The trip back was monotonous and slow. The morning breeze fell off and the unrelenting sun baked the day toasty warm causing Maranda to erect a makeshift cover to protect them from the searing rays. Aunt Dora and the girl chatted some and sang a tune or two, but for the most part everyone rode in silence.
The nearer they got to Kings Court however, the more Dora hummed and shooked her head. Still a good half mark out from the city, the woman stopped and turned around towards the two newly joined.
"Doesn't look good ta me," she said softly. "Don't know just what's been up, but I fear the worst. Closer we get ta Kings Court, the more signs I see of lots a traffic having been through here. You two keep yer eyes open fer trouble. I've a bad feelin in me bones." The blonde nodded, sat up and starting looking around her while trying to comfort Dorian as much as he could be comforted.
Looking at the grounds around them, it looked as if a stampede of something had come through here recently, tearing up grass and ground, breaking limbs from bushes and small trees. In fact everwhere they looked there was some level of destruction. It wasn't going away as they drew near Kings Court.
Finally, the walls of the city came into view in the distance. Still a good quarter mark or so away, it was too far to make out much detail, but it seemed there was a great deal more smoke rising from the city than was normal.
Several guardsman in the city colors flagged Dora down, "Sorry ta delay ya ma'am, but there's orcs loose round here. Ya need ta be vera cautious and if ya see anythin' don't stop fer it, just make way as quick as ya can ta the city. Gates is closed but I dun think tha orc'll follow ya that far in. We routed em pretty good, puttin' the fear o' Dominicus inta em." He spoke proudly, standing up tall chest almost puffed out as Dora nodded at him.
"We've been ta see the girl's uncle in the country past four days. I take it there's been trouble while we were away?" the cook frowned as she asked the guard.
"Aye ma'am, ya could say that. Still pockets of the foul green scum scurrying about. Be careful and make haste ta the gates. Inside the city... well, ye'll see fer yerself, but tis still safer than out here," he shook his head and waved them on.
The closer they got to the city, the thicker the smoke rising into the noon sky and a distinct stench began to announce itself to their noses.
A Fisherman's Tale: Dorian Drake Chapter 5 - Samheen 3
Moderator: Mods
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Guest
As they approached the city gates, soldiers were still in the process of cleaning up after what must have been a fierce battle as the men drug large green carcasses of orc off to be burned. Others worked repairing the walls that looked as if huge boulders had been thrown at them. None of the walls were completely down, but in places the damage was extensive. Conspicuously, city guardsmen manned the walls keeping watch over the surrounding grounds ready to sound the alarm of impending danger if necessary.
The stench of orc and death increased as they drew nigh the city, growing less strong as they approached the gates. The wind was blowing away from the city and carried only the scent of burnt wood, any dead bodies already gathered up and disposed of. As they neared, the gates swung open and nervous guardsmen hurried them through, eyes alert to any movement in the fields.
"Ye'll not find us a pleasant place ta visit, travelers. However, better than no protection out th..." the guard began, an older man with silvery hair and a well lined face.
"Dora?" he stopped and looked again. "I thought ya'd be dead! Where have ya been? When did ya leave? Tis a happy day," he broke into a sad smile as the gates closed behind them.
Shaking her head, the cook looked about, "Looks like we picked a good time ta be gone, Thamus. Maranda's mother went over few days ago and we went back ta her home for a memorial and ta get her uncle's permission ta marry." Kneeling behind Dora, Maranda smiled wanly at the man who nodded.
"S'been an excellent time ta be gone, Mizz Dora. Orc attacked the city, held it hostage for a full day, sending fireballs in and boulders ta try and take the walls. They failed, but caused a lotta damage." He looked down shaking his head and sighed.
"Laughin' King was one of the first ta go. Fireball. T'was horrible. Lost many a good man... and woman in the fire. In the confusion of the attack, t'was no one ta help put it out..." he looked up at Dora, misery written on his face.
"Burnt ta the ground Dora. Few made it out alive, most... didn't," he said softly and the cook choked out a tearful reply.
"Grant? Marsha? Renbould?" she whispered as the tears ran down her face, Maranda hugging her from behind crying herself.
"Grant wasna there when it hit though no one's seen him since. The others..." he trailed off shaking his head.
"Stable keeper and his staff made it out with just some burns as they took the horses out, but none a the staff that was on duty made it. T'was a direct hit," he sighed. "Sorry ta be the one ta bear such bad news, Dora. But wanted ya ta hear it afore you go and find nothin' but ashes. Ya have family here... but we don't know yet who all's... missin'. If ya have no place ta go, ya know yer welcome at our house. The missus'ud love the company."
Dora nodded, "Thank ya Thamus, I appreciate the offer. I'll keep it in mind if I need it," she nodded at the guardsman and prodded the horse forward headed toward's the lake and Dorian's house.
Throughout the city there were burnt patches, buildings that were partly or completely burnt and bedraggled citizens working to set things aright, many of them with eyes glazed in a sort of shock.
Closer to the lake, things were not in as much disarray. Apparently, the burning had not reached this far into the city and in fact as the got near that edge of town, one could hardly tell there had been a confrontation at all. The taint and destruction of war was missing here though the empty eyed look prevailed here as well.
Pulling up in front of Dorian's house, Dora climbed down and stretched. Maranda slipped out and waited on Dorian to help him if he needed. Both women were quiet. Way down the shore the main commerical docks seemed busier than ever. A brisk breeze blew in off the lake as if sent to blow the stench of death away.
The stench of orc and death increased as they drew nigh the city, growing less strong as they approached the gates. The wind was blowing away from the city and carried only the scent of burnt wood, any dead bodies already gathered up and disposed of. As they neared, the gates swung open and nervous guardsmen hurried them through, eyes alert to any movement in the fields.
"Ye'll not find us a pleasant place ta visit, travelers. However, better than no protection out th..." the guard began, an older man with silvery hair and a well lined face.
"Dora?" he stopped and looked again. "I thought ya'd be dead! Where have ya been? When did ya leave? Tis a happy day," he broke into a sad smile as the gates closed behind them.
Shaking her head, the cook looked about, "Looks like we picked a good time ta be gone, Thamus. Maranda's mother went over few days ago and we went back ta her home for a memorial and ta get her uncle's permission ta marry." Kneeling behind Dora, Maranda smiled wanly at the man who nodded.
"S'been an excellent time ta be gone, Mizz Dora. Orc attacked the city, held it hostage for a full day, sending fireballs in and boulders ta try and take the walls. They failed, but caused a lotta damage." He looked down shaking his head and sighed.
"Laughin' King was one of the first ta go. Fireball. T'was horrible. Lost many a good man... and woman in the fire. In the confusion of the attack, t'was no one ta help put it out..." he looked up at Dora, misery written on his face.
"Burnt ta the ground Dora. Few made it out alive, most... didn't," he said softly and the cook choked out a tearful reply.
"Grant? Marsha? Renbould?" she whispered as the tears ran down her face, Maranda hugging her from behind crying herself.
"Grant wasna there when it hit though no one's seen him since. The others..." he trailed off shaking his head.
"Stable keeper and his staff made it out with just some burns as they took the horses out, but none a the staff that was on duty made it. T'was a direct hit," he sighed. "Sorry ta be the one ta bear such bad news, Dora. But wanted ya ta hear it afore you go and find nothin' but ashes. Ya have family here... but we don't know yet who all's... missin'. If ya have no place ta go, ya know yer welcome at our house. The missus'ud love the company."
Dora nodded, "Thank ya Thamus, I appreciate the offer. I'll keep it in mind if I need it," she nodded at the guardsman and prodded the horse forward headed toward's the lake and Dorian's house.
Throughout the city there were burnt patches, buildings that were partly or completely burnt and bedraggled citizens working to set things aright, many of them with eyes glazed in a sort of shock.
Closer to the lake, things were not in as much disarray. Apparently, the burning had not reached this far into the city and in fact as the got near that edge of town, one could hardly tell there had been a confrontation at all. The taint and destruction of war was missing here though the empty eyed look prevailed here as well.
Pulling up in front of Dorian's house, Dora climbed down and stretched. Maranda slipped out and waited on Dorian to help him if he needed. Both women were quiet. Way down the shore the main commerical docks seemed busier than ever. A brisk breeze blew in off the lake as if sent to blow the stench of death away.
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Dorian Drake left off feeling miserable when he got the swaying deck under his feet again. He'd been about to jump into the lake, and enjoy himself, but there were other considerations now. He looked over at Dora and Maranda.
"All right," he said, calmly, for a Drake didn't shirk responsibility. "I'll help unload the heavy things, and you can take care of this - " he handed over the bucket with the blanket and money in the bottom to his wife. "If I hang up my nets from two stout hooks it will make a rope hammock, and you and Aunt Dora can have the mattress. Things will be a bit tight, Cat will have to fit in where she can, when she comes back." He opened up the shack, gaff in hand to evict anyone taking up residence - and then began setting things inside the sparse, practically unfurnished dwelling.
"When you're no longer needing me to carry, I'll go fetch my boat, cos the man who's watching it will have some stout hooks I bet, and then I'll go cut us some mussels and seaweed for dinner."
He looked around the docks, practical-minded and unconcerned with current events - things happened, you had to learn to go with it - and hoped his mussel patch was still there to harvest.
"All right," he said, calmly, for a Drake didn't shirk responsibility. "I'll help unload the heavy things, and you can take care of this - " he handed over the bucket with the blanket and money in the bottom to his wife. "If I hang up my nets from two stout hooks it will make a rope hammock, and you and Aunt Dora can have the mattress. Things will be a bit tight, Cat will have to fit in where she can, when she comes back." He opened up the shack, gaff in hand to evict anyone taking up residence - and then began setting things inside the sparse, practically unfurnished dwelling.
"When you're no longer needing me to carry, I'll go fetch my boat, cos the man who's watching it will have some stout hooks I bet, and then I'll go cut us some mussels and seaweed for dinner."
He looked around the docks, practical-minded and unconcerned with current events - things happened, you had to learn to go with it - and hoped his mussel patch was still there to harvest.
Patting him on the arm, Dora shook her head at the fisherman.
"Tis sweet of ya ta offer Dorian, but I've a sister in the city. I'll stay with her. Her place's on this side o' town so it should be okay. But, let's do get this stuff unloaded. I barrowed the horse and wagon from the Laughin' King. Now I've got ta find out where it goes."
The girl hugged her aunt tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry aunt Dora. All yer things, yer home. If there's anything I can do ta help!"
The unloading went smoothly and the two women arranged things and fixed the inside up to suit Maranda since the fisherman didn't seem to care. It didn't take that long to unload the wagon so Dorian could go fetch his boat. Finally, the two were finished and Maranda was left to add the finishing touches while her aunt went to return the horse and wagon.
Standing waving bye to her aunt, the girl heard a small meow. Turning around she smiled.
"Cat!" she knelt down and held out her hand which the gray cat rubbed against, purring. "I'm so glad yer here and safe." She rubbed it behind the ears, picked her up and sat in the sand watching the sun on the lake, sharing her heart with cat while they waited for the fisherman's return.
As he walked into town, the mood was somber but not one of defeat. There was a quiet determination in the people as they worked to rebuild their lives. Redlon's was far enough back into the city that his shop was not damaged. It was locked up tight however and from appearances, no one was home.
"Tis sweet of ya ta offer Dorian, but I've a sister in the city. I'll stay with her. Her place's on this side o' town so it should be okay. But, let's do get this stuff unloaded. I barrowed the horse and wagon from the Laughin' King. Now I've got ta find out where it goes."
The girl hugged her aunt tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry aunt Dora. All yer things, yer home. If there's anything I can do ta help!"
The unloading went smoothly and the two women arranged things and fixed the inside up to suit Maranda since the fisherman didn't seem to care. It didn't take that long to unload the wagon so Dorian could go fetch his boat. Finally, the two were finished and Maranda was left to add the finishing touches while her aunt went to return the horse and wagon.
Standing waving bye to her aunt, the girl heard a small meow. Turning around she smiled.
"Cat!" she knelt down and held out her hand which the gray cat rubbed against, purring. "I'm so glad yer here and safe." She rubbed it behind the ears, picked her up and sat in the sand watching the sun on the lake, sharing her heart with cat while they waited for the fisherman's return.
As he walked into town, the mood was somber but not one of defeat. There was a quiet determination in the people as they worked to rebuild their lives. Redlon's was far enough back into the city that his shop was not damaged. It was locked up tight however and from appearances, no one was home.
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Dorian Drake knocked on the door, hoping Redlon was home; if not, he'd just have to wait til tomorrow. He had news. He was married !
And then it was time to go fetch dinner, before it was too dark to see. Which meant he could go jump in the lake, and use his knife to cut some seaweed and mussels down. Tomorrow he would again be out on the water.....or at worst, fishing along the shoreline.
And then it was time to go fetch dinner, before it was too dark to see. Which meant he could go jump in the lake, and use his knife to cut some seaweed and mussels down. Tomorrow he would again be out on the water.....or at worst, fishing along the shoreline.
In response to his knock, there was some rustling inside and a deep voice called out with some effort, "Be right there."
A good half a burn later, the latch was loosed and the door cracked open. Redlon's face peeked out of the crack, eyes squinting at the sunshine from within the dark room.
"Dorian?" he frowned. "You made it back! I thought the orc would have got ya fer sure lad," he growled and opened the door a bit more. The parts of his body you could see were covered in a fine red rash.
"Can't let ya in, son. Got the rash and fever. Got some medicine for it, but don't want ta give it to ya. Here fer yer boat?" the old man smiled and nodded at the fisherman.
"It's in the back. I'd come help ya, but got na strength with this foul sickness. Sorry Dorian," he shook his head and coughed.
A good half a burn later, the latch was loosed and the door cracked open. Redlon's face peeked out of the crack, eyes squinting at the sunshine from within the dark room.
"Dorian?" he frowned. "You made it back! I thought the orc would have got ya fer sure lad," he growled and opened the door a bit more. The parts of his body you could see were covered in a fine red rash.
"Can't let ya in, son. Got the rash and fever. Got some medicine for it, but don't want ta give it to ya. Here fer yer boat?" the old man smiled and nodded at the fisherman.
"It's in the back. I'd come help ya, but got na strength with this foul sickness. Sorry Dorian," he shook his head and coughed.
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"Aye, back for my boat, and thanks for looking after it." said Dorian, looking on Redlon with concern. "You sure you're going to be all right ? I can carry it myself."
He carried the boat home, worrying about Redlon, and made for docks, where he tied the boat up and went back to the shack. "That fever thing - that you were worried about - is there a red rash ?" he asked Maranda.
He carried the boat home, worrying about Redlon, and made for docks, where he tied the boat up and went back to the shack. "That fever thing - that you were worried about - is there a red rash ?" he asked Maranda.
Maranda and her aunt had put the finishing touches on the inside of the home. The two women had managed to make use of the chests and a crate as make shift shelves and had neatly put all of the things they brought into the small shack. At the fisherman's return, the two were sitting outside and cat was in the blonde's lap purring happily not looking any the worse for her days alone.
Maranda frowned at Dorian's question, set the cat aside and stood up, "Why? You don't have a rash do ya, Dorian? We'll have ta get some herbs from town if ya do. The rash's really bad if ya don't get medicines ta help ya through it. Early on, folks were dyin' from it."
Maranda frowned at Dorian's question, set the cat aside and stood up, "Why? You don't have a rash do ya, Dorian? We'll have ta get some herbs from town if ya do. The rash's really bad if ya don't get medicines ta help ya through it. Early on, folks were dyin' from it."
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"No, not me, but Redlon had it," said Dorian, "I was just wondering. Hullo, Cat." he said, knuckling the animal's soft head. "I see thy belly was kept full enough. I'm off to fetch dinner." He smooched Maranda on the cheek, took his knife and bucket, and trotted off down the docks. There was no concern that the two women had completely rearranged his shack; none at all. He was just happy to be home.
And jumped into the water, quite happily. That was where the lakeweed and mussels were, after all, and he hadn't been in water all day so far. The light was fading, but there ought to be enough for him to see the food and gather it. The mussels would weight down the lakeweed, and he'd have to haul the bucket back up to the surface slowly, but so be it. Dinner tomorrow would be a proper one of fish, or whatever else the tides brought. And he'd bait his traps again.
And jumped into the water, quite happily. That was where the lakeweed and mussels were, after all, and he hadn't been in water all day so far. The light was fading, but there ought to be enough for him to see the food and gather it. The mussels would weight down the lakeweed, and he'd have to haul the bucket back up to the surface slowly, but so be it. Dinner tomorrow would be a proper one of fish, or whatever else the tides brought. And he'd bait his traps again.
At his news that Redlon had the rash and fever, the girl frowned.
"Did he have medicine, Dorian? Was someone taking care of him? If you start ta itch, we need ta get ya some of the herbs," she replied.
While the city was in shambles from the seige and orcs, the lake hadn't really been affected. Other than a bit of floatsom that had washed up on the shore, life on the water went on as usual.
The mussels hadn't moved nor had they been disturbed by the commotion above. When he came back out of the water, dinner in hand, cat met him meowing. Maranda was sitting on the step into the house, the afternoon breeze blowing through her hair.
"Did he have medicine, Dorian? Was someone taking care of him? If you start ta itch, we need ta get ya some of the herbs," she replied.
While the city was in shambles from the seige and orcs, the lake hadn't really been affected. Other than a bit of floatsom that had washed up on the shore, life on the water went on as usual.
The mussels hadn't moved nor had they been disturbed by the commotion above. When he came back out of the water, dinner in hand, cat met him meowing. Maranda was sitting on the step into the house, the afternoon breeze blowing through her hair.
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"He said he has medicine," said Dorian, who was rarely if ever ill, despite his frequent dunkings and lack of cold-weather clothing.
He returned, smiling and dripping wet, with a bucketful of food. Well, it was food to him already, but Maranda might have something to say about raw mussels and lakeweed. "I got dinner," he said. "Sometimes I wrap the mussel meat in the lakeweed and stew it; or boil the mussels and lakeweed to make a soup. Aunt Dora's gone to town ?" He set down the bucket, realised he was indeed soaking wet, took off his shirt and wrung it out. "Sorry. I forgot."
He returned, smiling and dripping wet, with a bucketful of food. Well, it was food to him already, but Maranda might have something to say about raw mussels and lakeweed. "I got dinner," he said. "Sometimes I wrap the mussel meat in the lakeweed and stew it; or boil the mussels and lakeweed to make a soup. Aunt Dora's gone to town ?" He set down the bucket, realised he was indeed soaking wet, took off his shirt and wrung it out. "Sorry. I forgot."
Smiling up at her husband, the blonde nodded then laughed as he pulled his wet shirt off to ring it out.
"That's not all that's wet," she giggled. "And yes, Aunt Dora had to take the horse and cart back to... well, back somewhere. If the Laughing King burnt down, she wasn't sure where to take them but she'll find someone that will know."
The girl sighed as her face sobered some. "She'll also find out who... well, which of her friends are still.. around." She shook her head.
"I never thought they'd attack the city. I mean..." her voice trailed off and she shook her head again and put on a pleasant face, looking up at her fisherman again.
Standing up, she kissed Dorian on the cheek. "And however you want to fix them," she motioned to his bucket of dinner. "Is fine. I am afraid I've never tried cooking mussles before. I'd probably ruin them.. but I'll learn," she smiled.
"What can I do to help?"
"That's not all that's wet," she giggled. "And yes, Aunt Dora had to take the horse and cart back to... well, back somewhere. If the Laughing King burnt down, she wasn't sure where to take them but she'll find someone that will know."
The girl sighed as her face sobered some. "She'll also find out who... well, which of her friends are still.. around." She shook her head.
"I never thought they'd attack the city. I mean..." her voice trailed off and she shook her head again and put on a pleasant face, looking up at her fisherman again.
Standing up, she kissed Dorian on the cheek. "And however you want to fix them," she motioned to his bucket of dinner. "Is fine. I am afraid I've never tried cooking mussles before. I'd probably ruin them.. but I'll learn," she smiled.
"What can I do to help?"
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Dorian wasn't the sort to be bothered much by what happened; his point of view on trouble was that he would avoid it, if possible, and fretting about it, well, that was just a waste of time and mental processing, but then the fisherman needed all available RAM to merely be able to go about his day. He also knew one thing for sure; life went on for the living.
"You can just keep Cat out of the bucket, that's more than I can manage." he said, and trimmed out the long leaves into manageable portions, then filled the cookpot with fresh water, dumping in the mussels and greens. "They'll open when they cook, and I'll show you how to slurp them out," he grinned. "They pick up salt, so they're tasty." Cooking wasn't women's work; it was how you ate, in his humble point of view, if you weren't on the boat and wanting a quick meal. He set up the fire, poked it til it was about right, not to high and not too low, and went to sit with his wife. She was more clever than he was; she was the bellwether when it came to trouble. "You're really worried about those orc things ?" he asked. "Do you think they will come back ?"
"You can just keep Cat out of the bucket, that's more than I can manage." he said, and trimmed out the long leaves into manageable portions, then filled the cookpot with fresh water, dumping in the mussels and greens. "They'll open when they cook, and I'll show you how to slurp them out," he grinned. "They pick up salt, so they're tasty." Cooking wasn't women's work; it was how you ate, in his humble point of view, if you weren't on the boat and wanting a quick meal. He set up the fire, poked it til it was about right, not to high and not too low, and went to sit with his wife. She was more clever than he was; she was the bellwether when it came to trouble. "You're really worried about those orc things ?" he asked. "Do you think they will come back ?"
Maranda hugged her fisherman's arm as he sat next to her while dinner cooked. Laying her head o.
"Dorian," she laid her head on his shoulder, speaking hesitantly as if her mind were busy pondering something.
"Do ya believe that gods really watch over us? Not just the general believe that everyone says but really believe like you could count on it maybe?" Pausing for a moment she snuggled closer to Dorian.
"Before mama died," she began slowly, "she told me... "this is fer the best my precious girl".... that's why I ran out.. ran to the beach. I didn't want her ta die but she knew she was. And she was actin' like it was okay.. like it was right fer her ta leave us. I didn't understand that... didn't understand why she'd want ta leave us. I figured it was just because she hurt so bad." She picked her head up and looked at him.
"D'ya realize, that if we hadn't gone home cuz of mama's death, Aunt Dora and Atson and probably me woulda been in the Laughin' King when it burned, probably woulda died with all the others. But we weren't there. We were back home takin' care of what needed doin' and so we missed all the danger. Well, maybe not all. The sickness is still about but you know what I mean. It's like mama knew what was comin'. But how could she?" Maranda sighed and put her head on Dorian's shoulder again.
"I'll have ta look fer a new job. Maybe with Marta at the sewin' shop, if she needs me," she hugged him again as the gray cat wandered up and rubbed against Dorian's ankles.
"Dorian," she laid her head on his shoulder, speaking hesitantly as if her mind were busy pondering something.
"Do ya believe that gods really watch over us? Not just the general believe that everyone says but really believe like you could count on it maybe?" Pausing for a moment she snuggled closer to Dorian.
"Before mama died," she began slowly, "she told me... "this is fer the best my precious girl".... that's why I ran out.. ran to the beach. I didn't want her ta die but she knew she was. And she was actin' like it was okay.. like it was right fer her ta leave us. I didn't understand that... didn't understand why she'd want ta leave us. I figured it was just because she hurt so bad." She picked her head up and looked at him.
"D'ya realize, that if we hadn't gone home cuz of mama's death, Aunt Dora and Atson and probably me woulda been in the Laughin' King when it burned, probably woulda died with all the others. But we weren't there. We were back home takin' care of what needed doin' and so we missed all the danger. Well, maybe not all. The sickness is still about but you know what I mean. It's like mama knew what was comin'. But how could she?" Maranda sighed and put her head on Dorian's shoulder again.
"I'll have ta look fer a new job. Maybe with Marta at the sewin' shop, if she needs me," she hugged him again as the gray cat wandered up and rubbed against Dorian's ankles.
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Dorian wasn't by and large a religious type; he believed in what Old Drake had believed in, which was none of the going-to-town-and-listening-to-some-preacher religion. Religion was in how you lived more than what you did on whatever day. You didn't take more than you needed, you saved your money against bad times, you took care of what needed to be done and you worked every day the gods sent you. There were gods of the water, the tides, the wind, the rain and the sun, and deeper concepts that he knew, unremembered in his past. So it was a qualified, "I don't know how she knew," he said. "But it's all right now."
He patted her shoulder, content to sit there for a while, as the water heated and started to send out the sweet smell of cooking mussels. "You'll find something to do," he said. "I'll need to patch up my boat again, if there's cracks that take on water tonight. But that's tomorrow; when the light of day is back." He couldn't form it into a proper thought, but what he meant was, you had so much time, and it had to be taken that way; you did what you could in the time you had.
He patted her shoulder, content to sit there for a while, as the water heated and started to send out the sweet smell of cooking mussels. "You'll find something to do," he said. "I'll need to patch up my boat again, if there's cracks that take on water tonight. But that's tomorrow; when the light of day is back." He couldn't form it into a proper thought, but what he meant was, you had so much time, and it had to be taken that way; you did what you could in the time you had.
Dorian had a simple way of looking at things and his new wife liked it. Unlike her, he didn't fret and worry over things preferring to just deal with things as they came. She hugged him tightly and smiled.
It wasn't long before the mussles had popped open and the scent of the lakeweed drifted through the air. Maranda produced two plates and eating utensils.
The gray cat lay nearby, flopping her gray tale lazily against the ground, eyes blinking to see might be disturbing her quiet repose.
It wasn't long before the mussles had popped open and the scent of the lakeweed drifted through the air. Maranda produced two plates and eating utensils.
The gray cat lay nearby, flopping her gray tale lazily against the ground, eyes blinking to see might be disturbing her quiet repose.
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Plates ? Oh, well, he was a civilised married man now, so plates it was. He scooped the stew out onto the plates for her, and showed her how to suck the mussles out of their gaping shells. And the cat got some, of course; and Dorian chewed on the lakeweed, enjoying the squeak of it against his strong teeth. "I'll go fishing tomorrow." he said. "If the boat's leaking, I'll fish from the shoreline, and fix the boat. Winter's coming."
Another thought wandered through, taking its time, as such things were wont to do with Dorian. "And maybe, if I get out on the water, the Mer will come round and tell me when we're to go meet them," he said.
Another thought wandered through, taking its time, as such things were wont to do with Dorian. "And maybe, if I get out on the water, the Mer will come round and tell me when we're to go meet them," he said.
It was all a bit chewier than she was used to, but she was hungry and the flavor was good so she sucked the mussels as she was shown, giggling as the liquid ran down her chin. The heat of the day began to fade as the sun started its plunge into the horizon and the wind off the water died down some. As the light of day faded, off in the distance lights began to appear from the many ships now sitting in the main harbor. The waters lapped calmly against the shore and the noisy gulls had thinned considerably.
Maranda sat and listened to her husband go over his plans for the next day. She nodded as she finished up her meal and set her plate aside.
"I need to go check on Aunt Dora tomorrow. That and check in with Marta and see how she is, see if she is still looking for a helping hand."
Down the shore, a family with three children huddled around a fire. A man who had been fishing off the dock joined them and skewered the fish onto sticks which the woman and two older children held over the fire close enough to cook the fish without burning it.
Maranda sat and listened to her husband go over his plans for the next day. She nodded as she finished up her meal and set her plate aside.
"I need to go check on Aunt Dora tomorrow. That and check in with Marta and see how she is, see if she is still looking for a helping hand."
Down the shore, a family with three children huddled around a fire. A man who had been fishing off the dock joined them and skewered the fish onto sticks which the woman and two older children held over the fire close enough to cook the fish without burning it.
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Guest
"Aarrgh," grunted Dorian, "I'd better show them how to do it proper." he nodded at the family by the fire. "And I cooked, so you gets to wash," he grinned at Maranda. "Wipe out the pot with sand, and rinse it clean."
He got to his feet, mostly dry now, not that it mattered, and sauntered down toward the beach, walking slowly. "Evening." he said, pausing a ways from the campsite. Maranda had sort of softened him from his miserly lifestyle. "I am a fisherman by trade, and I was going to see if you wanted a few new recipes for fish over a fire." he nodded toward the precariously spitted fish. "So's you'll lose less to the fire. Did you throw out the guts to those fish ? If you didn't throw 'em far, I'll have 'em for my traps, and it will be a fair trade."
He knew recipes from Old Drake; lakeweed-wrapped and cooked on the coals, clay-wrapped and cooked on the coals, broiled on a flat stone with the blister-weed, and of course, his versions of fish in the stewpot. And there was spitted and dripped on black bread, good for oily fish.
He got to his feet, mostly dry now, not that it mattered, and sauntered down toward the beach, walking slowly. "Evening." he said, pausing a ways from the campsite. Maranda had sort of softened him from his miserly lifestyle. "I am a fisherman by trade, and I was going to see if you wanted a few new recipes for fish over a fire." he nodded toward the precariously spitted fish. "So's you'll lose less to the fire. Did you throw out the guts to those fish ? If you didn't throw 'em far, I'll have 'em for my traps, and it will be a fair trade."
He knew recipes from Old Drake; lakeweed-wrapped and cooked on the coals, clay-wrapped and cooked on the coals, broiled on a flat stone with the blister-weed, and of course, his versions of fish in the stewpot. And there was spitted and dripped on black bread, good for oily fish.
Standing to his feet, the light haired man smiled as Dorian approached. About the same height as the fisherman, that was the only similarity. This man was slender, almost skinny with blonde wavey hair that had been cropped at his chin. Dark brown eyes sat over a long pointed nose but he had a pleasant smile.
"Evenin'," he held out his hand. "Thorton, Haymon Thorton," he shook the fisherman's hand and looked at his family with their skewered fish and shrugged.
"We're doin' oka..." he started but was interrupted by his wife, average height, her mousey brown hair was pulled up into a severe knot on top of her head. Pretty in her own way, she wasn't smiling and looked tired.
"The fish'll drop off the sticks and inta the fire, Haymon," she insisted. "This man obviously knows what he's doin'... and we do need the help," she looked up at Dorian, her soft brown eyes heavy with dark circles under them.
"Nothin' wrong with needin' help, is there?" she let her gaze go back and forth between the two men. "Least wise I need help. My children are hungry and I have na pots or pans ta cook on. We're tryin' ta make do since our home b...." her voice caught but she composed herself.
"Since it burned in the attack," she finished softly. The skinny man nodded and looked down.
"My wife, Edena. Best woman ever," he looked at her lovingly, then back at Dorian.
"And yes, we'd appreciate any help we could get," the man added and pointed to large log down the shore next to the water.
"Left the innards out there away from our fire." A single gull had found the remains and began to pick at them.
"Evenin'," he held out his hand. "Thorton, Haymon Thorton," he shook the fisherman's hand and looked at his family with their skewered fish and shrugged.
"We're doin' oka..." he started but was interrupted by his wife, average height, her mousey brown hair was pulled up into a severe knot on top of her head. Pretty in her own way, she wasn't smiling and looked tired.
"The fish'll drop off the sticks and inta the fire, Haymon," she insisted. "This man obviously knows what he's doin'... and we do need the help," she looked up at Dorian, her soft brown eyes heavy with dark circles under them.
"Nothin' wrong with needin' help, is there?" she let her gaze go back and forth between the two men. "Least wise I need help. My children are hungry and I have na pots or pans ta cook on. We're tryin' ta make do since our home b...." her voice caught but she composed herself.
"Since it burned in the attack," she finished softly. The skinny man nodded and looked down.
"My wife, Edena. Best woman ever," he looked at her lovingly, then back at Dorian.
"And yes, we'd appreciate any help we could get," the man added and pointed to large log down the shore next to the water.
"Left the innards out there away from our fire." A single gull had found the remains and began to pick at them.
Last edited by Shaeliana on Sun Apr 27, 2003 10:07 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Guest
Dorian shook the hand. "My name is Dorian Drake," he said.
He eyed the gull and went over to shoo it, kicking sand over the scraps. He'd pick them up after, but first, he wanted to see to the fish-cooking.
"This fish - Striper. You can't stew this fish, the bones melt and the flesh goes runny, you have to grill it over the fire like this or fry it on a hot stone. In the hollow along that bank, where there's an inlet, there's some stones washed flat by the sand and the water. You set them up right by the fire, on stones so the flames wash under, and lay the fish on top when water sizzles on the rock and the coals are orange," That was pure Old Drake, too damn cheap to buy a griddle. "You flip them with a clamshell, when they're on the rock, or a whittled piece of driftwood." Yep, Dorian Drake was definitely aware of how to do things CHEAPLY.
"But as you haven't got the rock yet, you spit 'em like so, along the spine or they'll fall into the fire." He expertly re-spitted a fish on a stick, then reached for the next one, making sure they saw how to do it. "Another way to do fish, like bluefin, is to wrap it in clay - there's a clay wash up that way - " he nodded in the direction, "And you stick it under the coals for while, til the clay's hard, and you break it open and eat. Or you can wrap it in lakeweed - the flat dark green leaves, they grow about - twice my height out into the lake, and cook 'em on the stone or on the spit. The lakeweed is good for you. But never cut more than one frond in four, else it will die and you'll have to go further." That you had to swim, and hold your breath, wasn't anything that bothered the fisherman. His first thing to do when he got home was jump in the lake, and so it would be until the water froze. Then he'd have to chop a hole in the ice first.
He knew other recipes, but the words for what the weeds were, were eluding him, at least in common. "When you get the chance, get a strong iron cookpot, so you can stew the lakeweed and clams. I'll show the children how to dig clams tomorrow, when I'm done seeing to my boat and my nets." There was digging clams....and there was the Drake Method of digging clams. The Drake method meant you ate tonight. And tomorrow. He had never gone hungry for long; Old Drake had made sure of that.
"And you'll want to build a shelter before winter comes. The wind on the shore is cold. But plenty to eat in the lake....blisterweed, darkleaf lakeweed, maidenhair, mussels and clams, and of course, fish."
He eyed the gull and went over to shoo it, kicking sand over the scraps. He'd pick them up after, but first, he wanted to see to the fish-cooking.
"This fish - Striper. You can't stew this fish, the bones melt and the flesh goes runny, you have to grill it over the fire like this or fry it on a hot stone. In the hollow along that bank, where there's an inlet, there's some stones washed flat by the sand and the water. You set them up right by the fire, on stones so the flames wash under, and lay the fish on top when water sizzles on the rock and the coals are orange," That was pure Old Drake, too damn cheap to buy a griddle. "You flip them with a clamshell, when they're on the rock, or a whittled piece of driftwood." Yep, Dorian Drake was definitely aware of how to do things CHEAPLY.
"But as you haven't got the rock yet, you spit 'em like so, along the spine or they'll fall into the fire." He expertly re-spitted a fish on a stick, then reached for the next one, making sure they saw how to do it. "Another way to do fish, like bluefin, is to wrap it in clay - there's a clay wash up that way - " he nodded in the direction, "And you stick it under the coals for while, til the clay's hard, and you break it open and eat. Or you can wrap it in lakeweed - the flat dark green leaves, they grow about - twice my height out into the lake, and cook 'em on the stone or on the spit. The lakeweed is good for you. But never cut more than one frond in four, else it will die and you'll have to go further." That you had to swim, and hold your breath, wasn't anything that bothered the fisherman. His first thing to do when he got home was jump in the lake, and so it would be until the water froze. Then he'd have to chop a hole in the ice first.
He knew other recipes, but the words for what the weeds were, were eluding him, at least in common. "When you get the chance, get a strong iron cookpot, so you can stew the lakeweed and clams. I'll show the children how to dig clams tomorrow, when I'm done seeing to my boat and my nets." There was digging clams....and there was the Drake Method of digging clams. The Drake method meant you ate tonight. And tomorrow. He had never gone hungry for long; Old Drake had made sure of that.
"And you'll want to build a shelter before winter comes. The wind on the shore is cold. But plenty to eat in the lake....blisterweed, darkleaf lakeweed, maidenhair, mussels and clams, and of course, fish."
Maranda smiled at her fisherman off helping this obviously stranded family as she began to clean up after their meal. Once she'd scrubbed everything clean and put it away, she wandered down to where Dorian was explaining various ways of cooking the fish. She smiled at the woman whose whole attention was taking in the new information.
"Thank ya," she gushed. "We hope not ta be here come winter." She looked up at her husband. "There's lots o' rebuildin' ta do all over in the city, but hopefully we'll get something up before it gets too cold." The tall slender man nodded in reply.
"Hopefully, but wouldn't hurt ta build a shelter of some sort here. We'll need shelter from rain before it gets cold," the man added.
"And hopefully my job'll be back in business soon as well. Til then, this seemed the best place ta be. Things are a bit... dangerous in the city right now," he shook his head, looked back at his children and smiled.
"And I am sure the kids'd love ta dig clams, Mr. Drake. Thank you," the man dipped his head to Dorian and to the blonde who had come up to stand beside her husband.
"Howdy ma'am," he greeted her. "My wife, Edena," he offered as the woman smiled at Maranda who smiled and nodded back.
"You two have no kids?" he asked, looking back towards the fisherman's house, then back at the couple.
"Thank ya," she gushed. "We hope not ta be here come winter." She looked up at her husband. "There's lots o' rebuildin' ta do all over in the city, but hopefully we'll get something up before it gets too cold." The tall slender man nodded in reply.
"Hopefully, but wouldn't hurt ta build a shelter of some sort here. We'll need shelter from rain before it gets cold," the man added.
"And hopefully my job'll be back in business soon as well. Til then, this seemed the best place ta be. Things are a bit... dangerous in the city right now," he shook his head, looked back at his children and smiled.
"And I am sure the kids'd love ta dig clams, Mr. Drake. Thank you," the man dipped his head to Dorian and to the blonde who had come up to stand beside her husband.
"Howdy ma'am," he greeted her. "My wife, Edena," he offered as the woman smiled at Maranda who smiled and nodded back.
"You two have no kids?" he asked, looking back towards the fisherman's house, then back at the couple.
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Guest
"This is my wife, Maranda." said Dorian, quite proudly. "We were just married a couple days ago." He smiled daftly at the woman who had won his heart as introductions were made.
"Yep, that's my father's shack," he said. "He built it well. There's plenty of logs that wash up, and driftwood; and clay. You could make a lean-to quick enough, set so it's in the lee of the wind, and then keep building onto it if you need to. If there's a storm that's bad, though, best get back into town anyway. The tides can go high in a bad storm."
"Yep, that's my father's shack," he said. "He built it well. There's plenty of logs that wash up, and driftwood; and clay. You could make a lean-to quick enough, set so it's in the lee of the wind, and then keep building onto it if you need to. If there's a storm that's bad, though, best get back into town anyway. The tides can go high in a bad storm."
With a little giggle, the blonde hugged Dorian's arm and waved at the woman by the fire, smiling brightly at the children. The man nodded.
"Thank you! I hope we won't be here long, but have no way of knowing that for sure. A shelter is a good idea in the meantime. With the fall coming on, nights will get cooler for sure," the man moved back over to the fire and helped one of his boys turn the fish so it wouldn't burn on one side.
"Anything we can do to help you, just say so," he offered as his wife began to work the cooked fish off the sticks onto large green leaves as substitute plates.
"We'll go in tomorrow and find what we can in the rubble. I hope the cook pot survived. Rubble was still too warm to go in today," she shook her head and handed a leaf of fish to the youngest.
"We're all healthy and whole and that is the most important thing," she finished with a smile, doling out food to her kids.
"That it is," replied her husband looking at Dorian. "Your welcome to sit and join us. If we'd known we would have company, we'd have caught more fish. What is your trade?"
"Thank you! I hope we won't be here long, but have no way of knowing that for sure. A shelter is a good idea in the meantime. With the fall coming on, nights will get cooler for sure," the man moved back over to the fire and helped one of his boys turn the fish so it wouldn't burn on one side.
"Anything we can do to help you, just say so," he offered as his wife began to work the cooked fish off the sticks onto large green leaves as substitute plates.
"We'll go in tomorrow and find what we can in the rubble. I hope the cook pot survived. Rubble was still too warm to go in today," she shook her head and handed a leaf of fish to the youngest.
"We're all healthy and whole and that is the most important thing," she finished with a smile, doling out food to her kids.
"That it is," replied her husband looking at Dorian. "Your welcome to sit and join us. If we'd known we would have company, we'd have caught more fish. What is your trade?"