Waffle, and When Someone Needs You
Feb. 25th, 2006 08:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pensnestMy sister has been staying here for a couple of days, as she had a training session in Stanstead yesterday. We had a chance to chat on Thursday when she got here - I was industriously painting my commissioned window (this went very nicely until the large area of purple paint began to thin in random spots - my attempt to disguise the situation by making it look purposefully textured did not help, so I'm going to have to strip that colour off) and we had a nice natter about brats and Sudoku.
She came to the Orpheus rehearsal with me. I'd expected she'd get to see a couple of acts (she won't be travelling up from Devon to see the show, so it would have been nice for her), but instead we spent the first ninety minutes on the walk-down, then did the finales of acts one, three and then two. No wonder she found it all rather confusing. It's just under a fortnight until we open, and frankly, I think we're over-rehearsed and could do with a night off.
Last night, we had a Quiz down at the playhouse. Quizzes are fun, even though I was on a team which knew we would have no chance of winning. This was certainly true - our average score per round: 4/10. Though we scored a magnificent 10/10 on our Joker round, which we correctly guessed was history. But overall, too much 'pop culture' for us! Never mind, 'twas fun. Only down side was that sister got home from her conference at 7.20pm, just as we were leaving the house.
She was up at 7 this morning (eek) so I staggered out of bed and prised my eyelids open to see her while she had breakfast. And she's gone, so I am posting.
"I can? I can go on deck?" Erryn had woken at dawn, stretched, sat up, and announced that he was hungry. He showed no signs of either seasickness, or the lingering effects of poppy syrup.
"Yes."
"Yay!"
"Wash first," Lancyn ordered sternly. "You'll want to look respectable when you meet the ship's captain." He went on deck, to a bright, clear morning with a brisk wind. They were travelling north now, at a much faster pace which, Bryn had assured him yesterday, ought to bring them to Beccanskey in good time.
Erryn emerged a few moments later, with sparkling eyes and a sunny smile, made his courtesies to Bryn and scampered happily off for breakfast in the care of an indulgent sailor.
"I wonder what the trouble is," Chris remarked quietly, nodding towards the ship's captain, who was staring at their boy with knit brows. Lancyn had no suggestions to offer, but Bryn shook himself and bounced to the upper deck to confer with the steersman, so it didn't seem to be of much moment.
Erryn was as eager as Lancyn to learn about the ship, and very quickly endeared himself to the crew. There might be nightmares ahead, but for the moment he seemed to have left his cares behind in Vallacarfel. It was good to see.
"Boy's a born sailor," commented Bryn. He seemed intrigued by Erryn. Several times during the day Lancyn noticed the captain watching as the boy moved around the ship. "He came from Vallacarfel, then?"
"That's where we found him," Lancyn replied, scrupulously exact.
"Hmm. He has family in the north, then?"
"Not that I know of. Ser Chrisfer does, however, and we're taking Erryn to live with them."
"He doesn't want to go back to his own home, then?" Bryn's tone was deliberately casual, and he was looking ahead, squinting towards the horizon, but Lancyn could not help but feel that there was more to his questions than idle conversation.
"His mother sold him to the man who ran a gang of thieves in Vallacarfel," he said bluntly. "I don't think Erryn felt very loved, at home."
"His mother... sold him. I see."
"You don't sound surprised."
"I've heard of it before."
"Does it happen often, then, in these parts?" Or was the Valla region filled with particularly heartless mothers? That was the worst thing about Elite work, Lancyn thought, discovering the cruelty in people.
"I doubt it," said Bryn. "I think..." He fell silent, and as one of the sailors chose that moment to approach with a query about fishing, the conversation seemed to be over.
* * *
"He's made himself quite at home," Lancyn said. He and Chrisfer were in the bow again, surveying the ship; Erryn was on the upper deck with the steersman, being allowed to take the wheel.
"I wish he wouldn't climb the mast," Chrisfer grumbled. Chrisfer had turned almost green, that afternoon, at the sight of the kid climbing to the mast-cup. But he had bitten his lip, taken himself to his chosen spot in the bow, stared out at the ocean and held on to the rail so hard his knuckles turned white. He hadn't relaxed until Lancyn informed him the kid was back down on deck.
"It's great up there. You feel like... I don't know, like the wind, or a bird, or something."
"Oh, really."
Best change the subject, Lancyn thought. "I didn't know you could swim." Chrisfer had been in the 'warm' water yesterday, encouraging his squire to swim. Apparently the movement of the waves didn't affect him when he was swimming in them.
"Since I was a child," Chrisfer said, absently. "There's a lake not far from home... Erryn will like it there. It freezes in the winter. We put on ice shoes and have races."
"Sounds like fun. You can teach both of us, when we get there."
Chrs brightened. "I can! Assuming I survive this voyage."
"You are better now, though?"
"Long as I stay on deck." He paused. "I might just be able to eat supper, I think. It smells quite... tempting." There was a scent of bacon on the air. The sun was almost at the horizon, and some of the crew were setting trestle tables and benches out by the mast. Lancyn was looking forward to the evening meal—it was hungry work, being at sea.
The night sailors began to assemble by the tables, ready to break their fast. As Col's tall form appeared up the steps, Bryn hurried over to him. There was an apparently urgent conversation, with much emphatic shaking of heads and waving of hands, then the pair of them turned towards the upper deck.
"Erryn!" Col bellowed. Every head on the ship turned towards him. "Little Bear?"
Up on the platform, the kid froze.
"Nicol? Nicky?" he yelled, voice high with astonishment, and Col held out his arms. Erryn flew down the steps and straight towards him like an arrow to the gold. As they wrapped themselves tight around one another, Lancyn and Chrisfer were already hurrying across the deck, but Bryn intercepted them.
"Give them a moment," he said, gently.
"What's going on?" This from Chrisfer.
Bryn grinned. "Brothers," he explained.
* * *
Beccanskey came too soon, now that it meant farewell. Erryn helped them to unload the horses, and submitted willingly enough to being hugged goodbye, but it was obvious that his heart was on the Shining Star with his big brother, and indeed, with his blond hair bound back in a seamanlike thong, and the rope-callouses forming on his hands, he already looked more sailor than landsman.
Col thanked them, again, before they left. Looking into his suntanned, smiling face, Lancyn could not but wonder how he and Chrisfer had missed seeing the resemblance for themselves. Bryn, of course, had the advantage, since he had known Nicol since 'Col' was little more than Erryn's age: Nicol had overheard his mother arranging to sell him, and run away to sea. There was more to that story, Lancyn was sure, but he doubted Col would ever tell the details.
So, there they were, Ser Chrisfer and his squire, and Horse and Brown, and a spare horse to carry their packs now instead of the boy, on the road west from Beccanskey as the sun slipped behind the trees and the air chilled rapidly. There was a small wayside inn some dozen miles ahead, and Chris had expressed an earnest desire to sleep in a proper bed tonight. For the moment, though, he was unusually subdued.
"He'll do well, you know," Lancyn said gently.
"Yes, but he's at sea! It's dangerous! Just because we had a simple voyage with no storms—sailors can drown, you know."
"There's danger everywhere. And he's happy."
"He'd have been happy with my family. He's just a child."
"Chris. You can't make Erryn's choice for him. If we'd taken a different ship, if we'd never found his brother, then yes, he would have been happy with your family, of course he would. But you saw how they were together. You can't grudge him that. Either of them."
"I suppose. I just..."
"You want the people you love to be part of your family." Chris glowered a bit, but didn't deny it, so Lancyn made his own confession. "I, mm, wanted to do the same. I thought we could recommend him for Tower training, so that. When I." He couldn't quite manage to say 'when I leave you', Lancyn found. "Anyway, it's not to be. Instead, we have a ship's captain we can ask for any favour we need, ever." Bryn had been almost as transported as Nicol, whom he seemed to regard as his own little brother.
Chris shuddered. "Let's hope it never comes to that," he said. They rode on in silence for a few minutes. "It was a good thought, Tower training."
"Brave kid. And you'll need someone to keep an eye on you, when I'm, um, on my own." It was such an uncomfortable thought, questing alone.
"He'll be all right, won't he?"
Lancyn snorted. "In a few years' time he'll probably have his own ship!" he predicted. "Meanwhile, I still want to learn to walk on frozen water."
"I'll get Emmy to help teach you," Chrisfer promised. "She's a good girl. She gets a bit overwhelmed when everyone's there, but when she's on her own she—"
"Chrisfer," Lancyn interrupted. "You remember what I said about not making Erryn's choice for him?" Chris looked guilty. "Same applies to me."
"Of course it—"
"And to your sister."
"Oh, shut up!" Chrisfer's ears were red, and not just from the gleams of sunset.
His squire smirked at him, but decided to be merciful. "What say we shake up these lazy animals for a mile or two?"
Horse was already accelerating. "Last one to the inn sleeps on the floor!"
That's all, folks!
She came to the Orpheus rehearsal with me. I'd expected she'd get to see a couple of acts (she won't be travelling up from Devon to see the show, so it would have been nice for her), but instead we spent the first ninety minutes on the walk-down, then did the finales of acts one, three and then two. No wonder she found it all rather confusing. It's just under a fortnight until we open, and frankly, I think we're over-rehearsed and could do with a night off.
Last night, we had a Quiz down at the playhouse. Quizzes are fun, even though I was on a team which knew we would have no chance of winning. This was certainly true - our average score per round: 4/10. Though we scored a magnificent 10/10 on our Joker round, which we correctly guessed was history. But overall, too much 'pop culture' for us! Never mind, 'twas fun. Only down side was that sister got home from her conference at 7.20pm, just as we were leaving the house.
She was up at 7 this morning (eek) so I staggered out of bed and prised my eyelids open to see her while she had breakfast. And she's gone, so I am posting.
"I can? I can go on deck?" Erryn had woken at dawn, stretched, sat up, and announced that he was hungry. He showed no signs of either seasickness, or the lingering effects of poppy syrup.
"Yes."
"Yay!"
"Wash first," Lancyn ordered sternly. "You'll want to look respectable when you meet the ship's captain." He went on deck, to a bright, clear morning with a brisk wind. They were travelling north now, at a much faster pace which, Bryn had assured him yesterday, ought to bring them to Beccanskey in good time.
Erryn emerged a few moments later, with sparkling eyes and a sunny smile, made his courtesies to Bryn and scampered happily off for breakfast in the care of an indulgent sailor.
"I wonder what the trouble is," Chris remarked quietly, nodding towards the ship's captain, who was staring at their boy with knit brows. Lancyn had no suggestions to offer, but Bryn shook himself and bounced to the upper deck to confer with the steersman, so it didn't seem to be of much moment.
Erryn was as eager as Lancyn to learn about the ship, and very quickly endeared himself to the crew. There might be nightmares ahead, but for the moment he seemed to have left his cares behind in Vallacarfel. It was good to see.
"Boy's a born sailor," commented Bryn. He seemed intrigued by Erryn. Several times during the day Lancyn noticed the captain watching as the boy moved around the ship. "He came from Vallacarfel, then?"
"That's where we found him," Lancyn replied, scrupulously exact.
"Hmm. He has family in the north, then?"
"Not that I know of. Ser Chrisfer does, however, and we're taking Erryn to live with them."
"He doesn't want to go back to his own home, then?" Bryn's tone was deliberately casual, and he was looking ahead, squinting towards the horizon, but Lancyn could not help but feel that there was more to his questions than idle conversation.
"His mother sold him to the man who ran a gang of thieves in Vallacarfel," he said bluntly. "I don't think Erryn felt very loved, at home."
"His mother... sold him. I see."
"You don't sound surprised."
"I've heard of it before."
"Does it happen often, then, in these parts?" Or was the Valla region filled with particularly heartless mothers? That was the worst thing about Elite work, Lancyn thought, discovering the cruelty in people.
"I doubt it," said Bryn. "I think..." He fell silent, and as one of the sailors chose that moment to approach with a query about fishing, the conversation seemed to be over.
* * *
"He's made himself quite at home," Lancyn said. He and Chrisfer were in the bow again, surveying the ship; Erryn was on the upper deck with the steersman, being allowed to take the wheel.
"I wish he wouldn't climb the mast," Chrisfer grumbled. Chrisfer had turned almost green, that afternoon, at the sight of the kid climbing to the mast-cup. But he had bitten his lip, taken himself to his chosen spot in the bow, stared out at the ocean and held on to the rail so hard his knuckles turned white. He hadn't relaxed until Lancyn informed him the kid was back down on deck.
"It's great up there. You feel like... I don't know, like the wind, or a bird, or something."
"Oh, really."
Best change the subject, Lancyn thought. "I didn't know you could swim." Chrisfer had been in the 'warm' water yesterday, encouraging his squire to swim. Apparently the movement of the waves didn't affect him when he was swimming in them.
"Since I was a child," Chrisfer said, absently. "There's a lake not far from home... Erryn will like it there. It freezes in the winter. We put on ice shoes and have races."
"Sounds like fun. You can teach both of us, when we get there."
Chrs brightened. "I can! Assuming I survive this voyage."
"You are better now, though?"
"Long as I stay on deck." He paused. "I might just be able to eat supper, I think. It smells quite... tempting." There was a scent of bacon on the air. The sun was almost at the horizon, and some of the crew were setting trestle tables and benches out by the mast. Lancyn was looking forward to the evening meal—it was hungry work, being at sea.
The night sailors began to assemble by the tables, ready to break their fast. As Col's tall form appeared up the steps, Bryn hurried over to him. There was an apparently urgent conversation, with much emphatic shaking of heads and waving of hands, then the pair of them turned towards the upper deck.
"Erryn!" Col bellowed. Every head on the ship turned towards him. "Little Bear?"
Up on the platform, the kid froze.
"Nicol? Nicky?" he yelled, voice high with astonishment, and Col held out his arms. Erryn flew down the steps and straight towards him like an arrow to the gold. As they wrapped themselves tight around one another, Lancyn and Chrisfer were already hurrying across the deck, but Bryn intercepted them.
"Give them a moment," he said, gently.
"What's going on?" This from Chrisfer.
Bryn grinned. "Brothers," he explained.
* * *
Beccanskey came too soon, now that it meant farewell. Erryn helped them to unload the horses, and submitted willingly enough to being hugged goodbye, but it was obvious that his heart was on the Shining Star with his big brother, and indeed, with his blond hair bound back in a seamanlike thong, and the rope-callouses forming on his hands, he already looked more sailor than landsman.
Col thanked them, again, before they left. Looking into his suntanned, smiling face, Lancyn could not but wonder how he and Chrisfer had missed seeing the resemblance for themselves. Bryn, of course, had the advantage, since he had known Nicol since 'Col' was little more than Erryn's age: Nicol had overheard his mother arranging to sell him, and run away to sea. There was more to that story, Lancyn was sure, but he doubted Col would ever tell the details.
So, there they were, Ser Chrisfer and his squire, and Horse and Brown, and a spare horse to carry their packs now instead of the boy, on the road west from Beccanskey as the sun slipped behind the trees and the air chilled rapidly. There was a small wayside inn some dozen miles ahead, and Chris had expressed an earnest desire to sleep in a proper bed tonight. For the moment, though, he was unusually subdued.
"He'll do well, you know," Lancyn said gently.
"Yes, but he's at sea! It's dangerous! Just because we had a simple voyage with no storms—sailors can drown, you know."
"There's danger everywhere. And he's happy."
"He'd have been happy with my family. He's just a child."
"Chris. You can't make Erryn's choice for him. If we'd taken a different ship, if we'd never found his brother, then yes, he would have been happy with your family, of course he would. But you saw how they were together. You can't grudge him that. Either of them."
"I suppose. I just..."
"You want the people you love to be part of your family." Chris glowered a bit, but didn't deny it, so Lancyn made his own confession. "I, mm, wanted to do the same. I thought we could recommend him for Tower training, so that. When I." He couldn't quite manage to say 'when I leave you', Lancyn found. "Anyway, it's not to be. Instead, we have a ship's captain we can ask for any favour we need, ever." Bryn had been almost as transported as Nicol, whom he seemed to regard as his own little brother.
Chris shuddered. "Let's hope it never comes to that," he said. They rode on in silence for a few minutes. "It was a good thought, Tower training."
"Brave kid. And you'll need someone to keep an eye on you, when I'm, um, on my own." It was such an uncomfortable thought, questing alone.
"He'll be all right, won't he?"
Lancyn snorted. "In a few years' time he'll probably have his own ship!" he predicted. "Meanwhile, I still want to learn to walk on frozen water."
"I'll get Emmy to help teach you," Chrisfer promised. "She's a good girl. She gets a bit overwhelmed when everyone's there, but when she's on her own she—"
"Chrisfer," Lancyn interrupted. "You remember what I said about not making Erryn's choice for him?" Chris looked guilty. "Same applies to me."
"Of course it—"
"And to your sister."
"Oh, shut up!" Chrisfer's ears were red, and not just from the gleams of sunset.
His squire smirked at him, but decided to be merciful. "What say we shake up these lazy animals for a mile or two?"
Horse was already accelerating. "Last one to the inn sleeps on the floor!"
That's all, folks!
