Interlude 1

True to his word, Major Hubert, commander of the Fort of Port of Sardinia, allows the party to, for the most part, recover from their ordeal with the fire ship. Or rather, allows Werner De Rendall proper time for his burns to heal, which takes the better part of a month. Having taken up residence in the gambling den and rooming house The Treasure Hunt, De Rendall is provided regular visits by the army surgeons, who, while perhaps not so pleasant in appearance, or treatment, as the lovely ladies above The Crow’s Nest, do seem to know what to do; and with further administration by Riu, De Rendall is soon put to rights. It is only the loss of his third harpoon which sours his mood. Northern harpoons are hard to come by this far south.

The Treasure Hunt turns out to be an ideal, although somewhat pricey, place for all the party (save Nick Nab) to spend their days. Entertainment abounds, and while at some times the youth of the group is questioned, never is their silver; food, drink, and games are a’plenty, and the rooms, as compared to berth aboard ship, are well appointed. The party has arranged for their own, personal (albeit small) rooms, rather than the more communal and familiar hammocks hung beneath canvases on the back yard. Riu manages to introduce Noddy to the mysteries of “the bath”, which at first glance seems to Noddy to be a horrible practice, but after some prodding takes to as well as the next.

Company is never difficult as well, as the common and games rooms are always full of sailors just come ashore, and so up-to-date information on the state of war, accurate or not, is always available. Company of other sorts, rough and tumble in a different way, is also available for a price, as ladies of the night (or day) are aplenty in The Treasure Hunt.

While there is the occasional disagreement, brawling and the like is kept quite in check. Overseeing the establishment is the Lady Rees, a stout woman who during the day can be seen flitting in and out of her offices on the second floor, overlooking the games room. Lady Rees employs many burley men to act as muscle, and her word seems to command quite a measure of respect. Or at least actions of her in-house bouncers do. She does not interact with her patrons, although upon occasion she makes announcement from the balcony and corridor which perches about the dice.

It is not just the common sailor who comes to The Treasure Hunt. Some smaller rooms and tables are put aside for officers and more well off locals, and there is a regular coming and going by those that are clearly of the more established class of the Port. It becomes clear enough as well that some amount of money lending business is underway here as well, which Lady Rees seems to attend to, privately and personally. It is not overt, but also from available chatter a well known function of this place. Money is available. For a price it seems.

Once he establishes the lay of the land, Cosimo finds himself quite at home here, and tries his luck on many occasions at the dice tables. In the end he finds himself neither ahead nor behind, but the young man, after some initial reluctance from the staff, finds that he is accepted without much question in the more pedestrian back rooms of the house. Less accepted is his attempts to bring with him to the tables the young Suzette, daughter of Governor Francisco. But, in the end, he manages to entice her away from a more fancy gathering of pretty young things and accompany him to dance and place some dice. And any more play he may desire.

While Cosimo finds himself often late at night at the tables, Mani finds himself often early in morning at the training yard, brandishing sword and dagger, being beaten and bested by The Chronicler. Nonetheless, progress is being made.

--

Nick “Hob” Nab, on the other hand, enjoys none of these relative comforts and relaxations. He has disappeared on the cutter “Amada”, which left without warning the night before the Governor’s party. Indeed some of the first rumours and tales heard around the dice tables were of this ship, and its Captain, one Otto “Cut Close” De Guzman. De Guzman is known to be from the cold regions north of the capital, and expert navigator and sailor, and many accolades are told of his accomplishments in recent times. He seems to have hand-picked his crew from across much of the navy, all of whom keep close their ship, and their mouths, closed as to what they are doing.

For his part, Nick Nab is miserable for this first month. Soon after departing the Port, the discomforts began. First it was simple fatigue, with the most simple of tasks taking more and more effort, and more demanding tasks such as climbing the rigging being the worst. But then as the days wore on this became more than just tiredness, and transitioned to proper pain. Pain in the feet, legs, arms and hands, reaching into the very depths of his chest as well. He presented it to his shipmates and Captain as mere seasickness, and it was treated as such; a simple young landlubber not yet accustomed to the rise and fall of the Seas. While looked at as a weakness by his fellow sailors, they also saw determination in the young, frail and weak looking Nick.

Then, as strangely as the onset of this condition arrived, after that first month it began to subside. Not all at once, but slowly Nick seemed to become accustomed to, well, whatever this was. By the end of the second month, he felt as normal, and could better assume his duties.

--

With De Rendal recovered, those left back at port were finally assigned temporary positions on a supply ship, destined as it turned out to be bringing necessities to the island where the Southerners had set up a watch over the Channel Isles. Knowing of their interest in returning to this place, Major Hubert arranged for the youth to go as crew, but afforded some independence to them during unloading, so that they could make their own investigations regarding the cypher sought out by Riu. Sadly, no such writings could be found, and indeed by this time the site of the Southern encampment had been thoroughly scoured, and occupied, by the North, as it had been decided to use the hidden watch as a means to stand sentry above the channels for the safety of the North.

The party then wanted to go and revisit the mysterious black stone peak, but in this they were denied; it seemed that passage to and from the watch point was highly regulated. Not to be denied, the party went anyways at nighttime, slipping up the stone pathways to retrace their steps to the hidden perch. While they were able to reach it without being discovered or challenged, nothing new about the strange material was discovered. I was clear that the diggings they has made to reveal the surface and side of the strange rock had been covered over so as to hide it from view. Watchers remained on the peak itself, and discretion prevented further re-exploration there.

--

Upon return to the Port, the party’s hope to visit The Academy seemed to have to be put on hold. New orders had arrived from the Admiralty. The Northern Navy was to cease excursions towards the south, or west, and instead concentrate their fleet to barricade and isolate the Channel Islands and Northern Coast from the marauding ships of the south. What was spoken of in some whispers among the men of the Navy was now proving to be quite true; the South was in command of the Seas, and the value of the more powerful and bigger ships of the North was in a defensive role to protect the Northern shores and resources. En masse they could defend against the nimbler South, but to reach out too far from the safety and supply of known friendly ports was a losing strategy. Already too many ships of the line had been lost to ambush, and even some coastal towns had seen some bombardment from Southern ships.

Irrespective of complaint from The Chronicler, these tightened rules of engagement were quickly adhered to by the Captains of the Northern fleet, and under the direction of Major Hubert the forces in his port were relegated to picket duty along the southern edge of the Channel Islands, and also to ensure safe passage of goods to and from the Mainland. As such, the party was assigned to various ships and various duties, under the command of various Captains, as needs seemed fit. True to his word, the Major kept the party together in these assignments, and while there was some action to be seen against the Southern Fleet on occasions, none of these resulted in any significant prize or outcome. Most were probing attacks by the South, and the strict orders of the Northern Captains was to intercept and intercede, but not pursue.

So, while many shipboard skills and experience were gained by all, no fortunes or glory were earned.

The one exception to this rather busy but unproductive time aboard ship was an opportunity to accompany a ship carrying a cargo of slaves and dried peas to the Capital. While under strict orders to remain aboard, the party nonetheless slipped ashore during the nighttime, and using the secret smuggling passageway made their way up to the basement of The Crow’s Nest. This travel proved uneventful; there seemed to have been no disturbance of the passageway since they used it last (although Noddy was pretty sure it had been used since, as the position of the carts had been moved). Upon arriving, they were greeted with some amazement and surprise by Barleyman, who upon seeing them was happy his passageway remained a secret.

His news was not, however, not happy. Soon after their departure, his steady customer Randolph had packed up and left, and while he was on occasion able to rent out the side room for gatherings it was not the steady income to which he had become accustomed. Worse, however, was that priests of The Divinity had shown up soon thereafter, demanding to see the boys who were known to be working and staying at the tavern. Upon finding the party to be gone the priests became angered, and began to search the entirety of the tavern.

At this point, Mistress Mary and Mistress Clara made themselves known, and demanded to know why the tavern was being turned upside down. A great argument erupted between the ladies and the priests, and while there was no actual conflict the end result was that the two healers were marched off by the priests and some soldiers, accompanied by a young red-headed man. Neither Mary nor Clara have since returned.

--

While this lack of serious adventure befell all others in the party, Nick Nab’s experience was quite the opposite. The “Amada” was kept apart from these more banal duties (whether on purpose or due to the judgment of Captain De Guzman) and continued to make excursions deep into the South, and on occasion on the extreme western edge of the Channel Islands. Engagements in the Islands were not so dangerous; there were other Northern ships about and the excellent skills of the crew of the “Amada” allowed for it to retreat into the narrow channel to escape if needed. But those few excursions south were perilous, indeed some good fortune was needed for escape on occasion. But De Guzman's recklessness was, regardless, unsuccessful. He had made it clear that his goal was to capture one of these so-called “Wind Lords”, those mysterious figures seen aboard some ships of the South. Or to discover where they came from. In both tasks he was unsuccessful.

De Guzman took the slight and weak Nick Nab under his wing, and in his dubious role as “Captain’s Mate” Nick was taught, and observed, all sorts of naval tactics and navigation. For his part, Nick seemed for once to be at ease. Of note, the “Amada” did not count among its complement any member of the Divinity. Nick didn’t know why, nor did he ask.

The “Amada”, as much as possible, avoided going to port. Being small and nimble, resupply was often done ashore, on a quiet beach or even river mouth. At more than one point De Guzeman ordered his ship to be careened in some out of the way place, removing all manner of barnacles and shipworm from its hull to maintain its speed.

--

In total, a full two years of time has passed since the party arrived in the Port of Sardinia. Other than the above, most of the rest of the time was spent aboard ship, literally “learning the ropes”.

On a final note, Prelate Nicholas, true to his word, has been preaching most mornings on the beach at the Port. On many days, however, he continues to overly take to drink. Nevertheless, when sober, he is a fiery speaker, and has a great many admirers among the more pious of the sailors when ashore. What supports him you do not know, as surely his share of the prize money has long since been pissed away.