Second Wind - Chapter Four

Confrontation

  It was a few minutes before Nuarte spotted the new face watching him
from the back of the salon. He curled his lips back from his teeth as he
studied Shekkelleh's companion, hoping his snarl would frighten the human.
To his dismay, Shekkelleh was already whispering in his friend's ear. To
make matters worse the boy was actually laughing. Nuarte pulled off his
tabard and beat his chest with both fists, silencing the room with his
hollow booming thuds. Leaping onto the table in front of him the hadozee
made his way toward the pair, his skin folds sweeping about him like some
makeshift cloak. Still wearing his snarl, Nuarte crouched in front of the
two.

  "Well ,well, well. Looks like we've picked up a little gravel beasty at
our
last stop. I thought we didn't let rats on board anymore,"

  The human continued to smile at Nuarte.

  "We decided to keep you on, didn't we Nuarte?" shouted someone behind
him. The sailors around him broke into a chorus of catcalls. Nuarte waited
for the noise to die down.

  "I'm talkin' to the dirtkicker here. Ya got a name beasty?"

  "He is Kevved, direct descent of Daul Stytheson, blood-brother of Kaba
Jalat," offered Shekkelleh.

  "Shut yer scavver hole, blowhard. I wasn't talkin' to you. Or maybe the
worm doesn't know how to speak for himself,"

  Nuarte leaned forward expectantly.

  "I can talk just fine, Nuarte," Kevved said.

  "So ya can. Me an' the boys over there were talkin', wonderin' what a
little greaseball like you was doin' out here so far from home. Tryin' ta be
a
man? Off ta make yer fortune off'n the backs of honest sailors?"

  "If I answer your question will you answer one of mine?"

  Kevved leaned forward, his nose only a few inches away from Nuarte's.

  "Oh, you can be sure I will,"

  "I was wondering, how does a creature like you eat, seeing as how
you've got an ass at both ends?"

  The room erupted with laughter.

  "Brave words from a groundling," sneered Nuarte. "Ya got any idea who
yer insultin'?"

  "A double-assed scrub monkey!" another sailor called out. More laughter
filled the salon.

  "Shut yer yaps, all of ya!" Nuarte howled. He pointed at Kevved. "Can't
none of ya see he ain't one of us?"

  "Seems to me you're the butt of the joke, fuzzy," laughed Kevved.

  Nuarte foundered for a moment, then unleashed a flurry of epithets at
Kevved so crude his ears burned. A few sailors actually blushed.

  As Nuarte wound down his verbal assault the door to the salon flew open.
In strode Torosa followed by Gisel. Neither looked happy.

  "Nuarte!" Gisel shouted. "I thought I told you to watch your language.
Get down off that table immediately!"

  "And for all our sakes put you clothes back on," Torosa added wearily.

  Nuarte hopped down from his perch and picked up his discarded tabard.
Muttering under his breath he pushed his way past Gisel and left.

  Shekkelleh turned to Kevved and nodded his approval.

  "You handled yourself well, honored Kevved. Most new travelers would
find Nuarte intimidating but you did not,"

  Kevved sighed and flexed his fingers. His hands had been balled up during
Nuarte's tirade and they were beginning to ache.

  "I've dealt with fools like him before in Waterdeep. The trick is to not
let
it get to you, or at least not to let them know they're getting to you.
Honestly though, I was so close to punching him,"

  Torosa and Gisel joined them. Gisel was carrying a platter which she set
on the table before her. It was piled high with what looked like
batter-fried
mushrooms. The aroma awakened Kevved's hunger and his stomach
growled loud enough for them to hear. Gisel pushed the platter toward him.

  "I can tell by the look in your eyes you're not going to let me eat these
by
myself,"

  "Was I that obvious?" Kevved asked.

  "Even Shekkelleh noticed, didn't you?"

  "It was not that difficult an observation for me," answered the dracon.

  Kevved popped a mushroom into his mouth and savored the pungent,
earthy flavor. He washed the morsel down with some ale and was pleasantly
surprised to hind his drink had taken on a warm mellow aftertaste.

  "They're called alefriends. They're delicious on their own but taste even
better with alcohol," said Gisel, answering Kevved's questioning look. "You
look like you're feeling better than you did when we first met,"

  "I think it's the walls in here. That and I'm trying not to look out the
windows. It's hard to get used to the openness of space," said Kevved.

  "You'll take to it soon enough. I bet by the time we leave Realmspace
you'll be walking around without a bucket,"

  "I can't wait. How long is that anyway?"

  Torosa spoke up.

  "I talked with the chartsman about that. Says fifteen, maybe sixteen days
to H'Catha, another sixteen to the sphere wall. From there it's twenty days
to Spiralspace, thirty at the most, and anywhere between five and eight days
to Bral depending on our point of entry,"

  "So anywhere between five and a half to seven weeks?" asked Kevved.

  "You're using the Torilian calendar. We run on seven days to the week
out here," Torosa said.

  Kevved recalculated the numbers.

  "Okay, that's eight to ten weeks,"

  "Correct. You've got a head for mathematics. Perhaps we should train
you in astrogation as well,"

  Kevved held up a hand.

  "Wait until I complete my apprenticeship. Then we'll talk about
astrogation,"

  Shekkelleh leaned forward inquisitively.

  "If I may ask, for what have you apprenticed yourself, friend Kevved?"
he asked.

  Kevved chewed on another mushroom and took a drink from his mug
before answering.

  "I'm going to be a wizard. Well, I hope to be someday. I'm kind of
nervous about the whole thing though,"

  "What is there to be nervous about, friend Kevved? Magic is a noble
profession,"

  "Noble or not, it's a guaranteed way to turn a quick profit out in
wildspace," added Gisel.

  "I think it's the whole idea of the unknown that has me hesitant. Plus I'm
a little old for apprenticeship. My father said there was a master that
Jalat
knows that prefers older apprentices. Beyond that it's a whole mystery,"

  "You've come this far into the unknown. I'd say your more than up to
meeting a challenge," noted Gisel.

  Torosa snapped his fingers.

  "I bet I know who Jalat's picked out. It has to be Muronis Saedhrecon.
You're in luck if it's him Kevved. He's rumored to be the best teacher in
nine spheres. He owes a few favors to Jalat and I wouldn't be surprised if
they've been called in. He's also a Seeker so he'll most likely have the
entire Library of the Spheres at his disposal,"

  "Well at least that tells me a little bit more," Kevved admitted. "What's
a
Seeker?"

  "They're a fraternity mostly," said Gisel. "Their whole purpose is to
spread knowledge, which isn't that bad a goal for a fraternity to have. Most
of the Seekers are wizards so they're more credible than say, a bunch of
hadozee. Can you imagine the kind of knowledge they'd want to share?"

  They all shuddered.

  "The problem with the Seekers on Bral is their goals conflict to some
extent with the Fireball Alliance which is the imperial wizards' guild,"
Torosa said. "That group has Prince Andru's approval to determine who can
teach what to whom and that flies in the face of everything the Seekers
believe in, so there's a strained relationship between the two,"

  "So you're saying I'm getting involved with a gang of outlaws? That's
hardly the kind of impression I want to make in a new place,"

  "Well, they're not outcasts by any means. There's also a third guild on
Bral, the Honored Mages' Guild that serves as a middleman to help balance
out the power. That's where most of the spellslingers gravitate, simply
because idealism doesn't intrude on them quite as much as the other two.
Just watch your step and everything will go smoothly,"

  Gisel got up and took the now empty platter off the table.

  "I'll go see what's cooking down below. Be back shortly," she said.

  Torosa turned to watch her leave. Although it was brief, Kevved sensed a
connection between the two that went beyond mere friendship. He didn't
know if Shekkelleh sensed it as well; the dracon was busy watching a trio of
sailors setting their chairs up in a half circle. Apparently there were a
few
members of the crew that were musically inclined, as their instruments gave
evidence.

  The first musician, a tall burly fellow, set up a staccato beat on the
drum
he held between his knees. His audience quickly echoed the beat, clapping
their hands in time with the drum. The second sailor began to play, his
fingers plucking the strings of his mandolin so quickly they were a blur.
Eventually he settled into a series of chordants Kevved recognized. It
appeared no matter where he went tavern songs were universal. Then the third
player started in, his flute carrying the melody above the beat.

  As the audience began to sing, Kevved let his eyes close partway as he
leaned back. Letting the music flow around him, he imagined himself back in
Waterdeep. If he tried, he could almost believe he had never left.

         *      *      *

  "You sent for me?"

  The voice was smooth, like polished glass, yet there was an edge to it
subtle enough for most people to miss. It had the habit of putting its
listeners off guard, which was what its speaker usually preferred. He waited
patiently for his employer to look up.

  Slowly Jalat rolled the scroll he was reading up and set it aside. There
was already a sizable pile on his desk that threatened to spill onto the
floor
but Jalat had a knack for balancing things. The collection of scrolls
shifted a little but held.

  Jalat looked up at his visitor.

  "What news have you?"

  "Construction is proceeding on schedule. The Arcane sent the accelerator
down to dry-dock two days ago, the liquid star is expected next week, and
word from the Ironworks is the projector is ready to be assembled,"

  "Finally, some good news. Have you heard the latest rumors?"

  The figure in front of him shook his head, a nearly imperceptible gesture
beneath the heavy hood he wore.

  "I have not," he said.

  Jalat pointed to the scroll he had set down.

  "The entire colony on Armistice has vanished, as were the three elven
patrol ships dispatched to guard it. The Imperial Elven Navy sent out an
investigation squadron but found nothing,"

  "What does this have to do with our consortium?"

  "Nothing yet. But add to that the fleets spotted massing around Steeleye
and the increased activity at Lionheart and that could prove extremely bad
not just for us but for everyone,"

  "Are you predicting another Inhuman War?"

  Jalat looked worried.

  "I hope not. Wars have a bad habit of disrupting legitimate trade and I'd
rather not delve into black market dealing to survive. There was an envoy
that arrived at the elven embassy yesterday. I'm waiting for my contacts to
bring word of what information he may have passed along to the
ambassador. I have a feeling it won't be good,"

  "Your feelings are usually accurate, Jalat,"

  "I know. I think what we can expect in the next few months is a little
more meddling from the elves. I doubt they'll declare martial law in
Spiralspace soon but they will start poking their noses into everyone's
business, including ours,"

  "The other trading houses will protest that kind of interference. Perhaps
they may be open to an alliance of sorts,"

  "No. There would be no way to hold it together. House Moune is the only
one I would trust to try to live up to a truce. Our best bet is depending on
Prince Andru's influence to keep the elves in line and even that influence
is
tenuous at best. I've been toying with the idea of relocating our entire
operation,"

  Jalat's visitor chuckled.

  "Your accountants will die from shock,"

  "Then we'll hire new ones. I haven't decided on moving yet but if I read
any more of these reports that may be exactly what we'll do. To be safe I
have a task for you perform,"

  "I will do my best to fulfill it,"

  "I'm sure you will," Jalat agreed. "I need you to exchange our entire Bral
reserve supply for a deposit scrip. We won't be going to the Arcane this
time so you are to find a dohwar agent and make sure the authenticity of the
scrip is guaranteed. I don't want to get burned on the details. In addition
I want the exchange destination to be limited to Greyspace. If anyone finds
out how much that paper is worth it would be best if they couldn't use it
anywhere else,"

  "I'll need a note authorizing me to do this,"

  Jalat handed him a sealed parchment stamped with the Delkao Trading
Company insignia.

  "Ahead of you on that. I'm trusting you to keep this transaction quiet.
Should the wrong people find out what we're doing it could cause
widespread panic,"

  "Like your accountants?"

  "Especially my accountants. Check back with me when you're done,"

  Jalat's visitor turned to leave. As he reached for the door he paused and
turned back toward the desk.

  "I do have a question regarding the Revenge. She's due here in two and a
half months. Are you still planning to decommission her once she puts in?"

  Jalat considered that.

  "In lieu of recent events I'm going to have to keep to the original plan.
However, plans do need to be revised from time to time."

  "I see," the cloaked figure said. He hesitated, as if preparing to ask
something else, and then decided against it. He opened the door and left.

  Jalat sighed and reached for another report.


	You can find all the chapters I've written so far for Second Wind on
Static's website at:
 http://www.gwr.com/~eshum/rpg/sj/tales/SecondWind/SecondWind.html