User:JohnB/The Book and the stone 8

Mount Royal:

It became apparent that a cleft on the coast they were approaching was an inlet that didn’t appear on their map. The navigator used the line and plumb to take soundings and found that, though it was narrow, it was deep enough for the ship to enter. The bay they entered had the most appealing aspect of lush meadows surrounded by wooded hills. Having spent so many months at sea, the crew gaped in awe at the paradise that surrounded them. The captain, who was Breton, immediately dubbed it Bellehaven. He deemed it best to drop anchor there in the middle of the bay and convey the crew in longboats to the shore.

However, no sooner had they begun to set to work launching the longboats when dozens of dugout canoes converged on the ship from all directions conveying natives dressed in stitched animal hides. The crew looked on in trepidation, not knowing if they should defend themselves or what they should do. The captain ordered caution. A more gaudily accoutered individual, who they took to be the chieftain, addressed them in gibberish. The captain responded that he had no idea what they were saying. There was a bit of a stand-off, but the crew impatient to disboard began lowering the sick and the wounded towards the dugout canoes, which were crowded so thick around the ship that it was impossible to lower their own longboats.

The natives, seeing that these men were in great need of care, gladly took them into their canoes and conveyed them to the shore, where they were brought to a village and put up in a communal hall. The healthy crew was escorted by the natives to an impressive stockade standing on a large hill above the village. The captain dubbed it Mount Royal. As it turned out, the man they'd taken for "chieftain" was in fact the equivalent of an Ashlander gulakhan. After the men were seated on a raised dais in their assembly hall, the king was carried in on a litter. When the litter touched the floor and he stood up, the natives all kow-towed. The captain motioned to his men to do likewise, and they kow-towed as well.

The king made a speech of welcome, and the captain brought out boxes of gifts for him--not bells and trinkets but real Tamrielic commodities the natives might want to trade for. The king was especially pleased with the glass dishes that were packed in straw and survived the voyage. He took them out one by one laughing with glee as he looked through the glass at the assembly. In return, he brought forward a group of young women, each one to be presented to a crew member. The captain blanched and gulped as his men looked extremely pleased with the gift, but he knew that to reject it would be tantamount to a declaration of war.

Meanwhile, Asantus was set down on the floor in the sick bay feeling he could die at any moment. Several women gently lifted him and placed a mattress underneath, after which they examined him to see what ailed him. One young girl told them in their language that she would take care of him, and they should see what could be done to help the others. Seeing that she was about the same age as the boy, the women giggled and let her have her way.

She wasn’t what one might call pretty, like the girls in the Imperial City anyway, but she had a well-formed face, and what particularly struck Asantus, as she bent over him examining his face for indicators of disease, was the amethyst color of her eyes, and she was startled at the ruby-red of his eyes. They gazed at each other in rapt wonder. Eyes that were this bloodshot didn’t bode well, but none of the other men who suffered from the same malady had eyes so gorged with blood. Neither of the two realized that their peoples were distant branches of the same Dunmer family, so distant that their languages were mutually incomprehensible.

She tried to tell him that she was training to be a healer and so didn’t have all the answers, but it was quite apparent to her that his problem was severe malnutrition. He shook his head to show he had no idea what she was talking about. She told him to wait, and she ran to her mother, the village healer, to ask what to do for him. Her mother advised fresh fruit and a gruel of certain medicinal herbs. These she prepared and returned to Asantus shooing away other girls who’d also come to gaze into his eyes.

She presented a dish of sliced fruit and nodded smiling to indicate he could eat as much as he wanted. He grabbed the dish and immediately shoved handfuls of the fruit into his mouth. She urged him to slow down so as not to overburden his empty stomach too quickly. He could then feel the medicinal herbs work wonders on his emaciated body as she carefully spoon fed the gruel to him.

When he finished eating, she set the bowl aside and asked how he was feeling. This he somehow understood, so he nodded and answered that he hadn’t felt this well in a very long time. She pointed to herself and said something. Asantus surmised that she was introducing herself but couldn’t catch her name. Later, after he’d gotten to know her better, he learned that her name was IXOHOXI, but he didn't understand the meaning until much later. He told her his name Asantus, and she repeated it. She had a winning smile, and Asantus felt strangely warm inside. He often played with girls on the Grazelands, but never before had he noticed the strange fascination that he now had. She was beautiful--in her own way, of course--but beautiful nonetheless.

The next day, Asantus tried to rise from his mattress, but she pushed him down again saying he wasn't ready for that. He shoved her away and tried again as she looked on in exasperation, and when he was on his feet again, he wobbled and collapsed back onto the mattress. "I told you so!" she seemed to say in her language. Asantus was surprised that even though he didn't know what she was saying, he somehow understood nonetheless, and it made him eager to learn her language.