“A few weeks later, when we were about to leave the port of Aime, he spoke to me again. He pointed to a smaller ship and said they were looking for crew. I thanked him for telling me, but stayed on. Others got off and I felt proud of myself for not giving in.”
Old Grim stopped as a serving boy placed three fresh goblets on the table. He drank deeply, sighed, then scratched his head.
“Where was I?”
“The boy warned you a second time,” Limma said.
He stared at her in surprise. She smiled knowingly, but said nothing. Grim wiped his mouth and continued on.
“We were only out at sea a few days when the sky turned black and the wind began to scream at us. We couldn’t see more than a few strides. I heard the boy telling the captain that they were headed for rocks and should hove to starboard. He said it with such… authority. The captain cursed the boy and told him to get below decks.
“Next thing the boy appeared right in front of me. I could see he was angry. Furious as only an adult can be. It was such a strange thing to see in the face of someone so young.”
Grim paused. The memory was so vivid. He could still feel the ice in the wind and the fear in his guts, and see the boy’s face. Gulping a mouthful of drink, he concentrated on the comforting warmth it brought. The two listeners waited patiently.
“The boy dragged me to the dinghy. When I realized he wanted me to help him cut loose, I protested. He straightened up and looked me in the eye…” Grim mimicked the boy, fixing the woman with what he hoped was a convincingly firm stare, “… and he said: ‘I’ve warned you twice. I will warn you only once more. Leave this ship or you will not live another day.”
“And at that moment one of the bullies—a big hulk of a man—saw us. He gave a roar and went to strike the boy. His fist never found its target. The boy made the smallest movement, and the bully went backward. His head hit something and he stayed down.”
Grim smiled. “I stood there gaping at the boy. He gave me a big shove so I fell into the dinghy, then the ropes went and untied themselves. Next thing the dinghy and I were falling. We hit the water. I just lay there, more than a little stunned, looking up at the boy as the dinghy moved away from the ship like something was pushing it.”
Old Grim shook his head. “Never saw him again. The next day a flock of gulls followed me as I rowed to shore. That’s when it hit me who he was. Later I heard that the ship ran up on the rocks. Most of the crew died, but no one saw any boy. Not dead or living.”
The woman was smiling now. It gave Old Grim a bit of pleasure to see that. She enjoyed my story, he thought. I guess it doesn’t matter if she believes it or not.
“You’re a lucky man,” she said.
He lifted his mug and drank. “That I am. My luck changed from that day. By the time I’d worked my way home I had enough to buy a boat of my own.”
“So you did become a captain, after all,” she said, raising her mug to her mouth.
“Sure did.”
“But nobody believed your story.”
“None but my wife.”
“Are you sure?” Her eyes narrowed. “Have you never encountered anybody at all who knew the truth of your tale?”
He paused as he realized what he’d said was not entirely true. “There have been a few who seemed to take my word for it. Travellers, mostly. A young sailmaker told me recently he’d heard a trader up north tell a story like mine.”
“This trader met The Gull, too?”
“So he said. Reckoned he was attacked by raiders and a boy saved him.”
“Did he give you the trader’s name?”
“No, but the sailmaker lives up the coast from here.” He leaned forward. “Why are you so interested in The Gull?”
She smiled. “I want to find him.”
He laughed quietly. “Good luck. I get the feeling he’s the type who finds you, not the other way around.”
“I hope so.”
“What d’you want from him, then?”
“Advice.”
From her expression, he could tell she wasn’t going to say any more. Shrugging, he held up his empty mug. “Another drink, and I might remember the names of more