Once upon a Spring morn

17

Parting

“It will make a nice scar, my lord,” said Chirurgeon Burcet, standing behind the captain and tying off the bandage. “One that’ll mark you as a warrior for all to see.”

“I think instead it’ll mark me as a fool for having made a mistake in a duel,” replied the captain, a lock of his red hair spilling over the binding and down his forehead.

Roel smiled. “With that cloth band about your head, I think it makes you look more the freebooter than a king’s man, my lord. What think you, Celeste?”

“What?” Celeste looked up from the vellum on which she copied the map. “What did you ask?”

“Given the bandage, does the captain more resemble a king’s man or a freebooter?”

Celeste studied Chevell for a moment. “I believe it marks him as the duelist he is.”

“Merci, Princess,” said Chevell, bowing from the waist, though seated.

Celeste turned her attention back to the chart.

Burcet put away his needle and gut and said, “We’ll make certain to put a clean bandage on it each day. I think tomorrow a red one will do; it’ll give the men heart.”

“I believe ’twould be better to give the men a double ration of rum, for a splendid task they did this night.”

“Indeed, my lord,” said Florien.

They were gathered in the captain’s cabin, the rescued map on the table, Celeste and Lieutenant Florien at the board, Celeste making a copy under Florien’s direction, the lieutenant a seasoned navigator.

“Ah,” said Celeste, “here is the realm of the Changelings.”

“Oui,” agreed Florien, stabbing a finger down as Roel stepped to the table to see.

“And where are we?” asked Roel.

“Somewhere over here,” said Florien, pointing to a place out in midair beyond the table’s edge.

“Does it show a port?” asked Chevell.

“Oui, my lord,” replied Florien, “Port Cient.”

“Ah, bon! That means we can drop anchor there in three days or so.”

Celeste looked up from her drawing. “Merci, Captain.”

“We are not going to Mizon, my lord?”

“Non, Lieutenant, not directly. First we will lay over in Cient for the men to have shore leave for two or three days, and to set the princess and chevalier on the road to their destination, for Roel would rescue his sister and brothers and perhaps have another crack at the Changeling Lord.”

“Oui,” said Roel. “I would indeed like another try at that vile being.” Then Roel frowned and said, “I wonder why he was at the pirate stronghold.” Celeste shrugged and dipped her pen in ink and traced another line. But Chevell said, “Clearly, Caralos sent the corsairs to fetch the map for the Lord of the Changelings.”

Roel looked up. “Why would the Lord of the Changelings want this map?”

“Because, ever since King Avelar came into possession of it, we have had no maidens stolen from our domain, nor from any other part of Faery, as far as I know.

Avelar, you see, promised the Changeling Lord that should he ever take anyone, our armies of ruin would march into the Changeling realm and destroy all. In return for leaving our women be, Avelar promised him he would make no copies.”

“Ah,” said Celeste in revelation. “Then that is why this map is considered a treasure.”

“Oui,” replied Chevell. “And the map was kept in a magically warded vault to guard against the Changeling Lord and his magery. Yet that was no proof against pirates, for they entered the old-fashioned way: brute force. I imagine Caralos was well rewarded for doing so.”

“Then, the Changeling Lord was there to collect his prize,” said Roel. “ ’Tis good we came when we did; else we would not have the map to copy.”

“My lord,” said Florien, “does making a copy not go against the pledge of the king?”

Chevell held his hand out level and wobbled it as of a ship rolling starboard to larboard and back. “Methinks the Changeling Lord violated the king’s trust by trying to steal it; hence mayhap this be tit for tat.” Florien smiled and said, “Just so.”

“And speaking of rewards,” said Chevell, “Sieur Roel and the princess will need funds to continue their quest.”

“Oui,” said Roel, “yet we brought nothing with us but the clothes on our backs and a sword, shield, and a bow.”

“Pah! You brought your skill and knowledge, and aided in the return of the map. And it just so happens you helped us capture a corsair with treasure in its hold-now in ours-some of which is King Avelar’s, but much of which is not. As an officer of the realm, it is from that loot I will reward you. How much might you need?”

Roel glanced at Celeste, but she smiled without looking up and continued to draw.

Roel glanced at the map and said, “It seems a long journey, and we’ll need horses-two for riding and two packhorses-and tack, food, bedding, and other gear for living in the wild.” Roel frowned. “Hmm. . in a port city, it’s not likely they will have war-trained horses.” He paused in thought, but finally said, “I would think-”

“Florien,” said Chevell, “have we a hundred gold we can reward the chevalier and princess?” Roel’s mouth dropped open. “A hundred-?”

“Oui, my lord,” said Florien. “Easily.”

“But that is entirely too much, Captain,” said Roel. He glanced at Celeste, and again she smiled to herself but kept drawing.

“Non, my boy,” said Chevell. “One hundred is not nearly payment enough for the recovery of this map.

When you and the princess return from your quest, come to Port Mizon. I am certain King Avelar will want, not only to meet you two, but also to properly reward you as well.”

Roel took a deep breath and canted his head in acceptance. “As you will, My Lord Captain.” A silence fell among them, broken only by the creak of timber and rope from above and the shssh of the hull through water from below, and the scraping of Celeste’s pen on the vellum. But then Celeste frowned and asked,

“Hmm. . what do you think this might be?” Both Roel and Florien leaned closer in the lamplight to see. “EF, it looks like to me,” said Roel.

“I agree,” said Florien. “But what that might mean, I have no idea.”

“And here it is marked WdBr, ” said Celeste, “and over here Spx and El Fd, and Ct Dd.” Lieutenant Florien touched several more spots.

“There are similar markings all across the map.” Again, none had any explanation, and Chevell shrugged and said, “Mayhap it’s like Lieutenant Burcet’s notations on his medicks: initials to tell only him what a vial or a packet contains. In this case, though, it’s the mapmaker leaving arcane markings.” Burcet stepped to the map table and looked, but he was as puzzled as all the rest. “You’ll just have to find out as you go nigh,” he said at last.

“ ’Tis not only nigh we’ll be going,” said Celeste, “but we’ll be at these points exactly, for that’s where the crossings through the twilight bounds exist.”

“Then mark them well,” said Roel, “for I do not wish to fall into an ocean or a fiery pit or ought else.” He paused a moment and, grinning, added, “Well, mayhap on the stern of a ship would be acceptable.” Chevell roared in laughter.

They sailed all that day and the next, and at dusk of the following day, they hove into the harbor in Port Cient and moored in the sheltered bay.

But for a few key crewmen, the rest drew lots to see who would have first shore leave and who would have second and who third, for Chevell would not leave the map unwarded aboard the Eagle for three days.

As the first third of the crew prepared to go ashore, Celeste and Roel among them, “My lord,” said