March 1,
What a great respite it was to be
on land again, even if it was only for a few days. I’m not sure Forlaith would
agree, after being lost on the island. I have never seen Ardythe so panicked.
He didn’t even act this way when his real son rode off into the night at the age
of eight, having just had an impressive fight with his father.
Either Ardythe thinks Forlaith’s
beauty will be the defining quality to help us gain the Mallawi’s aid, or he
has grown to genuinely care for her. I am honestly not sure which is driving
him.
When she was found safe and
sound, I saw a great relief cross Ardythe’s face. After Oswyn declared her well
enough, considering her ordeal, Ardythe grew extremely crotchety with the
child. In fact, I found her often trying her hardest to avoid his company,
because everything he said to her was waspish. It reminded me of the gruff way
he acted around Fendrel, his son, when Fendrel would go missing or get hurt—as
though the more brusque he was, the better he could hide his worry.
I hope, and pray to the gods,
that he has grown attached to this young woman. Maybe she will be the savior of
our nation, just not in the way any of us imagine. Maybe she will be our king’s
savior, and therefore ours.
What we need most is a king who
loves his people.
But I have wasted much of your
time with my musings. I’m sure you have been wondering why it has been so long
since I have written.
I’m sure you are aware, while on
land, I had no time to myself. Then, when we boarded the ship and set sail from
the islands, we endured many days of rough seas, some of the roughest we have
yet endured, in fact.
There has been nothing to eat but
the fruit we gathered on the island—thanks to Forlaith—and soggy jerked beef.
Cook has been unable to keep a fire lit, what with great waves coming over the
sides of the ship. The water has a pesky ability for finding any available path
down into the bowls of the ship. Crews have been kept active around the clock
bailing the water out. Thankfully, Haddock and Alek insist the storm is pushing
us in the right directions, and at a much greater pace than mere sails could
manage.
Of course, I think I’d prefer a
slower and more comfortable journey than a fast, bumpy one. I’m pretty sure
anyone on board who has received a bump or bruise from being thrown against the
walls would agree—which is everyone, by the way.
Poor Jocosa even suffered from a
blow to the head as she tried to journey to the necessary. After this, all the
women tried to hold their bladders as long as possible.
Sadly, during this three-day
storm, we lost a man over board. There are a few members of the crew who are
greatly affected by his death, but for the most part, the crew did not know him
well. Nonetheless, the crew is despondent. The death of one of their numbers
always will have a profound effect on their morale.
But in this weather, there is
little we can do to boost their morale.
To be honest, I think the best
thing for all of us is to get to Mallawi. Maybe the rough ride will be worth it
in the end. Maybe.
Marcys
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