Chương 120: Old Men and Their Stories

Interlude 14 The Isabella rocked as an explosion hammered the starboard hull of the ship. The First Mate was panicked. The pirate ship was too far away for cannon fire! How were they managing such precise hits? The hull was broken and charred too; not the remnants of a normal cannonball. The Captain roared for calm. He began issuing orders in a flurry of words. Break out the munitions. Release the sail. Douse the lights and present only the aft section. Carpenters to the hull damage, hands on the bilge.

Among the chaos of sailors running and manipulating the ship, the Captain caught sight of Miriam, standing still among the scurry, the black rifle of the Secret Police in hand.

"Miriam," he said, seeming to make a snap judgement.

"You're a clever one. Find out how they're hitting us." Miriam nodded and leaped over the railing, using the rifle's stock to help steady her as she hit the deck below. She looped the rifle's strap over her neck and grabbed a rope tied to the starboard gunwale. Rather than inspect the damage from the inside, she tied a seat into the rope and ringed it around her backside, then skittered down the outside of the ship, using her seat loop as a belay. The damage to the hull was certainly odd.

Ignoring the surprised faces of the carpenters staring at her from the inside, she inspected the impact site. What was most surprising was that the bulk of the damage seemed to be below the water line. The Captain was doing something to tilt the ship enough that it prevented the entire ship from being filled with water, but had he not done that there would be no way to see the hole. A cannonball would lose most of its momentum if it hit the water before striking the hull.

It would certainly not be moving fast enough to cause the damage she saw. Then she noticed movement in the water. If she had spent the last few weeks as a sailor again she might never have noticed it. Dolphins move so often alongside ships that the sailors on board barely even saw them anymore. She might have dismissed them too, but she noticed three dorsal fins not cresting the waves the way the others were. They were keeping pace with the ship, but were aimed at the starboard side like arrows.

"What do you see?" She heard call from above. Leaning over the gunwale was Namiah, a ship's rifle snapped to his shoulder.

"Decided to join in?" she called back.

"A gentleman might suffer the indignity of a lady saving his life twice, but none could stomach a third!" Namiah said, but he couldn't hide the nervousness in his voice. She pointed to the dolphins.

"There's something strange about those dolphins."

"The… dolphins?"

"I'm not completely certain, but I think it's possible there is some sort of incendiary device strapped to them. That's my only guess as to how the damage might have happened." He nodded.

"I've never heard of such a thing! But loathe as I am to harm such a majestic animal, I'll test your theory." He raised the rifle and shot three times at the lead dorsal fin. He missed twice. Miriam was about to pull herself up on deck to take her own shots when his third finally connected. The water exploded from the sea like a geyser and the blast of air knocked Miriam against the hull. The captain looked down from the wheel and commanded all the men to take aim at the creatures.

Soon, two more explosions rocked the ship from the starboard side and two from port. As Miriam pulled herself up to the deck she grimaced.

"Horrible," she said to Namiah, who helped to pull her up.

"So many animals put to nefarious purpose." This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"Ask the horse if it ever gets to decide what side of the war it's on," he answered grimly.

"Our troubles are not over, I'm afraid." The pirate ship had seen the explosions and changed tactics - namely putting on as much sail as they could hold and running fast towards the Isabella. ✧✧✧ Between training sessions Miriam needed time to rebuild her fórsa. She found herself walking in the Fetchwoods more and more often, chatting with the Eldest. It was clear the Fetch was unused to conversation like this, but it began to grow more comfortable as time went on.

"The woman has left the Fetchwoods perimeter," the Eldest said one day.

"We are relieved. We thought she might carry out her threat to burn the forest."

"She left?" Miriam asked, alarmed.

"Yes. We did not see her go - she was there one moment and gone the next."

"There's no chance she snuck through the woods somehow?" The Fetch wearing Miriam's dead face shrugged.

"Before you arrived we would have said what you have done was also impossible. So we must re-evaluate our expectations, it seems." Miriam frowned. Losing track of Onóra was concerning. Even Eoin didn't think she'd dare try to cross the Fetchwoods, but it was never easy predicting what a truly obsessed person might do. Still, there was nothing to do about it now. It was just as likely she was hiding, trying to make Miriam think she'd gone to lure her out. They just had to stick to the plan.

Miriam had found herself looking to the north once again in absent moments - not the pull she'd felt at its worst, but now that she knew what to look for, it was clear the draw of her tree had started. It seemed she would never have a moment to rest.

"What would happen to the Fetch if Onóra did burn the forest?" Miriam asked. The Eldest shrugged again.

"It has not happened before, but I imagine we would die. As you pointed out, we are living creatures. Fire will burn us if we stay too long near it. Still, we would not allow it to get that far if we could prevent it. We've put out wildfires from time to time." After another two weeks, training with Eoin and Ultán had shown slow, painful progress.

She was able to slowly run through her initial forms of the Unbroken Channel backed by the power of the River without passing out from the pain now - but that was a recent development. The strain had started with her arms, but as she progressed through the forms every part of her body felt abused. It felt like an enormous triumph just to make it through, even if it was slow as a sloth. Still, she could tell that she was getting stronger. And that was what mattered. Ultán had become a pleasant surprise.

He was a gruff but helpful instructor, and he had a way of explaining techniques simply that Eoin struggled to communicate with more intricate terms. Ultán would just grumble that Eoin was a "natural talent," and so had no idea how to teach anyone anything.

"Why are you helping me?" Miriam asked the first time she completed the First Form of the Unbroken Channel with River power behind her.

"Your goals and mine don't really seem to align."

"Don't they?" Ultán asked.

"Well. Before, my goal was to finish the job I'd taken and get paid. But I have no idea now where Cormac Fiadh is, and now that I'm not a Pathfinder anymore I really have no way to find him. Also… I'm kind of dead. So my priorities are a little different than fattening up my purse."

"I still want Sol back," Miriam said abruptly.

"He's my friend, no matter what his origins are." Ultán rolled his eyes.

"I know, I know. He's a really great guy. And you know what? I'm not just saying that. He fully intended to sacrifice himself by absorbing the Heart of Iron. I can't say I would have done the same. For a monster who devoured me I'd say he's turned out to be a worthy companion."

"But you still won't help him win Cianán's game?"

"Would you?" Ultán snapped.

"Eoin is your friend, isn't he? When the time comes for you two to face off, will you throw your swords to the ground and die just so that he doesn't have to? It's a rare creature in this world who would choose suicide over murder, and that's the truth."

"I suppose you have a point," Miriam said.

"I just wish it didn't have to be this way. You're not like Solas - he truly is a monster. You were chasing down and catching some thieves. Some people would say that you were the good guy there."" Some people?" Ultán said with a grin.

"Try all people. Cormac is a thief. I bring overpowered thieves to justice. Tell me - wherein is the evil that I did?" Miriam chuckled.

"Well, you have another point. I think the real answer is that it's just easier to think of you as evil. Makes it seem like the things we do to survive at your expense are somehow justified."

"Now that's an honest answer," Ultán said.

"I never expected to hear that from you." He leaned back a little on his stool, looking out the window.

"I miss the desert," he said sadly.

"Wait, that's right," Miriam said.

"Solas said you were a Selkie. How did you end up in the desert?" Ultán shot her a look.

"You really care?"

"I'm curious, at least."

"Well, pull up a stool and I'll bend your ear." Miriam sat down on one of Eoin's stools.

"I never met an old man who didn't like talking about himself." Ultán chuckled.

"You still haven't!"