The storm’s winds died down to a sharp, cool breeze, and the sun rose brilliantly behind the lingering gray clouds in the eastern sky. Pyx breathed deeply and leaned over the bow as the sailors weighed anchor, readying to leave the shelter of the cove and resume their course eastward towards the Allirian Strait.
Urgent shouts rose suddenly from the crow’s nest above, and Pyx turned to see a ship round the point of the peninsula, not far behind them. She was heading their way at full speed, sails full and oars out. Pyx squinted to make out her banner, but mutterings of “Pirates” and “All hands on deck!” eliminated any doubts as to whether they faced friend or foe. He heard the Vela’s captain shouting orders with haste and an excess of insults, amongst them “Where in the goddamn seven hells is Pyxidus? Get yer skinny arse to the quarterdeck and start casting spells or I’ll see it’s the first to decorate their bowsprit en brochette when they catch us!”
Pyx was sprinting too fast to reply.
He dodged past the sailors on the main deck as they hoisted the rigging, and pulled himself up the ladder to the quarterdeck where he had an optimal view of the Vela’s pursuers from the stern. Over his past few months at sea Pyx had studied protective and defensive spells that were useful in a nautical context; it turned out that he possessed a reasonable aptitude for manipulating winds, and—unsurprisingly—less aptitude for casting spells that would affect damage to another ship, especially at a distance. Knowing his weaknesses, he had taken pains to devise what he and the captain hoped was an effective strategy to assist in the ship’s defense, in case of need. First and foremost, he was to call up strong winds behind the sails to aid in their escape.
But the Vela was a large freighter, and it would be several minutes before her sails were unfurled. The pursuing ship was fast approaching but still well out of Pyx’s limited range, and he judged he had a few moments to spare. He pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket and began to speak the words of a protective spell as he carefully sketched a complex series of geometric symbols on the deck.
Suddenly he felt a great tremor in the magical energy surrounding him, as something powerful was unleashed nearby. He paused his spell-casting and whirled to face the pirate ship, from which a great crescent of shimmering air near 10 meters across had been launched, aimed directly at the Vela’s deck. They have a mage on-board, Pyx gulped in dismay, at once wondering how a band of pirates had allied with a mage and despairing that his meager efforts would certainly be outclassed. He crouched resolutely upon the deck and began whispering the words he’d learned to rouse the winds; the only way he could think to defend against such a spell.
The winds; the friendly, amiable winds that had danced in fury only last night remained unsettled, and Pyx found them eager to rise up again and dance at his request. As the crescent approached he gathered the winds into a cyclone directly in the spell’s path and as far behind the Vela as he could manage. As the crescent passed above the cyclone, Pyx unleashed the winds upwards with a word, creating in a backlash of energy that displaced a large plume of water into the sky, as if some great force had launched from the sea to intercept the pirate’s spell. The crescent was undamaged, but its path was redirected upwards away from the Vela’s deck. Pyx remained crouched as he watched the spell pass above him, holding his breath as it approached the sails.
Not high enough.
The outer edge of the crescent caught on one of the mizzen booms, and a great crack was heard as the lumber split with the force of impact. Pyx quickly leapt up and raced across the quarterdeck, grabbing hold of a sailor who stood beneath the falling boom and using his momentum to pull him away from the falling debris. But it was at this time that the shockwave from Pyx’s spell hit the ship, and the Vela was lifted upwards on a great swell and tipped suddenly forwards. Unprepared, Pyx tumbled over the railing from the quarterdeck to the main deck, the mizzen boom falling after him.
-------------
Pyx awoke in a place of light and shadow, his head splitting with pain and his eyes unfocused. There were voices nearby, but he couldn’t make out their words. He mumbled something, but found that he could not properly hear his own words, either. The ship rocked beneath him, and he could tell the Vela was underway, moving with a strong current. They must have made it out of the cove and into the strait. He wondered how close the pirates were; surely nearly on top of them.
He endeavored to call out again, and might have heard a faint moan escape from his throat this time. “Master Pyx? I think he’s awake, best fetch the captain,” he heard someone say, though they sounded quite far away. There was a scraping sound, and a section of the fallen mizzen sail was lifted from on top of him. Brightness from the sun struck his eyes, bringing on an overwhelming pain like his skull was being stabbed by a thousand daggers. He vomited. “Ahh- sorry, sir,” the voice said, and after a few moments the light dimmed again and he felt someone cleaning his face.
The sailor–Daniel, he remembered; a fine lute player, and actually a werewolf, though you wouldn’t suspect it, save for his shaggy beard–held up a piece of sail to shade Pyx’s eyes from the sun. “It took some time to get you out.,” Daniel explained, “ We would’ve reached you sooner, but the captain’s had us making repairs with all haste.” Pyx’s eyes searched upwards to the mizzen mast above them, where a number of sailors were trying to jury-rig a fix to steady the rigging. He could see that it wasn’t working, and knew that they needed every sail the Vela had to have a chance of outrunning the pirates. Without thinking, he raised his hand and began speaking the words of a spell. The remaining two-thirds of the broken mizzen boom slowly began to shrink in diameter, and it grew—as a tree, but without leaves or roots—outwards to resume its former length. The resulting boom wasn’t nearly as strong as it had been, but they could attach sails to it in a fair wind.
“What in the name of your father’s goat-faced mistress are you bloody doing, sailor?!” shouted the familiar voice of the captain. “You blundering idiot, stop him before he-”
Pyx felt his head swim, and the world went dark again.
-------------
This time Pyx awoke in the dim lantern light of his cabin. The window was open, and he heard the ocean outside mixed with the sound of a lute playing. “Daniel,” he said, his throat raw and parched. The music stopped, and the sailor’s face came into view as Pyx tried to sit up, his head still throbbing agonizingly, though not as severely as before. “Easy sir,” the sailor smiled softly, “or you’ll get me in trouble again.” He handed Pyx a cup of tea, and Pyx managed to swallow a few sips. He tasted willow bark. He looked around his cabin; it was quiet, as any normal night on the ship. Confused, he looked to Daniel. “What happened? Did we escape?”
Daniel sighed hesitantly. “We fought the pirates off, sir. The spell you gave the captain worked brilliantly, it stopped the mage in his tracks soon as they boarded the ship. A few got into the hold and took some of cargo, but they didn’t have time to take much else before we drove ‘em off. As for the rest, I’m supposed to bring the captain once you’re awake. Half a minute,” he said, standing and walking to the door. Pyx watched him leave the room, then closed his eyes and dozed.
A touch on his arm woke him again, and Pyx looked up into the face of the captain. He straightened his posture automatically, and noticed for the first time a bandage upon his head.
“Master Pyxidus,” said the captain, with an unsettling formality, “It is my duty to report that two sailors were killed in the skirmish with the pirates: Jeb and Iman. Both fought bravely, and we gave them a sailor’s burial at sunset. Jeb had no family that we know of, but as his captain I would like to request a year’s pay be sent to Iman’s family.”
Pyx stilled himself, pushing away thoughts of grief and regret. Two killed, for the pursuit of trade and profit. He knew it was a risk all of the ship’s sailors took, and their choice to make a living at sea, and yet it was not an easy reality to live. He nodded his consent without question.
“We also lost three sailors to the pirates. Many of their crew bore marks of ownership, and we believe they were slavers.”
Pyx’s eyes widened. Slavers this close to Elbion were unheard of. “Who-?”
“They snatched Penn before our eyes. She killed one with her dagger, and it took two of them to disarm her and drag her from her post. We didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late, and they had her on board. It was all we could do to drive them off the ship, let alone get her back. The others they took quietly, unseen - Lyra and Bae.”
The young women, Pyx mourned inwardly. He had assembled a diverse crew that included women, former thieves, former pirates even, and nonhumans. All were brave, independent souls willing to do honest work. To anyone else in his family it would seem that he had taken a risk on them, but it seemed to him the very opposite was true. He felt a heavy weight of responsibility.
He swallowed his grief, and took a breath to speak when his head split with pain and his vision turned to a blur. He must have cried out, and he curled into a ball with his hands upon his head. Daniel stepped forward with medicine, forcing an ill-tasting concoction into Pyx’s mouth until he managed to swallow. The captain stood, and he heard her footsteps as she turned to leave the room.
“Auriga,” he said, barely managing a whisper. Her footsteps stopped. “Follow them..."
“Aye, sir.”
-------------
They arrived late, under cover of darkness. Another day had passed, and Pyx’s condition had improved somewhat with rest and frequent doses of the horrible medicine that now seemed to be the only thing he could smell or taste. From his seat on the deck he could see hundreds of lights flickering along the city's shoreline, growing brighter as they approached. Leiden lay along the northern shoreline of the strait, and–with some help from Pyx, in his moments of lucidity– they had followed the pirates to the city's harbor. Captain Auriga leaned down to speak softly in Pyx's ear. “Would you be kind enough to point out their bearing, Master Pyx?” He closed his eyes and focused on their missing comrades. Penn’s connection was the strongest, but there was Lyra and young Bae as well. He reached out an unsteady hand and pointed the way, over the water towards the city’s south docks. Auriga laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder and relayed instructions to the Vela’s pilot to head for the western docks.
Pyx dozed as they coasted into the harbor, his head throbbing sharply. At one point he half-awoke as someone helped him dress, but he took little interest in the endeavor. A hat was placed on his head, presumably to hide his bandage, and he was bundled into different clothing. He heard the captain order some of the crewmen who were disembarking to disguise themselves as passengers, and assumed it was part of a plan. They were going to great lengths to preserve the advantage of surprise, for it was likely the only upper hand they would hold.
They presented false papers to the harbormaster, concealing the ship’s name, owner, and course. If the pirates were wary of pursuit and came to check the ship’s appearance in person there was a chance the Vela would be recognized, except that the ship the pirates had encountered at sea two days ago had a broken mizzen boom and the Vela’s boom was now intact.
Pyx was dozing off again when he was suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of something very sharp and strong, and he snapped awake to find himself looking into the eyes of the captain. “All right, Master Pyx?” she asked, her face shadowed in lantern light. “I need you to walk down the gangplank for me, to a carriage waiting below. Can you do that? T’isn’t far. Up you go, now.” Pyx felt hands helping him up, and the pain in his head spiked. Tears of pain leaked from his eyes, but he clamped his jaw shut to keep from crying out. “There’s a good lad,” said the captain. “Daniel’s here to help you along. Here, take his arm, you can lean on him.”
Pyx took a hesitant step forward, and leaned heavily on the sailor’s strong arm. The tension in his muscles caused his pain to flare; he paused, consciously relaxing his neck and shoulder muscles and separating them from what he needed his legs to do. He stepped forward again, and slowly–very slowly–made his way down from the ship with Daniel’s help. It felt like the world was watching him, yet the docks were still. It must look strange, he thought self-consciously, a grown man leaning on another’s arm for assistance. Word would spread if they were seen bringing wounded men to shore; he hoped the captain’s plan worked, whatever it may be.
Daniel guided him into the carriage, which was enclosed, and Pyx leaned back against its walls. The captain and a young lad named Mikael, who was the shipwright’s assistant, entered behind them. Both were smartly dressed, the captain with a fine blouse and trousers and a silver-headed swordcane, and Mikael with a pressed shirt and black tie. Pyx managed to glance to the side at Daniel, and realized that the sailor wore a suit. His eyelids grew heavy. “Are we going to a dance?” he managed to ask sardonically, before dozing off again.
It was impossible to sleep in an uphill carriage ride on a cobblestone city street, and it was all Pyx could do to keep from biting his tongue. They traveled some distance into the city before finally coming to a stop, and Pyx heard the familiar cheerful sounds of an inn’s common room outside the door. Mikael and Auriga exited the carriage first, and Daniel helped Pyx out more slowly. Their concern for appearances had passed, and Daniel half-carried Pyx the few short steps between the carriage and the inn’s front door.
Pyx was deposited at a table near the door, with a bench that allowed him to rest with his back against the wall. Daniel stayed with him and watched him closely. The room’s lights were much too bright for Pyx’s eyes, and he squinted to see what was going on. He caught sight of Auriga speaking to a woman, and there may have been one or two patrons scattered amongst the inn’s other tables, but the details were a bright blur. “What’s happening?” he asked Daniel wearily.
“The cap’n knows the innkeep’s wife, it seems,” said Daniel. “She’s talking to her now. I heard them send Mikael to fetch a Healer. Cap’n is explaining what happened, more or less, and says she’s hoping to book rooms for a few nights and doesn’t want the pirates to know we’re ‘ere.”
“Where is here?” Pyx didn’t recognize the inn, though he had visited Leiden before.
“Dunno, the sign outside was fancy... had writin’ on it. Picture of a bottle, maybe wine or brandy. It’s far from the docks, so no other sailors ‘ere. Cap’n mentioned earlier that the town is known for its spirits and said she knew where to get the best, maybe it’s ‘ere?”
Pyx would have thought that sounded very like Auriga, and approved wholeheartedly of her choice, had he not just drowsed off again.
He awoke some time later at the touch of hands gently holding either side of his head. Hesitantly he opened his eyes, and found the pain in his head had gone. The ever-present throbbing that had overwhelmed him for the past two days was much reduced, and his thoughts and senses were creeping tentatively back to the surface. He noticed himself taking full, deep breaths, and realized that his breathing before had been shallow and labored. Knowing that the Healer was still working, he remained still and quiet for several long minutes until she withdrew her hands.
“Thank you,” he said, hoping that the swelling light of gratitude he felt showed in some measure upon his face.
The Healer nodded, and turned to the captain. “He will recover, m’lady. See that he eats slowly at first.”
“Oh, we’ll see to him all right, no need to fuss. Mikael will take you to the ship...” Auriga walked with the Healer towards the door, where Pyx could no longer hear them talking. Daniel offered him a drink of water, which he heartily accepted, and ordered him some broth from the kitchen. When Auriga came back Pyx glowered at her irritably. “Captain, please don't tell me we have sailors with bleeding saber wounds back on the ship, and you let her see to my useless head first?”
Auriga laughed heartily as she sat down across from Pyx at the table. “There you are, sir! It’s good to have you back, Master Pyx.”
The innkeeper’s wife arrived with the broth, which she set in front of Pyx. “Your rooms are ready, if you’d like to take him up to rest?”
“Oh no,” said Auriga. “He’s slept quite enough, this one, and I’m certainly done hatching plans and secrecy on his behalf. We need his mind sharp. We’ll take a round of brandy, and another bowl of broth. Knowing him he’ll finish that one by the time you’ve come back, Healers orders be damned.”
Pyx pushed his back from the wall to sit up, and was surprised when the fabric of his shirt tugged at his collar and he had to shift his seat to ease the tension before he could rise. Looking down, he realized that they’d disguised him in a woman’s dress. A stylish bonnet lay on the table beside him. His eyebrows rose in mild surprise. Auriga’s eyes sparkled; she was clearly pleased with herself. All at once a flood of emotion from the past few days rose up, overwhelming him. Delirious, Pyx began to laugh, tears of anguish forming at the corners of his eyes. “En brochette? Do you even know what that means?”
Urgent shouts rose suddenly from the crow’s nest above, and Pyx turned to see a ship round the point of the peninsula, not far behind them. She was heading their way at full speed, sails full and oars out. Pyx squinted to make out her banner, but mutterings of “Pirates” and “All hands on deck!” eliminated any doubts as to whether they faced friend or foe. He heard the Vela’s captain shouting orders with haste and an excess of insults, amongst them “Where in the goddamn seven hells is Pyxidus? Get yer skinny arse to the quarterdeck and start casting spells or I’ll see it’s the first to decorate their bowsprit en brochette when they catch us!”
Pyx was sprinting too fast to reply.
He dodged past the sailors on the main deck as they hoisted the rigging, and pulled himself up the ladder to the quarterdeck where he had an optimal view of the Vela’s pursuers from the stern. Over his past few months at sea Pyx had studied protective and defensive spells that were useful in a nautical context; it turned out that he possessed a reasonable aptitude for manipulating winds, and—unsurprisingly—less aptitude for casting spells that would affect damage to another ship, especially at a distance. Knowing his weaknesses, he had taken pains to devise what he and the captain hoped was an effective strategy to assist in the ship’s defense, in case of need. First and foremost, he was to call up strong winds behind the sails to aid in their escape.
But the Vela was a large freighter, and it would be several minutes before her sails were unfurled. The pursuing ship was fast approaching but still well out of Pyx’s limited range, and he judged he had a few moments to spare. He pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket and began to speak the words of a protective spell as he carefully sketched a complex series of geometric symbols on the deck.
Suddenly he felt a great tremor in the magical energy surrounding him, as something powerful was unleashed nearby. He paused his spell-casting and whirled to face the pirate ship, from which a great crescent of shimmering air near 10 meters across had been launched, aimed directly at the Vela’s deck. They have a mage on-board, Pyx gulped in dismay, at once wondering how a band of pirates had allied with a mage and despairing that his meager efforts would certainly be outclassed. He crouched resolutely upon the deck and began whispering the words he’d learned to rouse the winds; the only way he could think to defend against such a spell.
The winds; the friendly, amiable winds that had danced in fury only last night remained unsettled, and Pyx found them eager to rise up again and dance at his request. As the crescent approached he gathered the winds into a cyclone directly in the spell’s path and as far behind the Vela as he could manage. As the crescent passed above the cyclone, Pyx unleashed the winds upwards with a word, creating in a backlash of energy that displaced a large plume of water into the sky, as if some great force had launched from the sea to intercept the pirate’s spell. The crescent was undamaged, but its path was redirected upwards away from the Vela’s deck. Pyx remained crouched as he watched the spell pass above him, holding his breath as it approached the sails.
Not high enough.
The outer edge of the crescent caught on one of the mizzen booms, and a great crack was heard as the lumber split with the force of impact. Pyx quickly leapt up and raced across the quarterdeck, grabbing hold of a sailor who stood beneath the falling boom and using his momentum to pull him away from the falling debris. But it was at this time that the shockwave from Pyx’s spell hit the ship, and the Vela was lifted upwards on a great swell and tipped suddenly forwards. Unprepared, Pyx tumbled over the railing from the quarterdeck to the main deck, the mizzen boom falling after him.
-------------
Pyx awoke in a place of light and shadow, his head splitting with pain and his eyes unfocused. There were voices nearby, but he couldn’t make out their words. He mumbled something, but found that he could not properly hear his own words, either. The ship rocked beneath him, and he could tell the Vela was underway, moving with a strong current. They must have made it out of the cove and into the strait. He wondered how close the pirates were; surely nearly on top of them.
He endeavored to call out again, and might have heard a faint moan escape from his throat this time. “Master Pyx? I think he’s awake, best fetch the captain,” he heard someone say, though they sounded quite far away. There was a scraping sound, and a section of the fallen mizzen sail was lifted from on top of him. Brightness from the sun struck his eyes, bringing on an overwhelming pain like his skull was being stabbed by a thousand daggers. He vomited. “Ahh- sorry, sir,” the voice said, and after a few moments the light dimmed again and he felt someone cleaning his face.
The sailor–Daniel, he remembered; a fine lute player, and actually a werewolf, though you wouldn’t suspect it, save for his shaggy beard–held up a piece of sail to shade Pyx’s eyes from the sun. “It took some time to get you out.,” Daniel explained, “ We would’ve reached you sooner, but the captain’s had us making repairs with all haste.” Pyx’s eyes searched upwards to the mizzen mast above them, where a number of sailors were trying to jury-rig a fix to steady the rigging. He could see that it wasn’t working, and knew that they needed every sail the Vela had to have a chance of outrunning the pirates. Without thinking, he raised his hand and began speaking the words of a spell. The remaining two-thirds of the broken mizzen boom slowly began to shrink in diameter, and it grew—as a tree, but without leaves or roots—outwards to resume its former length. The resulting boom wasn’t nearly as strong as it had been, but they could attach sails to it in a fair wind.
“What in the name of your father’s goat-faced mistress are you bloody doing, sailor?!” shouted the familiar voice of the captain. “You blundering idiot, stop him before he-”
Pyx felt his head swim, and the world went dark again.
-------------
This time Pyx awoke in the dim lantern light of his cabin. The window was open, and he heard the ocean outside mixed with the sound of a lute playing. “Daniel,” he said, his throat raw and parched. The music stopped, and the sailor’s face came into view as Pyx tried to sit up, his head still throbbing agonizingly, though not as severely as before. “Easy sir,” the sailor smiled softly, “or you’ll get me in trouble again.” He handed Pyx a cup of tea, and Pyx managed to swallow a few sips. He tasted willow bark. He looked around his cabin; it was quiet, as any normal night on the ship. Confused, he looked to Daniel. “What happened? Did we escape?”
Daniel sighed hesitantly. “We fought the pirates off, sir. The spell you gave the captain worked brilliantly, it stopped the mage in his tracks soon as they boarded the ship. A few got into the hold and took some of cargo, but they didn’t have time to take much else before we drove ‘em off. As for the rest, I’m supposed to bring the captain once you’re awake. Half a minute,” he said, standing and walking to the door. Pyx watched him leave the room, then closed his eyes and dozed.
A touch on his arm woke him again, and Pyx looked up into the face of the captain. He straightened his posture automatically, and noticed for the first time a bandage upon his head.
“Master Pyxidus,” said the captain, with an unsettling formality, “It is my duty to report that two sailors were killed in the skirmish with the pirates: Jeb and Iman. Both fought bravely, and we gave them a sailor’s burial at sunset. Jeb had no family that we know of, but as his captain I would like to request a year’s pay be sent to Iman’s family.”
Pyx stilled himself, pushing away thoughts of grief and regret. Two killed, for the pursuit of trade and profit. He knew it was a risk all of the ship’s sailors took, and their choice to make a living at sea, and yet it was not an easy reality to live. He nodded his consent without question.
“We also lost three sailors to the pirates. Many of their crew bore marks of ownership, and we believe they were slavers.”
Pyx’s eyes widened. Slavers this close to Elbion were unheard of. “Who-?”
“They snatched Penn before our eyes. She killed one with her dagger, and it took two of them to disarm her and drag her from her post. We didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late, and they had her on board. It was all we could do to drive them off the ship, let alone get her back. The others they took quietly, unseen - Lyra and Bae.”
The young women, Pyx mourned inwardly. He had assembled a diverse crew that included women, former thieves, former pirates even, and nonhumans. All were brave, independent souls willing to do honest work. To anyone else in his family it would seem that he had taken a risk on them, but it seemed to him the very opposite was true. He felt a heavy weight of responsibility.
He swallowed his grief, and took a breath to speak when his head split with pain and his vision turned to a blur. He must have cried out, and he curled into a ball with his hands upon his head. Daniel stepped forward with medicine, forcing an ill-tasting concoction into Pyx’s mouth until he managed to swallow. The captain stood, and he heard her footsteps as she turned to leave the room.
“Auriga,” he said, barely managing a whisper. Her footsteps stopped. “Follow them..."
“Aye, sir.”
-------------
They arrived late, under cover of darkness. Another day had passed, and Pyx’s condition had improved somewhat with rest and frequent doses of the horrible medicine that now seemed to be the only thing he could smell or taste. From his seat on the deck he could see hundreds of lights flickering along the city's shoreline, growing brighter as they approached. Leiden lay along the northern shoreline of the strait, and–with some help from Pyx, in his moments of lucidity– they had followed the pirates to the city's harbor. Captain Auriga leaned down to speak softly in Pyx's ear. “Would you be kind enough to point out their bearing, Master Pyx?” He closed his eyes and focused on their missing comrades. Penn’s connection was the strongest, but there was Lyra and young Bae as well. He reached out an unsteady hand and pointed the way, over the water towards the city’s south docks. Auriga laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder and relayed instructions to the Vela’s pilot to head for the western docks.
Pyx dozed as they coasted into the harbor, his head throbbing sharply. At one point he half-awoke as someone helped him dress, but he took little interest in the endeavor. A hat was placed on his head, presumably to hide his bandage, and he was bundled into different clothing. He heard the captain order some of the crewmen who were disembarking to disguise themselves as passengers, and assumed it was part of a plan. They were going to great lengths to preserve the advantage of surprise, for it was likely the only upper hand they would hold.
They presented false papers to the harbormaster, concealing the ship’s name, owner, and course. If the pirates were wary of pursuit and came to check the ship’s appearance in person there was a chance the Vela would be recognized, except that the ship the pirates had encountered at sea two days ago had a broken mizzen boom and the Vela’s boom was now intact.
Pyx was dozing off again when he was suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of something very sharp and strong, and he snapped awake to find himself looking into the eyes of the captain. “All right, Master Pyx?” she asked, her face shadowed in lantern light. “I need you to walk down the gangplank for me, to a carriage waiting below. Can you do that? T’isn’t far. Up you go, now.” Pyx felt hands helping him up, and the pain in his head spiked. Tears of pain leaked from his eyes, but he clamped his jaw shut to keep from crying out. “There’s a good lad,” said the captain. “Daniel’s here to help you along. Here, take his arm, you can lean on him.”
Pyx took a hesitant step forward, and leaned heavily on the sailor’s strong arm. The tension in his muscles caused his pain to flare; he paused, consciously relaxing his neck and shoulder muscles and separating them from what he needed his legs to do. He stepped forward again, and slowly–very slowly–made his way down from the ship with Daniel’s help. It felt like the world was watching him, yet the docks were still. It must look strange, he thought self-consciously, a grown man leaning on another’s arm for assistance. Word would spread if they were seen bringing wounded men to shore; he hoped the captain’s plan worked, whatever it may be.
Daniel guided him into the carriage, which was enclosed, and Pyx leaned back against its walls. The captain and a young lad named Mikael, who was the shipwright’s assistant, entered behind them. Both were smartly dressed, the captain with a fine blouse and trousers and a silver-headed swordcane, and Mikael with a pressed shirt and black tie. Pyx managed to glance to the side at Daniel, and realized that the sailor wore a suit. His eyelids grew heavy. “Are we going to a dance?” he managed to ask sardonically, before dozing off again.
It was impossible to sleep in an uphill carriage ride on a cobblestone city street, and it was all Pyx could do to keep from biting his tongue. They traveled some distance into the city before finally coming to a stop, and Pyx heard the familiar cheerful sounds of an inn’s common room outside the door. Mikael and Auriga exited the carriage first, and Daniel helped Pyx out more slowly. Their concern for appearances had passed, and Daniel half-carried Pyx the few short steps between the carriage and the inn’s front door.
Pyx was deposited at a table near the door, with a bench that allowed him to rest with his back against the wall. Daniel stayed with him and watched him closely. The room’s lights were much too bright for Pyx’s eyes, and he squinted to see what was going on. He caught sight of Auriga speaking to a woman, and there may have been one or two patrons scattered amongst the inn’s other tables, but the details were a bright blur. “What’s happening?” he asked Daniel wearily.
“The cap’n knows the innkeep’s wife, it seems,” said Daniel. “She’s talking to her now. I heard them send Mikael to fetch a Healer. Cap’n is explaining what happened, more or less, and says she’s hoping to book rooms for a few nights and doesn’t want the pirates to know we’re ‘ere.”
“Where is here?” Pyx didn’t recognize the inn, though he had visited Leiden before.
“Dunno, the sign outside was fancy... had writin’ on it. Picture of a bottle, maybe wine or brandy. It’s far from the docks, so no other sailors ‘ere. Cap’n mentioned earlier that the town is known for its spirits and said she knew where to get the best, maybe it’s ‘ere?”
Pyx would have thought that sounded very like Auriga, and approved wholeheartedly of her choice, had he not just drowsed off again.
He awoke some time later at the touch of hands gently holding either side of his head. Hesitantly he opened his eyes, and found the pain in his head had gone. The ever-present throbbing that had overwhelmed him for the past two days was much reduced, and his thoughts and senses were creeping tentatively back to the surface. He noticed himself taking full, deep breaths, and realized that his breathing before had been shallow and labored. Knowing that the Healer was still working, he remained still and quiet for several long minutes until she withdrew her hands.
“Thank you,” he said, hoping that the swelling light of gratitude he felt showed in some measure upon his face.
The Healer nodded, and turned to the captain. “He will recover, m’lady. See that he eats slowly at first.”
“Oh, we’ll see to him all right, no need to fuss. Mikael will take you to the ship...” Auriga walked with the Healer towards the door, where Pyx could no longer hear them talking. Daniel offered him a drink of water, which he heartily accepted, and ordered him some broth from the kitchen. When Auriga came back Pyx glowered at her irritably. “Captain, please don't tell me we have sailors with bleeding saber wounds back on the ship, and you let her see to my useless head first?”
Auriga laughed heartily as she sat down across from Pyx at the table. “There you are, sir! It’s good to have you back, Master Pyx.”
The innkeeper’s wife arrived with the broth, which she set in front of Pyx. “Your rooms are ready, if you’d like to take him up to rest?”
“Oh no,” said Auriga. “He’s slept quite enough, this one, and I’m certainly done hatching plans and secrecy on his behalf. We need his mind sharp. We’ll take a round of brandy, and another bowl of broth. Knowing him he’ll finish that one by the time you’ve come back, Healers orders be damned.”
Pyx pushed his back from the wall to sit up, and was surprised when the fabric of his shirt tugged at his collar and he had to shift his seat to ease the tension before he could rise. Looking down, he realized that they’d disguised him in a woman’s dress. A stylish bonnet lay on the table beside him. His eyebrows rose in mild surprise. Auriga’s eyes sparkled; she was clearly pleased with herself. All at once a flood of emotion from the past few days rose up, overwhelming him. Delirious, Pyx began to laugh, tears of anguish forming at the corners of his eyes. “En brochette? Do you even know what that means?”
