our home port of The Imperial City. The Rihad Trading Company overlaps us at Anvil and serves the northern provinces.”
“Thank you, Torlin. I had no idea how all this worked.”
“You’re most welcome,” he replied. “We’ll dock at Bravil within the hour. Our loadmaster will oversee the on and offloading. My duties in port are actually quite light. The town is quite an unsavory den of thieves, beggars and black marketeers. ‘Tis hardly a place for a cultured unaccompanied lady. I’d be honored to escort you ashore, share a dinner and get to know you better. Have you had the misfortune of visiting Bravil before?”
“I grew up in the beautiful forest city that is cleansed by the Niben and nurtured by the Great Chapel of Mara. After losing both parents, the city and its people became the family who raised me.” I smiled sweetly.
The Redguard was speechless for a long moment. When he spoke, the roguishly bardic manner was gone. “Forgive my poorly chosen words, Buffy. I feel as if I’ve eaten half my boot.”
“Apology accepted, Torlin. I admit that it takes time spent in Mara’s city to fully appreciate her subtle charm and that your perceptions are shared by many visitors.” I paused to give the man a reassuring smile. “I greatly appreciate you teaching me so much about ship travel within the Empire, however I must decline your kind offer. The length of our port call here is too short for me to say all the hellos and goodbyes that going ashore would require. And I’ve already promised my cabin mate that I’d quietly remain aboard with her for dinner in the galley.” I then poked a small finger into his ribs playfully. “Besides, you’d hardly want a Bravilian waif as your dinner date. I might steal your heart and sell it on the black market.”
My joke elicited the intended laugh and seemed to ease his lingering embarrassment. “Methinks ‘tis I who have learned from you, fair and wise lady. We’ll need to rig for the wind and make our turn toward Bravil soon. I hope to see you again before you leave us in Leyawiin.” He kissed my hand once more, then treated me to a charming grin and exaggerated bow as one hand almost swept the deck. He then turned and, before I knew it, was barking orders about sails, coming around, riggings and such to the crew.
I watched the resultant deck activity for a time and felt the ship turning. My gaze shifted out over the bow. The City of Mara soon began to grow out of the distant trees, backlit by the golden brilliance of a westering sun.
I sighed. Torlin was handsome, worldly and charming. Part of me was flattered by his attentions, even though I was sure that any young thing in a skirt would draw his eye as easily as I. He probably had women in each of the numerous ports he had mentioned. And good for him, I thought, for I certainly wasn’t ready to move beyond the memory of Savlian yet. I had tried twice and. . . it had not gone well.
In Valenwood an elf named Vandrelis from one of the mammoth-hunting plains tribes had courted me, eliciting hopeful stirrings in my heart. Though I balked after his first kiss, confessing my lingering grief over the loss of Savlian, he was both patient and attentive. I found myself beginning to hope he would kiss me again.
As the chief’s son, Vandrelis was next in line to lead his tribe and explained how important it was to him that any mate be able to provide an heir to succeed him. For a Bosmer to conceive, her totem must be defeated by that of her mate as the couple shares intimate pleasures. Vandrelis' totem was a tiger. His curiosity was piqued as I informed him I had two totems. When I told him that one was a butterfly, he was pleased. Dismay, however, was his reaction as I reluctantly advised him that my second totem was an ice dragon. We sadly agreed that I was not what he needed. There were plenty of wood elven maidens whose totems could be defeated by his powerful tiger, but I was not among them. The potential for love to blossom was over before it really began. Acadian had gently consoled me that knowing Vandrelis’ priorities so early in the courtship was better than learning them later.
I stared out over the bay as I recalled a subsequent attempt at romance after returning from Valenwood. Caccian Apinia was a member of the Bravil guard force and took quite the fancy to me. Unlike some under the command of Captain Viera Lerus, he rejected corruption and was both firm and fair in his duties. I was drawn to both his sense of honor and skill as a warrior. I had accepted an invitation from him for dinner at the Silverhome. Well, I ended up drinking too much and blubbering about Savlian. Between the wine and emptiness in my heart, I became clingy as he walked me home, even inviting him to come inside for the night. He gently declined.
Once fully sober the next day, I realized how chivalrous the man had been to not take advantage of an inebriated and vulnerable elf. I was so impressed that, when he asked, I readily agreed to try dinner together again – without the wine. This time, when he delivered me home, we chatted comfortably outside my door. Then he took me gently into his arms and our lips met. Instead of welcoming his kiss as I hoped I might, I stiffened as waves of guilt washed over me. I pulled away, crying and apologizing. I had selfishly implied to this kind man something I could not deliver. He was wise enough to understand, and our evening ended with a friendly but sad hug. The last thing he said that night still hung heavily in my heart: ‘You told me that Captain Matius’ final words to you included the hope that you live your long elven life. Until you truly embrace his wishes, no man can compete with the ghost of your hero.’
Had it not been for the steadfast strength, unconditional acceptance and vehement reassurances of my paladin that night, the next morning would have found me at the bottom of the Niben. Beneath the same waters that now lapped against the sides of the Peony Princess.