Down by the Water (Solo//Redux)

[Tubal]

The "Seafawn" muscled through the waters, closing in on Scara Brae laden with spices, linens, wines and one very sea sick donkey and her owner. The deck was alive with excitement as the coast materialized on the horizon, the city barely visible but for columns of smoke rising along the morning sky. Tubal Cimentarius was among those whose spirits were lifted by the sight of land and the faint smell of fauna carried on the breeze. Even the screeching chorus of Seagulls that circled overhead was like music, a welcome relief to the roiling the sea and the fitful lashing of sails.

Tubal's ruminations were halted as the Captain of the Seafawn tapped him on the shoulder. "Looks like the winds have turned against us," the Captain eyed him with a raised brow. "We'll make landfall by noontime. 'til then, stay out of the way."

Captain Bradshaw was his name. A human hobbled by several bouts of scurvy and more than his fair share of scared and stories. His off-putting appearance was more than made up for by a cantankerous attitude and a distrust of strangers.

"Don't worry, I'll stay right here, Captain. Thank you for letting me aboard, the Seafawn was the only one heading for Scara Brae in a timely manner." Tubal's accent was thick, but Bradshaw was used to many strange tongues.

"Yea, yea," he said gruffly. "You told me the story. You're lucky we had room for ya and your beast. By the way, we're going to have to renegotiate the fare. Your ass broke into a crate of spices! That's a lot of coin y'know!"

Tubal's face turned stony as the Captain's stubby finger reached to prod his chest. He twisted just out of reach of his short arms. "Hey, no no no, Bradshaw." Formality ceased as Tubal felt a rush of temperament. "You agreed on the price. It was all I had! I paid you more than enough to pay for any incidentals Ruth incurred! You get no more from me!"

In fact he was quite serious, Tubal had no more to give. He had just enough on him to pay his way on Scara Brae for a couple of days.

"You speak very brave for a guy who has so far to swim!" The Captain raised his voice, cracking with frustration, but he relented...for now. "Bah! As soon as we get to port, you and your donkey gets off! This is why I never haul passengers!" He withdrew his weathered hand and back off, looking around to notice some of his crew had stopped their work to watch the episode. The Captain stormed towards them. "Aye! Get back to work! All of you!"

Turning back towards the sea, Tubal watched as the green in the distance crept nearer. Fingering a coin from his satchel, one of a very precious few, he rolled it underneath his fingertips on the railing, mimicking the ship's yaw to and fro. The face of the coin glowed dimly, but the hope of what was to come was bright in his mind. A new beginning, a chance at something more...it drew him to Scara Brae, a virtual treasure trove of wealth from the stories back home. Tubal was determined to earn his piece.

It had been nearly a month since he left Fallien, leaving behind kith, kin and a lucrative future in the footsteps of his father's business. Tubal still remembered the anger on his father's face when he packed up his tools, bridled Rose to his cart and left without much warning. It seemed abrupt, but his departure was the culmination of years in stagnancy, going the traditional route of a Builder from his part of Fallien, he had learned many skills but still felt suffocated in the rigid system his father thrived in. It just wasn't for him, and his heart yearned for more.

[Tubal]

Below decks of the Seafawn, in the bow section of the uppermost cargo hold, Tubal sat on his haunches as he inspected the coat of his Mule, Rose. She would nay in defiance of the rocking of the ship as it drew into the mouth of the harbor, posting a leg to steady her lumbering body. Rose surprised him by how quickly she gained her sea legs during the voyage, while it took Tubal much longer to get over the sea sickness that still made his stomach sway. Trying to calm her further, he ran a hand along her side, "easy, girl. We're almost out of here," he coached.

He said that for both of them. Tending to Rose gave him a more than obvious excuse to stay out of Captain Bradshaw's sight since their last encounter. Winding down the last few hours readying his mare mule. Cleaning up bunches of straw and doing his best to remedy the less desirable outcome of having an animal pent up on a ship. He especially wanted to get rid of the grain Rose had pilfered. A part of him blamed the way they kept her close to the stores of food. Then again, no one wanted to see a drunken mule if she had broken into a cask of wine. Tubal chuckled at the idea. Perhaps that would living up the drudgery of life on the high seas.

Tubal stood and made his way to her head, holding her jowls in his hands as he looked into her eyes. They held a determined smolder in them, gleaning a spirit that was as stubborn as well...a mule. She was more than a beast of burden to Tubal, who remembered standing knee high to her, and still bore a scar on his knee from the first, and only, time he attempted to ride her. Indeed, he felt closer to her than he did to many of his human counterparts, sharing many "adventures" in his youth exploring the reaches of his father's small estate, and he would swear up and down to anyone that Rose saved his life on more than one occasion.

The mule nuzzled into his hands, snorting. She was ready to leave, and so was he. It was nearing high noon and the shouts overhead became more fervent, indicating that they were nearly docked. The stout ship leaned and yawed as the helmsman weaved the craft as nimbly as could be expected around much larger vessels. He had a feeling that Rose could sense that something was going to happen, with her head jerking back as she shrieked what begun as a whinny and ended in a crescendo of her characteristic drawn out hee-haw, as if caught between two different languages, and not knowing which to settle on.

The hatch above them lifted, flooding the dim hold in rich golden light. The youngest of the compliment, Tubal had gotten to know him decently enough shortly after they departed the Fallien. He imagined it was due to Arash being a green horn, on his first venture from his own homeland. A common tie they shared. Arash's curly black hair was limned by the sun. "T-t-tubal, sir," his young voice cracked, Tubal never asked but the boy couldn't have been older then fourteen or fifteen. "The C-captain says he wants you and Rose off the Seafawn as soon as the gangplank is lowered. We're getting your c-c-ca..." he cleared his throat and appeared to punish himself mentally. "Cart! Ready on deck now."

"Thanks, Arash. Just let me know when we're docked." The boy nodded, avoiding talking further as he let the hatch drop, shunting Tubal and Rose back into the relative darkness of the hold, as only a few lanterns lit the decks. Strange shadows rose and fell in time to the movement of the ship, and it was easy to Tubal to get spooked on the rare occasion that he was alone. Rose fortified him. He'd only feel foolish if he lost his nerve in front of her. Sometimes he wondered if that made him even more foolish.