Heard Over a Cup of Grog

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A news clipping from The Poison Pen.

Author’s note: On a recent evening I was winding down in the Seaside Inn, as is my want from time to time, when I overheard a most curious conversation. To be frank, I do not know what to make of it, nor know if it is of any passing import. Yet, at the same time, it is too strange to wholly set aside. I share my experience here in hopes that some reader can shed light on these strange events. As always, correspondence may be sent via the Editor.

It was a couple hours after sundown as I sat at my usual table in the corner, nursing my cup of grog. Bob had retired for the night and the constable was asleep at a table, practically in his bowl of fish stew. The innkeeper and the old fisherman were having a friendly argument over whether the improved speed of ferry service from Captain Meryl’s ship would result in any tangible economic improvement for the town (though not quite in those terms). All-in-all, it was a typical night in quiet Seaside.

From my vantage point I only saw the back of the tall hooded figure that entered the common room. From the reaction I read on the innkeeper’s face, I knew this person was unknown to him. His expression quickly turned inviting as he said, “Welcome to Seaside, friend. Pull up a stool. What’ll you have – no, no you don’t want a menu. Grog and fish stew for you.” To this the stranger merely nodded ascent. The promised fare was provided, but the stranger made no movement toward it. Instead, after an uncomfortable pause, the stranger pulled two items from his cloak -- a coin purse and a dark piece of cloth, both of which he set upon the bar.

In a gravelly voice he inquired, “Have you before seen such an ensign?”

“Ne’er, m’lord,” the innkeeper quickly said, but the old fisherman caught his breath. The stranger looked to the fisherman and held up the cloth.

“Know you this?” pressed the stranger.

“Aye,” came the slow reply. “Once only. I had all but forgotten – ‘twas so long ago…” At this the stranger sat up, turned bodily, and fixed a most curious intensity on the fisherman, who continued with any hint of caution now absent, “I was a young man when I saw it flying from a most odd vessel. In fact, most everything about that day was odd.”

“Rarely before or since have I seen a day as cloudless and calm as that. Even the waves were subdued. I was sitting at the dock, rod in hand, as I do from time to time.” At this the innkeeper barked a laugh and received a quick glance in return.

“So it was the day I saw that pennant appear over the horizon and make its way along the coast. In due course, I could make out the emblem set against that sable field: the golden image of a manticore resting on three legs, holding a balance in its fourth. But my thoughts did not stop to consider the newness of the ensign, for I was too puzzled by the ship itself – the design of which was unfamiliar.”

“Even at that, I had little time to consider before the ship swiftly reached the dock and, with an unparalleled efficiency, its crew had tied off and lowered the boarding plank. A middle aged woman in elegant but practical robes descended and began extolling something with import that I could not understand a word of. At my blank stare and open mouth she ceased trying and presented a


parchment. This was filled with beautiful flowing letters that were equally meaningless to me. I shrugged helplessly and she became openly agitated. She called back to the ship and three young lads appeared. She spoke briefly to them and was providing each with a parchment when we heard shouting from the cliffs to the northwest. There we spied a figure descend the steps and run across the beach.”

“The figure slowed as it approached and I could see that he was a rather rough looking man, wearing a gray cloak and sporting a reddish-brown beard. His eyes were wide and mouth agape as he crossed town, but when his gaze lighted from ship to woman he again ran until he had locked the woman in a tight embrace and spun her about once or twice. What nonsense – the fellow was even crying.”

“Then followed the back-and-forth of quick conversation in the foreign tongue, until suddenly the air changed and the fellow fell to the ground, fists balled and weeping. The woman knelt down and spoke further. The man quickly regained composure and stood with a look of grim determination. He turned and began north toward the road but was stopped by the touch of the woman’s hand on his arm. He did not turn as she spoke more hurriedly than before. When she was again silent he closed his eyes for a moment and turned back.”

“Only then did the man take note of me with a smirk. ‘I have need of a quill,’ said he in the common tongue. So, I turned toward Bob’s to fetch one, but indeed there stood Bob already with quill and ink at hand – had he been there a moment ago? I swear not.”

“The man took the writing implement and swiftly scribbled a note. He then looked to me, frowned, and turned to Bob. ‘How many skiffs have I bought from you? You know me. I honor my word,’ said he with gravity. ‘This message must reach the Sanctuary. Find there one with eyes piercing-blue and hair silver-gray. She will give you ten times a skiff’s price for this word from me.’ At this he turned and looked up the road for a still moment, then turned and boarded the ship.”

“The vessel was soon away, Bob headed north along the Great Western Road, and I baited my hook once more. All was back to normal --- except… Not two minutes passed and I saw Bob come out of his shop. I looked north, saw nothing, and returned my perplexed gaze to Bob. ‘I thought you had gone north,’ said I. With a chortle he replied, ‘I think you’ve had too much sun this cloudless day. Go home and lie down.’ I thought then he was playing me a fool, yet ever since he has always denied even seeing the strange ship.”

The fisherman slumped down and became quiet. Only then did my shock register, for I had never heard him utter more than a phrase or two at a go. So paralyzed was I by this demeanor change and the oddities of the tale that I did not even notice the stranger’s passing from the inn. The purse of coins remained but the cloth ensign was gone.