Marcys: A Fool

March 15

I believe being cooped up on this ship is starting to become too much for some of our young people. As I warned Ardythe, Jocosa and Alek’s past have proven a setback. Today, Oswyn found them together in the women’s cabin, during one of the few short periods that Rownet had managed to lure Forlaith up to the deck for some fresh air.

That poor child has not been the same since the attack. Rownet is with her constantly, and praise the gods, Oswyn is keeping her distance. Perhaps Oswyn sees Forlaith as spoiled or damaged. Well, whatever her twisted reasoning, the result is a good thing. Rownet reports to Ardythe and myself twice a day, but the reports are never promising. The day of the attack she informed us that the sailor, now dead, had not managed to actually rape her—another praise—and she received only a few bruises. Still, her heart is not so stout.

But I digress.

Naturally, I was called to witness their secret rendezvous, though they hadn’t actually been doing anything. They were caught sitting on the edge of a bunk, holding hands, and talking. While this is not allowable, considering the role Jocosa must play at Mallawi, it was hardly worth the fuss Oswyn made.

I tried to calm her down and insisted I would handle the situation, but she would have none of it. She called up for Adrythe and expounded on her findings until the children might as well have had sex. Finally, I ran out of patience with her and dismissed her from the room.

She left in a huff, taking Jocosa with her, who being the princess would receive no more than a slap on the wrist.

But Aleksandru?

How was I to save my own nephew? No doubt, Ardythe would want him thrown overboard like the would-be rapist. I couldn’t let that happen. I owed Haddock too much to let his son die because of one stupid mistake.

“He must be dealt with,” announced Ardythe without any preamble.

“I agree,” I said, hoping to show that I was not against punishing him.

“Throw him overboard.”

“My lord, while I agree Aleksandru has acted foolishly, nothing actually happened between them. Besides, if it wasn’t for Alek something very bad would have happened to Forlaith.”

“Are you suggesting because he acted the hero he can get away with anything?”

“By no means, my lord. But perhaps we could show leniency, just this once, as a thank you. Put him on bread and water for five days as punishment. I’m sure Alek has learned his lesson, and will go nowhere near the princess again,” I added, giving my nephew the steely gaze I learned from my wife, may the gods rest her soul.

“You are his uncle. How can I trust you to be impartial?”

“You can’t. I admit I do not want to see my nephew die because he was the fool. But that doesn’t change the fact he has acted in our best interests in the past, and the fact we need him. He has actually been to Mallawi. The same reasons we brought him on board, despite Jocosa, still exist.”

Slowly, after much grinding of his teeth, Ardythe nodded. “Seven days of bread and water.”

I’m not sure who felt more relieved, Alek or myself. I turned on him, my own anger able to take its proper place now that his life was safe. He backed away from me until he bumped into the closed door of the small cabin.

“I have put my neck out for you for the last time. Screw up again and it will be up to you to save your own life. Do you understand me?”

He nodded, wisely staying silent.

“Go near her again and I’ll throw you overboard myself,” I added for good measure before dismissing him.

The real problem is Jocosa. I don’t think Ardythe realizes it is likely not Alek who is seeking her company, but the other way around. I will have to warn her of the dangerous game she is playing.

Let us hope she listens.

Marcys

Forlaith: The Attack

March 13

I have waited hours to write this down in the hopes that my hands would stop shaking. It hasn’t happened yet. I just hope this is legible. Though it might not be such a bad thing if it isn’t legible.

I thought getting lost on the island was the worst that could happen to me—until I reach the mainland, of course.

I was very wrong.

Today I was in the narrow corridor that connects the necessary to the few small cabins on the ship. The others were up on deck, enjoying our first calm afternoon in days. I went to fetch a warmer shawl for Oswyn, and down in that corridor I discovered I wasn’t alone.

I have no idea what that sailor was doing near our cabins. In general, the sailors are not permitted in our part of the ship. His very presence put me on edge, but I did my best not to show it. I nodded to him, as politely as I could, and ducked into our cabins. I was just beginning to rummage through Oswyn’s trunk when I heard the door creak open. I jerked up, hitting my head on the top bunk.

Before I could turn around and confront the sailor for entering our private cabin, he was on me, pushing me over the edge of the lower bunk.

I’m sorry, I cannot write more of this. I will just say that, praise the gods, I was saved before he could ruin me. Aleksandru, the first mate of the ship, heard my screaming from his cabin and came to my rescue.

I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the tumult that resulted. As much as I would have liked to keep the incident to ourselves, Alek insisted on calling Ardythe. This meant Ardythe, Marcys, Haddock, and all the women came rushing down to our tiny cabin, filling every space. I was curled up on the lower bunk, doing my best to not be seen.

Based on the pain in my cheek and arm, I knew I would have a new set of bruises from the attack. It seemed as though I couldn’t get a chance to heal from one incident before something else happened.

The large crowed clamored in, each one trying to speak over the other. I saw the sailor dragged out by Marcys and Haddock. I knew what would happen to him for assaulting me, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. May the gods forgive me, I did nothing to save his life. Even from within our noisy cabin, I could hear his mighty scream as he was thrown overboard.

Ardythe, Marcys, and Haddock returned instantly and the noise in the cabin increased as Ardythe began barking orders which no one seemed to be obeying. Finally, when I thought I would scream, I heard a high pitch voice carry over the others.

“SILENCE,” the voice shouted. I turned my head to see Rownet standing on one of the trunks and glowering down at everyone.

In the silence that followed, I heard someone crying and belatedly realized it was me.

“This is the last thing Forlaith needs right now. Everyone, and I mean everyone,” here she glared at Oswyn, “out. I will report to you, father, once I’ve ascertained how she is, but I cannot do that with an audience.”

I rolled back, away from their probing stares and let the tears roll down my cheeks and onto Oswyn’s blankets. From where I lay, I listened to them silently march out of the room. Two thuds indicated Rownet had hopped down off the trunk.

“Forlaith, dear. Can you roll over?”

I obeyed, and without thinking about it, I threw myself into her arms.

I have been gravely mistaken about Rownet. I may not understand her reaction to our new circumstances, but she is a truly kind heart. She let me cry myself out, not saying a word or demanding I talk about it. When I was beginning to run out of tears and grow sleepy, she lowered me onto the pillows on Oswyn’s bed.

“I’m sure you don’t want to talk about it, and that’s fine, but I need to know a few things.”

I nodded mutely.

“Did he succeed?”

I shook my head.

“Good. That’s good. Are you hurt anywhere? I see a bruise on your cheek.”

I pulled the sleeve of my dress up so that she could see the bruise on my arm where he had grabbed me.

“Anywhere else?”

I shook my head again.

“Okay. Sleep. Alek is standing guard in the hall. No one will come down here, except me, okay?”

I nodded one last time before drifting off to sleep.

True to her word, Rownet was the only one to enter our cabin until night fell and the women returned to sleep. Oswyn didn’t say a word about me being in her bed, and after a little shuffling, each person found a bed, leaving me where I was.

I cried myself back to sleep.

Forlaith

Forlaith: Lost

March 9

We have anchored in at a little island. I have not been this happy since before Ardythe entered my life. Sadly, it took many hours before the sailors deemed the beach safe enough for us lowly women to join them. They found fresh water, filled a few barrels for our immediate use, and started an enormous fire—to keep the beasts away, I was told by one old, grouchy sailor.

The island is much like our own home, but with a few differences. In an effort to avoid Oswyn, and to see some of these differences, I snuck away from the camp and made my way down the rocky beach. This was perhaps the biggest mistake of my young life.

I had made it maybe a mile down the beach when it ended quite suddenly, turning from stony flatness into an expanse of large boulders. Looking towards the center of the island I spotted the cliff side that had evidently fallen towards the beach. The enormous stones continued on into the sea, their peaks barely visible above the high tide.

I wasn’t anywhere near ready to return to camp, so I turned into the forest. It wasn’t dense and the going was easy.

I happily trudged on, stopping at a stream to drink the fresh, sweet water.

Shortly after the river the land began to rise up a gentle slope, making me a little more uncomfortable, but it was a discomfort that felt good. After so many weeks on a tiny ship it felt pleasant to work muscles until they burned.

At the top of this first rise the trees parted and I was able to see a short way into a narrow valley with a stream winding through it. It was the most beautiful place I had ever seen. Though I knew I should have turned back at that point, I descended the hill into the valley, where I found a strange fruit tree. I probably shouldn’t have tried it, considering that I had never seen it before, but I did. Perhaps I don’t fear death like I ought to, considering the life I am now to lead.

The fruit was yellowish-orange in color. I bit into it and gagged. The outside of the fruit looked a little like scales or wart-covered skin, in other words slightly bumpy. The skin was thick and tasted bitter and sour. I was going to toss the fruit aside, assuming it was inedible, but then I noticed a few over-ripe pieces that had fallen from the tree. Beyond the thick skin appeared a segmented flesh. With a little effort I managed to get past the tough skin.

I have never tasted anything like it. It was sweet and tart, all at the same time, and yet it quenched my thirst in a way the water had not. These would be a great addition to our diet on the ship. I considered carrying some back to the beach, but decided I could explore a little longer before returning. I would make sure to take the same route I had thus far, and therefore stop by the tree again.

I climbed up the opposite side of the valley to a narrow peak. I was just thinking of turning back, considering I had just torn my dress and knew I had a scolding from Oswyn waiting for me, when I slipped and tumbled back down into the valley.

Or, at least, I thought it was the valley I had just climbed out of. They both looked so similar. I got up slowly, relieved to find I had not broken any bones, though I knew I would be bruised and sore for a number of days.

I wandered for a very long time, occasionally eating a piece of fruit to keep my energy up. It quickly became clear I had not fallen into the same valley. Eventually I had to admit that I was totally lost.

Many hours later, when the sun had disappeared over the top of the trees and the air had grown chill with an evening breeze, I began to panic. A short time later I stumbled out onto another rocky beach, though I was certain it wasn’t the same as the one we had camped besides. I hesitated for a couple minutes before turning to the right, praying to the gods I was heading in the correct direction. Either way, I figured I could follow the beach until I found our camp. The island couldn’t be that large.

Then I remember the bolder field that had turned me into the forest in the first place.

I was just about to sit down and give up when I rounded a bend on the beach, and there it was—the bolder field.

But how was I supposed to get over it?

I stared at it for a while before I realized the sun was close to setting. If I waited any longer I would lose the light and my only hope of reaching camp before nightfall.

I hiked up my skirts, thankful Oswyn couldn’t see me, and scrambled up the first bolder. The rock was rough and scraped up my hands. On top of the bolder, I plotted a course and hopped to the next rock. In this fashion I made it to the other side with only one scary slip, which nearly sent me into the foaming ocean. I was just beginning to search for a way down when I heard them—the faint shouts of men calling my name.

“I’m here,” I yelled as loud as I could. Slowly, dots of light appeared at the bend in beach. I slipped down the stone, jarring my sore feet on the rocky beach.

It was a small sensation compared to the relief of knowing I was safe.

As I’m sure you expected, I received a harsh lecture from Oswyn for the state my dress, but when she saw the number of scrapes and bruises on my legs and arms, she quieted.

Of course, Ardythe was also angry, but in a quiet, deadly sort of way.

I will avoid him for a few days.