Chapter 2 – Part 11

Delegado entered his cabin. He had no desire to stay in the corridor where he might accidentally hear – well, he had no desire to stay in the corridor. And as he also had no desire to knock on Thomas’ door and strike up a chat, that left his cabin or the mess, and he wasn’t hungry.

His cabin was set up much as Ois’ was, and probably as Thomas’ was, too, although he had not seen the inside of the cabin taken by the half-daelkyr. The major differences were a bird stand, on which Feather was resting, and a mirror bolted to the wall. Ois’ room had a mirror, but it was in her drawers. He probably should have taken it out, but he hadn’t thought of it when he was in her room. It had been enough of a relief to see her awaken, and there had been so many details to tell…

Something bothered him, and he pushed the thought away. He had trouble focusing on the Captain. He remembered the glowing eyes, and how the thing had a way of making sense, but about the other details he recalled little – no, he could recall, but his mind would not focus.

Irritated without knowing why, Delegado unzipped the long bag and checked his father’s body. It had dried fairly well, and aside from its shriveling through loss of dust, it was whole with no decay.

The bag was similar to ones used by the armies of Khorvaire to pick their dead soldiers off of the field. Body bags.

Like the hawk stand, it just happened to be in his cabin.

Delegado wanted to wonder about that, but he didn’t. Instead he turned to Orphan’s body, which lay on the floor next to the half-orc’s bed. Other than brush Orphan off, Delegado could do nothing for the warforged. The half-orc had no tools, and he was no smith in any event. He had no idea where to begin with the cords and cracks and things.

He’d tied the headband that they’d taken from the demon city around Orphan’s head. At least he could wear that which the Balanced Palm venerated.

Delegado stopped and peered into Orphan’s eyes, nodding in satisfaction when he saw the dim glow. It had neither faded nor grown. Warforged did not heal by themselves.

“Well, not unless they’re monks like you that can fix themselves,” Delegado whispered aloud. “Of course you have to be awake to do it.”

As his mind drifted to how he could fix Orphan, he felt it suddenly surge back to taking care of Ois. That had happened several times since they’d come on board.

Delegado frowned, and sat on his bunk. Something was wrong.

He closed his eyes, breathed in and out, and let his mind go blank.

Stay below, popped into his head. Take care of the female changeling.

The half-orc opened his eyes. The impulses to stay below when an outdoorsman like himself should be wanting to go topside…he hadn’t questioned it when he was taking care of Ois, as he had not questioned the impulse to attend to the woman he loved. But why was he thinking of her as ‘the female changeling,’ and why had those thoughts jumped into his mind when he was thinking of nothing?

He pondered, and then saw glowing eyes.

Why should you fight me when you will lose, the Captain had said. It is enough that I am here, enough that I am the Captain. You need not ask questions.

Why should we trust you, you are one of them! demanded Thomas.

The eyes had burned brighter. Be calm, you have no reason to fight me. And they had calmed and lowered their weapons. Half-orc, stay below and take care of the female changeling. Delegado had nodded, put his bow on his shoulder, and then picked up Ois without thinking. Half-daelkyr, bring the bodies down below, you’ll take care of them.

One is dead and the other is a construct, Thomas had said, returning his greataxe next to the staff in the sheath on his back. They need not my attention.

Then bring them below and you stay below, the Captain had said, again his eyes burning more brightly. If you have naught to do then stay in your cabin and think about life. He seemed irritated. Hurry, both of you, I have to get away from the Wastes.

“And we went along like small children who don’t know how to ask questions,” Delegado said aloud, grabbing his bow as he stood. He still had a few arrows. He snapped his fingers and Feather woke up, the hawk’s eyes blinking and questioning. “He did a mind-f’test on me!”

Feather squawked a small query.

“Topside, old friend,” Delegado said. “And quiet. I have to steal some more arrows. I have no intention of letting this galig-eater see me coming.”

Range doesn’t just beat numbers, Delegado thought, stepping out of his cabin with a quiet woodsman’s walk while he gripped his bow. I bet that mind-magic of yours won’t have the range to get me from a hundred feet away.

He thought of getting Ois or Thomas, but rejected the idea. If the fiendish Captain saw all three of them, it would know that they meant battle, whereas if it only saw Delegado the half-orc could pretend to just want to see the ocean.

Of course the plans were to not let the damned thing see anything until several arrows had perforated its internal workings.

The half-orc snarled quietly, jutting his lower teeth while he crept to the stairs that led up to the deck.