Chapter 8 – A Taste of Conviction
As we headed south, the ‘Blackbone’ made port at several sea-side villages and a couple of commerce ports along the west coast. During that journey I spent a great deal of time and energy learning to become a worthy crewman in the Captain’s eyes. According to Mattin, I was a rapid learner. The effort finally bore fruit after the fourth week aboard, when Mattin and I were called before the Captain. There he declared me an acceptable deckhand and I began earning my own pay with one third to Mattin for four weeks.
After a few port calls, Captain Ulvan, though gruff with me, began to trust me enough that I was allowed the privilege of time ashore without restriction or escort. My first independent adventures back onto dry land were invigorating. I had never been beyond a few miles of Frostport.
While ashore, I found that even a hint of interest in the Orange College was risky. It seems most are repulsed by talk of the Orange Way. Serrale did not visit the topic of the mind carving again and I did not bring it up. Other than pappa, the only other person that I knew of that would have more information about the Orange College and mind carvings was the Orange Master Wizard in Amperus or perhaps my Uncle Kemper. I also wanted to understand if I am Orange exposed or not, and what is the link between the Orange College and zhest? It seemed unlikely that I would get near Amperus as Captain Ulvan had no plans or interest in going there. So, I had to come up with a good reason for Uncle Kemper to want to have a personal conversation with me. Something that would allow me to get near him in Bansu Castle without him needing to know who I am.
On the evening of our arrival at Ryia, we had just finished unloading our cargo and made preparations to receive new on the morrow. Since it is Captain Ulvan’s custom to give us an evening ashore after disembarking the cargo, he had our attention.
“Crew of the ‘Blackbone’, the port authority here at Ryia tells me that there have been incidents of thievery and vandalism recently from arriving vessels. The officials of Ryia have imposed a limit on the number of crew from each visiting vessel to one third at any one time. Because of this, not everyone can go ashore tonight. We have two days of free time here and since the crew is already divided into a standard three part watch rotation, one watch will not be going ashore, today or tomorrow. One goes this evening and another goes tomorrow evening. We all load goods early on the morrow.”
This brought a few grumbles, so Mattin pipped up “Sir, how will you choose whose to shore?”
The Captain answered, “To answer that, we will have a Contest of Insults. We will use the standard rules of Dach. Each watch choose your champion! The first to lose stays aboard, both days, the next goes ashore tonight and returns at sunrise and the winner goes ashore tomorrow after the loading is finished. It’s not yet midday, let’s be quick about it or time will spoil the evening for all of us.”
In the end it boiled down to Mattin and I. In Frostport I had been the recipient of many taunts and insults. I thought my hide thicker than most. My watch asked for a volunteer, so I proudly stepped up. Several times in the contest intuition pulled at me to say this or that. Some of those feelings I followed, others, I resisted. But in the end, Mattin’s parting sally was this, “Wait, I hear Gwynn’s far & mor calling for the young pribbling ear-vexing, heart-pricked, hasty-witted outcast. Will he answer a mother’s call to suckle or will he hide?”
At that, I twitched, and lost the contest. Later, Mattin was a good sport and sincerely apologized, more than once. It took me a while to come back to myself over that one. But then I also realized how the men in Mattin’s watch respected him and how badly they yearned for some time ashore. He did it to keep the peace at the expense of the new fellow. Mattin believed that I would eventually get over it and forgive him. That’s in the spirit of a contest of insults. You get over it.
He was right. I did recover, but his victory had sired a conviction. To myself, I swore that I would spend every extra thinking moment inventing, reviewing and reinventing an array of insults. A huge weapons store of insults, to prick the resolve of anyone. This is what I would need. A plan, a way to speak at length with my uncle and gain an understanding of the Orange Way.
It is widely known that the King of Bansu loves to hear news of the contest in Dach. If I play well to his interests, he would not resist extending an invitation to me. For a time I would hone my skills at casting insults and withstanding them without giving myself away. Then after I had completed all my obligations to Captain Ulvan, I would part company with the ‘Blackbone’ in a southern port and work my way toward Dach where the Annual Contest of Insults is held.