Wanderlust (mxm)

Chapter Four

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."