experience and skills. Aylis sat apart and jotted notes in a journal as she peered intently at every one of the applicants, and each of them felt as if she were seeing to the depths of his very soul.
In the latter days of the interviews, the fourth event occurred: a ferry from Merchants Crossing arrived, and with it came Brekk and eight Dwarves, enough to bring the Eroean ’s Chakka warband up to the full strength of forty. And one of these Red Hill Dwarves the Warrows seemed to know-’twas the Chak named Brekka, apparently an acquaintance of old.
Finally, in concert with Long Tom, and relying heavily on Aylis, Aravan chose the men to fill out the remainder of the crew.
The dreadful events in the City of Jade had taken their toll, yet once again the Elvenship was up to her full complement of sailors, forty men in all.
Aravan settled the bill with Burly Jack, and a hefty sum it was, and he left a generous bonus for each member of the staff of the infamous inn-cooks, maids, and bottle washers all, including the Red Slipper ladies.
Then the crew entire-warriors and sailors and scouts-spent the next few days aboard ship.
Upon arrival at the Eroean , Long Tom assembled all hands on deck, and with Aylis looking on and Aravan leading, the sailors and warband took an oath to reveal no secrets of the Elvenship: the old hands renewing their pledge; the new hands vowing for the first time. Then all pledged a second time to never divulge to anyone the fact that they would sail with a Pysk, for she was one of the Hidden Ones, and preferred to keep it that way. Finally, the Dwarves and Men took an oath to reveal nought of this voyage whatsoever to anyone not of the crew. And when the pledging was done, Aravan looked to Aylis, and she nodded in satisfaction.
Under the tutelage of Nikolai and Brekk, the new crew members spent days familiarizing themselves with the ship and their duties, while the old hands spent time setting things to shipshape, some removing the scars the hull had taken in combat with the Rovers of Kistan, and laying on new paint where needed.
And as they readied the craft, Aylis spent time recording in her journal the tales they had told one another in the nights before the hearth. And the Chakka warband stripped and cleaned and regreased and reassembled the ballistas, or laded fireballs and round stones and huge arrows aboard, or sharpened axes or polished war hammers or oiled crossbows and such. And sailors swabbed or painted or coiled lines, or practiced reefing and goosewinging as well as running out the studding sails, and other such duties of seamanship.
As they worked at familiarizing themselves with the Elvenship, one of the new crewmen asked Aravan, “Beggin’ pardon, Captain, but what be the name Eroean mean?”
“ ’Tis an Elven word, Jules, and difficult to translate into Common, yet as close as I can come, it means Dancer on the Wind .”
“Ar, then Wind Dancer be her name, eh?”
Aravan smiled and said, “Not quite, but close.”
Within a sevenday all was ready, and Aravan had rowers in dinghies hale the Eroean to a pier, and there he tied up; and with the docks and ship abustle and cargo nets on booms swinging up and across decks and below, they laded on kegs and crates and barrels and bales of food and water and other such goods for the long voyage ahead. When the last of the provisions was lashed down in the holds, Aravan granted the crew a final day of shore leave, for they would sail morrow’s eve, and it would be many a moon ere they saw these shores again.
To the Red Slipper the sailors and warriors went, while Aravan and Aylis and Urus and Riatha stayed aboard, along with Pipper and Binkton and Aylissa and Vex.
Even as the crew took their leave, a man rowed a dinghy to the ship. “Ahoy, the deck!” he called.
Aravan stepped to the rail.
It was Realmsman Tanner.
“I have a gift for two of your shipmates,” called the realmsman.
“And they would be. .?”
“Binkton and Pipper.”
Hearing their names, the Warrows stepped to the rail as well.
“Hand it up,” said Aravan, lowering a rope and board ladder, “and then welcome aboard.”
Tanner hefted up a large chest, one painted with flames. “It’s empty, I’m afraid.”
As Aravan leaned down and took hold of an end handle and hauled the chest adeck, “King Ryon,” blurted Pipper.
Binkton sighed in exasperation, and Pipper said, “What I mean, Bink, is that the High King must have cleaned out Rivers End, else we wouldn’t have our chest.”
“Ah,” said Binkton.
“The High King did at that,” said Tanner, climbing aboard. “Cleared out Rackburn and the mayor and most of the city watch. Kingsmen now run the government there.”
“What about that rat-eating Tark and his toady Queeker?”
“Sorry, but it seems they escaped,” said Tanner.
“What?” demanded Binkton. “What Ruck-loving idiot let them get away?”
“I think they were elsewhere when the High King led the raid,” said Tanner.
“I wouldn’t call the High King a Ruck-loving idiot if I were you, Bink,” whispered Pipper.
“Ah. Well.” Binkton took a deep breath and slowly let it out.
Tanner and Aravan laughed.
“Wull, they’re on wanted posters, right?” blustered Binkton.
“Indeed,” said Tanner, controlling his mirth.
Binkton turned to Pipper and said, “When we get back from this voyage, Pip, we’ll run them down ourselves, if they are still on the loose. After all, they tried to kill us.”
Pipper sighed and said, “Oh, Bink.”
“Wouldst thou have a brandy?” asked Aravan.
“Indeed,” said Tanner.
As they started for the Captain’s Lounge, Pipper turned to Binkton and said, “Come on, Bink, empty though it is, let’s get our chest below.”
Late the next afternoon the crew returned, a few carrying others over their shoulders. The ladies of the Red Slipper, some weeping, came down to the docks as well, for they would see the crew off. Long Tom and his family were there, Little Tom with his eyes agog at the magnificence of the ship. Long Tom gave Little Tom a hug and a kiss; then he scooped up his tiny wife, Larissa, in his arms and kissed her long and deeply. He set her afoot and turned and boarded the Eroean , last of all of the crew.
As the sun set and dusk drew down and the tide began to flow outward, “Get us under way, Tom,” said Aravan, when the big man reported in.
“Aye-aye, Cap’n,” replied Tom.
He turned to Noddy and Nikolai. “Cast off fore, cast off aft, hale in the gangplank, and rowers row.”
These two called out orders, and dock men waiting on the pier cast the hawsers from the pilings, while crewmen drew the large mooring lines up and in and coiled them on the deck, as others pulled up the footway and stowed it in its place below. Rowers in the dinghies haled the ship away from the quay and turned her bow toward the mouth of Arbalin Bay.
Even as the dinghies were lifted up to the davits, Noddy piped the crew to raise the staysails, and on these alone did the craft get under way; and in the deepening twilight, folk on the piers called out farewells and blew heartfelt kisses, some on the Eroean returning the sentiments in kind.
As the Elvenship cleared the mouth of the harbor and rode out on the ocean prime, “Where to, Captain?” asked Fat Jim, steersman again, his arm no longer in a sling. “What be our heading? Where be we bound?”
Aravan looked out across the broad Avagon Sea, the cool night air filling the silks above. Then he stepped up behind Aylis at the aft starboard rail and pulled her close and she leaned back into him. With men standing adeck and looking up at the captain embracing his lady, he reached ’round and cupped her right hand in his and pointed her finger and raised her arm and aimed at a bright gleam in the western sky. “Set our course on the evening star yon, all sails full, for we go to the rim of the world and beyond.”
The bosun then looked at Long Tom, and at the big man’s nod he piped the orders, and sailors scrambled to the ratlines and up to the yardarms, where they unfurled silks, the great sails spilling down in wide cascades of cerulean, while others of the crew stood ready at the halyards and sheets; and as this was done, Noddy strode
