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20th Day in the 4th of Ründ’s Months, Dry Season, in the First Year of King Feyaz’s Reign, 126th Reckoned Year
Marry, aye yay, and marry, aye now
Took me a wife and made me a vow
Merry, I get, and Mary I found
Now love me my life when you are around
Marry, aye mend, and marry, aye can
Better my being by my being your man
Merry, I get, and Mary I know
Guild me in smiles and wreath me in bows
Marry, aye might, and marry, aye when
Longing my heart for my life to spend
Merry, I get, and Mary, I will
Labor be love but be my heart not still
Marry, aye live, and marry, aye see
If there were a many, with Mary I’d be
Merry, I get, and Mary, my heart
Miss you my Mary, when we are apart
From ‘Miss You My Mary’, Shanty Composed by Benafield of Broadfell in the 105th Reckoned Year
Chapel and Mavis are speaking on the quarterdeck when Petsune finds them. Mavis is in the middle of speaking. “It’s definitely made us lighter in the water, but now we’ve nothing to sell if we get in a pinch.”
Chapel looks thoughtful. “Well, we can cross that bridge when we get to it. Oh, and I wanted to ask you something: you did some carpentry work before you joined me, right?”
“Aye, but that was a lifetime ago. I hardly remember anything. Why?”
“Ah, no reason… Nothing I can’t do myself.”
The Captain turns and suddenly sees Petsune. “Oh, hello, Pet. I didn’t see you standing there. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to say, the decking is awfully slick there by the starboard railing. I saw Shushilah fall earlier, and I nearly did myself.”
Mavis strokes his thick beard. “Hmm. That’s no good.”
Chapel snaps a finger and seems to formulate an idea. “Why don’t you go dig up The General and work on cleaning it? Wipe it down good and make sure it isn’t slippery. My guess is someone accidentally spilled some red whale oil when we offloaded the cargo at Misty Shoals.”
Petsune is a bit flustered at having been set a big task alongside Tarlatan. “Oh, um, yes sir.” He can’t help but feel a strange tension whenever he’s with The General, and he isn’t sure what it is. It feels as though Tarlatan is pretending to be fine so that Petsune won’t feel bad, or maybe so he won’t bring it up. Pet spies him speaking with Bor by the foredeck and says a quick prayer to the Saints that they would give him wisdom. He approaches Tarlatan warily. “Hello, General Tar. The Captain has given you and me a job, to scrub the decking over there. It’s rather slippery for some reason.”
“Aha, yes of course. Can do, can do. Say, Bor, might we trouble you for a bucket and a rag or two. Thank you.”
Once the General has the bucket, the two of them walk over to the portside railing. They set to scrubbing and Petsune is immediately reminded of some undeserved punishments he was doled out during his time with the Sanctum. He was once set to scrub the entire sanctuary after arguing with one of the church elders over a theological matter.
As the two of them work, they quickly begin to realize that a wet rag has little effect on an oil spill. The General grumbles. “This isn’t doing a drowning thing… and who christened the deck here anyway?”
This reminds Petsune of an old trick Father Haltur used to clean the anointing oil off of the Window to the Deep. He would use rock wart to soak up the oil and then snag weed to polish the wood. Petsune excuses himself for a moment and walks back over to Bor. “Excuse me, Bor.”
“Hm.”
“Uh, do you have any rock wart, or snag weed?”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Um, no. It’s good for oil spills, so I thought—”
“Listen, Pet, I like you. But, I’m very busy. You want rock wart? It covers the outside of any waterbound ship’s hull. You want snag weed, check the oars and rudders. They call it snag weed for a reason.”
Pet is left blinking while Bor moves on to begin cooking the midday meal.
Petsune walks back over to The General, who is still on his hands and knees, scrubbing. Petsune leans over the railing to look down at the hull of the ship. Sure enough, there are rock warts growing all over it, down close to the water. As the sea splashes up onto the wart, it opens its hard rock-like exterior to expose the soft mossy inside which soaks up water. Petsune slips then and lands on the bottoms of Tarlatan’s boots. The General is startled. “Whoa there, boy. You’re cleaning the deck, not my boots. Say, what were you doing there?”
“Sorry, General. I was looking for rock wart. I think it will help with the oil spill. And snag weed too.”
“Ah yes, the old rock wart. A wonderful little thing, isn’t it? For oil, you say? Never thought of that… brilliant, dear boy. Brilliant! You just climb on down there and fetch us some, hmm? Go on.”
Before he can even catch everything The General said, Petsune is being pushed down through the railing. Around the outside of the hull is a narrow platform for harpooners to stand on when whaling. Petsune carefully drops down to the platform and nearly slips. There is a patch of rock wart growing just below the platform he is on, so he lays on his stomach and reaches down to grab some.
Lying down, Petsune is looking into the sea and he realizes how clear it is away from a Mass. He can see far below the ship. Trailing along, occassionally eating at the growths on the hull, are several large stout-nosed gipps and a few of the smaller snub-nosed gipps. Looking far below the ship, about a tower deep, there is a school of fodderfin swimming. Petsune finds himself staring at the beauty of it all until The General yells down, “C’mon, Pet! That oil won’t clean itself!”
Petsune pries off a few barnacles of wart and then stands on the platform to give the moss to The General. “Well done, well done. Now for the snag weed. Check this root here above your head — yes that one —check the end of it. Down in the water. You’ll have to climb across. Just jump up and grab it, you’re young, then shimmy on down to the end, hmm?”
A bit warily, Petsune grabs hold of the root and clings to it with his arms and legs. Without looking down at the water, he begins to slide himself down the length of the root, to the ocean at its end. All of the roots are connected by a narrow buoyant wood. Pet makes it down to the narrow beam that connects the roots, and he can see some snag weed on the root next to his, but not the one he is on. Cursing the Sea for his luck, Petsune looks to the next root, about eight feet away, and thinks he can walk across the connecting beam if he is quick enough. He waits for a still moment in the Lady’s ceaseless rocking, then let’s go of his root. He takes a step and slips immediately down into the water with a splash. When Petsune surfaces, he can hear the General calling to him, “You alright there? Haven’t broken anything, I hope? Get the snag weed while you’re down. Hah!”
Sprig and the Big Man both appear at the railing next to The General and they begin laughing and calling over other crew members. Petsune meanwhile is uneasy in deep water and is scrambling to find purchase on the root to pull himself up. He does find some snag weed and drapes it around his neck before pulling himself up onto the support beam between the roots. He nearly slips off again which sends the crew into another fit of laughter. Petsune graces them with a choice hand gesture favored by the Sanctum. Suddenly, it seems the entire crew is there; Sprig, the Big Man, The General, Cheese, Mavis and Chapel are all at the railing now and most are laughing. The General calls out, “C’mon now! Climb up if you can!” Petsune mutters to himself as he hugs the root and shimmies up to where it reaches the railing. Exhausted, he flops over the railing onto the deck in a wet heap.
Chapel moves to stand over him and block the Saint’s sun. “Pet? You’re all wet.”
“I… ha… hadn’t noticed…” Petsune gasps.
“What were you doing down there? Sprig didn’t push you overboard, did he?”
Petsune is helped to his feet by Benafield and Cheese, both of whom are laughing still. Sprig comes over and attempts to help by removing the snag weed from Petsune’s neck and throwing it over the side. Petsune just watches it go and says through gasps, “I was… ha… getting… snag weed…”
Sprig just looks at him. “Snag weed? Oh, I’ve a bunch of that.”
Cheese looks at Sprig with a quizzical expression. “Sprig, why the depths d’ya have a stash of snag weed?”
“‘Cause it’s sticky. It’s good for tricks an’ pranks.” Sprig has an evil smile on his little face, and he runs off to get some snag weed for Petsune.
Chapel stares down at the sopping form of Petsune. “Why exactly do you need snag weed and rock wart, Pet?”
Petsune is still mostly out of breath. “Good… for… oil spills. Ha… wart first… then…. Snag…”
The General grabs the rock wart and begins rubbing it on a slick spot. The hard exterior opens and it begins absorbing the oil. Next, The General polishes the spot with the sticky snag weed and it shines like new, without being slick at all. Mavis touches the spot and says, “Well drown me for a milly… where’d you learn that, priest?”
“The anointing oil in the Church of the Deep… it would sometimes spill… on the… the thing…”
Chapel puts an arm around Petsune and smiles. “Well, you are a rather strange priest. If you really want to go overboard, just ask next time.”
The Captain winks and leaves, along with the rest of the crew.
Petsune kneels next to The General and begins using the rock wart and snag weed. Tarlatan says, “Don’t you want to dry out a bit, hmm?”
“I’m alright. Thank you. These are Deepblood robes: I think you'll find they dry rather quickly.”
The two of them return to scrubbing. Petsune begins to feel that unspoken tension between them. General Tarlatan doesn’t seem to be himself, instead being overly chatty. Petsune and the General scrub away with the patches of rock wart, then polish the spots with the snag weed. The General seems to try to fill the silence. “I’m a military man, myself. We used to have our own little tricks like this; blisker leaf to get out gun grease, fickle willow in the boots for comfort, wig moss for blood stains, bell beetle if you’re tired.”
“Oh?” Petsune says politely.
“Ah, say. Do you know why they call it wig moss? Hmm? Well, I’ll tell you. It’s a name coined by the navy. See, wig moss grows incredibly fast on wet surfaces, as you well know. And the boys in the navy would wet a man’s face and head when he slept and put the moss seed on him, then quick as a runnykit, he’d have a beard and full head of hair. Baha! Yes! It’s true. Happened to myself once. You know navy boys, always harassing their generals…”
Petsune is half listening and giving affirmative sounds when appropriate. But more than this, he is trying to think how best to broach the subject that The General seems to be so energetically avoiding.
Cheese sneaks up beside Pet and whispers to him. “Could out-talk a prattlebeak, he could.”
Before Petsune can even turn to reply, she vanishes, climbing up the rigging. The General is still going. “Do you know, Pet, I was in the North War? Yes, indeed. That was a time of guts and mettle, no room for millies then. No, sir. I was in charge of a hundred men on one ship, leading the charge against those Coldor dogs when the wind just vanished — gone. Not a spit of wind, I tell you, not even a lick. It was like those Coldor’s had power over the weather —“
“I’m actually Coldor…”
Petsune can’t help defending his people, and he kicks himself mentally for making things tense. The General goes quiet. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry, Pet… I feel I have truly fit my boot into my mouth.”
“It’s alright, I understand,” Petsune says, thinking quickly, “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said or done things I wish I could take back.”
Petsune sits on his heels and takes a moment to look at Tarlatan. “If you feel, because of this or anything else, that you have disappointed me or let me down in some way: I assure you, that isn’t the case.”
The General stops scrubbing for the briefest of moments but does not look up. “Thank you, Pet. I feel you have seen through me… You remind me of the Captain… He has a way with people, you know? Thinks the best of them…”
Petsune smiles and returns to scrubbing at the deck. They finish cleaning off the deck after all three suns have risen. Bor has been feverishly cooking up a storm the entire time, and he is just about ready to serve. The General looks to the newly cleaned deck and says approvingly to Petsune, “Not bad. Not bad at all.” Bor comes out of the steamy kitchen area, bringing sensational smells that make Petsune’s mouth water. The small meal bell is rung, and the crew start appearing. Cheese shows up next to Pet, nudging a plate into his hands. “Got ears still? General didn’t talk ‘em off?” Petsune simply smiles.
Petsune gets to the front of the line and Bor fills his plate with delicious steaming food. There’s a pile of small potatoes seasoned with something green, a sizable cut of beef with sautéed onions on top, and a slice of grapple delight with cubed padada on the side. Petsune has never eaten this good in his life and he finds himself savoring every bite. He finishes his plate and is perfectly satisfied rather than overstuffed. Petsune approaches Bor with a look of awe on his face and says, “Bor, that was incredible. Truly, this is the best I have ever eaten, even my time in the Sanctum pales in comparison.” Bor looks the slightest bit satisfied, the ghost of a smirk hiding under his gruff demeanor.
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