Lerran 3

1478 - 7 - 12 Lerran 3

Captain Urro ran a tight ship on Storm, and Lerran let him handle his business as he knew how to.  If Lerran had his way, the Gharo Family would run on merit, not just loyalty and blood.  Blood was all-important, of course.  It was in the name.  But a woman, like Gadra, or any other of his sisters—they should not be held back by tradition.

Thinking about home made him a little homesick.  He was never as nostalgic as the other sisters, but his home life had become more and more dear to him ever since he had married.  He hoped that Tass was alright in his absence.  If any of the organization laid a finger on her, Lerran would kill the man himself.  No matter what foolish rules his father tried to impose.  Though Lerran did not look forward to his father’s death, he did look forward to the changes he would implement as the new leader of the Gharo establishment.

Lerran spent his days helping out on deck as much as he could, cleaning or repairing.  There was almost always something to be done—Captain Urro was good at finding tasks to do—but Lerran tried to fit in some time to work out and train his sparring on a dummy that they crew kept below deck.  He was lifting a bucket of water repeatedly when they finally reached the Great Isle.

“Land!” bellowed the man in their crow’s nest, and Lerran put down his weight.  He was a man of a sturdy build, with thick shoulders and large head; his frame was broad enough to make exiting the cargo hatch a little irritating.  He always brushed the doorframe when the sway of the boat caught him and came away with splinters.

As the shout had indicated, a small island had appeared on the horizon.  As the Storm drifted closer, another island came into view, away to the starboard of their vessel.  “Have we reached the Great Isle?” he asked the captain, as he climbed up to the helm.

Urro had the wheel, giving his helmsman a rest. “Aye.  That’s Dirg Rock and that’s Greenreach,” he said, indicated the two smaller islands.  “Shall we sail only for the nearest village?  Collect supply?”

“What would you suggest?” Lerran asked.

“I just doubt that Vanci would have spent the last month in one,” Urro explained.

Lerran nodded.  “If his ship wrecked, he’d have to.  But you’re right.  Neither Ren nor his uncle would stay there.  They’d find a new ship.”  Lerran knew what that meant.  “We make for Bellasa then.”

“It lengthens our journey.  If Vanci and Renado are stuck in Kedar, they’ll be waiting a time longer,” Urro said.  “It’s another ten or eleven days, some four-hundred miles.”

“I was hoping we’d encounter the Dispatch before now,” Lerran said.  “This delay of their ship makes no sense.  Something went wrong, and I hope it’s on this side of the Grey Sea, not in Keda Bay.”

“Dangerous waters, those.  We’ll check the safer place first?”

Lerran nodded.  “Someone in Bellasa must know something.”

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