Rising tide - Mel Odom [78]
As with the rest of the house, the dining room kept mementos of its mistress's long and involved life. Jherek only knew a few of the stories behind the many objects that lined the shelves or occupied wall space. Madame litaar rarely talked about them, and he wasn't ill-mannered enough to ask. The table was round, hand-carved by her late husband from a great tree he'd felled. That same tree had also given him the lumber he'd needed to build the eight chairs for the table, her bed, and her bedroom suite. All of those, Jherek knew, had been wedding gifts he'd made for her before they married.
Madame litaar looked at him from where she sat at the head of the table. "Jherek, there's a reason for you being here."
"In your house?" the young sailor asked bitterly, thinking of his traveling kit packed outside. He felt good again, thanks to the healing potion and the hot meal. "That seems to have come to an end tonight."
She shook her head. "No. We've been through a lot together these past years. This will not break us. As long as I have a home, you'll have a home. That I swear to you on my husband's grave."
That, Jherek knew, was her firmest promise, and there was no arguing with it. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Live," she answered simply, "which is why I've arranged to send you on Breezerunner tonight. You must take it to Baldur's Gate. The vision I've had recently indicates that you'll find more of your destiny there. That ship is new to these waters, so no one aboard her will know you. Possibly they've heard of you while they've been in port, but they don't know you by sight."
"Running off in the middle of the night isn't being the kind of man I want to be," Jherek said stubbornly.
"You go so that you may see more clearly," the woman said. "That's something about you I've seen in my dreams of late. In order to grow, you must first leave Velen."
Her words struck a chord within the young sailor, and he remembered the dream of the mermaid in the clam. She had said something along the same lines, but with that memory came the image of the great shark, and that left him feeling cold.
"How many challengers do you think you'll find in Velen when the cock crows on the morrow?" Malorrie demanded.
As usual, the phantom leaned against the window overlooking the harbor, his arms crossed over his chest.
Jherek paused, knowing Malorrie was right. "I don't know." He used a knife to cut a hunk off the bread loaf on the wooden platter in the middle of the table, then used the bread to sop up the soup from his bowl. He guessed the incredible hunger he felt was one of the side-effects of the potion.
"Well, boy, there'll be plenty of them, I can assure you."
"I could fight."
"And be killed, perhaps," the phantom agreed. He looked at Jherek sternly. "I know that's unfair to say, but who's to say you'll only face one foe, or that they'll come at you where you can see them?" He shook his head. "Perhaps you'll kill one of those boys you've grown up with since you've been here. Would that be better?"
"No," he admitted, "but I don't want to be driven from home."
"I'm glad you feel that way," Madame litaar said with a small smile. "I guessed that was the way you felt, but you've never said so, not in so many words."
"This is your home," Jherek said, hastening because he felt like he'd overstepped his bounds, "but I've enjoyed the time I've spent here."
"Good, but you need to realize this isn't the only home you'll know," the woman said. "Your home was also Butterfly and the sea. That will always be your true home, Jherek. I've seen it in the castings I've done concerning you. In the future, you're never far from the oceans."
"Everything now seems destined to keep me from the sea," Jherek said. "I couldn't sail with-" His voice faltered. He couldn't bring himself to say the word 'father.' "-with the crew of Bunyip."
"The river always finds its