The trip to Furlin was uneventful, given the gravity of the mission. The room was the most luxurious I had ever seen. Rich, lush wood reflected light from every angle, making the ship glow from mast to anchor. Even Caspian had never had such amenities on his ships—but they were not hovels, oh no, never, under any standard. Caspian kept his ships in top order, and to insult them would be like insulting his very soul.
I know Pip would have loved this vessel. I could nigh imagine his face if he saw the magnitude and splendor of it. It would have been perfect for playing hide and seek—not to mention the delectable food. Ah, the food on this vessel was exceptional, to put it mildly.
Pip would have loved the pillows too—perfect for bashing each other right before bed. I'm sure even Comforter would have enjoyed seeing us bash the daylights out of them, simply for the joy of small things. I could tell by the way he had interacted with the Rooks just a few short days ago.
One morning, as rain picked away at the cabin windows, I was making the bed and my mind flittered to a memory. I remembered a time I was watching Pip while our parents were away. He was staying at my dwelling, and I had put him in my bed. We tossed pillows at each other until, after a few wild rounds, one split—sending feathers everywhere.
He looked worried I was going to tell his father, but I assured him absolutely not. Fathers like ours couldn't be bothered with ripped pillows; that was the realm for mothers, who were far more concerned with tidiness and the opinions of prying visitors.
At breakfast, Pip looked downtrodden about the pillow and barely touched his food. So we decided to take the shredded pillow to Tess. We found her wringing out trousers at the washing wall. She agreed to mend it—if he could catch a goose to refill the feathers.
All day long, Pip chased that goose. His determination was admirable. He pursued it for a good two hours without a break. He was an inventive little soul, even trying to coax the beast with bread—to no avail. Eventually, he didn't see a mudhole in front of him, and down he went. Hot tears of anger ran down his face, fueling deeper frustration.
"Are you not being a little rough on the lad?" I asked Tess as we watched him, laughing at his little legs scrambling after that goose.
She was quiet for a moment, then nodded. It seemed as though she was about to defend herself—but changed her mind.
"Grab the little wee, and tell him you both are invited to my house for dinner," she said, shaking her head. She was living on the Island of Despair because her parents had lost her brother, and Pip reminded her of him. Her father was overjoyed seeing him, scurrying about the village, and when it came to holidays, Pip was the most spoiled.
We headed off to dinner, and her mother made the best roast goose we ever had. The irony was not lost on Pip. It was justice for the long day, and Tess handed him the feathers, with a needle and thread. Pip was more careful with pillows after that, though even I was tempted to test the mettle of the new ones on him—just for a story to tell.
Tess would have loved the sheets aboard this ship. They were pure silk and smelled of lemon flowers mingled with mint. She always made the best soaps and always infused her wash water with mint. I was shocked that bees didn't simply dine on it—it was that sweet. Her washing wall drew more Gnaggins than any other for fifty miles.
There were rooms upon rooms upon rooms. As I was thinking about the sheer number of them, I realized Comforter and I were the only passengers. I didn't ask why. I didn't want the Captain to think he was running low on customers.
Comforter seemed to have a secret. I couldn't quite place it, but anything he needed—anything—the Captain somehow had ready before the request was even made.
I found this odd, but said nothing. I knew my place was to serve—after all, I was still in training.
I loved chatting with the chef. What is a journey without good food, after all? Gertrude had given us far more than we needed. But if foul weather kept us in port, we'd have devoured it all in no time. Some ports have nothing more than a lighthouse—everything else lost to flooding. I was so thankful to have the extra provisions on board.
As the journey lingered over the seas, I was feeling much better from my battle with pride, the pain over my heart was no longer there, and I found myself in the ship's library studying. Nothing in particular mind you, but just to stay sharp and to keep boredom at bay.
I was enthralled in some story about a boy and a giant when the Captain announced we would be arriving in Furlin, in just a few hours.
I put the book I had been reading into the drawer of a desk and wiped my palms thoroughly on my sides. Deciding it was best to stay busy, I made haste to assist the dockhands in readying the ship to dock. I needed the distraction. They beamed at me as I helped, as the
Comforter, leaned over the railing and watched in peace. He sipped on mulled cider and just looked to the sky and absorbed warm sunshine on his face. He stretched and then stood by the ganglanks moments before we disembarked. He was the first one off.
"Come on, Rune, our mission now commences." He said in a calm tone as he motioned me to follow. I forced my feet to move, with determined steps, and a prayer under my breath, sheer duty and honour reeled me off the boat.