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i_read_what2021-08-20 07:55 pm
kalinara) wrote in i_read_what2021-08-20 07:55 pm
Luck in the Shadows - Chapter Ten
It looks like the internet trouble may not be as dire as initially thought. So I can review after all! Hopefully it lasts!
So anyway, last time Captain Rhal began his courtship, Alec learned the art of proactive cockblocking and Seregil's mental state might be taking a turn for the worse. This could be a problem!
We rejoin Seregil as he wakes up from another nightmare. No description this time, but I think we get the gist. And indeed, Alec recognizes the signs. Seregil has him hold the mirror while he gets his Lady Gwethelyn face on, but his trouble is definitely visible in the bruised circles under his eyes and his unsteady hand.
Wisely, he decides that the good lady will be keeping to her cabin today. It's a good opportunity to further Alec's training: he should learn to read!
...I feel like that would probably take a while. But I do agree with Seregil that it's a good skill to have. And indeed, Alec asks if it's difficult. Seregil notes that Alec has caught onto everything else (true, I even mildly criticized that), and once he knows letters and numbers it should come pretty quickly.
Seregil does decide to make an appearance on deck. He could use the fresh air, and well, if the captain sees how bad he looks, he might leave them alone.
So anyway, it's snowing, which means the sound is deadened and visibility is very bad. Rhal is giving several orders at once and I appreciate again that while he's in a fairly comedic role in this plotline, he does seem to be quite competent. And he's so busy for once that he doesn't really have much time to spare for Gwethelyn, aside from agreeing with her choice to stay below. Cat like, Seregil doesn't know whether to feel happy or insulted about that.
Unfortunately, the brief amusement doesn't last long. The hallucinations happen again: Seregil sees a slithering mass in his porridge bowl and smells some kind of stench in the teapot. Always practical, Alec comes back with bread and water and coaxes him to eat. Even that doesn't go very well, as maggots appear in the bread. Alec is encouraged to eat his meals elsewhere until this is over.
Poor kid. This isn't Seregil's fault, of course, but this is a LOT for a newbie to deal with.
But hey, reading and writing lesson! Yay!
Fortunately, the Skalan written language seems to be phonetic in nature, so that makes things a bit easier to learn characters and sound. He has no idea how to hold a quill though, so ends up covered in ink. I rather like that bit, it's a detail we often forget.
So anyway, Alec indeed takes to writing as fast as he's taken to everything else:
Alec watched all this with growing interest. “That word there; that means me?”
“It means anyone named Alec.”
“And this is ‘bow.’ It’s as if these little marks have power. I look at them and the things they stand for just pop into my head, like magic. That one there doesn’t look anything like a bow, yet now that I know the sounds of the letters, I can’t look at it without seeing a bow in my head.”
“Try this.” Seregil wrote out ‘Alec’s Black Radly bow’ and read it aloud, pointing to each word in turn.
Alec followed along, grinning. “Now I picture my own bow. Is it magic?”
Alec really does have an interesting way of looking at the world. Anyway, Seregil turns this into a bit of a civics lesson:
Still, you have to be careful. Words can lie, or be misunderstood. Words don’t have magic, but they have power.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, the mayor of Wolde wrote a letter to the mayor of Boersby and it said something like ‘Aren Windover and his apprentice stole my money. Capture them and I’ll reward you.’ Because the mayor of Boersby knows the mayor of Wolde, he reads and believes. Did we steal the money?”
“No, we just went through those rooms and you—”
“Yes, yes,” Seregil snapped, cutting him short. “But the point is that a few words on a piece of paper were all it took to convince the mayor of Boersby that we did!”
It's a helpful lesson, but not necessarily the most helpful teaching style. Seregil is all but shouting by the end, and Alec is shrinking back, expecting a blow. I'm reminded that it's been all of a few days since the poor kid was being tortured in a cell. Seregil recognizes that his sudden pain and anger isn't normal and makes an effort to calmly ask Alec to go above for a bit. Which he does.
That might not have been the best idea, because it seems like now that he's alone, the violent impulses are even worse and he finds himself driving his penknife into the table with so much force that it breaks. Seregil might be going insane.
-
Above deck, poor Alec is hurt and confused. Up until now, Seregil had been kind, good-humored and generous. Now he's suddenly cold. But Alec is an empathetic guy, and once the initial shock fades, he is worried more than angry. He realizes Seregil was probably trying to warn him about this. It doesn't fit his past behavior or the conversation Alec had had with Micum.
Honestly, while I really like this plotline and I think it's a great way to allow Alec to come into his own as a more equal (albeit junior) partner, if I were Ms. Flewelling's editor, I would have advised her to postpone this for a few more chapters, so as to strengthen the new dynamic between the characters.
They're still very new to each other. Which means that Alec hasn't quite developed enough dependence on Seregil as a mentor, or personal loyalty to Seregil as a person. He's grateful to Seregil for saving him, and for the bow, but that can only go so far. Basically, the problem is that Alec's had enough time to LIKE Seregil, but not necessarily to trust him. And trust is the key reason that Alec is willing to give Seregil the benefit of the doubt over his sudden erratic behavior.
But anyway, Alec has decided that Seregil isn't to blame for his behavior. He reminds himself that Seregil didn't have to save him from Asengai, and that he'd promised to stand by him.
But that's not easy. We move forward a bit. It's night time. Alec is wandering the deck. Apparently Seregil has been unable to eat and gotten more and more irritable and agitated. He finally ordered Alec out.
It's too cold to sleep above, so he hovers to the companionway. Rhal is pretty surprised to see him there, but fortunately, Alec had been rehearsing a lie, claiming that his snoring had been disturbing his mistress and that's why he's out here. Rhal, surprisingly decent, offers his own bunk since it looks like he won't be needing it in the weather.
Unfortunately, Seregil chooses this moment to cry out. Rhal pushes Alec aside and kicks the door open and...oops:
Haggard and white, Seregil stood swaying in the far corner, sword in hand. His nightgown was torn down the front, effectively dashing any illusion of Lady Gwethelyn. For a moment it looked as if he might attack. Instead, he shook his head slightly and tossed his sword down on the bunk. Waving one thin hand, he motioned for them to enter. Alec moved to Seregil’s side. Rhal remained where he was by the broken door.
Actually, to be fair, Rhal takes this rather well. He's angry at being duped but mostly concerned with the danger to his crew. He asks why he was chosen, as they weren't the only ship in town. Seregil explains that Rhal is known to have no love for Plenimar.
“That’s true enough.” Rhal took another long look at him. “I see what it is you’re aiming to make me believe. Assuming I buy it, which isn’t saying I do, it still doesn’t explain all the mummery that’s gone on since you came aboard. You’ve played me for a cully, and I don’t care much for that!”
Seregil dropped wearily onto the bunk. “I’m not going to explain my motives; they don’t concern you. As for your attentions to the late Lady Gwethelyn, the boy and I both did everything we could to discourage you.”
“I’ll grant that, I suppose, but it’s still my inclination to escort the pair of you over the side.”
Seregil points out that he'd have a lot of explaining to do if he did. Rhal admits that if the men find out, the story will spread pretty much everywhere. But Seregil has a counter offer: the ship is due to dock at a place called Torburn tomorrow. He and Alec will disembark there. Rhal takes him up on that, and leaves in a huff.
Afterward, Seregil admits that this was pretty fucking embarrassing, and it's not easy to face down an angry sailor while wearing a woman's nightgown. Alec is still shocked that Seregil had thrown away his sword (which he did, at the start of the scene.) Seregil explains that if he'd kept the sword, they'd have fought, and there was no good result there. If they defeated the Captain, the crew would take it badly. If they lost, well. It'd still have been bad. So Alec gets the lesson that it's generally better to talk your way out of trouble.
Also, Seregil has recognized that Rhal is pretty intelligent and shrewd when women aren't involved. He could be helpful in the future.
So why DID Seregil scream? Another nightmare. And he's forced to think about what might have happened if Alec had been in the room with him. Not good. And worse: his nightgown shifts, showing a strange red mark on his chest, beneath the wooden amulet. When Alec goes to look, Seregil shoves him away roughly and orders him to bed.
This following bit is great, and short, so I'll give you the whole bit:
Hunched in his alcove much later that night, Alec heard Seregil stir.
“Alec, you awake?”
“Yes.”
A long pause followed, then, “I’m sorry.”
“I know.” Alec had been thinking and already had the beginnings of a plan. “Micum said you know a wizard at Rhíminee. Do you think he could help you?”
“If he can’t, then I don’t know who can.” There was another pause. Alec heard something like a dark chuckle, and the sound raised the hair on the back of his neck.
“Alec?”
“Yes?”
“Be careful, will you? Tonight, for just an instant—”
Alec tightened his grip on the sword lying across his knees. “It’s all right, now. Go back to sleep.”
It strikes me that, for all of his sweetness and inexperience, Alec is far more practical than Seregil. I believe that Alec can and will defend himself with that sword if he absolutely has to. I think he'd regret it. I think he'd be sad and devastated. But I think he could. I'm not sure I think Seregil could do the same if their positions were reversed.
Anyway, they do end up debarking. But as they go, Seregil does slip a small silk square containing his garnet ring into Rhal's palm. We close out the chapter with Rhal thinking bemusedly about his strange passengers.
Personally, I just wonder how far they are from Rhiminee.
So anyway, last time Captain Rhal began his courtship, Alec learned the art of proactive cockblocking and Seregil's mental state might be taking a turn for the worse. This could be a problem!
We rejoin Seregil as he wakes up from another nightmare. No description this time, but I think we get the gist. And indeed, Alec recognizes the signs. Seregil has him hold the mirror while he gets his Lady Gwethelyn face on, but his trouble is definitely visible in the bruised circles under his eyes and his unsteady hand.
Wisely, he decides that the good lady will be keeping to her cabin today. It's a good opportunity to further Alec's training: he should learn to read!
...I feel like that would probably take a while. But I do agree with Seregil that it's a good skill to have. And indeed, Alec asks if it's difficult. Seregil notes that Alec has caught onto everything else (true, I even mildly criticized that), and once he knows letters and numbers it should come pretty quickly.
Seregil does decide to make an appearance on deck. He could use the fresh air, and well, if the captain sees how bad he looks, he might leave them alone.
So anyway, it's snowing, which means the sound is deadened and visibility is very bad. Rhal is giving several orders at once and I appreciate again that while he's in a fairly comedic role in this plotline, he does seem to be quite competent. And he's so busy for once that he doesn't really have much time to spare for Gwethelyn, aside from agreeing with her choice to stay below. Cat like, Seregil doesn't know whether to feel happy or insulted about that.
Unfortunately, the brief amusement doesn't last long. The hallucinations happen again: Seregil sees a slithering mass in his porridge bowl and smells some kind of stench in the teapot. Always practical, Alec comes back with bread and water and coaxes him to eat. Even that doesn't go very well, as maggots appear in the bread. Alec is encouraged to eat his meals elsewhere until this is over.
Poor kid. This isn't Seregil's fault, of course, but this is a LOT for a newbie to deal with.
But hey, reading and writing lesson! Yay!
Fortunately, the Skalan written language seems to be phonetic in nature, so that makes things a bit easier to learn characters and sound. He has no idea how to hold a quill though, so ends up covered in ink. I rather like that bit, it's a detail we often forget.
So anyway, Alec indeed takes to writing as fast as he's taken to everything else:
Alec watched all this with growing interest. “That word there; that means me?”
“It means anyone named Alec.”
“And this is ‘bow.’ It’s as if these little marks have power. I look at them and the things they stand for just pop into my head, like magic. That one there doesn’t look anything like a bow, yet now that I know the sounds of the letters, I can’t look at it without seeing a bow in my head.”
“Try this.” Seregil wrote out ‘Alec’s Black Radly bow’ and read it aloud, pointing to each word in turn.
Alec followed along, grinning. “Now I picture my own bow. Is it magic?”
Alec really does have an interesting way of looking at the world. Anyway, Seregil turns this into a bit of a civics lesson:
Still, you have to be careful. Words can lie, or be misunderstood. Words don’t have magic, but they have power.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, the mayor of Wolde wrote a letter to the mayor of Boersby and it said something like ‘Aren Windover and his apprentice stole my money. Capture them and I’ll reward you.’ Because the mayor of Boersby knows the mayor of Wolde, he reads and believes. Did we steal the money?”
“No, we just went through those rooms and you—”
“Yes, yes,” Seregil snapped, cutting him short. “But the point is that a few words on a piece of paper were all it took to convince the mayor of Boersby that we did!”
It's a helpful lesson, but not necessarily the most helpful teaching style. Seregil is all but shouting by the end, and Alec is shrinking back, expecting a blow. I'm reminded that it's been all of a few days since the poor kid was being tortured in a cell. Seregil recognizes that his sudden pain and anger isn't normal and makes an effort to calmly ask Alec to go above for a bit. Which he does.
That might not have been the best idea, because it seems like now that he's alone, the violent impulses are even worse and he finds himself driving his penknife into the table with so much force that it breaks. Seregil might be going insane.
-
Above deck, poor Alec is hurt and confused. Up until now, Seregil had been kind, good-humored and generous. Now he's suddenly cold. But Alec is an empathetic guy, and once the initial shock fades, he is worried more than angry. He realizes Seregil was probably trying to warn him about this. It doesn't fit his past behavior or the conversation Alec had had with Micum.
Honestly, while I really like this plotline and I think it's a great way to allow Alec to come into his own as a more equal (albeit junior) partner, if I were Ms. Flewelling's editor, I would have advised her to postpone this for a few more chapters, so as to strengthen the new dynamic between the characters.
They're still very new to each other. Which means that Alec hasn't quite developed enough dependence on Seregil as a mentor, or personal loyalty to Seregil as a person. He's grateful to Seregil for saving him, and for the bow, but that can only go so far. Basically, the problem is that Alec's had enough time to LIKE Seregil, but not necessarily to trust him. And trust is the key reason that Alec is willing to give Seregil the benefit of the doubt over his sudden erratic behavior.
But anyway, Alec has decided that Seregil isn't to blame for his behavior. He reminds himself that Seregil didn't have to save him from Asengai, and that he'd promised to stand by him.
But that's not easy. We move forward a bit. It's night time. Alec is wandering the deck. Apparently Seregil has been unable to eat and gotten more and more irritable and agitated. He finally ordered Alec out.
It's too cold to sleep above, so he hovers to the companionway. Rhal is pretty surprised to see him there, but fortunately, Alec had been rehearsing a lie, claiming that his snoring had been disturbing his mistress and that's why he's out here. Rhal, surprisingly decent, offers his own bunk since it looks like he won't be needing it in the weather.
Unfortunately, Seregil chooses this moment to cry out. Rhal pushes Alec aside and kicks the door open and...oops:
Haggard and white, Seregil stood swaying in the far corner, sword in hand. His nightgown was torn down the front, effectively dashing any illusion of Lady Gwethelyn. For a moment it looked as if he might attack. Instead, he shook his head slightly and tossed his sword down on the bunk. Waving one thin hand, he motioned for them to enter. Alec moved to Seregil’s side. Rhal remained where he was by the broken door.
Actually, to be fair, Rhal takes this rather well. He's angry at being duped but mostly concerned with the danger to his crew. He asks why he was chosen, as they weren't the only ship in town. Seregil explains that Rhal is known to have no love for Plenimar.
“That’s true enough.” Rhal took another long look at him. “I see what it is you’re aiming to make me believe. Assuming I buy it, which isn’t saying I do, it still doesn’t explain all the mummery that’s gone on since you came aboard. You’ve played me for a cully, and I don’t care much for that!”
Seregil dropped wearily onto the bunk. “I’m not going to explain my motives; they don’t concern you. As for your attentions to the late Lady Gwethelyn, the boy and I both did everything we could to discourage you.”
“I’ll grant that, I suppose, but it’s still my inclination to escort the pair of you over the side.”
Seregil points out that he'd have a lot of explaining to do if he did. Rhal admits that if the men find out, the story will spread pretty much everywhere. But Seregil has a counter offer: the ship is due to dock at a place called Torburn tomorrow. He and Alec will disembark there. Rhal takes him up on that, and leaves in a huff.
Afterward, Seregil admits that this was pretty fucking embarrassing, and it's not easy to face down an angry sailor while wearing a woman's nightgown. Alec is still shocked that Seregil had thrown away his sword (which he did, at the start of the scene.) Seregil explains that if he'd kept the sword, they'd have fought, and there was no good result there. If they defeated the Captain, the crew would take it badly. If they lost, well. It'd still have been bad. So Alec gets the lesson that it's generally better to talk your way out of trouble.
Also, Seregil has recognized that Rhal is pretty intelligent and shrewd when women aren't involved. He could be helpful in the future.
So why DID Seregil scream? Another nightmare. And he's forced to think about what might have happened if Alec had been in the room with him. Not good. And worse: his nightgown shifts, showing a strange red mark on his chest, beneath the wooden amulet. When Alec goes to look, Seregil shoves him away roughly and orders him to bed.
This following bit is great, and short, so I'll give you the whole bit:
Hunched in his alcove much later that night, Alec heard Seregil stir.
“Alec, you awake?”
“Yes.”
A long pause followed, then, “I’m sorry.”
“I know.” Alec had been thinking and already had the beginnings of a plan. “Micum said you know a wizard at Rhíminee. Do you think he could help you?”
“If he can’t, then I don’t know who can.” There was another pause. Alec heard something like a dark chuckle, and the sound raised the hair on the back of his neck.
“Alec?”
“Yes?”
“Be careful, will you? Tonight, for just an instant—”
Alec tightened his grip on the sword lying across his knees. “It’s all right, now. Go back to sleep.”
It strikes me that, for all of his sweetness and inexperience, Alec is far more practical than Seregil. I believe that Alec can and will defend himself with that sword if he absolutely has to. I think he'd regret it. I think he'd be sad and devastated. But I think he could. I'm not sure I think Seregil could do the same if their positions were reversed.
Anyway, they do end up debarking. But as they go, Seregil does slip a small silk square containing his garnet ring into Rhal's palm. We close out the chapter with Rhal thinking bemusedly about his strange passengers.
Personally, I just wonder how far they are from Rhiminee.