4.2 Wynemere

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Roused soon after dawn for her watch on deck, she went out into cold greyness, the wind still howling through the rigging and the spray still being flung across the deck. At least the water coming over onto the deck today had lessened. By late morning watch the wind had dropped even more, and she was tasked with helping to work bend new canvas to replace sails that had been ripped off, and in renewing ropes and fixing any of the other damages that had occurred. What she observed was that everyone had worked together extremely well during the storm, and the aftermath of it was no different- everyone worked toward the common goals. That wasn't to last too long though and Overvalley resumed giving attitude immediately. It had been a bad experience but Wynenere was glad it had happened. Next time, it wouldn't seem so bad. And she had kept steady, and for the most part, kept it together at a time of panic and stress. There was just the issue of thanking Overvalley for saving her from going overboard, but getting through the climbing and the storm on her very first day made her think that she would get to where she eventually wanted to be: as a proper protectorate mariner.

When the jobs were done and the wind settled, Kody was summoned to the Capitaine's cabin. She left after a quarter of an hour, with a smile on her face, returning to her cabin where Wynenere and Tanden were resting with a certain swagger in her walk. "It was a brave thing you did," Tanden said, "seems like you had some rum as a thank you, judging by the smell of it,"
Kody nodded. "A full glass!" she said happily- it was the first time she had ever tried the stuff.
"Don't let it go your head or anything, eh?" Tanden said.
"No of course not," Kody replied, the smile on her face broadcasted clearly in the tone of her voice. Wynenere simply looked out her porthole at the slate grey sky and heaving swells left behind by the storm.
"But do be careful, you never know if someone will feel jealous about you having been a hero." Wynenere snapper to attention, as that was exactly how she had felt the night before. "No one likes being bested, so just be careful," Tanden was giving honest advice.
"Maybe I'll be in with a chance with Capitaine's partner," she gave a little laugh which Wynemere did not like the sound of. Full of suggestion and inappropriateness. Maybe this was the rum talking, but Tanden didn't care.
"Won't be hearing any more rubbish where that came from, if you please," there was ice in her voice, despite the politeness of the words she used.
"Sorry," Kody replied, without a hint of sincerity in her voice. "I'm on watch now anyway, bye you two." She ssid, leaving the cabin and banging the door shut as she went.
"Not worth worrying about, her, but we need to show respect where respect is due, and Aima is one of the best to work for. Where I'm from, that would just not fly."
"Where are you from, if I may ask?"
"The North, a small hamlet in Wickshire."
"Sheep farmers?" Wynemere asked, and Flowerfield nodded.
"You didn't want to continue with that?"
Tanden sighed, "at first yes, but the sea always called to me, and as the second-youngest of seven, there were already enough siblings to carry on with the farm." Wynenere liked Tanden, looked up to her, and was pleased her cabin mate felt comfortable sharing a little bit about herself with her. They weren't so different really, both from small countryside farming villages, with dreams of being asea.

They returned to work shortly, Wynenere and Kody on deck learning some of the ropes and the things you did with them: downhauls, braces, gaskets, clewlines, buntlines, halliards, various kinds of rigging. There were hundreds of terms to learn, thousands maybe. While they received their lesson from the boatswain (another new word!), a small creature, blueish-grey with whirring silvery filmy wings flopped onto the deck right in front of them. Kody shrieked out of surprise, "What is that?"
"A flying fish! Look!" The Boatswain pointed to the water where the surface was breaking - hundreds of them launching themselves up into the air. "Must be a marlin or a swordfish around somewhere."
"Look!" Wynenere pointed to a hump of barnacled granite which heaved aloft just behind the flyers. It spouted lustily, letting a spray out into the air, a humpback whale. Not a moment later, another breached, leaping out of the water, landing on its broad back in an exuberant display of nature which ended in an eruption of white spray. It was so close to the ship that Wynenere thought she felt the spray on her face. A breaching whale. Another dream come true, and she felt her eyes moisten as she blinked out towards the horizon, a thin seam where the cloud canopy hemmed into the water plane. Tapered streams of sunlight flowed through cracks in the clouds, and Wynenere thought of the words of the song they sang at cast off, words that were to stay in her memory for ages after this first voyage, after she had spent years both loving and hating the sea, after the hardest work she would ever do and the quietest interludes she would ever know, and after she had fought battles with other mariners, with stormy waters, and herself.

When the wind is right, the canvas tight, that's paradise, you'll see.
innocence and tranquility,
upon the waves, you'll be free,
The serenity, the reverie, at sea is where I'll be.
But it's home, yes it's home that to my heart, holds the key.

Her thoughts were broken by the sudden raspy yell of the boatswain: "overboard!". One of the hands on the foremast had apparently lost his footing and gone crashing down into the water, landing on his back. Overvalley called for the lifeboat to be lowered immediately, and the young man, shrieked in agony as they loaded him up into it. By the time the lifeboat was hoisted up, he was dead, his back likely broken during the fall.
As soon as Capitaine's partner confirmed the death (Ah! He was the on-board doctor! Wynenere realised), and Capitaine pronounced it so, his body was taken to the sailmaster. Wynenere and Kody were sent there also, by Flowerfield. They watched as the master of canvas sewed a shroud around the body, using a hide shield to protect her hand while she poked holes in the material, threading the coffin, and attaching the weights to ensure it would sink. They were to hold a funeral as soon as the sewing was completed.
The Capitaine read a short excerpt from the sacred creed, and the shroud was slid off of a tilted board into his watery grave, under the Tainish banner, for which he had worked.

Although work resumed as before, Wynenere could not stop thinking about him, how sudden his death has been, agonizingly painful too if his cries were anything to judge by. Or maybe he has just been scared, because he knew he was dying. A simple mistake, a moment of carelessness or thoughtlessness, to which Wynemere was often prone during her daydreams, and she'd be a goner. While it happened even she had been daydreaming! This sailing business was no joke: it wasn't during bad weather that it had happened. There had been no gales, no ice, no waves, nothing out of ordinary, and it had happened so fast. The fall itself and the aftermath. Either way, it was horrifying. As was how fast they had gotten rid of him."Bad luck to keep a body onboard," Kody told her. "Mariners have all sorts of somewhat spiritualist beliefs,"

That afternoon the sun broke through, soon to be followed by a clear blue sky, and all sails were hoisted anew on a wind which seemed to push the memory of death and storm from everyone's mind, what a contrast. Wynenere was summoned to the helm, where Pickfordshelm had relieved Brushhill, so that she could get some sleep after having steered for much of the storm and night. Her second full day of sailing finished without anything extraordinary.

The next morning, she was finishing her watch shift as the morning began, she overheard Overvalley and Pickfordshelm on the deck below, unaware of where Wynemere was. "What's your opinion of the greens?"
"Will be decent mariners, sirma'am-... in time."
"I agree. I've watched them a great deal already, both on deck and aloft. At the wheel I found Wynemere particularly capable, with a good eye and a sensitive touch, able to respond well to the ship.' 'That's true,' overvalley said. "And Whitefalls took to the masts like a monkey. Surprising, both of them, one does not oft find such natural mariners. And there's been a request for any capable hands. We had it before we left, but I couldn't respond, as I wasn't sure how our trainees would turn out,"
Patience leant forward, her face bleak.
"What do you mean?"
'I've no doubt we can sign on more hands in Loutouse.'
'Yes, I agree. But what sort of hands?"
the first mariner asked, sounding suspicious. "I'd much welcome knowing them before I work with any Cassioni.' The Capitaine wagged a finger at her. 'You can't allow your personal prejudices to interfere here. That is not the way to command.' She stormed off.
A few moments later,
"Why did she even bother asking me?" She mumbled to no one in particular, yelling at the next hand who happened to cross her path. Wynenere wondered what was meant by what the Capitaine had said- a request for hands? What could that mean?
Under a clear blue sky later that afternoon, they neared land, and Wynenere, at the helm with Overvalley, heard for the first time proper, the welcome call of "Land Ho!"
The Capitaine Aima climbed up the shrouds and stared through a strange contraption called a looking lens. The Alvalerion was moving quickly under a strong, steady wind only a short while later that Wynemere made out the low-lying Cassioni coastline, with hazy mountains layering in the distance. She felt excitement at the first foreign land she had ever seen. Capitaine gave the call for all hands, so that the sails could be taken down, and another banner hoisted to indicate they wanted guidance. Then, the port came into view, with its jungle of masts. The Capitaine shut her looking lens with a slap. Wynenere's heart jumped even higher into her throat with excitement. Another stage of her adventure was about to begin.

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