Lost Dreamer
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Hey, this is pretty good 
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Swept Away - A Narnian Swashbuckler
- Thread starter EveningStar
- Start date
I got a little confused there with the Orlando Incident. Are they on a Calormene ship? who's the captain? For a moment I thought Sir Joseph was the captain. He's not, is he?
I re-read it and I got it. They are passengers. I guess I assumed that Sir Joseph would be directing the whole thing, even getting his own ship and stuff.
Trust me, there's nothing a wife wants more for her anniversary (or Christmas for that matter) than to have her leg irons taken off. Freedom is the gift that keeps on giving.
Captain Holly
Member
I like the plot.
Chapter Five: FISH OUT OF WATER
When things go wrong, it often happens quickly. One moment Trundle and Joseph were smiling and talking about old times over lunch in the galley, the next a couple of brawny Calormene Markaans sat down, one on either side of them. The two strangers looked at one another across the hare and badger as if they weren’t there, talking loudly and obnoxiously about the charms of a certain dancing girl from Agorbah. (If I told you what they were saying, your parents wouldn’t let you read this story!)
One of them, leaning closer, knocked over Trundle’s cup. If he noticed, he didn’t show it.
“If you two gentlemen want to sit together,” the badger said bashfully, “we can move.”
“We were here first,” Joseph said resolutely. “Now Trundle, as we were saying…”
One of the Calormenes rudely shoved Trundle. “My friend here doesn’t like Talking Beasts. One of the little blighters slit his brother’s throat during the war.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” the badger said, openly trembling. “I’m sure he died bravely.”
“I don’t like Talking Beasts either. They smell funny.”
Trundle looked around. “Joseph…let’s go. I don’t stay where I’m not wanted…”
The hare started to rise from his seat, a paw reaching for his dagger. Before he rose to full height, a strong brown arm grabbed him about the throat, wrenching back to snap the hare’s neck with a sickening crack.
“Joseph!” the badger shrieked, lunging forward. He was arrested by strong hands from behind that lifted him struggling and swung him about, slamming him against the bulkhead. Trembling, gasping for air, and feeling his heart leap out of his chest, Trundle looked down at the strong arm that pinioned him there, and the blade of the dirk that touched his throat and idly drew a line that parted his fur and tickled his skin. He shook his head slightly and managed to weakly stammer, “Please…don’t kill me! Please let me go!” In that extreme moment, the incongruous thought popped into his head that he would die never having seen the Lone Islands. That, and whether it would hurt very much. “I want to live!!”
“Trundle! Wake up, Trundle!”
The badger’s eyes flickered open and standing over him was Joseph’s worried face. “You’re alive…you’re alive!”
“I believe you,” the hare said with a hint of a smile. “This dream of yours, was it awful?”
“The worst in my whole life.”
Joseph nodded slightly. “Now you’ve been properly initiated. Your common sense has caught up with you. It’s not just a holiday now.”
“Sir Joseph, I…I don’t know if I have what it takes. I don’t want to say this, but its better you know now than later.”
The hare put a paw on his shoulder. “I already know you have what it takes. And once you’ve seen the elephant and lived to tell about it, you’ll know it too.”
“We’re going to see an elephant?”
“It’s soldier talk. It means going into battle.”
“Will we be doing it right away?”
“Hopefully we won’t be doing it at all.” The hare looked him in the eye. “Stripey dog, the only thing that frightens me more than fetching them out of Calormen is leaving them there. It’s alright to be afraid as long as you do your duty. It happens to all of us.”
“Even you?”
“Especially me.”
Trundle thought of Joseph’s wife languishing in slavery in a far off land. “I’ll try not to disappoint you,” the badger said, feeling his throat with a paw where the phantom blade had touched him. “I’ll have a lot of adventures and plenty of stories to tell the grandchildren. But you know what the best bit will be?”
“Making cabinets again?”
“Yes.”
“And I look forward to tending my prize-winning roses with Fiona by my side. She’s all the adventure I need to be happy.”
Trundle noticed that Sir Joseph had kind eyes. He smiled a bit as their warmth began to dispel the awful shadows of his nightmare. “I’d like to see those roses someday. That is, if you don’t mind.”
“I would mind if you didn’t come.” The hare lightly patted Trundle’s cheek ruff with a paw. “Now try and get some sleep.”
[CONTINUED]
When things go wrong, it often happens quickly. One moment Trundle and Joseph were smiling and talking about old times over lunch in the galley, the next a couple of brawny Calormene Markaans sat down, one on either side of them. The two strangers looked at one another across the hare and badger as if they weren’t there, talking loudly and obnoxiously about the charms of a certain dancing girl from Agorbah. (If I told you what they were saying, your parents wouldn’t let you read this story!)
One of them, leaning closer, knocked over Trundle’s cup. If he noticed, he didn’t show it.
“If you two gentlemen want to sit together,” the badger said bashfully, “we can move.”
“We were here first,” Joseph said resolutely. “Now Trundle, as we were saying…”
One of the Calormenes rudely shoved Trundle. “My friend here doesn’t like Talking Beasts. One of the little blighters slit his brother’s throat during the war.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” the badger said, openly trembling. “I’m sure he died bravely.”
“I don’t like Talking Beasts either. They smell funny.”
Trundle looked around. “Joseph…let’s go. I don’t stay where I’m not wanted…”
The hare started to rise from his seat, a paw reaching for his dagger. Before he rose to full height, a strong brown arm grabbed him about the throat, wrenching back to snap the hare’s neck with a sickening crack.
“Joseph!” the badger shrieked, lunging forward. He was arrested by strong hands from behind that lifted him struggling and swung him about, slamming him against the bulkhead. Trembling, gasping for air, and feeling his heart leap out of his chest, Trundle looked down at the strong arm that pinioned him there, and the blade of the dirk that touched his throat and idly drew a line that parted his fur and tickled his skin. He shook his head slightly and managed to weakly stammer, “Please…don’t kill me! Please let me go!” In that extreme moment, the incongruous thought popped into his head that he would die never having seen the Lone Islands. That, and whether it would hurt very much. “I want to live!!”
***
“Trundle! Wake up, Trundle!”
The badger’s eyes flickered open and standing over him was Joseph’s worried face. “You’re alive…you’re alive!”
“I believe you,” the hare said with a hint of a smile. “This dream of yours, was it awful?”
“The worst in my whole life.”
Joseph nodded slightly. “Now you’ve been properly initiated. Your common sense has caught up with you. It’s not just a holiday now.”
“Sir Joseph, I…I don’t know if I have what it takes. I don’t want to say this, but its better you know now than later.”
The hare put a paw on his shoulder. “I already know you have what it takes. And once you’ve seen the elephant and lived to tell about it, you’ll know it too.”
“We’re going to see an elephant?”
“It’s soldier talk. It means going into battle.”
“Will we be doing it right away?”
“Hopefully we won’t be doing it at all.” The hare looked him in the eye. “Stripey dog, the only thing that frightens me more than fetching them out of Calormen is leaving them there. It’s alright to be afraid as long as you do your duty. It happens to all of us.”
“Even you?”
“Especially me.”
Trundle thought of Joseph’s wife languishing in slavery in a far off land. “I’ll try not to disappoint you,” the badger said, feeling his throat with a paw where the phantom blade had touched him. “I’ll have a lot of adventures and plenty of stories to tell the grandchildren. But you know what the best bit will be?”
“Making cabinets again?”
“Yes.”
“And I look forward to tending my prize-winning roses with Fiona by my side. She’s all the adventure I need to be happy.”
Trundle noticed that Sir Joseph had kind eyes. He smiled a bit as their warmth began to dispel the awful shadows of his nightmare. “I’d like to see those roses someday. That is, if you don’t mind.”
“I would mind if you didn’t come.” The hare lightly patted Trundle’s cheek ruff with a paw. “Now try and get some sleep.”
[CONTINUED]
Last edited:
Chapter Six: TALL TALES
“Hassam" was working crew, not a guest, something the Captain made very clear when the boy was caught talking with the paying passengers. To be Orlando and dream of freedom in a free land, he had to come out on deck during the night watch when he should be sleeping. Joseph and Trundle would meet him at the taffrail.
There among the waves, beneath the jeweled sky, in a drowsy pool of lamp light that danced to the cadence of the swells, he had a perfect place to tell stories of Kings and commoners, joyous fairs and grievous wars. His words were sweet wine to Trundle’s ears and valuable insight for Sir Joseph. What follows is a brief report of their meeting:
Travel to Calormen under the Tisroc’s banner (may he live forever) was reasonably safe. The Peacock Kingdom would benefit from running a comfortable tourist haven and reliable trade lines. So long as one went to approved locations, a holiday in Tashbaan could be just the cure for insatiable wanderlust.
However the Tisroc, as his father before him (who did not live forever), had lost a series of disastrous wars. These conflicts were portrayed to the Calormene people as limited engagements that ended in honorable peace.
Visitors from abroad might speak a harsher truth; of the disaster at Kesban Valley or the rout at Araksham where the Black Diamond Brigade of Narnia could walk across the river on the bodies of slain Markaans. To go to such places where the shifting sands still revealed skulls and spear points was to flirt with death.
For years Orlando felt abandoned by Aslan, but the noble kindness of Joseph and Trundle had restored his faith. He found he could speak of the local religion without a pall of superstitious dread hanging over him, and he smiled at the foolish stories.
According to legend, Tash and Hagamesh were brothers, the firstborn of all things, having sprung fully grown from the sand where their father the Earth and mother the Sea met. These old gods became lazy and Tash and Hagamesh took their throne, casting a spell over the land and sea to keep them in a deep sleep until the end of time. When the Earth stirred in his dreams he caused earthquakes and when the Sea had nightmares she caused great waves.
For a while the brothers ruled creation well, but their differences caused strife.
Where Tash was comely and creative, Hagamesh was ugly and destructive. The Trickster once stole fire from the sun to give to mankind which made men dangerous. For this reason he was cast out of the skies and he hides in the shadows away from the angry sun. When someone has been cheated or bad fortune strikes, his name is used as a mild curse.
Among men, three enterprising brothers learned the secret of flight from Hagamesh when he was in a drunken rage. They used that knowledge to steal gold from the sun and silver from the moon and used their wealth to found Tashbaan.
Tashbaan was built on the place where a great whale had washed up on the beach. They carved the whale up for oil and meat and found in its stomach a magic talisman that had been stolen from the Mother Sea. It was that talisman that enabled the Calormenes to become powerful merchants and control the currents and tides.
To travel freely among the people meant mastering certain social graces. Of the hundred or so Orlando described, certain ones stood out from the rest:
Thanks were given before eating rather than after. One bite was always left behind to avoid the appearance of greed.
A visit to someone’s home came with a guarantee of safety for the night. When the sun was fully above the horizon the next morning, all bets were off.
If you sat on someone’s hat they were justified if they killed you, for that was a grave insult.
When haggling over merchandise, it was alright to disparage the goods but not to call the merchant a cheat or a fool even if he was one.
Never swat flies or mosquitoes on a Wednesday, though one may shoo them.
If you accused someone of a crime and they were not found guilty, you must pay double their fine and serve twice their sentence.
Belching at the table was acceptable, but hiccupping was not. The victim had to leave immediately and not come back until he had regained his composure and prayed to The Daibeh (the household god) for cleansing.
One must never mention the name of a person who has died whilst seated at the dinner table, though it was alright to drink a toast to their memory whilst standing.
“Hassam" was working crew, not a guest, something the Captain made very clear when the boy was caught talking with the paying passengers. To be Orlando and dream of freedom in a free land, he had to come out on deck during the night watch when he should be sleeping. Joseph and Trundle would meet him at the taffrail.
There among the waves, beneath the jeweled sky, in a drowsy pool of lamp light that danced to the cadence of the swells, he had a perfect place to tell stories of Kings and commoners, joyous fairs and grievous wars. His words were sweet wine to Trundle’s ears and valuable insight for Sir Joseph. What follows is a brief report of their meeting:
***
Travel to Calormen under the Tisroc’s banner (may he live forever) was reasonably safe. The Peacock Kingdom would benefit from running a comfortable tourist haven and reliable trade lines. So long as one went to approved locations, a holiday in Tashbaan could be just the cure for insatiable wanderlust.
However the Tisroc, as his father before him (who did not live forever), had lost a series of disastrous wars. These conflicts were portrayed to the Calormene people as limited engagements that ended in honorable peace.
Visitors from abroad might speak a harsher truth; of the disaster at Kesban Valley or the rout at Araksham where the Black Diamond Brigade of Narnia could walk across the river on the bodies of slain Markaans. To go to such places where the shifting sands still revealed skulls and spear points was to flirt with death.
***
For years Orlando felt abandoned by Aslan, but the noble kindness of Joseph and Trundle had restored his faith. He found he could speak of the local religion without a pall of superstitious dread hanging over him, and he smiled at the foolish stories.
According to legend, Tash and Hagamesh were brothers, the firstborn of all things, having sprung fully grown from the sand where their father the Earth and mother the Sea met. These old gods became lazy and Tash and Hagamesh took their throne, casting a spell over the land and sea to keep them in a deep sleep until the end of time. When the Earth stirred in his dreams he caused earthquakes and when the Sea had nightmares she caused great waves.
For a while the brothers ruled creation well, but their differences caused strife.
Where Tash was comely and creative, Hagamesh was ugly and destructive. The Trickster once stole fire from the sun to give to mankind which made men dangerous. For this reason he was cast out of the skies and he hides in the shadows away from the angry sun. When someone has been cheated or bad fortune strikes, his name is used as a mild curse.
Among men, three enterprising brothers learned the secret of flight from Hagamesh when he was in a drunken rage. They used that knowledge to steal gold from the sun and silver from the moon and used their wealth to found Tashbaan.
Tashbaan was built on the place where a great whale had washed up on the beach. They carved the whale up for oil and meat and found in its stomach a magic talisman that had been stolen from the Mother Sea. It was that talisman that enabled the Calormenes to become powerful merchants and control the currents and tides.
***
To travel freely among the people meant mastering certain social graces. Of the hundred or so Orlando described, certain ones stood out from the rest:
Thanks were given before eating rather than after. One bite was always left behind to avoid the appearance of greed.
A visit to someone’s home came with a guarantee of safety for the night. When the sun was fully above the horizon the next morning, all bets were off.
If you sat on someone’s hat they were justified if they killed you, for that was a grave insult.
When haggling over merchandise, it was alright to disparage the goods but not to call the merchant a cheat or a fool even if he was one.
Never swat flies or mosquitoes on a Wednesday, though one may shoo them.
If you accused someone of a crime and they were not found guilty, you must pay double their fine and serve twice their sentence.
Belching at the table was acceptable, but hiccupping was not. The victim had to leave immediately and not come back until he had regained his composure and prayed to The Daibeh (the household god) for cleansing.
One must never mention the name of a person who has died whilst seated at the dinner table, though it was alright to drink a toast to their memory whilst standing.
***
[CONTINUED]
After hearing all that, Trundle scratched his head. “I’m all muddled,” he told Orlando. “How does anyone remember all that?”
“It’s simple, Mr. Trundle. You can learn a lot in a little to the tap of a well-oiled whip.”
Orlando felt very pleased with himself for his contribution to the cause. For the first time in a very long while he got on his knees and recited the prayer of thanksgiving in a clear, confident voice rather than meekly begging whatever may be out there to help him.
After the boy crept away to go back to his sleeping quarters, Trundle sighed happily and looked up at the stars. “Seeing that did me a world of good.”
“Yes,” the hare said with a sigh more of resignation. “I really envy him.”
“Envy?” The badger looked about puzzled.
Joseph settled back and looked up at the stars. “Yes. I was once like him.” He looked the badger in the eyes. “If this works out, I may be like him again.”
Trundle subtly shifted his position and leaned against the hare. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
“Not much to tell. Fiona and I were headed back from the Lone Islands, so I prayed for good weather and I didn’t get it. So I prayed the ship could stay the storm and I didn’t get it. I prayed the wounded boatswain would make it back to his wife and children and he didn’t.”
“Bad things happen sometimes,” the badger said.
“I know. Then one day if you hold out from despair and pray hard enough they get better.”
“Indeed they do.”
“But they didn’t. I prayed and prayed that Fiona would make it home with me alright, and she didn’t. So I prayed Aslan would move the King’s heart to give me an armed escort or at least demand an investigation from the Calormene consulate. He did neither.”
Trundle put his arm about Joseph’s shoulder and gave him a little pat. “I can imagine how you felt.”
“Can you, Son of Earth? Can you really?” The hare sighed again. “I would try to say my nightly prayers and I felt…nothing. My words were tiny wisps of winds torn and tumbled in the gales of cruel fortune…”
The badger gave him a little squeeze. “There is someone out there, Joseph. And even though you don’t always feel his presence, he feels yours.”
“Well put, and by the hardest I have come to accept that at last. But for a long time I struggled with it, wondering how the Emperor Across the Sea could be all powerful and all good yet let these awful things happen.
“Then one day I was sitting on the city wall looking at the stars. It was much like this…quiet and still and beautiful. I tried one last time to pray. I asked for a sign, however small, that Aslan had not utterly abandoned me.
“All night long I sat there. And then when I had just about decided to go home and go on with what was left of my life, the sun came up.
“If you’ve never seen the sun rise over the sea, knowing that it comes from the East where Aslan holds his court, you need to. I looked at the beauty of it and without understanding why, tears began to run down my cheeks. Then I could hear his voice. Not words, but a message that rang in my heart like a song of love. If I were faithful, hard working and patient, I would find Fiona. As I wept, Aslan wept with me.
“The very next day I went out and talked with Mage Aramis. He told me that I should trust Aslan fully, the way a squirrel jumps from one tree to another knowing that a branch will be there. And that is why I wrote the notes in the bottles.”
“And that’s why I’m here.”
“Yes. My faithful friend.”
“And so everything worked out in the end.”
“Worked out? I wouldn’t go quite that far.” The hare tensed up and his ears twitched. “I still have my troubles dealing with it all. Just look what happened to Orlando, the poor boy! Where was Aslan when that innocent child had barbaric customs beaten into his head to the tune of a whip?”
“He was in you while you were sitting on the wall at Cair Paravel. Just as he was in you when you promised Orlando his freedom. Sometimes Aslan appears in the strangest places.”
Joseph looked over into Trundle’s honest face and smiled. “Just as he is in you now.” The smile faded as quickly as it came. He drew his dagger and held it up to let the torch light sparkle on its finely honed edge. “Witness this blood oath, Stripey Dog. Orlando’s suffering is over, I guarantee it!” With a sudden lunge the hare stuck the tip of the blade into the deck. His paw trembled in its grip on the dudgeon. “The next mother’s son that hurts that boy will die!”
[CONTINUED TOMORROW]
“It’s simple, Mr. Trundle. You can learn a lot in a little to the tap of a well-oiled whip.”
***
Orlando felt very pleased with himself for his contribution to the cause. For the first time in a very long while he got on his knees and recited the prayer of thanksgiving in a clear, confident voice rather than meekly begging whatever may be out there to help him.
After the boy crept away to go back to his sleeping quarters, Trundle sighed happily and looked up at the stars. “Seeing that did me a world of good.”
“Yes,” the hare said with a sigh more of resignation. “I really envy him.”
“Envy?” The badger looked about puzzled.
Joseph settled back and looked up at the stars. “Yes. I was once like him.” He looked the badger in the eyes. “If this works out, I may be like him again.”
Trundle subtly shifted his position and leaned against the hare. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
“Not much to tell. Fiona and I were headed back from the Lone Islands, so I prayed for good weather and I didn’t get it. So I prayed the ship could stay the storm and I didn’t get it. I prayed the wounded boatswain would make it back to his wife and children and he didn’t.”
“Bad things happen sometimes,” the badger said.
“I know. Then one day if you hold out from despair and pray hard enough they get better.”
“Indeed they do.”
“But they didn’t. I prayed and prayed that Fiona would make it home with me alright, and she didn’t. So I prayed Aslan would move the King’s heart to give me an armed escort or at least demand an investigation from the Calormene consulate. He did neither.”
Trundle put his arm about Joseph’s shoulder and gave him a little pat. “I can imagine how you felt.”
“Can you, Son of Earth? Can you really?” The hare sighed again. “I would try to say my nightly prayers and I felt…nothing. My words were tiny wisps of winds torn and tumbled in the gales of cruel fortune…”
The badger gave him a little squeeze. “There is someone out there, Joseph. And even though you don’t always feel his presence, he feels yours.”
“Well put, and by the hardest I have come to accept that at last. But for a long time I struggled with it, wondering how the Emperor Across the Sea could be all powerful and all good yet let these awful things happen.
“Then one day I was sitting on the city wall looking at the stars. It was much like this…quiet and still and beautiful. I tried one last time to pray. I asked for a sign, however small, that Aslan had not utterly abandoned me.
“All night long I sat there. And then when I had just about decided to go home and go on with what was left of my life, the sun came up.
“If you’ve never seen the sun rise over the sea, knowing that it comes from the East where Aslan holds his court, you need to. I looked at the beauty of it and without understanding why, tears began to run down my cheeks. Then I could hear his voice. Not words, but a message that rang in my heart like a song of love. If I were faithful, hard working and patient, I would find Fiona. As I wept, Aslan wept with me.
“The very next day I went out and talked with Mage Aramis. He told me that I should trust Aslan fully, the way a squirrel jumps from one tree to another knowing that a branch will be there. And that is why I wrote the notes in the bottles.”
“And that’s why I’m here.”
“Yes. My faithful friend.”
“And so everything worked out in the end.”
“Worked out? I wouldn’t go quite that far.” The hare tensed up and his ears twitched. “I still have my troubles dealing with it all. Just look what happened to Orlando, the poor boy! Where was Aslan when that innocent child had barbaric customs beaten into his head to the tune of a whip?”
“He was in you while you were sitting on the wall at Cair Paravel. Just as he was in you when you promised Orlando his freedom. Sometimes Aslan appears in the strangest places.”
Joseph looked over into Trundle’s honest face and smiled. “Just as he is in you now.” The smile faded as quickly as it came. He drew his dagger and held it up to let the torch light sparkle on its finely honed edge. “Witness this blood oath, Stripey Dog. Orlando’s suffering is over, I guarantee it!” With a sudden lunge the hare stuck the tip of the blade into the deck. His paw trembled in its grip on the dudgeon. “The next mother’s son that hurts that boy will die!”
[CONTINUED TOMORROW]
Because I posted Chapters 5 and 6 on the same day, here is the Chapter 5 themed siggy. By the way, if you haven't tried it, developing a signature graphic for every chapter an a whole novelette SHO AIN'T EASY!
Lil Princess
Member
Wow, this amazing. Not that all your others that I've read haven't been. But this is just wow! I could spend hours reading this.
So how many chapters is it? Because you would have to make a lot of graphics.
Right you are. And they all already exist!
I can't show them in advance because they are all chapter specific and have spoiler text on them. Which reminds me, time to post the next one!
I can't show them in advance because they are all chapter specific and have spoiler text on them. Which reminds me, time to post the next one!
Chapter Seven: OVER A BARREL
For a knight like Sir Joseph, a pledge was a sacred obligation. He had promised Orlando his freedom, then pledged a blood oath that no hand would ever come against him, but keeping those promises would be hard. Perhaps so hard that it would bring his quest to an untimely end.
Though he had the gold to buy the boy’s freedom, it was abhorrent for him to reward the theft of a human child with a cash ransom. Orlando was stolen, and he must be stolen back. Still Sir Joseph had spent a week looking for another plan and found nothing. With one day left in the voyage, the hare paced about below decks looking for a better way.
He fell back on a method that was once his first line of attack but had in recent years become an avenue of last resort. He leaned against a bulkhead, closed his eyes and quietly murmured, “Great Lord of the Universe whose rod sways the sun, moon and stars, show me the way to help Orlando.”
It was not long after that when the knight spotted something both ordinary and wonderful, ugly and beautiful…an empty wine barrel.
“Lord, forgive me for ever doubting you.”
All that night Trundle worked by the light of a single candle, using ink he’d made from lampblack and grease and a brush made from a lock of his tail…a small personal sacrifice. The badger used a cheese grater as a file to remove identifying marks and very neatly painted “Propertey of Sir Josef” in their place. (You will remember he could read but not that well).
Orlando looked at the barrel dubiously. It would require every bit of his self discipline and a burning desire for escape to let his friends seal him in there.
Trundle said, “Just remember, we’re leaving the tap out. Breathe through the hole, but do so quietly.”
The boy trembled. “I’m afraid of closed in places. Sir Joseph, do I have to do it now?”
“Yes, son. Tomorrow morning is too late.”
Orlando’s face was pale. In a weak voice, he said, “Whatever you say, sir.”
The hare came forward and held the boy in a crushing hug. “You won’t be alone. My courage and prayers go with you.”
Shortly after sunrise thefirst mate came below decks and rudely shouted “All ashore that’s going ashore!” From the hammocks those who had gotten a good night’s sleep reluctantly stirred and climbed out of their hammocks. Trundle and Joseph had no sleep at all, but they were too frightened to be tired.
In the midst of the confusion, they quietly put a cork into the bung hole of their wine barrel and tapped it in firmly with a mallet. Then they started to roll it out, a slow and painful process since they were two decks down.
“I thought they made these things out of wood,” Joseph grumbled.
“They do,” Trundle replied through gritted teeth. “Ironwood.” (He’d knew all the carpenters’ jokes).
They paused a moment, looking up the ramp to the deck above and sighed.
A couple of brawny Calormene crewmen saw their distress and offered to carry it out for a few crescents.
“Most obliging of you fellows,” Trundle said. “Careful please! We have some fragile things in there.”
Sometimes at the height of our joy, when we feel clever and smug and untouchable, disaster strikes.
Joseph and Trundle were headed down the gangplank with the barrel behind them when suddenly the Captain appeared on deck. “Where is Hassam??”
Joseph’s ears twitched and Trundle gasped. Still, they managed to stifle the panic before it could escape in a yell.
It would have been safest to duck and run, but a promise was a promise, especially when made to a trusting child.
“A reward to the man that finds him! Three hundred darims!”
The sailors scrambled about searching high and low, and the porters rudely cast the barrel aside to search for the boy. At this, Orlando, who felt panicky anyhow, shrieked and kicked out the lid of the barrel. That was…to put it mildly…ill advised.
“Captain! There he is!”
Sir Joseph shoved the man off the dock. Grabbing the boy’s hand, he hurried after Trundle and was soon lost in the anonymous crowd.
The Captain sent a few runners into the crowd to try and find them, but he knew he was beaten. “I curse you in the name of Tash!” he thundered. “Filthy Narnian trash, may Hagamesh use your backbone for a ladder!”
As soon as they were safely away, Sir Joseph embraced Orlando. “You are free, child. You will never hear the name Hassam again as long as you live.”
“Free!” the boy said exultantly. “It really happened! I mean, I know you promised it would, but now it’s really happened! I’m Orlando to everyone!”
“I can find a nice Telmarine family and give them passage money so you can back to Narnia safely. Then you go to the castle at Cair Paravel and ask to see Mage Aramis…”
“Oh no, sir. Begging your pardon, but I’d rather stay with you.”
“Son, we’re going into the heart of darkness. Hot days, cold nights, dry winds, roving bandits, low rations and long marches.”
“I know, but I can go there of my own free will. I’m not a slave anymore. I choose. I’m coming with you.”
The hare put his paw on Orlando’s cheek and gave it a pat. “You put me to shame. I was seeing the boy you were and missing the man you’re becoming.”
Trundle watched in rapt silence. The escape had frightened him out of his wits, but now he felt an odd kind of exhilaration. He had cheated death and come away with the prize! He nudged the hare. “Have I seen the elephant yet?”
“A bit of it,” Joseph said, obviously pleased with himself. “Now let’s be off.”
[CONTINUED TOMORROW]
For a knight like Sir Joseph, a pledge was a sacred obligation. He had promised Orlando his freedom, then pledged a blood oath that no hand would ever come against him, but keeping those promises would be hard. Perhaps so hard that it would bring his quest to an untimely end.
Though he had the gold to buy the boy’s freedom, it was abhorrent for him to reward the theft of a human child with a cash ransom. Orlando was stolen, and he must be stolen back. Still Sir Joseph had spent a week looking for another plan and found nothing. With one day left in the voyage, the hare paced about below decks looking for a better way.
He fell back on a method that was once his first line of attack but had in recent years become an avenue of last resort. He leaned against a bulkhead, closed his eyes and quietly murmured, “Great Lord of the Universe whose rod sways the sun, moon and stars, show me the way to help Orlando.”
It was not long after that when the knight spotted something both ordinary and wonderful, ugly and beautiful…an empty wine barrel.
“Lord, forgive me for ever doubting you.”
***
All that night Trundle worked by the light of a single candle, using ink he’d made from lampblack and grease and a brush made from a lock of his tail…a small personal sacrifice. The badger used a cheese grater as a file to remove identifying marks and very neatly painted “Propertey of Sir Josef” in their place. (You will remember he could read but not that well).
Orlando looked at the barrel dubiously. It would require every bit of his self discipline and a burning desire for escape to let his friends seal him in there.
Trundle said, “Just remember, we’re leaving the tap out. Breathe through the hole, but do so quietly.”
The boy trembled. “I’m afraid of closed in places. Sir Joseph, do I have to do it now?”
“Yes, son. Tomorrow morning is too late.”
Orlando’s face was pale. In a weak voice, he said, “Whatever you say, sir.”
The hare came forward and held the boy in a crushing hug. “You won’t be alone. My courage and prayers go with you.”
***
Shortly after sunrise thefirst mate came below decks and rudely shouted “All ashore that’s going ashore!” From the hammocks those who had gotten a good night’s sleep reluctantly stirred and climbed out of their hammocks. Trundle and Joseph had no sleep at all, but they were too frightened to be tired.
In the midst of the confusion, they quietly put a cork into the bung hole of their wine barrel and tapped it in firmly with a mallet. Then they started to roll it out, a slow and painful process since they were two decks down.
“I thought they made these things out of wood,” Joseph grumbled.
“They do,” Trundle replied through gritted teeth. “Ironwood.” (He’d knew all the carpenters’ jokes).
They paused a moment, looking up the ramp to the deck above and sighed.
A couple of brawny Calormene crewmen saw their distress and offered to carry it out for a few crescents.
“Most obliging of you fellows,” Trundle said. “Careful please! We have some fragile things in there.”
***
Sometimes at the height of our joy, when we feel clever and smug and untouchable, disaster strikes.
Joseph and Trundle were headed down the gangplank with the barrel behind them when suddenly the Captain appeared on deck. “Where is Hassam??”
Joseph’s ears twitched and Trundle gasped. Still, they managed to stifle the panic before it could escape in a yell.
It would have been safest to duck and run, but a promise was a promise, especially when made to a trusting child.
“A reward to the man that finds him! Three hundred darims!”
The sailors scrambled about searching high and low, and the porters rudely cast the barrel aside to search for the boy. At this, Orlando, who felt panicky anyhow, shrieked and kicked out the lid of the barrel. That was…to put it mildly…ill advised.
“Captain! There he is!”
Sir Joseph shoved the man off the dock. Grabbing the boy’s hand, he hurried after Trundle and was soon lost in the anonymous crowd.
The Captain sent a few runners into the crowd to try and find them, but he knew he was beaten. “I curse you in the name of Tash!” he thundered. “Filthy Narnian trash, may Hagamesh use your backbone for a ladder!”
***
As soon as they were safely away, Sir Joseph embraced Orlando. “You are free, child. You will never hear the name Hassam again as long as you live.”
“Free!” the boy said exultantly. “It really happened! I mean, I know you promised it would, but now it’s really happened! I’m Orlando to everyone!”
“I can find a nice Telmarine family and give them passage money so you can back to Narnia safely. Then you go to the castle at Cair Paravel and ask to see Mage Aramis…”
“Oh no, sir. Begging your pardon, but I’d rather stay with you.”
“Son, we’re going into the heart of darkness. Hot days, cold nights, dry winds, roving bandits, low rations and long marches.”
“I know, but I can go there of my own free will. I’m not a slave anymore. I choose. I’m coming with you.”
The hare put his paw on Orlando’s cheek and gave it a pat. “You put me to shame. I was seeing the boy you were and missing the man you’re becoming.”
Trundle watched in rapt silence. The escape had frightened him out of his wits, but now he felt an odd kind of exhilaration. He had cheated death and come away with the prize! He nudged the hare. “Have I seen the elephant yet?”
“A bit of it,” Joseph said, obviously pleased with himself. “Now let’s be off.”
[CONTINUED TOMORROW]
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Dramamine? What's that? They don't issue dramamine to Coast Guardsmen - it never does any good.
Oh, yes - I forgot - the Navy only gets underweigh when the weather is good!
They should have issued you a better place to store your signature graphic. I think it went overboard, matey.
hmm - thanks, I'll look that up. I've plenty of copies, I'll just mount it at a different site.
CF - that's right, you were a run silent, run deep type. Yes, that would have been trouble - a deep, round hull catching large swell would be a recipe for trouble. Plus you never got a chance to get sea legs, because your tours were beneath the waves!
Speaking of waves, back to the yarn...
I just want to say that the dream sequence in the previous chapter was good. For a moment I was thinking that this badger was a coward seeing that most badgers are always presented as fierce and/or brave in literature. You had me there for a moment.