Russum was unimpressed with the new boy, Ardeeb, who knew almost nothing about sailing and refused to look anyone in the eye for the first several days. Despite this, Captain Nikami insisted that Russum show the newcomer about and keep him out of trouble.
This was less fun than Russum had hoped: Ardeeb was quiet, inattentive, and jumpy. He didn't know how to duck out of the way when the sailors ran through to adjust the sails, got blisters on his feet from the hot deck, and barely responded to his own name.
"You needn't bother," said Ardeeb sullenly, after Russum had wasted a whole turn of the glass showing the other boy how to tie the four necessary knots every sailor needed to know. "I know you'd rather not."
Russum shot him a sharp glance; Ardeeb had barely spoken for the first three days, and only now was it clear that he spoke with a distinct and well-bred Calormene accent. Russum had been to Tashbaan, had carried vegetables and crates of chickens through its market for the ship's quartermaster: he knew what high-born Calormenes sounded like.
"Where are you from?" he challenged, looking around to make sure no one was watching. He had been cossetted on the Wave-Rider as a boy, but as he grew, he was treated more as a member of the crew and less as a pet. Loitering and gossiping on a busy ship was a good way to find yourself scrubbing the scuppers. "And don't tell me some fishing village, either: you're no peasant."
The Calormene boy bit his lip. He had the Calormene complexion, but with delicate features and a light--if wiry--build. Russum had noted the calluses on his hands from riding and swordplay, and his excellent balance; despite the rough waters of the Calormene Bight, Ardeeb had never once fallen on deck. "Kidrash," he finally said, his eyes looking everywhere but at Russum's face. "My -- my brother went north with Prince Rabadash but didn't come back, and I want to find him."
Russum pondered. There had been some story about Prince Rabadash in the markets, something about a raid gone wrong, but he had paid little attention. Still, looking for a missing brother: that was a worthy quest, even a noble one. Maybe this Ardeeb wasn't such a sullen waste of space after all.
"All right," he decided, and clapped the other boy on the back. "I'll help you out, if you promise not to be such a pill, and maybe we can figure out together how to find your brother. Deal?"
Ardeeb's face brightened, and he let his breath out in a whoosh. "Do you mean it? I--I--I could use a friend." He put his arm out in the Calormene way, and Russum clasped it.
Of course, on a small ship with almost no privacy, it is nearly impossible to keep some secrets. Happily, by the time "Ardeeb" was discovered to be Aravis, she had become inseparable from Russum, and the crew had long since adjusted to her presence. Indeed, there was a long history of female sailors in the less-than-legal naval community of the Eastern Sea, and after a few grumbles, life on the Wave-Rider went on much as before.
Re: Narnia: The Dread Pirate Shasta? (AU)
This was less fun than Russum had hoped: Ardeeb was quiet, inattentive, and jumpy. He didn't know how to duck out of the way when the sailors ran through to adjust the sails, got blisters on his feet from the hot deck, and barely responded to his own name.
"You needn't bother," said Ardeeb sullenly, after Russum had wasted a whole turn of the glass showing the other boy how to tie the four necessary knots every sailor needed to know. "I know you'd rather not."
Russum shot him a sharp glance; Ardeeb had barely spoken for the first three days, and only now was it clear that he spoke with a distinct and well-bred Calormene accent. Russum had been to Tashbaan, had carried vegetables and crates of chickens through its market for the ship's quartermaster: he knew what high-born Calormenes sounded like.
"Where are you from?" he challenged, looking around to make sure no one was watching. He had been cossetted on the Wave-Rider as a boy, but as he grew, he was treated more as a member of the crew and less as a pet. Loitering and gossiping on a busy ship was a good way to find yourself scrubbing the scuppers. "And don't tell me some fishing village, either: you're no peasant."
The Calormene boy bit his lip. He had the Calormene complexion, but with delicate features and a light--if wiry--build. Russum had noted the calluses on his hands from riding and swordplay, and his excellent balance; despite the rough waters of the Calormene Bight, Ardeeb had never once fallen on deck. "Kidrash," he finally said, his eyes looking everywhere but at Russum's face. "My -- my brother went north with Prince Rabadash but didn't come back, and I want to find him."
Russum pondered. There had been some story about Prince Rabadash in the markets, something about a raid gone wrong, but he had paid little attention. Still, looking for a missing brother: that was a worthy quest, even a noble one. Maybe this Ardeeb wasn't such a sullen waste of space after all.
"All right," he decided, and clapped the other boy on the back. "I'll help you out, if you promise not to be such a pill, and maybe we can figure out together how to find your brother. Deal?"
Ardeeb's face brightened, and he let his breath out in a whoosh. "Do you mean it? I--I--I could use a friend." He put his arm out in the Calormene way, and Russum clasped it.
Of course, on a small ship with almost no privacy, it is nearly impossible to keep some secrets. Happily, by the time "Ardeeb" was discovered to be Aravis, she had become inseparable from Russum, and the crew had long since adjusted to her presence. Indeed, there was a long history of female sailors in the less-than-legal naval community of the Eastern Sea, and after a few grumbles, life on the Wave-Rider went on much as before.