Ways of Power 1: Power Rises (20 page)

              Lylith and Rancoth returned with their meals, and Garbrah seemed to again become increasingly uncomfortable. Rancoth noticed that as long as their conversation didn't steer directly towards her she appeared to be at least partially at ease. The four of them ate pleasantly together. The plump little pink crustaceans floating in the stew were a new treat Rancoth had never had before, and he found that he enjoyed their somewhat fibrous texture.

              As they finished their meal, Lylith made an announcement that their first stop was due in a couple of hours and that everyone needed to make sure things were ready. The crew began to file out of the galley to return to their duties. Garbrah was one of the first to jump up and leave, stating she needed to get some things in order before going ashore at their next stop. Dorbin hopped up behind her and offered his assistance. The little Dwalish woman, whom Rancoth saw for the first time was several inches shorter than Dorbin, blushed but didn't refuse his company.

              Lylith departed shortly after that and Rancoth was left to his own thoughts in the now empty galley. His mind wandered to the conversation the four of them had prior to getting their lunch and he made himself a mental note to ask Dorbin why the Dwalish woman had acted so strangely. He then drained his cup and returned it to the kitchen where he found something that he could actually be of help with.

              After helping Momma with the dishes and cleaning up the galley, Rancoth returned to his room with the thought of resuming his reading. En route however, he was waylaid by the captain who was carrying a well used bo-staff. The slender wood had two rounded ends, was dented and highly polished from extensive use. She had a wide grin on her face, as she gracefully spun the staff around her torso and caught it in a T across her shoulders, resting both hands on either end of the staff.

              "Care for an afternoon workout?" she asked cocking one eyebrow.

              Rancoth grinned and nodded; he had been anxious to try his staff out ever since Dorbin had given it to him. "I thought we had to get ready for our first stop?"

"The crew's ready and we still have an hour. What's wrong? Scared?"

Rancoth winked at her. "I'll be right back." He ran below deck to retrieve his staff.

              By the time he had returned the main-deck had a wide space cleared, and the crew stood around in a big circle preparing to watch the match. Elija stood at the fan wheel again, a pride-filled smile directed at his mother. Even the wind dancer had stopped his chant to observe the contest between his captain and their passenger.

              The crew cheered for their captain as the two of them circled one another. The sound was distracting, and made it difficult for Rancoth to focus. His staff felt comfortable in his hands, and much to his surprise, its perfect balance made it easy for him to spin it in mock form as the captain displayed her flourishing ability. He didn't have her practiced skill yet, so he was sure that his movements looked forced, but the weapon itself sang through the air.

              Rancoth moved first, spinning his staff high in a blow meant to connect with her shoulders. He knew that she was better than he was, so he expected to feel the impact of her block. What he didn't know was that unlike fighters who use weapons like an axe or hammer, stick fighters tended to favor finesse over brute force.

              As he swung above, Lylith ducked and spun, catching her staff behind his knees. In the same fluid motion she stood up again, carrying her staff through the impact and toward the sky. The blow swept Rancoth off his feet. As he began to fall back towards the hard wooden deck, Lylith planted the end of her staff in his stomach.

              The added impact forced more than just the wind from his insides. Small chunks of pink shrimp came flying from his mouth, mixed with the acrid vestiges of his stomach. The foul tasting bile made his throat tingle behind his jaw, and it was almost enough to make him forget the pain and embarrassment he felt.

              The deck erupted in cheers as the proud crew began to chant their captain's name.

              "Lylith, Lylith, Lylith, Lylith!"  Men started stomping their feet and clapping their hands. Some whistled or hooted as Rancoth rolled over to the side and the rest of his lunch spilled across the deck.

              Lylith leaned on her staff. "The basics huh?"

              Rancoth only nodded, too sick with pain to answer. This was going to be a long trip.

              "Looks to me like you need a better teacher!" she exclaimed. The crew roared with laughter.

              "You offering?" Rancoth managed to croak out.

              Lylith shook her head and laughed slightly. "Looks like I'm going to have to if I want to get some decent exercise."

              Rancoth coughed. Yes, a very long trip.

35

They spent the next several days working their way downriver, stopping at almost every port they came to. Rancoth was amazed at how many different cities were positioned along the winding waterway. Several of them he had read about or seen on the many maps that he so often poured over, but most were smaller villages still growing and as of yet had not made it into any books or maps.

It was these smaller villages that Rancoth enjoyed stopping at the most because they were all so varied, and since they were smaller he could explore them more fully. While the
Dancing Seahorse
was being unloaded of supplies and trade goods, he would wander the streets and shops. Sometimes he went alone, and on occasion Dorbin would accompany him, but most often he found himself meandering through the streets with Elija.

While he was a few years younger than Rancoth, the two of them had become fast friends (so long as the topic never turned to Elija's mother). It also turned out they had a lot to teach each other.

Since Elija grew up on the river, he had very little time for a formal education. Consequently, he was full of questions about philosophy, history, and the differences between the races. These were all subjects Rancoth had years of tutelage in, and he was happy to trade such knowledge for Elija's more rugged information.

Elija taught Rancoth how to read the water as the riverboat made its way south; how the shadows and ripples gave clues to the unseen obstacles just below the surface; or how the current moved faster near the shore and on the surface of the water then it would along the river bottom.

After the first week, Rancoth had been allowed to steer the boat, and was even assigned a shift or two once he had proved his abilities worthy enough. In the midst of all this, Rancoth also spent every afternoon after lunch sparring with the beautiful captain. This turned out to be much more enjoyable than Rancoth had first anticipated.

After her original demonstration, she became much more patient and worked hard to teach Rancoth everything she could about stick fighting. By the end of the third week, he even managed to fend off a surprise attack by her just before dinner.

Rancoth had been in his room reading again, and had almost reached the end of the Elfkin anthology when he heard the familiar ringing of Mamma's bell. He sighed and put the book back in its drawer with only a few pages left. He grabbed his staff, which he had gotten in the habit of carrying, for he never knew when Lylith might come at him with a surprise attack.

This far south the heat had become sweltering, not the barren dry heat of the desert, but a wet heavy heat. The air was thick with moisture; it was like trying to breathe a thin soup rather than air. Rancoth only hoped now that they were coming to the end of their river voyage soon the humidity might subside a little. He knew however that this was a false hope. The heat and humidity would only rise as they continued south, approaching the centerline of Earth, and the Elfkin's jungle-covered continent.

Rancoth thought that perhaps he had more of an understanding and a better appreciation for the nudity of the Elfkin, since much like the rest of the crew he was stripped down to the barest of clothing. He kept his robe belted around his waist, and allowed the upper half of it to fall around his thighs. He then used some cord to tie up the bottom of his robe leaving his legs to breathe from the knees down.

The long days in the sun darkened his skin. He was now closer in shade to his father; his hair on the other hand was becoming bleached, its lighter coloring more akin to his mother's silvery locks. The contrast was heightened by Rancoth's ever glowing bright green eyes.

One of the things that Lylith had taught him was to be less dependent on his eyes, to allow the information fed to him by his other senses to be of equal use as he assessed his environment. Had it not been for these teachings, he would have never heard the subtle whisper of her staff cutting through the air over his head as he emerged from the mid-deck.

Rancoth quickly ducked and dove from the last few steps onto the main-deck. He tucked his head and rolled his shoulder at the last minute to avoid a hard impact, allowing his momentum to carry him through the summersault and then back to his feet. He held his staff in front of him with a two handed defensive posture. His legs were wide spread, and he bent low at the knees so that he was not only on firm footing, but could react quickly to whatever came at him.

"You're getting better!" Lylith exclaimed with a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. Using her staff as a point of leverage, she vaulted over the opening that led down to the mid-deck. In mid-flight she twisted her torso around and brought her staff up high over her head in a wide arc.

The force of the impact against Rancoth's own weapon made him drop to one knee as she came crashing down on him. He pushed her off of him and quickly regained his footing as she stepped to the side so that she wouldn't be precariously perched above the stairs.

"I wondered if you were planning something when we didn't spar after lunch yesterday," Rancoth said with a wry grin.

A flash of light caught his attention, followed shortly by a loud crack and rumble. Both combatants looked to the east at a looming thunderhead racing towards them. The ominous black cloud reminded Rancoth of Pordly, and sent a brief shiver down his spine.

"Perhaps now isn't the best time to practice either?"

"Scared of getting wet?" the captain asked with a raise of her eyebrow. "Besides, I haven't won, unless you end up sprawled on the deck."

Rancoth turned and smiled, allowing the expression to shine through his eyes, which he had learned had an effect on her. "Then I guess you’ll just have to settle for a draw on this one."

"A
draw
! I'd hardly call you fending off one blow and then conjuring up this distraction worthy of a draw."

"Ah, ah ah," he said waving her off. "I believe I avoided one blow, and deflected another."

"Oh yeah, big difference!"

"Besides, I'm not the one on this boat who could bring in a storm. Look at your wind dancers, not me."

Lylith rolled her eyes, but conceded to their first draw as the wind began to whip her hair around with the storm’s approach. The clean damp smell and the quick drop in temperature was a refreshing respite to the muggy heat they had been enduring. Several members of the crew found their way to the main-deck, and after safely making anchor near the shore, they all frolicked through the cooling cascade of water.

Thick heavy drops fell, to break on their bare skin. Even the captain shed most of her clothing to bask in the relief of the storm. Her crew of course had seen her body before--there were few secrets in such a close-knit group on such a small boat. Rancoth however couldn't help but stare at the woman's lithe figure. She had small perky breasts for a woman in her mid-thirties, and her stomach was hard and flat. It was a pity she was so hardnosed about everything, he thought.

The blow caught him off-guard, and his head whipped around, sending droplets of water flying from his hair. The metallic taste of blood was salty upon his tongue. His last several weeks of training however had caused some reflexes to develop. Before ever even bringing his head back around, Rancoth pulled his staff through with the blow he had been dealt to strike at his attacker.

The return blow he dealt was only a glancing one, but it was enough to cause Elija pause. "I thought you were my friend!" His shout was given extra emphasis as another roll of thunder rumbled across the land.

"I am your friend," Rancoth said, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. "Why would you think otherwise?"

"I was watching from the fan wheel. I saw the way you looked at her, the way you smiled after you stopped your fight. I saw how you were shamelessly watching her cooling herself in the rain!" His eyes were hot with his furry as tears began to well up.

Rancoth glanced at Lylith again, who had stopped with the rest of the crew to observe the interaction. A mother’s pride was clearly visible in the set of her jaw as she looked upon her son defending her honor.

"Don't look at her!"

"I'm sorry," Rancoth quickly said, turning his gaze back to the boy. "I would never step between a mother and her son. I didn't mean anything by it Elija, I just--I just…"

"Not good enough," the young man said, slowly shaking his head. "Off the boat."

"Now wait just one damn minute!" Dorbin growled as he approached the scene from the galley. He and Garbrah had already started eating. "Grrecrrum, commissioned this jourrney, and last I checked it was yourr motherr who was in charrge herre, not you."

All eyes turned to the captain who stood with hands on hips, bare breasts heaving. "I stand with the son who so gallantly stands up for me."

Rancoth knew she had never been entirely comfortable with her own attraction towards him, but as the captain she should have felt obligated to hold up the bargain she had struck with the Arch Mage. Perhaps it was her own discomfort with the attraction that had caused her to humiliate him so much on that first day.

"Besides," she said looking to the whole crew, "the southern harbor at Orlian is only a few more miles. We’ve ferried our guests as far as they really needed. It won't hurt their dandy feet to walk the rest of the way."

Rancoth was stunned, some of the crew laughed, and others simply nodded their heads.

Dorbin shook his head and barked, "Let's get ourr stuff Rran!" The stout little man then stomped down the stairs to their quarters.

Rancoth looked at several members of the crew who he had grown fond of before following in Dorbin's wake. The two men packed their things in silence and then made their way to the ramp that had already been extended to the shore. Each of them carried far more then was comfortable as they teetered back and forth on the rocking wooden plank.

They finally squished down onto the rain-drenched ground, the mud sucking at their boots as the ramp was pulled back on board by Titch, the captain’s kineticist.

"WAIT!" The scream came from Garbrah who had her own travel pack slung across her shoulders. "Lower the ramp, I must go with them."

"Have you gone mad?" demanded Lylith as she eyed her engineer. "You work for me."

"I'm sorry, Captain, but I must. You wouldn't understand," the little woman pleaded.

"Try me," Lylith said crossing her arms.

"No lass," Dorbin spoke up, as he watched the exchange. "You have no obligation to follow me. I gave up that life a long time ago. Stay with yourr captain."

"But…" Tears welled up in the little woman’s eyes, but whether it was gratitude or sorrow Rancoth could not say.

"No!" Dorbin shouted. "And rrememberr yourr prromise. You tell no one." He glared to drive home his words.

The diminutive woman hung her head before turning from the side of the boat and disappearing. Lylith nodded at Dorbin and said, "Thank you. I'm not sure what I would have done without her."

Dorbin grunted and started the long march south with Rancoth quick at his heels. The boat pulled up anchor and slipped past them as it continued its journey toward Orlian. It quickly disappeared behind a bend.