Sneak Peek

Here’s a glimpse at what, other than Maia, has been occupying my time:

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From high above, the ship appeared as but a speck on the vast ocean, floating in a beam of silver-capped waves highlighted by the moon.  Gliding carelessly on the wind sweeping from the mountainous coast of Prys and east over the water towards the Isles of Kelepi, the salt-hawk noticed the vessel only because a glint of gold shone on the deck.  Dipping a red-tipped wing, it began spiraling downwards.

Towards the boat the salt-hawk curved, seeking again the sparkle of gold, finding it now at the stern of the twin masted ship where two figures stood, cloaked, hoods pulled up against the sea spray that fanned towards them.  One, the smaller of them, gestured and there the salt-hawk saw the gold, gleaming on pale flesh.  Still, it alighted atop the rear of the stern where it overhung the water, waiting for something verminous to emerge from the shadows.

The figures did not seem to notice the bird settling near them.  The smaller one, emphasizing words with movements of its hands, spoke: “We’re halfway home.  I hope.  This has been more adventure than I expected.”

The taller, hands resting atop the wooden railing that bordered the entire vessel, stood in silence.  This one held itself in utter stillness, a predator waiting for the right moment to strike or perhaps prey hoping to escape notice, but most certainly one accustomed to the balance of the wild. “Winter is coming, and will hold us in the mountains.  If we had not dallied on the islands…”

“Dallied?” the short one laughed. “Blessed be, that we were able to leave at all amazes me.”

“It was treacherous,” the taller allowed, “and hopefully, our return is less so.”

For long moments, their words quieted.  Beneath the susurration of waves against the ship, the salt-hawk caught a slight scratching – a rodent, somewhere nearby.  Head canted, it peered into the shadows cast by the cabin on the stern, waiting.

Then the shorter one said, turning to the taller, “You should give this a chance.  You and I.”  A pause, before a breathy whisper that nearly escaped on the wind: “Please.”

Tagged as: storytelling