The oh-so delightful smell of a sailing ship
Chapter 6 - Part 1 (Voyage of the Dawn Breaker)
“Come along, Flur; Rhyslin's cabin is this way,” Natolie called out from the stairwell, which led below decks.
Flur tore herself away from the bustle of the sailors as they moved from task to task. With a nod, she went to the stairwell and peered into the gloom. Ugh, what is that smell? She wondered as the stench of unwashed men, stale brine, and bilge wafted up from below. She cast a curious glance at the redhead, one that seemed to ask, Do we have to go down there? When the sealgair aisling nodded and started down the steps, Flur wrinkled her nose and followed her. “What is that smell?” she finally asked as she covered her nose.
“A little of this and a little of that,” Natolie commented with a dismissive shrug.
Flur looked down the dim corridor. “Does he have to smell this putrid odor?” Ciad-Ghin asked, trying not to retch.
“Of course not,” Natolie replied. “His great cabin, and yours, has windows that open.”
Flur blinked and looked down at the deck. She tried to cover her embarrassment and hoped the tips of her ears didn't give her away. “I didn't know that,” she admitted.
Natolie shrugged, “There is no way that you could know.” She stopped and turned to the golden-haired bean-cheangail, “Have you ever been on a galleon?” When Flur shook her head, Natolie nodded. “Don't worry about it.” She turned and made her way down the corridor. “Rhyslin's cabin is at the end of this corridor. Yours is next to his, and I think you'll like it.”
Flur glanced suspiciously at Natolie as another waft of sour air tickled her nose. How can she stand the smell? She wondered as she followed Natolie to a nondescript brown door at the end of the corridor. Would Maighstir Rhyslin let me sleep on the deck? When the sealgair aisling unlocked the door and pushed it open, Flur glanced at her and cautiously stepped forward.
When she reached the center of the ten-foot by ten-foot room, she froze and looked around in awe. She had expected a dark, cramped box, not a bright space with a two-foot by two-foot window. Now, where is the bed? She looked around the room. Maybe that is. She guessed when she noticed a box-like frame on the wall to her left. She quirked a brow as she walked over and examined it. Now, do you know how it works? She wondered as she brushed her fingers across the edge of the box. She blinked as she felt a raised portion of the wood and carefully pushed it to the left.
The frame started to descend, and she stepped back and watched as the box opened and stopped when two ropes held it against the wall. She ran her hands across the mattress that filled the frame. It felt soft, and she fancied it was filled with goose down. If this is the bed, then that would be the table, she thought as she saw a similar frame on the opposite wall. She looked around but couldn't find anything that looked like a chair. I'll have to ask Rhyslin for one. She turned to thank Natolie, only to discover that she had left.
She saw a door between the bed and table and walked over to it before opening it up. Instead of the closet she had expected to find, she stood inside a much larger cabin. Could this be Maighstir Rhyslin's cabin? She gazed around the thirty-foot-by-thirty-foot cabin and shook her head. His cabin held two medium-sized wardrobe cabinets along the wall to her left.
A roll-top desk sat in the left corner while a tasteful painting of Mathair na Coille reaching for the stars was hanging on the opposite wall. That's a S'lmas work. She blinked in surprise and tenderly smiled when she saw two potted saplings in the room's corners. Where does Rhyslin sleep? She turned in place, looking for a bed, but not finding one. The only other piece of furniture was an oversized, comfortable-looking chair facing the big windows that led outside.
“Captain.” O'Cuire looked up from the cargo manifest as one of the deckhands walked up and saluted. When the captain arched a brow, the sailor continued, “The last of the soldiers are on board.”
“Very well, secure the gangway and notify Magaidh Rembran.” The captain frowned as the sailor didn't immediately run off and carry out his task. “Yes? What is it?”
“About that,” the sailor paused and then quickly explained, “there are two Ciad-Ghin requesting permission to come aboard.” He had a strange look in his eyes. “Sir, they asked to speak to Maighstir Darkblade.”
Interesting, O'Cuire shrugged it off. “Find Maighstir Darkblade and let him know that he has guests holding up our departure.” The sailor nodded and raced off to find the draoidh.
Within minutes, Rhyslin was standing at the head of the gangway, looking down at Ilyriatri and Vuuroena.
“Maighstir Darkblade, may we have permission to come aboard?” Ilyriatri inquired as she looked up at the draoidh. When he nodded, both women walked up the gangway and stopped before stepping onto the deck.
“I thought you were going to travel with Mayana to Caisteal uaine Beinne,” He commented as he looked into Ilyriatri's eyes.
Under his intense gaze, Ilyriatri slowly blushed and fought the impulse to fidget. “I thought it would be better if I spent some time exploring your country.” She paused, suddenly unsure of herself.
Rhyslin noticed her slow blush and heard the unspoken, If it's okay with you, in her voice. “Very well,” he replied. “If you'll follow me,” he paused mid-sentence when a familiar head of black hair appeared as the person sprinted up the gangway. Is that Keisha or Mathair?
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