Wanderlust - Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Soren slowly woke up. He knew he'd been at the tavern the night before, his pounding head was evidence enough. Not that it was a surprise. He'd spent almost every night since Toliver's rejection in that tavern, sometimes he never even managed to get back up to his room. With a groan he stretched and sat up, rubbing his hands over his eyes before finally opening them.
He shot to his feet instantly, staring in alarm at the Teltan who was sprawled across the other half of the tiny bed. It was the man he'd spoken to at the bar, he remembered that much. The man was clearly naked under the thin sheet. Soren's eyes skimmed over him, momentarily appreciating the view, before he forced himself to look away.
He saw his clothing in a messy pile on the floor, and as quietly as possible he crouched and started to get dressed. Soren had just finished tying his pants when the Teltan moved. Soren froze as the man's eyes opened.
"Where are you going?"
Soren stared at him with wide eyes. "I thought I'd—I thought—"
The man sat up and leaned back on his hands. The sheet slipped to his hips, leaving his chest bare. He didn't look like the type of Teltan Soren was used to. His hair was long, done up in braids which were then loosely tied together behind his head. His skin was tanned like a Crelan's. His eyes were the usual Teltish blue—the only part of him that looked typical. He raised an eyebrow, obviously noticing the way Soren was staring at him. "You thought what?"
Soren swallowed and forced himself to meet the man's gaze. "Who are you?"
"Oh. Captain Tanden of the WDN Wanderlust." The man leaned forward and held out his hand.
Soren instinctively moved to shake it, but suddenly withdrew when the name clicked in his mind. "Tanden?" he repeated. "Lord Tanden of West Draulin?"
"I prefer Captain, but yes."
Soren groaned. "Great Roe, what have I done..." He sat down on the bed, his back to Lord Tanden, and buried his face in his hands. He tried to calm down, but his heart was racing. He had never imagined talking to one of the Tandrans, let alone waking up beside one. He felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched away from it.
"Sorry. I just wanted to get a better look at your tattoo," the lord said. "I've been thinking of getting one myself."
Soren stayed still as the lord ran his fingers over the tattoo. Maybe the lord just wasn't used to the traditional style of the tattoos continuing over a person's shoulder. There was no other reason to be so fascinated. While the lord was distracted, Soren tried to remember what had happened. Clearly he'd brought the lord up to his room, and even now he couldn't blame his drunken self for that. The lord was every bit as attractive as Toliver, but he'd actually wanted Soren, and that was new. Soren took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare himself to say something, when the lord spoke again.
"What's your name?"
He exhaled. "Soren, my lord."
"The title's a tad unnecessary, given last night."
Soren turned around. The lord had propped up the pillows and was leaning against them. "I... don't remember," he admitted.
The lord chuckled. "Oh... now that's a shame."
Soren wasn't sure what to make of that. The very idea that this man was in his room was shocking enough, he didn't really want to think about what they'd done. "I'm sorry, my lord, but... could you leave?" Everything was making him uncomfortable.
"Not everyone gets to lie with a lord," he replied. "Revel in the moment, Soren."
Soren couldn't force the lord to leave, he knew that. Nobles did whatever they wanted, especially when they happened to be Tandrans. He didn't know what to do, so he looked away. Every time he looked at the lord he ended up staring, and it wasn't helping the situation.
"You invited me up here," the lord said. The smug cockiness was gone from his voice, and he sounded a little concerned. "You don't remember that, do you? I didn't force myself on you."
Soren had assumed as much. "I was drunk."
"True," the lord said. "We had a good time, though."
"I'm sure we did, sir," Soren mumbled.
"That's enough of that," the lord said. "If you insist on using a title every time you speak to me, at least use the right one. Captain."
"Aye, Captain."
"Better, but still unnecessary," the lord moved to sit beside him. He didn't seem to care that he was still naked, and he laughed when Soren looked away. "I don't mind being stared at."
Soren felt heat rise to his cheeks but said nothing.
After a moment the lord stood up and started to pull on his clothing. It made such a difference; Soren's mind cleared a bit without the constant distraction. He still wanted the lord to leave, but at least he felt slightly more comfortable talking to the man when he had clothing on.
"Last night you said you weren't looking for a job. I'd like to offer you one anyway."
Soren instantly imagined going with the man, living like a pet. Chances are the lord hadn't met many men willing to spend the night with him, of course he would want to keep one close. Soren shook his head. "No thank you, Captain. I don't want another job."
"I hate to think of a young Crelan wasting away in a bar," the lord said. "You should be on a ship."
Soren shook his head again.
"Think about it," the lord said. He slipped his fingers under Soren's chin and lifted his face, then leaned down and kissed him. "I'll come back tonight and we can discuss it." He casually strolled from the room, and it was only after he left that Soren relaxed. There had been so much feeling behind that kiss, Soren was glad the lord had left after only one. He doubted he would have been able to control himself otherwise.
He stayed in the room for most of what was left of the morning. Half of the time he tried to remember anything from the night before, and he spent the rest of the time trying to forget anything had happened. He finally left his tiny room around noon and went outside. While aimlessly walking to clear his thoughts, he was a little shocked to find the port had opened up in front of him.
The ship caught his attention instantly. It was the beautiful ship from West Draulin, the one he'd seen on his first day aboard the Hiraeth. He remembered the rumours about the ship belonging to a Tandran, but he would have never thought the Tandran was actually the captain. He made up his mind and moved closer to the ship. The WDN Wanderlust. He read the name under his breath and liked the way it sounded.
There were sailors unloading cargo. Crelans, Teltans and some darker skinned people, probably Native Zians or Deorans, or even Navirians. Soren walked over to them and nodded at one of the Crelans.
"Afternoon, mate."
"Afternoon," the man replied. He wiped an arm across his sweaty forehead. "Didn't see another Ziannan ship. You workin' for the Deorans?"
Soren shook his head. "Got fired," he admitted.
"Ah, some luck, that," the man replied. He didn't ask why, because Crelans didn't care. He probably assumed Soren had been fired by an unfair Teltish captain.
"Aye, right. Ship's a beauty. Where's she from?"
"Ain't she?" The sailor grinned. "Prettiest ship I've ever worked on, no doubt. Reliable, too. She's from West Draulin—built on Crele, though."
"Aye, course she was. How long are you mooring?"
"Reckon 'bout a week. The captain likes to explore every new place we visit and that takes time. 'Least we get decent shore leave."
Soren nodded. "Who's the captain, then?"
"Teltish lad, Captain Tanden."
Soren nodded again, then pretended to have suddenly recognized the name. "Lord Tanden of West Draulin?"
"That's the one," the sailor agreed. "Don't let him hear you say that, mind you. He's Captain Tanden. Doesn't like being called lord. Doesn't act much like one, either."
"No? Seems to me like working underneath a lord would be hard."
"No harder than any other captain," the sailor said. "Been with him for six years, now. He's a good man."
"Nice to hear."
"Why so curious, mate? Looking for a job?"
Soren shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe if the right one comes along. Reckon it would be nice to get out of Deor-Morcea."
The sailor chuckled. "Not built for a life on land, aye?"
"Not at all," Soren agreed.
"I could put in a word with the captain, if you'd like."
"Oh, no," Soren shook his head. "I need to think about it first, right? Maybe I'll come across him anyway. Thanks, mate." He walked away, trying his best to not look like he was trying to avoid running into the lord. That was the last thing he wanted. Besides, the lord had promised he'd be back. Soren hadn't decided if he was looking forward to the visit or dreading it.
He went back to the tavern. He slipped through the now familiar doors and made his way to the bar. The bartender greeted him with a nod and put a bowl of stew in front of him.
"Your rich friend told me to give you this," the bartender said, in Teltish so good it surprised Soren every time he heard it.
Soren sighed, but he couldn't afford to not accept it, so he pulled the bowl closer. "Thank you."
The bartender picked up a tankard and started to clean it. "Did he pay you well?"
Soren froze with the spoon halfway to his mouth. "What?"
"I saw the way he looked at you. Pretty clear intentions."
The bartender didn't seem to mind the idea, which put Soren at ease a bit even though he didn't like the idea of talking about it. "He didn't pay me."
"So how are you going to pay for that room?"
Soren felt a twinge of guilt. Over and over again, he'd promised the bartender, who was also the tavern's owner, that he'd find the money to pay for his room. "Maybe I could work for it?"
"Maybe." The bartender got distracted as someone called over to him in Deoran and he walked away. Soren started to eat. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he tasted the food. He was just scraping up the last of the broth, his mind flipping between excitement and dread for the lord's return, when he was bumped into.
Before he knew what was happening, a large Deoran soldier had him pinned against the bar and was growling something. Soren shook the man off, only to be grabbed by a second soldier, who held his arms behind his back. The first man was still talking. The front of his tunic was soaked and there was an empty tankard at his feet. Soren put two and two together and realized he was being blamed for the accident.
"I didn't do anything," Soren protested. He pulled against the man holding him, then winced as his arms were twisted back further.
The bartender stormed back towards them. He and the first soldier argued and Soren felt hopeful, until the bartender backed down. He glanced at Soren apologetically, but Soren wasn't angry at him. There was only so much a regular person could do against soldiers.
The soldiers dragged Soren from the tavern. He didn't put up a fight, knowing that doing so would only get him in more trouble. He didn't try to defend himself, either, since it seemed like the soldiers couldn't speak Teltish. He went along meekly as they led him through the streets and to the jail. The cell they tossed him into was freezing and Soren curled up as far from the bars as he could manage. He wrapped his arms around his legs and sighed heavily. As if the day hadn't already been complicated enough. He thought about the lord going to the tavern and not finding him, and he couldn't decide how he felt about it.
Tanden spent the day talking to various merchants in Deor-Morcea. He sold some goods and bought some new ones, supervised the loading and unloading of his new cargo, and checked in on his crew. The first half returned around noon, and the second half went off on their short break. Usually he would get all this work done as quickly as possible so he could get back to exploring, but that day he was distracted. He needed Soren. For practical reasons as well as personal ones. Crelans didn't waste away in taverns. The Wanderlust was down a man and could use another sailor. Soren was young and strong and would make an excellent addition to the crew, if only he would accept Tanden's offer. But the practical reasons weren't the ones distracting Tanden.
That evening, once all his real work was done, Tanden returned to the tavern. He hoped to see Soren at the bar again, but he wasn't there. He walked over and sat down, ordered a drink for himself. Surely the Crelan would show up.
But as time passed Tanden wasn't so sure. He waved over the bartender. He knew the man could speak Teltish, but he asked in Deoran. "Have you seen the Crelan?"
"He was here around midday," the bartender replied. "A pair of soldiers walked into him and spilled their ale. They blamed him, but it was their fault. I tried to talk them down, but they arrested him after he put up a bit of a struggle."
"You couldn't help him?"
The bartender shrugged. "I didn't want to get arrested."
"Yes, of course." Tanden mentally chastised himself. Sometimes he forgot that regular people couldn't simply stand up to soldiers without getting in trouble. "Where's the jail?"
"Head up the road, take your first left and keep walking. You can't miss it."
"Thank you." Tanden paid for his ale and quickly left. He followed the bartender's directions, and sure enough, before long the jail appeared in front of him. He walked in confidently, knowing that if he presented himself as someone with power the soldiers were more likely to respect him, even if they had no idea who he was.
Within the jail, there were two men. They got to their feet as he entered and moved to stand in his way. Tanden stopped. "I'm here to speak with my sailor. I understand he was arrested earlier this afternoon. A Crelan."
The men seemed startled when he spoke in Deoran and fumbled over their answers.
"Yes, he spilled our—"
"He pushed—"
"I don't care what he did," Tanden said, putting every bit of authority he could manage into his words. "He's my sailor and I'll deal with him appropriately. Where is he?"
"Down the hall," one of the guards muttered, waving in the right direction.
"Thank you, gentlemen." Tanden walked down the hallway, ignoring the other prisoners until he saw Soren. The Crelan was sitting as far back in his cell as he could, his knees drawn up to his chest and his head buried in his arms. Tanden rapped on the bars. "Did you think about it?"
He heard the Crelan groan before he raised his head. "Why did you come back?"
"I said I would," Tanden pointed out. "I'm pretty persistent when I have my mind set on something. Did you think about my offer? The pay will be good."
"I'm sorry, Captain. I don't want a job."
"What if I offer to bail you out of jail? On the condition that you work off your debt to me, of course."
"I don't need your help," Soren muttered.
"I'm not trying to help you. Well, I suppose I am, but mostly I'm trying to hire you."
Soren got to his feet and approached the bars. "Please leave me alone. I'm not a prostitute."
The lord looked shocked. "I never said you were, and I'm sorry if it seemed like I was implying it. I'm offering you a job as a sailor, nothing more."
Soren felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. All day, he had assumed the lord wanted a servant. Suddenly the offer didn't seem so bad, but he had to be sure. "What happens when I work off the debt? Will you leave me in the next port?"
"You'll be free to leave, I suppose. If you want to go," the lord said.
"I'd have a choice?"
"Of course," the lord said. "I hope you'll choose to stay, but I've never forced anyone to stay if they want to leave."
Soren crossed his arms. "And, if I do stay... what will you expect from me?" The question was harder than he thought it would be, because it meant acknowledging what he'd done the night before. Or, more accurately, what he'd allowed Lord Tanden to do.
"Nothing I wouldn't expect from the rest of my crew. Unless you offer, in which case I won't refuse."
Soren wanted to believe that it would never happen, that he would never feel compelled to offer anything to the lord. But then he remembered how that morning, simply looking at the man had made it difficult to think clearly. He would have to learn how to ignore those thoughts, like he had managed with Toliver for so long. "May I make a counter offer?" he asked carefully.
"Go ahead."
"I can't afford how long I've lived at that tavern," Soren admitted. "If you wouldn't mind payin' for that and addin' it to my debt, I'll agree to work for you."
The lord grinned and stuck his hand through the bars. "Deal."
Soren shook his hand, wishing he hadn't noticed how attractive the lord's grin was. Working for the man would be very difficult if he kept being so easily distracted. Soren pulled his hand away and Lord Tanden disappeared back down the hall. Soren could hear him speaking in Deoran, and within minutes one of the soldiers was unlocking his cell. He was roughly pulled from the cell and down the hallway. When they got within sight of Lord Tanden, the soldier released him. Soren followed Tanden from the jail, distracted enough that he almost walked into Lord Tanden when he abruptly stopped and turned around.
Soren took a step backwards. "Sorry, Captain."
"Do you have any belongings to pick up?"
Soren shook his head. Standing face to face, so close to one another, he realized he was slightly taller than Tanden. "No, Captain."
"Stop that," Lord Tanden said.
"Aye... sorry."
"Now, here – " Lord Tanden took a small pouch from his pocket and pulled out some coins. "We'll add this to your debt. Buy some new clothing for yourself, and report to the Wanderlust as quickly as possible. I'll stop by the tavern and pay off what you owe."
Soren nodded and took the coins. "I just want you to know, sir – Captain," he hesitated, fearing he might have already annoyed Lord Tanden. "Sorry. It's goin' to be hard for me to stop usin' the title, you bein' who you are'n all." He was aware of his language slipping a bit, as it sometimes did when he was nervous. "And considerin' what we did."
Lord Tanden smirked. "You said you didn't remember."
"I don't. But I know it happened, and I'm pretty sure I know what I did."
"Do you want me to tell you?"
Soren shook his head quickly. "No. No, please don't. I just want you to know that I'll be doin' my best to not annoy you with the captain thing. I'm just, I mean... It's really hard to concentrate when you look at me like that, sir."
"Sorry, mate, but I understand what you're trying to say," Lord Tanden said. His use of the word mate calmed Soren's nerves a bit. "Remember that I'm a man, just like anyone else. Being born a lord doesn't mean I want to be treated any differently, most of the time, anyway. I'm not Lord Tanden of West Draulin."
Soren nodded. "Captain Tanden of the WDN Wanderlust."
"Exactly. Now, go buy some things. I'll see to the tavern." He walked away. Soren looked down at the money in his hand. He could have taken it and run off, disappearing into the city and hiding until the Wanderlust sailed away. Instead, he made for what he knew was one of the cheaper tailors.
He bought new boots, a couple pairs of pants, and some new tunics. Before heading to the port, he slipped into an alley and changed into the new clothing. He left behind the old stuff and wrapped everything else into a bundle. As he walked towards the port, he ran his hand through his hair, doing his best to neaten it. He hadn't cared about his appearance since arriving in Deor-Morcea, but he wanted to make a good impression. Not only for Captain Tanden, but also for the rest of his crew.
Soren stopped before rounding the final corner that led to the port. His mind was finally starting to catch up with everything that had happened and he needed a moment to collect his thoughts. Would he have agreed to work for the lord if he hadn't been arrested? He didn't know. But he couldn't deny that he was excited about getting back on the water. For the first time in weeks, he was actually looking forward to something, going out and exploring. It was why he'd become a sailor in the first place. He wanted to see the world.
He took a deep breath and stepped around the corner. The Wanderlust, his new home, bobbed gently in the waves. He walked towards her as he had earlier, but with entirely different intentions. When he reached the ship's side he just stopped and stared at her in awe. She was bigger than the Hiraeth, with a larger crew. The salary would probably be better. And if the Crelan he'd spoken to before was to be believed, the Wanderlust would be sailing to new interesting places for Captain Tanden to explore. It was almost too perfect.
"Thank the Goddess," Soren said quietly.
"Thank Roe." Suddenly an arm dropped over Soren's shoulders. He almost stepped away until he realized it was the captain. He was grinning again as he gestured at the ship. "Welcome to the WDN Wanderlust. Isn't she beautiful? I'm sure you'll enjoy working for me. I hope you do, because at this rate it'll be a year before you've worked off your debt."
Soren allowed himself a small smile. "Aye. She's a beauty. I saw her the day you launched from West Draulin. My..." he faltered, "old captain said he'd kill to work on a ship like her."
"Tough luck for him, mate. I don't hire men who fire people for misunderstandings."
Soren glanced sideways at the captain. "What did I tell you?"
Tanden shrugged. "Just that. You said you misunderstood something. Come on, I'll give you the tour of my lady, shall I?" He strolled up the gangway, and after a moment Soren followed him.