laneys.info Beware of Yankees, drunks, and loose women.

A cool wind awakened Mason to another morning and caused him to stretch, letting his arms fall above his head and on the sandy beach. Exhaling, he smiled at the sounds of the waves quietly lapping around him.

"You're going to catch cold laying there like that," an unfamiliar female voice stated beyond his vision. He arched his neck upward and noticed the greying, long hair that drifted with the breeze behind the lithe, older frame and kind eyes.

"I'm fine, actually," he smiled. "I haven't been sick in years."

She nodded and continued buttoning her simple, tan blouse, then turned and walked up the beach. He finally sat up and followed her into the treeline and noticed the small hovel within. With a perfect view of the Valga, he couldn't think of anywhere better to build a home.
Gathering his clothes, he dressed and made his way towards the secluded home. A light grey smoke rose lazily from the chimney which protruded from the cabin built strongly of thick logs. He knocked lightly and waited until the weathered door opened to reveal the woman.

"I see you finally heeded my warning," she grinned.

"I did," he nodded, dark brown hair disheveled. "My name's Mason, by the way. Forgot to introduce myself earlier."

"Okay." An uncomfortable silence lingered between them.

"I, um. I was just wondering...how long have you lived here?"

"A while." Her impatience grew more apparent as time went on.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you," brown eyes glanced to the sea beyond the line of trees and wide stretch of sand. "It's just that you have picked the perfect place to build a home."

"Agreed." She sighed loudly. "You hungry?"

Mason turned back to her. "If it's not too much trouble, yes."

"If it was trouble, I wouldn't have asked." She turned and walked deeper into the modestly appointed home and he followed, closing the door behind him. It's warmth was apparent, making up for the chill of his hostess which must've found a way to balance somehow. Perhaps she didn't notice any more.

"I thank you. Do you need any help with anything?"

Amber eyes turned to him as she pulled two plates from a small shelf. "I'm fine." Nodding, he decided to keep his mouth shut for now and found a spot on the bench seat at the table and watched as she spooned out some light colored beans and meat in a thick sauce, pouring it over bread. Once done, she walked over and placed one in front of him and rounded the table and sat down.
The air was scented with the sea, drifting from her as she moved and he could smell it like a perfume. Realizing there were no utensils, he mimicked her and sopped up the meal with his fingers.

"This is delicious. What do you call it?"

Her eyes rose to his as she ate, sunlight picking out the creases around her mouth and eyes. "Farayn. Never had it before?"

"No, actually."

She shook her head in disgust, "Must be from Milford then".

"Yes, ma'am. First time to the sea. I had always heard of it from some of the sailors that came to the church. Talking of maidens that lived in it, saving some during bad storms. Navigators talked about the Lady's guidance through breaks in the stormclouds to guide them home." His smile grew wider as he spoke, in between bites. "Pretty amazing."

For the first time, he noticed her grin. "You looking to get on a ship?"

"I'm not sure yet," he shrugged. Amelia's face still haunted his dreams, wishing there was some way to save her from an older man. Thoughts of what she would have to endure in their private moments still made him sick.

"Certainly have the spark in your eyes when you talk about the Blue."

Mason looked at her from his nearly empty plate. "Yours too. How long have you been a sailor?"

"I was born to it, boy. My father and grandfather, uncles and cousins were all sailors. If you're not careful, it'll draw you in too and you'll never want to leave it. Mark me."

Not sure how much to reveal of what he had just recently done in the Valga; training under his new champion may not be something that everyone should be aware of, he grinned. "Is your ship at the port now?"

"No," she rose and headed to the darkened pot hanging over the fire for another helping. "The Jann have employed Kuzin mercenaries to burn most of them. I guess you hadn't heard of the invasion going on to the south."

"What," his immediate alarm spun him in on the hard wooden bench. "When?"

"They arrived two weeks ago and have taken Larkhall."

"I'm sure the king and his army will take care of this problem." His ignorance made her chuckle as she turned and walked back around the table to sit.

"You aren't well informed at all, are you? The king lost most of his army when they invaded the Macau Empire two years ago. There is little left beyond younger sons that were left behind, and the old."

"Arhus will help us defeat them," his resolve welled, knowing what had been drilled into his mind since he could remember.

She nodded and resumed eating. "No doubt. But at what cost? The Jann are here for revenge and they're not going to stop with just a town or two. I'm sure their leader has his eyes on Davos itself and we have little to stop them."

"I can help," though he would ignore Father George's warning if he went back to town. Many others would need to be saved from these barbarians.

"If you want to throw your life away, sure." His initial admiration for her soon turned to disdain.

"You've been a recluse for too long," he rose and carried his plate to the wash barrel and dipped it in.

"Excuse me?! Boy, I've seen more of this world than you'll ever know. I know what these people are capable of, I've seen it firsthand. Who do you think the Saqiran pirates got their tactics from? Or ship building techniques? Don't think for a second that just because they don't follow our gods that they're ignorant of warfare or knowledge. Most of their cities are better organized and cleaner than ours." The lively commentary grabbed his attention immediately and made him realize how little he knew of the world at large. "They're the ones that developed sailing by the stars at night. One of them can walk out and look up and tell you the time more accurately than an hourglass."

"Hmm," his moment of clarity was becoming a bit embarrassing. "I had no idea, you're right."

Straightening, she stood with the cleaned plate and walked towards him. "You've still got a lot of life ahead of you. Don't go charging into a fight that's not yours. Pick your battles and ensure you have at least one way out before committing to the sword."

Mason nodded and backed, allowing her to clean her own plate. "Good advice, thanks."

"That was free." Her mood softened as he replaced his dish on the shelf, standing it on end and against several more. Most of which he had a feeling had never been used.

"I really appreciate your hospitality. I should probably go."

"Go where," she asked as she dried her plate and replaced it next to his.

"Back to Milford. Father George won't be happy, but I've made a lot of friends there and he's an evil man."

"Thinking of a rescue then," she grinned, hands on hips.

Mason shook his head. "No, she's already gone and I can't fight a paladin."

Her brow furrowed. "Paladin's don't kidnap. What in the world are you talking about?"

"Amelia was chosen as a bride for the bishop of Sarkad. He's old enough to be her grandfather," his disgust fueled misting eyes.

Another grin supported sympathy. "Heart aches for a love lost. That's one of the oldest stories in the book." Amber eyes drifted away from him. "I know how that feels."

Wanting a diversion, he relaxed his fears and turned them to empathy instead. "What happened to him?"

Amber eyes rose again and she shook her head. "Nothing. You should get going, long road on foot."

"Okay," he acquiesced. "Thank you again for breakfast. Can I come see you again?"

A shrug, but he could see her interest in company. "Sure, I guess." Mason turned and headed for the door, opening it before glancing back to the older woman.

"I never did get your name."

"I know."

He grinned and walked out, leaving the door open as the smells of salty air mixed with pine as the breeze shifted. She followed him to the doorway and he could feel her eyes on him as he headed towards the port.

"Mason," she called, prompting to turn. "It's Amphelice."