Wanderlust - Chapter 5: Chapter 5

A little over a week later, they sailed out of Deor-Morcea. The crew had taken Soren's addition pretty well, especially the other Crelans. Tanden had kept a close eye on him anyway, trying to judge what kind of person he was. He'd been compliant and eager when drunk, then shy and a little stubborn the next day. Tanden wanted to know what kind of employee he'd be when he wasn't confused and embarrassed.
So far Tanden hadn't been disappointed. After an awkward first day where Soren had been trying to find his place, he'd worked tirelessly with the other sailors. He helped take in their new cargo, and he'd smoothly joined in while they launched from the pier. Tanden stood at the helm until they were clear of the harbour, shouting out the occasional order. Once they were safely out on open water, he stepped away from the helm to lean over the main deck.
"Soren!"
The young man had been standing with another Crelan, a hardworking man named Roan, and he flinched when he heard his name. "Aye, Captain?"
"Get up here." Tanden stepped back and rested an arm on the helm to keep it steady. He was pleased when Soren quickly appeared beside him. He followed orders well.
"Aye?"
"Take this." Tanden let go of the helm and Soren stepped into his place. Tanden leaned against the bulwark and watched him carefully. "You've helmed before?"
"Couple times."
"What were you?" Tanden asked. "First mate?"
Soren shook his head. "No. I didn't have any special authority, but the captain liked me. Reckon I might've been considered second mate, if anyone could've been given that title."
Tanden nodded slowly. "Ever thought about being first mate?" He grinned when Soren's eyes widened. "Calm down, mate. I don't mean right this instant."
Soren glanced over at him. "Is this because of what —"
"No. My first mate quit because his wife was having a baby, I'm just thinking about my options, is all. And as a member of my crew you're now an option."
"Oh, I... reckon I'd be honoured, Captain, but I don't deserve it."
"Not yet," Tanden agreed. "I'd probably have a mutiny on my hands if I gave the job to a brand-new sailor. So, tell me about yourself. You said you saw us launch in West Draulin? How old were you?"
"Fourteen."
Tanden quickly did the math. "Twenty, then."
"Aye."
"And you were on the same ship that whole time?"
Soren nodded. "Aye, but I'd worked on ships before that. Some fishing boats as a lad, and a navy ship for a bit with my father."
"Were you born in West Draulin?"
"Aye."
"Interesting. Most Crelans born in West Draulin don't have the full tattoos," Tanden said. He wondered idly if Soren was the type of sailor who would strip off his tunic on hot days. His body had been pretty tanned. "I really don't get the big deal." He realized what he had said and how it could be interpreted a second later. "Not the tattoos, I understand the importance of tradition. I mean I don't understand why other Teltans dislike them." Tanden shrugged. "Oh well, racism is strange, isn't it?"
"Reckon so."
"Reckon so," Tanden repeated thoughtfully.
"I mean... I agree?" Soren sounded tentative.
Tanden shook his head. "No, I understand the Crelan dialect. You just don't always use it. I've noticed that's pretty common in Crelans born in West Draulin. You tend to switch back and forth. It's interesting."
Soren nodded. "Depends on who we're talking to, usually."
"I can tell. You're more articulate when you're talking to me, compared to when I've heard you talking to the other Crelans. I love languages," Tanden explained. He'd questioned Soren enough for the time being and felt like he should share some information about himself. "The way they can change from city to city, or the way you can consciously put your accent on or drop it. It's fascinating."
He also loved how using another person's language could change the way they acted towards him. He'd noticed over the years that tossing a Crelan word into his speech every once in a while had made the Crelans on his crew feel more comfortable around him. He'd noticed the same reaction from Soren.
After a moment Soren cleared his throat. "Where am I supposed to be steering us, Captain?"
"Southeast. We're heading for Valmuss. Have you ever been there?"
Soren shook his head. "Mora's the furthest from West Draulin I've ever been."
Tanden grinned. "I hope you're the type who likes adventures, mate. I don't intend to head back to West Draulin any time soon."
The young man nodded tentatively. "Aye, an adventure sounds good."
"Good," Tanden said. He could tell already that Soren would make an excellent member of the crew. There was no doubt in his mind.
Later that evening, Tanden was in his quarters leaning over his desk. He had a map spread out on his left, covered in markings, and an open ledger on his right. Part of him would always hate keeping track of cargo and having to trade, but he needed to make money somehow if he wanted to manage repairs, stock the ship with food and water, and pay his sailors. In the early years he'd managed most of his monetary needs through the West Draulin money he was entitled to, but he'd gradually become more self-sufficient. The Wanderlust had to provide for herself, especially as he tried to sail further from West Draulin and Zianna.
He was startled by a knock on the door and ignored it at first to make another mark on his map, but then there was a second knock. He sighed and put down the piece of charcoal he'd been using to write. "It isn't locked!"
His annoyance dissipated instantly when the door swung open to reveal Soren holding a bowl and metal cup. Tanden grinned. "Come in, mate. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"One of the others mentioned that you hadn't eaten." Soren stepped into the room hesitantly. "I thought I'd bring you something."
"Much obliged." Tanden cleared a spot on the desk so that Soren could put the bowl and cup down. He watched Soren step back and cross his arms. His gaze flickered to something behind Tanden for a split second.
"Is there anything else you need?" Soren asked. He dropped his gaze to the desk.
Tanden picked up the bowl and stirred his spoon in the hot stew. "Do you want to talk about Deor-Morcea?" he asked casually.
Soren winced. "I... don't think so, Captain."
"So you want to pretend it didn't happen?" Tanden scooped up some of the stew, blew on it, and ate it.
"Reckon that would be best," Soren said, with what he probably thought was a firm nod. "Don't want special treatment or anythin', right, and... probably best we be professional, aye?"
Tanden nodded slowly, wondering if Soren noticed that his accent came through more when he was uncomfortable. "So you want to pretend I found you in that jail and just offered you a job without having spoken to you?"
"Don't need to pretend anythin', sir. We could just... forget about that first night. It'll be easier to work for you, that way. Ignorin' what happened."
"Why?"
"Why?" Soren repeated. "Because if we don't ignore it, what's to stop—"
"Self-control, mate," Tanden interrupted. "I'm not going to order you into my bed. And even if I tried..." he paused to swallow another mouthful of stew. "I'm pretty confident that you could physically overpower me."
Soren shook his head. "I'd never attack my captain."
"Is that what's worrying you? That I'll order you to do something and you'll go along because I'm your captain? Or are you worried that you'll go along because you want to?"
Soren sharply raised his head. "Just don't want anyone thinkin' I'm here 'cause you want me for yourself. I'm a good sailor."
"Ah." Tanden nodded, suddenly understanding. "You want recognition for your work. I know the feeling, that's why I insist on the crew not calling me Lord. Don't worry, none of the crew know anything about how we met and I don't tend to share details about my nights on shore. I hired you because you're a Crelan and you were fired unfairly. I didn't hire you because you were good in bed."
His words seemed to calm Soren down a bit. "Was I?"
"I thought you didn't want to know about what happened," Tanden teased gently.
Soren looked uncomfortable again. "Aye, not details, but..."
"You were excellent."
Soren didn't know what to make of Captain Tanden. It was true that he didn't act like a lord while on the ship. Sometimes he hardly even acted like a captain. He would leave the helm to one of the other men and work with his crew, hauling in lines or climbing up the rigging. It was clear that he loved every aspect of being out on the sea.
His crew loved him. They said that he paid well and was always generous with time off. As a West Draulin Navy ship there were certain rules that were supposed to be met, but as a Tandran Tanden could tweak them however he wanted, and he did so to the benefit of the crew. Soren could see why these men were willing to follow Captain Tanden on whatever adventure he had planned.
They docked in Valmuss about two weeks after leaving Deor-Morcea. Soren knew there was something special about Valmuss. As the last Deoran city along the coast, it was important and there was some sort of ritual associated with it. He had never imagined visiting the place itself.
Tanden was ecstatic. It was hard not to get caught up in his excitement as he hurried around the deck, making sure the ship was moored properly. He disappeared for a bit to pay the harbourmaster, and returned looking even more delighted.
"Gentlemen!" He didn't climb up to the quarter deck to address them, but hopped up onto the bulwark and lightly gripped the closest line to keep himself steady. His jacket was open and flapped in the gentle wind. "Welcome to Valmuss! As some of you are aware, Valmuss is one of the most important stops along our trip." Tanden paused to point off to his right. "The other end of this port is part of Falmuss, the first Morcean city we'll be visiting. But you can't just sail over to Falmuss. There's a bridge connecting these two cities, a bridge I've got to cross on foot to get the proper blessing for our Lady Wanderlust. But, I want everyone to have a chance to explore these cities. So tonight, half of you will take leave while we sit in Valmuss. Tomorrow when you return, we'll sail her over to the Falmuss side and the second half of you will take your leave. How does that sound, lads?"
The entire crew cheered and Soren joined in. Getting time off so soon after Deor-Morcea was incredible. After a moment the cheering died down and Tanden hopped onto the deck. Soren slipped through the crowd of sailors to speak to him.
"Captain, which half am I part of?"
Tanden grinned. "Soren, mate, you are so deep in debt. You're not getting normal leave. You're coming with me." He abruptly turned and headed for the gangway.
Stunned, it took Soren a moment to catch up with him. "I don't get leave?"
"I'm not paying you," Tanden pointed out matter-of-factly. "So what are you doing to do? You can't pay for food, or ale, or a brothel."
"Well, aye... But I could walk around. Explore."
"You will be exploring, you'll just be doing it with me," Tanden said.
"Right now?"
Tanden paused. "Is there something you need to bring?"
Soren glanced back towards the ship and shrugged. "Reckon not."
"Reckon not," Tanden repeated with a smirk. "Excellent. Come on. There's a temple I want to see."
Soren trailed after Tanden as he walked through the city like someone who had grown up there. Either he was really good at pretending he knew where he was going, or he'd memorized a map. Soren felt thoroughly lost when the road they were following suddenly opened into a wide courtyard. Sitting in the middle was a huge temple. It was made of light brown stone, but covered in so many little carved images that it looked anything but plain. Many of the carvings were painted or decorated with bits of coloured stone.
"It's beautiful," Soren said.
"It is," Tanden agreed. There was none of his usual confidence or cockiness in his voice, just awe. "The carvings tell the story of the founding of Deorun. Do you know the story?" He didn't wait for Soren to answer, but started telling it. Soren tried to follow along with the pictures. "The Zians, Deorans and Navirians have three main gods. Thousands of years ago, the three gods each picked a human to bless, and they became the first kings of Deoran and Zianna, and the first queen of Navire. Each kingdom is named after their patron deity. Deorun's is Roe, called Deor in their language."
"What about Zianna and Navire?"
"Zianna is named for Zianesa, the earth goddess, and Navire is named for Kitsa, the air goddess. They call her Virie."
Soren glanced at Tanden, who hadn't looked away from the temple. "You've done a lot of research."
"I love it," Tanden agreed, and Soren felt like for once he was hearing Tanden talk freely, without overthinking every word. "There are so many different cultures in the world, with different histories and different languages and traditions. I want to see it all."
"The whole world?"
"As much of it as I can manage." Tanden shot him a grin, back to himself suddenly. "Ready to go inside?"
Soren nodded and followed Tanden across the courtyard and up the steps to a large porch. Thick columns held up the ceiling. Soren felt like he was following Tanden through a stone forest. When they reached the open doorway, they were stopped when a pair of guards stepped in front of them. Soren was impressed when Tanden began to speak to them in Deoran. He knew the captain was fluent in Deoran and Navirian, some of the other sailors had told him. But hearing the language in Tanden's voice was entirely different.
After a moment, Tanden glanced over his shoulder. "Do you have any weapons?"
Soren shook his head. He would have liked something, but he had left his old cutlass aboard the Hiraeth and Tanden hadn't given him a new one.
Tanden said a quick word to the guards and they stepped out of the way. He continued through the doorway, waving at Soren to follow him. "Weapons aren't allowed in here," he explained. "And we're supposed to be—"
His jaw dropped and his eyes widened.
Soren turned his attention to the huge room they'd entered. The stone floor was polished to a reflective shine and high above them was a colourful vaulted ceiling. The walls were decorated even more richly than the temple's exterior had been, with large paintings and intricate carvings decorated with gems. Spaced out along the walls were alcoves containing life sized statues of what Soren assumed were the many Native gods and goddesses. Each statue was wearing real clothing and had a small golden bowl in front of them which was filled with coins. Many of them had other offerings placed near the bowl, little figurines or jewellery.
At the far end of the temple, past all the benches, was an enormous statue that Soren instantly recognized. It was Roe, so tall that it was hard to make out his face. He was made of bronze and wore a blue cloth wrapped around his waist. In his right hand he held what must have been the longest spear in the world, a piece of wood that was so thick it would make a good mast. He was standing in a shallow pool, the floor of which was a massive painting of the ocean represented by blue swirls that looked surprising similar to Soren's tattoo. Fish statues circled the display. On the wall behind Roe, real pieces of ships had been hung. There were entire jib sails, many helms, broken bits of anchors, rope and wooden planks.
Soren probably would have stayed frozen in the spot indefinitely, staring up at the statue, if Tanden hadn't taken his arm and tugged him across the temple to get closer.
"Did you know," Tanden spoke up quietly, "That your Old God of the Sea and Roe aren't exactly the same? You've adopted a lot of traditions into your culture that are from Roe. Pouring wine into the ocean, for example. Seems pretty Crelan now, but it wasn't always."
Soren nodded. He hadn't known that specific detail, but he had always known that ancient Crelans worshipped the Old God of the Sea, who was at the time different than the Native ocean god.
"It's fascinating, isn't it? The Dyad," Tanden continued. "Historically that didn't exist. The only reason anyone believes it is because we mingled—Teltans, Crelans and Zians. You've taken two fundamentally different religions and put them together to create something new, something that doesn't even match what Crelans used to believe."
"We still believe in the Old God of the Sea. We just call him Roe," Soren said.
"They're not the same god. They're described very differently in old texts."
"How do you know they weren't the same god? Maybe because we just worshipped him differently, he acted differently."
To Soren's delight, that actually stumped Tanden for a moment. When the captain finally spoke, it was only to say, "An interesting theory... Come on." He grabbed Soren's forearm again and led him to the statue on the right. It was a woman, not as large as Roe, but much bigger than life size. She was also made of bronze, and wore a white dress decorated with feathers. The wall behind her was painted blue, lightening to white on the floor, and darkening to nearly black on the ceiling. Stone figures of birds and people with wings were suspended from the ceiling to hang around her.
"Kitsa?" Soren guessed.
Tanden nodded. "Roe's sister. Although I suppose the Dyad doesn't leave room for his sisters."
Soren shrugged. "Just because we don't worship them doesn't mean they don't exist, right?"
Tanden grinned. "That's the spirit, mate." Without warning he led Soren across the temple to the other side of Roe, where another statue as large as Kitsa stood. She too was bronze, with a green dress and what looked like a wooden crown. Unlike the other two statues, the floor at her feet wasn't painted. It was a flower garden, the plants trimmed and molded so that some of them reached the goddess' fingers. Statues of animals hid amidst the plants. The wall behind her was a mural of a forest painted on large planks of wood.
"Zianesa," Tanden said. "Goddess of the earth and life. And our patron." He said something in Deoran. Or it sounded like Deoran.
"Was that old Ziannan?" Soren asked.
Tanden chuckled quietly. "No one can speak old Ziannan. That was my best guess, a mixture of Deoran and Navirian. The languages are so similar that if you're fluent in one you can understand the other, if not speak it."
"You can speak them both, though."
"Fluently, yes."
"How?" Soren asked.
"How? I don't know, it was easy," Tanden said with a shrug. "I have an unusual talent for languages, it seems." He was still staring at the statue, answering Soren's questions a little distractedly. Soren decided to press for more. He liked this version of Tanden, one that was so in awe of his surroundings that he wasn't putting on an act.
"What do the Natives think about men who – " he paused to alter his word choice at the last second. There were things that weren't appropriate for temples. " – choose men?"
"They don't care," Tanden replied easily, without having to think about it. "They believe that Lovi, their love goddess, brings together whoever she sees fit. If both people happen to be men, then that's what Lovi decided was right. They don't argue with her."
It was nice to know that somewhere there was a deity who wouldn't condemn him. First for his feelings towards Toliver, then the night with Tanden. Soren tried to shake away the thoughts. Just because a Native goddess said it was all right, didn't mean it had to happen.
"Do you think there's any truth to them?" Soren looked back towards Roe. It was hard to imagine that people would build such beautiful statues for something that wasn't real.
"Everybody believes something," Tanden said. "Every culture. Whether they're monotheistic like Teltans, or polytheistic like the Natives. I was raised to believe in the Goddess, you in the Dyad, and the Natives in a whole host of gods and goddesses. What makes my people right? Or yours? Or theirs? Maybe everyone's right."
"How can everyone be right?"
Tanden shrugged. "I'm still puzzling that out, mate. But I like the idea."
And although he wasn't about to say it out loud, Soren sort of liked the idea as well.