Obey Your Captain

As he revealed the babe from his cloak the thin spindly arms reached up as if to grasp him.

A week later, Baron sent Kaliyah to study at the bow, knowing she was itching to practice. He hadn’t let her since the battle. “Don’t burn my boat!” he reminded her as she slipped from his office.

A smile found its way upon his lips. She would be his wife and he wanted it no other way. So much so, he planned to curtail their final port, heading straight to Blackwater after Osoway. They could still sell the goods there that weren’t to fill a later shipment. However, there were a few things to get in order before they reached Blackwater.

Grabbing parchment, he dipped his quill in the ink he began scrawling in his best hand.

Dear Treasurer.

I dear so hope this letter finds you well.

I am hereby writing to inform you I am to take Miss Kaliyah Warren’s hand in marriage. To this effect, I will be taking on the Warren family as the only male. It has been brought to my attention that the late Merchant Warren owed taxes and debts to the city. It will be my intention after the wedding for this gold to be paid.

A thousand pardons for not filling the page with a scrawl you would so be accustomed, however I hope my message has come across.

Captain Baron Torlar.

Pulling another parchment towards him, he penned a letter to an old friend. Hoping to get some information regarding Merchant Warren’s debts. Something just wasn’t adding up to him.

Something was wrong.

As soon as they made port, he had a messenger take his two letters, paying for the fastest he could ride, glad Osoway was on the same land as Blackwater. If he were not Captain, he’d have taken Kaliyah and rode himself. Alas, he had a ship to sail, merchants to haggle and an intended to warm his lap. A place he insisted she sit regularly, her nose pressed to his collar. If it were proper, he’d never let her leave his lap.

His Talpa would not allow it, much to his displeasure.

He had not told his intended his plan for the day, she was free to do as she wished while he ran his errands. Errands that did not involve going to market. While many knew his family, the Torlar’s were renowned, and not just for his standing as a merchant and Captain. No. It were his father that had a greater standing.

He rented a chestnut horse that could happily take his bulk, riding from the port town, navigating trails he knew well enough. As soon as he could ride he’d take this route, wanting to watch the ships. His father did not approve. True… his father approved of very little. It had been this port he had met Merchant Warren at five summers old. Captain Warren as he was known then, was a new Captain, just starting out with a small boat of ten crew. Young Baron had thought it would be a good boat to have a look at… there had been no crew aboard.

Alas, the Captain was. Merchant Warren had grabbed him by the scruff. Laughing, asking why a Lordling would want anything to do with a ship.

A smile found Baron’s lips, remembering the man patting his head when he expressed his wish to sail. He had given him sound advice. Come back in three summers.

True to a promise he made, he came back, every day that summer, he had ridden to the port, hoping to see the boat. After two weeks… he was losing hope and the lashings he was receiving for sneaking off were making it hard to ride.

He went to the harbour, not seeing the small ship, he knew he would have to return home against his wish when a large hand fell on his shoulder.

Merchant Warren.

He had boarded his much larger ship and never looked back. He had been home a smattering of times since then. The last time, just after he bought his first boat five years prior. His mother had just been taken by the pox, and his father… even more temperamental.

It was a duty he must do. That was the only reason for his visit as he cantered to a stop before the large gate, small farmsteads dotted the land around him. “What is your business?” a soldier asked from the wall.

“I’m here to see Lord Torlar… I have news.”

“Be he expecting you?”

“He does not.” He looked up to the soldier who was barely out of his teens that spoke. He would not recognise him.

“Then you are not welcome, sailor. Go.” Was his profession so obvious?

“Get Qinan. He will recognise the old bastard’s son.”

“Lordling Torlar?”

“I am no ling now.” He squinted at the new voice, “Keljor?”

“Yes, sir. Open the gate, you idiot!” he chastised the other soldier. The gate rose, so Baron trotted through, dismounting for a stable hand to take his horse immediately. As he looked around the courtyard where many were buying and selling, it didn’t feel like home. In truth… this had never felt home.

He pressed a hand on the front door, stepping inside, it was warm, a fire stoked to perfection basked the entrance hall in a warm glow. He turned into the banquet hall where the familiar man sat. The throne Baron always felt was laughable, his father was no king. He may lord over land but that was all, a throne was not justified. The elder man was once a warrior, but it was clear he lived a life of wine and food. “M’Lord,” Baron mumbled as he stepped closer to his father. An elf he did not resemble.

“Baron?”

“Aye.”

“I was not expecting you.” Lord Torlar shifted in his seat, “You should have sent word, I would have-”

“I’m not staying. I am to be back at sea in the morning. I only came to inform you I am to be married.”

The Lord sat straighter, “You are?” A smile some would state was pride washed over the elder man’s face. Baron knew better. “It is a dutchess?”

“Nay. A merchant’s daughter. She is a fine lady.”

His smile faded to a sneer. “A sea wench? A human?”

“Yes, father. We will reach Blackwater and I shall be wed. I am merely telling you as a courtesy.”

“Do I know of this wench?”

“Aye. Merchant Warren’s heir.” Baron could not help the smug smile as his father’s dark complexion turned pale before red splotches appeared in rage.

“The bastard that stole you!”

“He never stole me. You knew I was to leave. Knew my wishes.”

“Well… That is of no consequence now. If you are to be wed, you will come back here. Your place is as a Lord.”

“I am no lord. I am a Captain. Land was never my home, therefore I have no intention of lording over it.”

“As my heir you must! I am growing older… I will not be here for-”

Baron sneered in disgust, “You should have bred a bastard. I fear it was not mother who were barren,” he spat.

Lord Torlar’s eyes bulged, “How dare-” he began, but Baron had no intention of listening.

“I shall take my leave.”

“You are no son of mine!” he bellowed.

“True.” His boots slapped against stone as he retreated, the Lord bellowing after him. Maybe all he had to say could have been penned in a letter. There was something satisfying telling his father that he would never take his place. If Kaliyah were able to swell with child, they would raise their family at sea. If he had it his way, he would die at sea.

“You will never see your inheritance!” the Lord screamed as Baron slammed the door to the hall shut.

“Ah, Baron, I thought I heard you were here.”

“Qinan.” The two men clasped hands. “It has been long.”

“Indeed, boy, it has.” The half-elf was as broad as Baron, their hair of a similar shade beneath Qinan’s grey streaks. His honey eyes only a touch lighter than Baron’s. “Should a maid prepare your chambers?”

“Nay, I am not staying. Will your duties take you to Blackwater in the coming weeks?”

“Hmm… they could do, why do you ask?”

“I have asked a maiden’s hand. The wedding will be once we have sailed to Blackwater, I hope to arrive within two weeks.”

“As Captain of the Guard it will be an honour to ensure security at such a special occasion.” The words Baron knew he himself wanted to say, as well as what the Captain wished… remained unspoken. They had an understanding.

“I have some business in Blackwater regarding my intended’s estate. Can I call on you to support if the need arises?”

“Of course. I shall arrange to be in Blackwater for one week. I shall clear it with the Lord.”

“Thank you, you’re a good man.”

“You know I have never been such. But thank you, sir.”

“I’m not above you, Qinan… I have no title, I will not take over this estate.”

The half-elf frowned, “You will not?”

“No. My place is at sea. I do not possess land legs.”

“I see. I will see you at Blackwater. Have a safe journey.”

“The same to you.” Baron nodded before making his way back outside to the stables. The hour-long ride back to port held an emptiness within him. A relieving emptiness.

He knew he would never go back there. A knowledge that made him feel so free.