Chronicles of Trisha Talon - Book 1 - Chapter 2

Story by Cafecorgi on SoFurry

, , , , , ,

#2 of Chronicles of Trisha Talon

Port Tabitha looms with things to be done. Can Trisha find passage on a ship out of Chanteer?


2.

I scrambled nimbly back from a few stubborn bushes clinging to treasured dirt within the cliff walls. The city gates of Port Tabitha lay ahead a good two hundred feet, open to all and with no surprise, manned by a pair of crusaders. I made my way back to the resting pilgrims I'd left around a jutting slope of the cliff walls. The ladies all looked at me with a mix of hope and seeded hues of cowardice. I crouched by them and opened my satchels. The mother of the two kittens approached me with hesitation and knelt by me as I took out my armor but left the chain mail coat within the satchels.

"What did you see Trisha?" she asked me.

"The gates are open. There's hope but we have trouble." I said as I took in her form and size, and then stared at the other women, sizing them all up.

"Trouble? More crusaders then. Should we turn back and flee?" She asked.

I shook my head 'no' as I mulled over a few plans. "We turn back and they'll catch us on the steps going up the cliffs or down upon the beach. We move forward. They may not fully expect us. Why would a wanted person run for a town manned by crusaders? It would be both foolish and unexpected. The two crusaders I spied seem young and new to my mind. They may not have seen a posting for my capture yet."

"Forgive me for doubting you, but this sounds like madness. A large gamble with our lives to stake upon them not knowing you." She said.

"Oh, I am sure they would know of me. All kittens taken in for training learn of the crusaders before them both living and departed. They may not know my face, but they'll know my father's sword. He was well known for his integrity and keeping his charges safe for nearly a decade." I said and undid several straps upon my armor.

"I fail to see how this helps our cause?" She said.

"Trainees may learn about the names, but there are several monasteries about Chanteer. Crusaders do not stick to their ordained districts when protecting pilgrims. Stand up for me." I said.

"What?" She asked confused.

I stood and motioned for her to get up. "You're going to play the part of our Crusader."

She stood and looked equal part flustered and embarrassed as I removed my cloak, leaving me in just fur, stripped her out of her white robes and dressed her as me. I worked on strapping her into my armor. It took a bit of thinking and effort to get it to fit her smaller, lither frame but she cut the part of a crusader in training. I stowed my belt of mercy and rapier into a satchel, leaving it open and easy to withdraw the blade.

"You're dressing me up as a crusader but keeping the belt and sword hidden? Won't that make me seem suspicious?" She asked standing stiffly in metal discomfort.

"Many crusaders start with a rite of passage. It is not uncommon to see an initiate without weapon and belt being sent to large cities to seek ordination. That is usually when the monastery in that district bestows upon them sword and belt." I stood and wiggled into her robes that protested with my larger, seasoned framed.

"What about the official blessing from the monastery?" She asked.

I withdrew the thin leather case from a satchel and held it out to her. She flinched and drew back.

"That is from a dead body." She stammered.

"Yes and that body has no need for possessions. Take it. Inside are official writs of blessings to do holy work for the Madesto Monastery." I said.

She took the leather case with a nauseated look upon her face. "Why did you not take her belt? If you wanted to rob her, you're a poor thief in your picking."

My amber eyes narrowed and I stepped in, waving a finger in front of her muzzle. "I did not rob Calipo. I took from her that which she lost the right to bear. The coins would do me no good. Each crusader has a personal stamp. Each coin is marked by Monastery and Crusader. To have her Rotaran upon us would mark us for sure as her murderer and thieves."

She gave a chuff of displeasure at the closeness of my finger to her muzzle. "And the papers will not do the same?"

"They won't. They never belonged to her." I tapped my family's crest upon the leather case and turned away from the pilgrim.

My armor creaked a bit as she pursued me. "Never belonged to her? Then, you knew those two crusaders personally?"

I gave her the hardest glare I could muster over my shoulder. "They were apprentices assigned to me. Two young people that bit deep into the rot of power." I looked away from her and stood at the edge of the cliff bulge and watched the city gate for a moment. "Those writs of blessing are from the Nalbino Monastery. Handed to me on a fool quest. A quest that lead to me shining a light on the darkest sins of clergy. When light is sent to shine in the darkest closets of the Holy, many stamp it out. Evil roots better in the dark, like mushrooms beneath a log."

She was silent a long moment or two. "So the oath breaking and theft . . ." She broke off the question as if hesitant to push further.

"I drew to close to the suns, and there was nothing left but my Icarus wings to be melted for my insolence. The less you know, the less harm will come to you and your kittens. We must move on, the guards will change and we may not be lucky then. Just act like you own the world. Full of pride. Ego. And that the rest of us are beneath you. If they ask your business, hand them your papers. State you are a new trainee of the Calibrios line. You have a meeting with a senior crusader at the Cat's Cradle Tavern." I coached her in a brittle tone.

"And if that doesn't work?" She asked.

"Then I'll handle the rest." I said.

We both motioned for the pilgrims to join us and together walked for the gate. I remained with the two children, just behind our moonlighting crusader. The remaining two women followed behind us. I do not know what the woman before me had conjured to her mind to assist her role as a crusader. She walked with a determination that left me looking for a slipper held in one hand ready to beat the unruly into obedience.

The crusaders held up hands and had swords drawn seeing our group approach. They hailed us and asked our intent for entering the city at night. The female pilgrim did well; sticking to the explanation I gave her and held out the leather case of writs. I kept a hand on each kitten to keep the calm as they trembled from the sight of more crusaders. I could only wonder if they'd grow up in fear of a once noble order instead of in hope for assistance and protection. I watched the crusaders, both were no more than fifteen years, both had eyes that shown like illuminated topaz and both were of lynx blood. As they spoke to our faux crusader, they acted in unison. Twins I realized and unusual that such young trainees, for neither had a Belt of Mercy or their own rapiers were set to guard the gates at night.

They gave cursory inspection of the writs and handed them back to the female pilgrim. Then they both looked at me with a dawning of recognition of who I was. My pulse quickened and my eyes trailed to the handle of my rapier lurking in the satchel within easy reach. They simply smiled, stood aside and motioned us to enter the city. I'd seen them before but my addled mind couldn't place where. My tail bristled with anxiety as we entered into Port Tabitha.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We'd reached the Cat's Cradle with little molestation. The crusaders on watch gave us all brief glances and strolled on. I knew we were pushing our luck and made sure to guide the group to the docks of Port Tabitha. The Cat's Cradle was easy to see as it took up the space of five piers and bobbed up and down in the rising swells of the Madesto Gulf. Long spars of iron oak ran from deeply set stone pilings and cupped the tavern in a nest of rigging. The entry to the tavern, planks woven into a rope bridge buoyed by empty rum casks, proved amusing on most nights to those under heavy libation of things better left to stripping hull varnish.

Once inside, I left the pilgrims to a small round table in the corner drowned in the haze of smoke and evening shadow. I took the satchel with my belt and sword within and plied my way among the carousing patrons; tables were scooted in close to squeeze in space for a few drunken dancers upon tables that dared reality to keep them together. I reached the bar made out of an old galleon banister and decked with cherry wood planks. A portly male Felissii that took possession of his Cougar heritage leaned on the bar top and polished a pewter mug. His leather apron and white shirt were soot stained from a wood grill behind him as pilmoo steaks sizzled away. He seemed to be doing his best to tune out the off key dancers as they caterwauled in inebriated delight. His left eye was a literal pearl as scars ran from a tattered ear though the eye socket and to his jaw. His lone jade eye gave me a measured glare as I approached his bar.

I took a lean on that polished cherry wood and spoke low. "Has Captain Tilson made port?" I asked.

The bar tender gave his mug a long, considering look. "Depends on who is looking for him. The whole port is stirring. Humming like a wasp nest looking to be stepped on."

"A friend and fellow Felissii in arms." I said.

He glanced at me, and then glanced at a cork board near the grill. A likeness of my face and a bounty of ten thousand rotaran reward alive were posted for all to see. My blood ran cold. They already had my warrant in circulation. I drew back a step, ready to consider fleeing. The bar tender sat the pewter mug down, turned, flipped the steaks to renew a symphony of sizzles then returned to stare at me.

"With friends like you, Captain Tilson must have some stormy days. Take a rest, Talon. This tavern has seen its fair share of fugitives. He is in the back room with two ladies from afar." He hooked a thumb to a small hallway leading to a rear exit and the open water toilets.

"My thanks." I withdrew a single rotaran and slid it to him. "Pilgrims are with me. Caught up in something beyond them. Food, drink and any spare clothing if you have them."

He eyed my rotaran and slid it back to me. "Fugitives may be welcome here, but not their coin. Easier to not lose my head with collaboration resting within my coffers. I'll see they are cared for." He turned away and drew a wood platter and began drawing tankards of ale.

As he hollered for a Siamese wench that was busy ogling a pair of rugged Main Coon sailors, I slipped over to the small hallway and walked to the rear of the Cat's Cradle. The hall opened onto a rocking deck that had banister railing and opened right onto the water. Ship lanterns bobbed in the evening as ships pulled in or departed, and the salt air mixed with the faint odor of bilge from the bathrooms. Pigeons roosted in sleep for the evening as I walked passed them, easily able to touch their feathers should I feel the need. A small door was propped open and the sweet smell of pipe tobacco rolled from it. Voices wafted with that smoke, one male with a Felissii accent, the other two were female, more formal and well articulated from a land that spoke the trade tongue well. I paused at the edge of the door way to listen without giving sight to my presence.

"You want me to take two Humarans to Yester Wende on the promise of being paid fifty thousand rotarans upon reaching the port? Are you two daft? I hear the mewling of Crusaders searching for two Humarans. You both have a nice bounty posted by the Hammer of Aethar. Sixty thousand rotarans each. I could mend my ship for years by just handing you two over to them." The male voice spoke and I knew it was Captain Tilson.

"We're wasting our time sitting here. The Hammer has agents that are working their way here with the help of the local nut jobs. We find a different ship, Ahmeh, if this old husk of a Felissii is bent on making money off of us." The first female voice said with a tone of earnest anger and haste.

"Bethany, ease up. You'll start shooting people again from paranoia. Captain Morav Tilson, I plead to your better nature. You brought me to Chanteer years ago and my cargo. Without my weaponry, you're country would still have pockets of Humaran resistance. You owe me a national duty, Captain, to get me to a safer land. I can pay you more rotaran if you wish; I am the former General Ahmeh Phoenix. I have multiple war chests in every nation. Yester Wende is but one of them. From there we can find new passage and you'll be richer and less bothered by two Humarans on the run. What do you say?" The second female voice spoke.

The sound of a chair creaked. "I say it's a brother, Ahmeh. You ask me to take my ship through the tiger tail of hurricane season. It's a month long trek to Yester Wend from Port Tabitha. Longer still if there is Humaran ships looking for you. You're asking me to risk the life of my crew for a promise of payment."

Something heavy thunked onto wood with a clink of metal. "There. One thousand rotaran and I'll even lay with you if it'll guarantee passage." Ahmeh spoke.

"Ahmeh. That's the last of our gold. You're going to waste it all on him as well as sleep with him? Have you gone mad?" Bethany spoke.

The sound of a chair thumping to the floor was heard and a chair creaked again. "The coin is thin payment, but it be enough to consider your passage with my ship and crew. I find your kind unappealing so you can keep your legs closed."

"When will we be off?" Ahmeh spoke.

"On the next high tide in an hour assuming I find more people to ferry. My crew will skin me for taking them a month from their kin and loves for only a thousand rotaran. You best hope I find more passengers or the crusaders may look mighty inviting to me." Captain Tilson spoke.

Bethany made the sounds of barely contained anger and called the Captain a nip addled buffoon. The sounds of Ahmeh bringing some reasoning back to the conversation kept me company as I slid back a few steps. I quietly withdrew my belt and sword and placed them about my waist. If I played my cards right, I could get me and the pilgrims to safety. Yester Wende was indeed a far off land, but I have yet to hear about any Cala Mormor Monasteries rising there. My belt and sword in place I longed for my armor back. It'd complete my gambit better than looking like a pilgrim that robbed a crusader.

"So we are back to hostile negotiations even though we paid you everything we have?" Bethany sounded sorely put off.

"Sea faring is not for the faint hearted or shallow funded." Captain Tilson said.

Before anyone else could speak I stepped into the room and took up my most imposing stance and tried to look less vagabond and more authoritative. Captain Tilson eyed me, his graying Jaguar fur contrasting with his yellow eyes and he looked completely bewildered to see me. The other two at the table, sounded like Humarans but beyond that it was hard to tell what they were. The each wore heavy cloaks with deep hoods. Upon those hoods were attached feline ears, and to peer into the deep shadows of those hoods, a very rough looking muzzle with sickly looking fur was seen. Each wore full gloves on their hands and I saw tails upon them that didn't match well with the muzzle and ears.

"Who the hell are you?" the nearest cloak clad oddity spoke with the voice of Bethany. A small pistol was in her hand as she spoke.

The other cloak wearer, Ahmeh, I assumed reached over and put a hand on the pistol to lower it. "Bethany, the Felissii wears a Crusaders belt and sword." She hissed. Her hood turned in my direction. "So, the Crusaders of the Golden Crosses are here. May we discuss things or do we need to leave another town curious about missing people?"

"Yes, the Crusaders are here and I seek a voyage with an able captain, ship and crew. I have a group of pilgrims seeking to be the pioneers to a new Monastery planned in Yester Wende. Captain Tilson is a very apt captain with a well trained crew." I spun my lies.

Both ladies shifted their hoods to look at Captain Tilson then back to me. "You are not after us then?" Ahmeh spoke.

I gave my best relaxed laugh and cocked one hip, hand on thigh. "Maybe other monasteries are, maybe they aren't. I am not from one seeking your heads if that is the concern. I merely want a ship and passage to Yester Wende."

Captain Tilson slightly raised his eyebrows and worked his muzzle a moment before speaking. "A charter from the Crusaders to Yester Wende. Well, I cannot say no to that, assuming you have the retaining fee and the rest upon my arrival to this, new monastery you say?"

"My entire Belt of Mercy and the pooled offerings and tributes of my pilgrims. They have been given a pardon to arrive at that Station of Mercy as poor in the world and rich in faith. Do we have a deal?" I asked.

He looked back to the cloaked women then to me. "If you do not mind two additional passengers bound for the same port, I believe we can make arrangements. Next high tide we sail, little under an hour. Be on my ship, all of you, or you'll be swimming to Yester Wende."

The ladies nodded sharply and the pistol vanished. They stood, and stared at me for a long, silent moment. I swear one of them had piercing green eyes that sparked in the darkness. I watched them without another word as they slipped close by me and out of the room. Their boots thumped on the wood deck until they faded into the common room and the rowdy singing. I turned to face Captain Tilson and he kicked a chair out for me to sit. He worked some loose tobacco into a pipe carved from pilmoo horn into the shape of some monstrous sea beast and lit it with a match. After a few long puffs to work up a sweet smelling smoke he settled his gaze solidly on me.

"Trisha Talon. My what the cat drags into this tavern on the rising tides. I thought you'd be dead by now. Stelphin has his whiskers in a knot gunning for your head. You've left his command with a pretty dark mark at the Madesto Monastery." He said and blew out a ring of bluish white smoke.

I took the seat and settled into it. "Not many Felissii like being caught rolling in fields of catnip when they should be tending to the flock of followers. He's only mad because I called him a hollow man with the bishop's hand for a spine. He took enough of their rotaran. Not my fault his greed placed him in scrutiny of the Mormor Monastery during his last crusade. The Crusaders may be rotting but they still have to keep up a public and just face."

"Bah, public and just. I spit on their queens and kick their kittens." He said with a shimmer of sharp feline fangs. "Public and just was not setting your family up. The only public and just thing they did was ending your father's shame and misery with the headsman's axe. Did you ever find who funded his death?"

The talk of my father sent a river of deep seated anger into my belly with a few boulders of sadness and loss. My fingers gouged thin ribbons of wood from the table as my claws bore the brunt of my tension.

" If I had only know that the Eye of the True One was a fake." I hissed.

"You'd have done what? Kicked the bad man in the shins? True Way be blind, Trisha, you were but a young kitten still gawking at boys and harassing your poor mother. Bless her dear soul, she was a sweet Tabby." He said.

"I know." I said in frustration. "My whole family name runs into the mud on falsehoods. We were better off as hunters, ranchers and farming. If it wasn't for that storm." I shook my head slowly and leaned back.

"Nature has a nasty habit of correcting the world around it. That storm let you kick the balls of every greedy, thin shelled Crusader in public. You'll find your fathers true killer one day. Which brings me to the real tidal wave. You fed me a load of pilmoo manure in front of two clients. I know you Trisha. Spill it." He said and puffed out more rings.

"I'm not lying about needing passage to Yester Wende." I said.

"But we both know the Order wouldn't have a monastery in Yester Wende. That lot up there are mixed and free thinkers. Not the easily befuddled Felissii that sleep in caves and hear voices." He said.

"Careful just how far you mock what I once believed. I may be reconsidering things, but some comments still brook a fevered desire to punch people in the muzzle. I heard the conversation you had with, what were they?" I asked.

"They, are passengers on my ship, and they are my business, not yours kitten. Trisha, cut the tripe and wallowing. I know you're on the run from Stelphin. Many don't like eternal enslavement. But that's not something you'd want to risk a month long voyage to avoid. And this bit about pilgrims? I thought you were stripped. In fact that sword should be in the monastery." He said and pointed at my belt and rapier with the stem of his pipe.

"I am stripped. I stole my father's sword back and my armor." I muttered.

"What? By the True Way you just look for trouble. Did the anguish and dishonor you put your parents through as a little thief not teach you a thing? How many times were you tossed into a cell in Madesto? What about the theft of that higo that landed you in hot water with Stelphin?" He said.

"If Stelphin wanted to leave his higo loosely tethered on the road while he took relief in the bushes, he has only himself to blame. That higo sold well." I protested.

"And you wound up before the Monastery, you're hands or head on the line for payment. You're father must have done something to pull you out of that mess." He said.

"Yeah. I was given a choice. Go off to be a servant for one of the local priests or commit myself into training as a crusader." I said.

"Return the items, Trisha, beg forgiveness and go be a servant. You'll do well. Make someone happy to have you as eye candy or a mistress on the sly." He tapped out the spent tobacco and loaded in more.

"I will not return family property taken by impossible demands." I hissed. "And I have blood on my blade."

Captain Tilson froze a moment in his tamping then leaned back with the pipe unlit. "Trisha, I am grateful for the day you pulled my boy Thesen from the fire he got himself into. I am grateful for the protection you've offered my ship and crew as you waited for pilgrimages. I am grateful to have known your father and mother. Grateful to know you. But I cannot give you passage if you have blood on your blade. I cannot harbor an accused murderer."

"I've not been accused, yet." I said. I proceeded to explain my moonlit run and descent into Port Tabitha, the crusaders, the conflict and the end result.

"Calipo and Rolphio, they were merely twenty in years. Trisha, they were your trainees." He said.

"They were no longer my trainees when they stole from me. No longer my trainees when they turned to robbing pilgrims." My head bowed. "No long my trainees for killing a young man to extort money out of pilgrims."

He worked his muzzle in silence as he chewed on my words, and then slowly relit his pipe again. "It'll be dangerous Trisha. I'm not fond of sailing myself right now, but I can't pass up the coin if it is good and you are dead where you sit." He rubbed his face a bit. "It'll be a long trek. Will have to skirt near the Unknown Lands. Some of our passengers are keen to avoid Humaran Ships."

"The Unknown Lands? I thought they were a myth?" I said.

"No myth about a place that swallows anyone that sails too close. I hear its sharks of massive size. Squids maybe. Mythical sea beasts. Whatever the jawing that speaks of those lands, ships are never seen when they are near it." He said.

"Well it'll definitely keep Stelphin off of me if the trek is that dangerous." I stood. "An hour then. I'll gather what rotaran we have and it's yours." I put out my hand.

He grabbed my forearm and we shook on the agreement. "One hour Trisha. Best hurry. The local crusaders are looking for others as well. No longer safe to stay in port."

Captain Tilson gave me a chuckle and I left the room.