Come sail the peaceful waters of Sinbad and Bryn, the spotlight couple of "The Adventurers of Sinbad"'s second season. M\Sers are allowed but only if they come in peace. This is a place intended for B\Sers, peace be the journey.
Past Imperfect Chapter Four (complete)
by Boo
Chapter Four
Sinbad had kept his end of the bargain and set the sidhe free when they reached the edge of Athlone. The minute he disembarked off the boat Trianya vanished, smiling her thanks. She had also vowed that him, and his children would from this day fourth be immune to the magic of her clan. He thanked her quickly with a smile thinking that you never know when that will come in handy. The young captain then focused his attention on the town below and headed toward it at a dead run hoping he was in time.
The crowd drew closer and Bryn, although thankful that Lonnie wanted to protect her, stepped in front of the woman facing down the mob. The young witch wasn’t a coward and she wasn’t about to start behaving like one, even in the face of this…whatever this was. Bryn stood her ground as the group drew closer, tense and ready for whatever they happened to throw at her. The crowd stopped in a few feet in front of her anger and hatred flowing from them in waves causing the empath to reel from the onslaught to her senses. The average built man with gray hair seemed to be their leader. He was wearing the robes of a druid priest as he stepped forward to address her.
“Demon you are not welcome here,” the man said his venom flowing over Bryn in waves.
Bryn gasped in pain, the man’s intense hatred for her hitting her like a physical blow. The young witch clucked her stomach in an attempt to lessen the agony. She took two or three calming breaths, mentally separating her self from the mob. She then attempted what was probably the most idiotic thing she had ever done; she tried to reason with them. She was about to speak, try to appeal to the undecided elements, when Lonnie spoke instead.
“Xavier you have no right to be calling anyone demon, you hypocritical bastard,” Lonnie spat her intense hatred of the man lacing her words.
“Silence woman,” the priest roared, “It figure’s that you would protect this witch. She killed her own mother for gods sake, Gods rest her pure soul,” he concluded his voice sounding sincere.
“You are the demon Xavier, the lass is one of the purest souls to walk the face of this world,” Lonnie shot back not about to be silenced. “And you should all be ashamed of your selves,” the plump woman added addressing the crowd. As Lonnie spoke a few of the townspeople started to look a little uncomfortable, but for the most part the plump woman’s words had fallen on deaf ears. Xavier’s proclamation had already had its desired affect, the priest’s band of followers becoming even more agitated. Cries of witch, demon, and other cruder titles were flung at the unsuspecting empath until Xavier waved his hand for silence. A cruel smile curved the priest lips; he was obviously enjoying being the ringleader of this little circus.
Bryn, in the mean time, was numb from the shock of Xavier’s revelation. The young witch’s beautiful dark eyes had a hollow, dull look to them. She was no longer listening to the cries of the crowd because Xavier’s words had been the catalyst; the final stimulant needed to open the floodgates on her buried past. Suddenly Bryn grasped her head in pain, it had begun, her mind had opened and the memories were crashing down on top of her. Bryn felt her entire being recoil from the intense pain and loss. She vaguely felt Lonnie there supporting her as she tried to weather the storm. Bryn’s mind was reacting violently, trying in vain to repress a lifetime of painful memories. It was because of the young empath’s preoccupation with her own emotional turmoil that she failed to pick up on the feeling of a wrongness she would have normal picked up from the priest.
“Lonnie is this true,” she asked the one woman who she felt she could trust at the moment. Here voice was that of a child seeking comfort for a grievous wrong beyond her control. “No little one,” she replied softly, “you ‘twere barely seven, there was no way you could have known…” Lonnie said unable to finish.
Bryn’s eyes widened, “known what,” she choked afraid to hear the answer.
Lonnie locked eyes with Bryn and started to say, “That…” but Xavier cut her off.
“No Lonnie,” he said savagely knowing that what the woman would say would sway the crowd from it’s purpose. “No more of your lies, she is a demon, touched by the sidhe (shee) and this time she must not live,” he screamed maniacally. Bryn never saw the first rock coming as it hit her across her right cheek splitting it open. She went down on her knees and when she looked up her eyes were glowing yellow. Lonnie gasped when she saw the young witch’s eyes and started shaking her head in a mouthing no. Bryn felt her heart fall as the fear flowed into her from the plump woman. Just then another rock went flying as the crowd recovered from it’s own shock. The rock was headed right for Lonnie's head.
Sinbad had arrived just in time to see the first rock hit Bryn, and he ran forward without thinking, pushing his way through the crowd desperately trying to reach her. He doubled his efforts when he saw Bryn rise and jumped in front of the woman who seemed to be the only person, besides himself; here that didn’t want her blood. Sinbad watched as the rock flew to the right, away from the crowd and the woman, as Bryn used her magic to deflect it. She wasn’t going to hurt the townspeople even if they were trying to kill her, and Sinbad cringed as a few rocks made it throw her defenses striking her. He was tired of being nice as he viciously elbowed a town’s man in the face and started to fight his way to the front of the mob.
Bryn was getting tired. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to keep up this defense indefinitely. She could already feel the drain on her powers as more and more rocks broke through striking her. Just when she thought that she couldn’t take anymore the pelting stopped. Through her haze of pain and fatigue she thought she heard a familiar voice and thought questioningly “Sinbad?” right before she collapsed.
Sinbad pressed the tip of his sword tighter against the sniveling little priests throat wanting nothing more to slice it open and pull out the small minded little man’s tongue. He had broke through the crowd and heard the priest fanatically encouraging the townspeople to spill Bryn’s blood. Now all eyes were on the young captain as they waited to see what he would do to the priest.
“By Allah just what are you doing,” Sinbad said in menace. “I should kill you were you stand,” he added on a growl.
“She is a demon young foreigner, you have no idea what you are seeing here today, else you would not defend this loathsome creature,” the priest said confident in his own abilities to twist Sinbad to his cause. What the petty little man didn’t know was Bryn’s connection to the young captain. Sinbad smiled a predatory smile and decided to tell him.
“I’m afraid that I will be forced to disagree with you on that,” Sinbad said to the priest holding up his wrist and showing the man his rainbow bracelet. He then nodded to Bryn’s. The priest’s eyes widened in real fear now as he noticed the matching bracelet Bryn had on her arm. “As you can see me and the young lady have similar tastes in jewelry,” the young captain added his smile all teeth.
“Sinbad,” the young captain heard Bryn say weakly. He turned his head slightly keeping his eye on Xavier and checking Bryn out at the same time. The empath awoke with her head in Lonnie’s lap, the plump woman gently brushing back the younger woman’s hair back from her bleeding face.
“Yes Bryn it is me, can you walk,” he asked softly still watching the priest. Pain hit him like a physical blow when he noticed how battered Bryn was from her latest encounter.
“Y-Yes,” Bryn answered unsteadily as she tried to stand. Lonnie was there, supporting her, and she put her arm around the woman’s shoulder, gratefully, and treated her to a wan smile.
“Good because we are leaving,” he said loudly his voice carrying out to the crowd. “If anyone has a problem with that then this man’s blood will be on your heads,” he added harshly dragging Xavier in front of him and placing the blade firmly at the priest’s throat. The towns’ people back off, some of the men glaring at the captain, but keeping their distance. Lonnie helped Bryn who was slowly getting her strength back as they walked. Sinbad kept the priest in front of him like a shield until they reached the edge of the village. The captain then shouted out his final warning to the villagers. “Follow us and this man will die.” No one followed and Sinbad, Bryn, Lonnie, and their prisoner made it into the nearby forest unmolested.
Three hours later Sinbad was still viscously dragging the priest along, knowing that he had to keep the nastily little man with them until they were far enough away. He was seething inwardly as Xavier took yet another shot at Bryn with his venomous words. What really made the captain cringe though was Bryn’s response, or actually lack of response, to the verbal assault the priest was throwing at her. Ever since they had left the village the young witch had been nothing but a living, breathing, emotionless statue. The captain of the Nomad had to admit that Bryn’s current state of mind scared him more then all the sea monsters and demons he had ever faced in his young life. Sinbad cringed again as the little bigot spouted yet another fanatically religious verse at Bryn, denouncing her. The young captain was growing impatient with the priest’s verbally abused of the young witch.
“You are a demon, and the gods will deliver you into the hands of the righteous,” Xavier spat at Bryn who was ignoring him, still oblivious. Her and Lonnie were walking ahead of Sinbad and the priest, Lonnie having placed a supportive arm around Bryn’s waist. The young witch had barely acknowledged the gesture, as she was so lost in her own mind. The older woman had sent Sinbad quite a few looks that showed how concerned she was for the young lass, concern that was mirrored in the captain’s eyes
“You hear me witch,” the priest tried again the madness that he normal kept under control shining through his fevered eyes. That was the last draw for the captain as he gave an angry growl from low in his throat.
“I think that is enough talking for one day,” Sinbad said in a companionable tone his grin nasty. “Lonnie would you mind helping the priest conserve his voice,” he asked the middle aged woman his grin becoming larger. Lonnie who had stopped and turned to face the captain at the sound of her name had been gazing at him in puzzlement. That is until he made his last comment. The older woman’s face took on a grin of her own as she pulled a scarf from around her neck. “Aye I believe the priest here has done entirely too much talking, be a shame if he were to loss his voice because of it,” Lonnie said with a calculating look at Xavier. The older woman gently disentangled herself form Bryn who still hadn’t shown any real signs of life. She then purposefully strode toward the loathsome little man and proceeded to gag him tightly. After the deed was done Sinbad and Lonnie exchanged amused looks that only co-conspirators can achieve, studiously ignoring the indigent protests of the priest. Then both turned their gaze to the young witch, hoping to share their mirth with her, only to find her sunk to the ground on her knees starring off into the horizon. Sinbad’s heart twisted in his chest at the sight and he wondered for the hundredth time today if he had been too late to save her after all.
Night had fallen on the Emerald Isle, and Sinbad could be seen sitting on a log in the middle of a dark forest starring into the fire, like it held the all the answers the universe had to offer. The young captain was the only one awake, Lonnie and Bryn both having dropped off a candlemark or so ago. The priest also had fallen asleep, dozing fitful in the sitting position that Sinbad had tied him in. The loathsome little man was tied tightly to a tree still bound and gagged. Sinbad was worried, It had been three days since they had fled the village and Bryn had yet to utter a single word. Sinbad hated the dull look in her eyes, hated the feeling of helplessness that had overtaken him. She was battling her inner demons something the young captain knew was not something anyone could save you from. Still as he watched her sleep he was frustrated that he couldn’t help her, couldn’t protect her. By Allah what good would it do to have saved her life only to have her soul destroyed in the process, and that is what had raw primal fear coursing through the captain. Sinbad continued to stare into the fire searching for answers and absolution. He was too late he thought, she was gone from him, he knew it every time he had looked into her eyes. The brown depths that had always held such humor, kindness, and spirit were dead, lifeless. Sinbad’s heart felt like a Cyclops had taken its mighty hand and squeezed until there was nothing left. Sinbad silently cried out in despair to any god that would listen to please bring her back to him. He was so lost in his silent anguish that he didn’t notice that Bryn was awake, alert, and gazing at him.
“Sinbad,” she whispered softly and the young captain’s head shot up in surprise at the sound of her voice. He couldn’t believe it she was…that is…she spoke. The young captain shook his head in surprise falling backward off the log. Bryn couldn’t help herself; she laughed in spite of herself. Sinbad was so stunned for a minute that all he could so was stare and hope.
“Bryn,” he choked his voice fearful and hopeful all at the same time. The young captain then looked deep into her brown eyes afraid of what he might find. What he found gazing back at him filled him with such joy that he couldn’t contain himself. For there in those beautiful eyes he found what had been missing for the past three days…life. He scrambled to his feet, strode over to the sorceress and pulled her to her feet. He then, grasped her arm, turned on his heels, and started walking deeper into the woods, pulling the young witch behind him.
“Sinbad,” Bryn protested laughing. He didn’t answer her and she tried again all the while trying to keep up with him as he walked. “Sinbad what are you doing,” she questioned amused by his strange behavior. He still didn’t say anything, but he did stop and turn to face her. She was looking into his blue eyes not sure what she was seeing in them, and about to question him. She never had a chance as Sinbad pulled her roughly into his arms and proceeded to kiss her like she had never been kissed before. The young witch gasped in surprise as his lips covered hers, probing them, his mouth was rough and gentle all at once. Sinbad took advantage of the gasp, which parted her lips slightly and let his tongue slip past them into the warm recesses of her mouth. His wandering hands found her hips and rested there causing his figures to splay out across her backside. Bryn’s hands, in the mean time, had found there way into his hair giving him better access to her mouth and allowing him to deepen the kiss. Bryn was lost in a hazy cloud of pleasure as he continued to move that very skillful mouth across her lips, and her tongue of its own accord pushed forward entwining with his. She had been remembering her past and although she knew she had been kissed before, she also knew that she had never been kissed to the point were her legs refused to support her. Sinbad wasn’t in a much better state and he had kissed hundreds of women. No one had ever made him loss himself like this, and he knew if they continued he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from making love to her. The young captain reluctantly broke the kiss gasping for air and putting some much-needed distance between them.
“Sinbad,” Bryn said in confusion not understanding why he stopped.
Sinbad had her by the shoulders and was holding her away from him. “Bryn…I…that is…” he stuttered his blood still fired with desire. “Bryn we can’t,” he final managed to say his eyes filled with regret.
Bryn tried to mask her hurt, schooling her face into a mask of indifference, but she wasn’t quite fast enough in doing so. She turned her back on her captain and said the first thing she was capable of. “I…Sinbad it’s all right…I mean why would you want…” she said taking a shuddering breath.
“No Bryn you don’t understand,” he said grabbing her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “I want you, I want you more than I have wanted anything in my life,” he added his eyes intense and sincere. “I just won’t take advantage of you. I mean for Allah’s sake you have been a living statue for the last three days, and I’m just glad…” he said choking on the words. He then gently placed his hand on her non-injured cheek and brushed his coarse work worn figures over the soft skin.
Bryn sighed, she was a little more then just hot and bothered herself but she knew he was right. She had just been able to come to terms with a part of her past that the stoning had triggered in her mind. If and when she made love to Sinbad it would not be because she wasn’t just seeking the comfort of his arms, it would be because it was the right.
“I know Sinbad and your right,” Bryn said taking a claming breath. “It isn’t the time or the place,” she added on a rueful grin.
The captain smiled his own rueful smile, then turned serious, “I had thought I had lost you,” he said softly.
“I know, I just couldn’t deal with…” she said the past still very painful for her.
“What did you remember Bryn,” he said in understanding, “that is if you want to tell me,” he added softly.
“You know I think I do,” she said supriseing herself on how badly she wanted to tell him.
Sinbad gently took a hold of her hand and lead her to a soft patch of grass under a near bye tree. He sank down resting his back against the tree and then pulled her down with him resting her in his lap. She sighed in contentment and laid her head on his chest, her eyes took on a far away look as she transported herself back to the past. Bryn could almost see herself, a dark haired child, too skinny, and very small for her age. Then she smiled as she saw the beautiful woman, who was her mother, scolding her again for getting her clothes dirty.
“My mother name was Shannon, she was always scolding me for ruining my dresses. It seems that I was a notorious tomboy,” she said to Sinbad starting her story. The young captain smiled he could feel her lips brush his chest as they turned up in a grin. “You…no,” he replied in mock disbelief. She gave him a playful slap on the arm giggled a little as he retaliated by tickling her. She then stilled and continued her story.
“Well as hard as it is to believe, I was,” she grinned again and then grew serious. “I was happy, mother loved me, but father…lets just say he wasn’t around much.” Sinbad squeezed her a little closer as if he could protect her from the past and she felt her heart leapt a little in her chest as she continued. “It was fine at first, father was a sailor by trade and his name was Donavan, he was seldom home. It was usually just mother and me, which I preferred since father ignored me when he was here anyway. I knew mother was lonely though and many in the village thought that her and Michael, the village tavern owner’s son, were having an affair. I knew though that she would never cheat on father. I had felt her constant terror of him, it was there even when he was off somewhere sailing. Mother lived her life in a shell afraid to look at anyone for fear of the consequences. Father was horribly jealous and possessive; he wouldn’t even allow her to have my grandparents to visit. Donavan controlled her, controlled us both, he intimidated when he needed to intimidate, and used guilt when she threatened to finally leave because of the intimidation. Even though I was young I knew that this situation wasn’t normal. My abilities allowed me to feel others emotions and I knew.”
“What caused him to let them visit when you were five,” he asked already having a good idea what the answer was.
Bryn smiled against his chest again but it was a bittersweet smile. “They found out I have powers,” she answered matter of factly. “It was right after my father was injured, about two months or so, he…he had been beating my mother for years but now that he was home and out of work…” she said trailing off. “Anyway I had seen it happen, even tried to stop it once, all that happened was I joined my mother in that beating.” Sinbad held her tighter as she began to shake. “One night, when he was very drunk, he came home and just started hitting her and hitting her. I was only five and this time my anger was…well more than a five-year-old should be capable of. That was the first time I had ever channeled my power, that I can remember that is, and I threw my father across the room. I will never forget the fear in his eyes when he saw me standing there, between him and my mother, my eyes glowing. He ran away that night, and didn’t return. My grandparents came that summer to visit, and father still hadn’t returned he had been gone for six months now. But even after all that time mother would still jump at shadows. I knew her uneasiness centered on me and I asked her if she was mad at me for sending daddy away. She told me of course not. but warned be that I was never to use my magic again. I was almost twelve when I realized she was afraid the townspeople would burn me at the stake if they found out I had powers. It was the summer that I first witnessed a witch burning in Tangier. Two years went by and I turned seven summers old, things had been going fine until that night, that horrible night that changed my life forever,” she said shuddering. Sinbad was still silent letting her collect her thoughts and continue. He was still holding her and absentmindedly burying his face into her hair. She sighed snuggling closer allowing his warmth to warm her chilled soul. “Father came back, after two years he came back, but he wasn’t alone, he had that priest with him, Xavier. I was stunned and Father grabbed me before I could react, handing me to Xavier. The priest was going to sacrifice me for my power; I could feel his intent. Mother tried to stop him but she just wasn’t strong enough to fight him. Father became enraged yelling fanatically that I was a witch and had to be destroyed. My mother made one final attempt to stop him; she hit him with a chair and broke it over his back. He barely even reacted and I will never forget the look in his eyes as he started to hit her and hit her…and hit her. I…I remember she started to cry. He would…usually stop when she started to cry, like it meant he had won his way,” Bryn said tears now streaming down her face.
“But he didn’t stop this time,” Sinbad said quietly his voice angry. Only a weak, cowardly man would do that to a woman, and in front of their child. Sinbad hoped that Donavan was enjoying his place in Hell right now.
“No he didn’t stop,” Bryn said just as quietly. “I watched him beat her until she didn’t move anymore, then he stood back and spat on her, like she was dirt. I…became angrier then I had ever been before, I somehow managed to break away from Xavier. I could feel my power building up inside me until finally it erupted like a volcano. My father was a cloud of ash by the time I was done with him,” Bryn said in horror and self-loathing.
Sinbad tightened his embrace on her briefly and said fiercely, “It wasn’t your fault Bryn, you were young, and he killed your mother. I would have done the same thing,” he added matter of factly, knowing it to be true.
“But I killed him Sinbad, in my rage and anger I killed him,” she replied and added, “I should have found another way, the lack of control I have over my powers is…dangerous.” Bryn raised her head and looked Sinbad in the eye. “I’m dangerous to be around Sinbad, maybe even evil,” she said in horror of the fact that she was capable of murder at such a young age.
The young captain gripped her shoulders fiercely and replied, “No Bryn you are not evil, you had no choice. Bryn listen to me you were seven years old, he was a full-grown man who probably outweighed you by two hundred pounds. He would have killed you.”
Bryn pulled away from him then standing up and replied uncertainly, “Maybe Sinbad maybe.” She still wasn’t sure about herself yet, the memory being the traumatic experience of spoiled childhood innocence. But the young witch had to admit that talking to the captain went a long way to alleviating the immense burden of guilt she had been carrying around with her for the past three days.
“Come on Sinbad lets get back to camp,” Bryn said spinning on her heels.
She proceeded him back to camp and he had just risen to his feet about to follow. The young captain of the Nomad took two steps after her and then everything went black. He was out cold and didn’t hear Bryn’s scream as she was carried off into the night.
Sinbad awoke to the sound of Lonnie calling his name, and with a stamped of Clydesdales in his head. His vision was blurry and he could barely make out the shape of plump red head hovering above him. Still through the pounding in his brain he was able to fell panic.
“Bryn,” Sinbad said keeping his voice low and still holding his head in his hands. “Where’s Bryn,” he said again a little louder.
Lonnie’s faced paled and she answered, “I thought she was with you.”
Sinbad cursed low in his throat, “I was hit from behind, whoever clubbed me must have taken Bryn,” he said his voice harsh with anger and pain.
“But who could have done such a thing,” Lonnie said truly puzzled, “No one comes this deep into these woods for fear of the fey, and Xavier is still tied to the tree back at camp.”
“There is that word again, the fey, who are they exactly,” Sinbad asked the pain having subsided a little. “First the old man, then the sidhe I ran into, the villagers, they keep turning up in this little adventure and I want to know why,” Sinbad said tired of playing games with the forces behind this. It took him a minute due to his early disorientation to notice that as he spoke Lonnie’s face had become considerably paler and her eyes had a slight guilty look about it. Sinbad narrowed his eyes when he did notice and said.
“What do you know Lonnie,” It was a statement not a question.
The middle-aged woman was looking extremely guilty and unnerved now locking stares with the captain. Sinbad’s ocean blue eyes were piercing prying her secrets from her. The older woman took a deep breath getting ready to tell the captain the secret that had been hers and hers alone to keep for the last twenty-one years. Sinbad felt an ominous shiver travel up his spine as he waited for the woman to collect her thoughts.
“Bryn isn’t human,” Lonnie said simply starting at the most startling place in her tale.
“What!” Sinbad exclaimed, “of course she is that is…she,” Lonnie cut him off holding her hand up.
“Do you want to know this or not,” Lonnie said with an annoyed look, “I swore an oath to that child’s mother never to speak of what I know unless it would somehow save the young lass. I believe that time has come now, twenty-one years later,” the woman finished. Sinbad remained silent after that admonishment and waited for her to continue.
“And I correct myself, she has to be at least half human since she displays the human quality of compassion,” Lonnie mused thoughtfully. The robust red head gave a deep sigh and continued, “Shannon and I found the young lass Bryn in a field of wild flowers, naked except for the necklace she still wears around her neck. There was a note with her, not signed, it said that the child was no longer safe among her people and to any mortal who found her to raise her as their own. I had a brood of my own and didn’t have the resources to raise another one, but Shannon; she fell instantly in love with the wee babe, gladly taking her in. I warned her of course that this was more than likely a fey child and It might not be wise to take her in. Shannon of course didn’t care, she raised that girl as her own swearing me to secrecy about her origins.”
“You still haven’t answered my question, what are the fey,” Sinbad asked truly wondering why these people had a fear of these creatures.
“The fey are any of the veil folk that dwell in the land of faerie,” Lonnie answered a little nervously, “They are said to be fallen angels some of them, not good enough for heaven, nor evil enough to find a place in hell. It is why they are slightly feared by some mortals and loathed by others.”
“But you suspected Bryn’s origin and didn’t fear her,” Sinbad pointed out.
“You are right I didn’t fear that child, she is the most loving person that I have ever had the pleasure of walking this earth with. I do know however that due to the fey power inside of her, her wrath can be dangerous to behold. That is what I fear laddie, as should you,” Lonnie concluded forcefully.
“I will never fear Bryn,” Sinbad said with a quite sincerity that booked no arguments.
“Because you love her,” Lonnie said in resignation.
“Because I love her,” Sinbad echoed knowing the words to be the truest he had ever spoken in his young life. Funny he thought, finally admitting it had brought him a peace he had been searching for…for as long as he could remember.
“Then we had better go and find her,” the older woman said in determination, “and I know just were to look.”
Bryn awoke with a pounding headache, having to force her burning eyes to focus on her surrounding. When she was finally able to focus she realized that she was able to freely move. She was in a lavishly decorated bed chamber, the carefully woven tapestries hanging on the walls works of art in gold and silver thread. The furniture was beautifully polished wood, heavy, solid and gleaming. The young witch had never seen such a place before, not even in the Sultan’s palace. Bryn didn’t even try to fight her curiosity as she rose from the comfortable bed and started to survey the room. The young magic holder walked from one corner of the room to another in virtual awe of its grandeur. She was so caught up in her surroundings that she didn’t here the door open and missed seeing the absurdly dressed man that entered her room.
“Well Princess I hope that your camber’s suit your fancy,” the man said in a deep merry voice.
Bryn spun on her heels instantly alert. Stretching her abilities out she tried to sense if he intended her harm. The young witch found it strange that she sensed no danger in this place despite how she had gotten there.
“Who are you,” she asked calmly taking in the strange appearance of the man before her. He was almost a head sorter then she with pointed ears and cloven feet. Two small goat horns adorned the top of his head and his eyes danced with mischief. Bryn briefly wondered why she felt she had seen such a creature before.
“Who am I says the maiden most fair, remembers me not little one of the Golden Hair,” the little Goblin said with a perfect bow, “I am Robin Goodfellow, Puck if you dare choose, and you are the faeire Queen’s long lost muse.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Bryn said truly confused by this little Goblin’s way with words, “I don’t know any faerie Queen,” she added uncertainty in her eyes.
“Little Ellyllon knows not the Queen?
How this can be is not known to me.
Ah ‘tis no matter one most fair,
you are the heir of the Golden Hair.
In time your memory will seek your brain
and Fomor his death you will bring.
Still Finvarra awaits, he’s King come see,
The ruler of fey awaitith thee.”
The Puck said these words making no sense to the young witch. Puzzled and intrigued she followed the being wondering just what in the name of Allah was going on here.
Lonnie was busily walking around yet another hill making Sinbad even more impatient then he was a few minutes ago. The young captain was getting frustrated again and not liking it one bit. He vowed that if him and Bryn ever got out of this situation he would never allow himself to be frustrated again. It was too tiring of an emotion. Sinbad sighed again when he saw Lonnie check the ground for perhaps the hundredth time; he was about to suggest that they try another hill when the middle age woman all of a sudden jumped back. Sinbad watched astonished as ever so slowly the hill started to open and light poured from within its bowels.
“Well this is as far as I go sailor,” Lonnie said turning to the captain, “you have to do the rest yourself.”
The captain looked sharply at Lonnie and asked “Afraid!?”
Lonnie just glared at the young man and answered, “What are you daft, of course I’m not afraid, it is just that since you love her the way you do only you can go into Finvarra’a lair, and not get yourself trapped there for all eternity.” Lonnie replied like it was a perfectly reasonable explanation and any child should have known.
Sinbad actually had to smile at that and said, “Well then if that is the case then wish me luck.”
“Turn your shirt inside out first,” the middle aged woman said in exasperation. Rather then question this strange request he just did as he was told.
“There, now you be protected form their magic,” she said pleased that he had listened to her,” and I do wish you luck my boy.”
Sinbad gave the good-natured older woman a quick peck on the cheek causing her to blush, “Thanks Lonnie,” he said simply.
“Don’t be thanking me yet, off with you now, and mind what I told you about the King. He’s a wily one he is,” she said shooing him toward the entrance. He gave her a cocky grin and entered the faerie realm. Sinbad failed to hear Lonnie’s final words.
“Aye good luck to you indeed lad, you are going to need it.”
Bryn followed Puck into a majestic throne room, the likes of which she had never seen. Unlike the relative small circular shaped throne rooms the Sultan’s favored, this one was huge, with strange scenic tapestries, and long, lush rolled out carpets. The entire Nomad could fit in here, Bryn thought to herself. The large lavish reception hall was in sharp contrast to the two small figures perched on matching ornately carved thrones. Bryn sized both mysterious figures up as she approached them. The man, who she assumed to be Finvarra the King, was dressed in velvet with a large gold crown upon his prominent brow. The elf King was indeed handsome if somewhat short. He wore a short well-trimmed beard over his chiseled jawbone that was shot with a dusting of gray hair. His jet-black hair was also graying a little at the temples giving the king a distinguished look. If the King was handsome then the Queen was nothing beyond stunning. She had golden blonde hair that flowed in flaxen waves to the small of her back and her eyes were a startling pale blue. There was however coldness about her perfect features that chilled Bryn to her soul. The empath could feel the intense dislike the Queen had of her, not understanding why in the least. The young witch could also feel the fey Queen’s cold stare penetrating her soul, and was about to speak until Puck took it upon himself to introduce her.
“My King, my Queen, allow me to prevail,
upon the your grace and majesty,
and to tell you a tale.
Of old times past and new begun,
here the human, the thread is sown.
I present to you now the witch, the child
Many a man she has beguiled.
So without further ado I give you the way
The woman to bridge both mortal and fey.”
The King’s eyes held a twinkle of desire as he surveyed the young witch from head to toe. Her discomfort increased as she now noted the anger churning from his wife thanks to his little perusal.
“Thank you Robin, you will be richly rewarded for the service you have done me,” Finvarra said to the Goblin and then turned to Bryn. “Well my little half-ling allow me to introduce myself, I am Finvarra King of the fey of Ira, and this is my wife Oonagh my Queen.” The Queen gave Bryn a slight nod when the King introduced her, which the young witch returned in kind. She then focused her attention on Finvarra.
“Why do you call me half-ling, half of what, from what I have discovered both my parents were mortal,” Bryn said puzzled and a little angered by the term.
“If you speak of that Cur and his angel that raised you then yes they were indeed mortal, but they were not your parents by birth,” the King replied dropping this startling knowledge on the young witch.
“N-n-not my parents,” Bryn stuttered. Along with being stunned the young empath was feeling a variety of emotions, the tide of which almost overwhelmed her senses. How many more secrets must she endure she thought in anger. She forceful pulled her self together, faced the King and asked. “Then who are my parents, by Allah I have searched for so long, who brought me into this world,” she said unmindful of the tears that had started to fall.
“I know only of your mother, the Queen of the Daoine sidhe (Theena Shee), daughter of the sea God Manannan, last of the Tuatha de Danann (Tootha day danan). I know only her, Niamh of the Golden hair, she is your mother princess Bryn er Ellyllon,” the king said softly his voice raising with each title. “And now, you are mine,” he added calmly.
“What!!” Bryn exclaimed still reeling form this latest revelation and now to have him claim her like, like she was a prize to be won.
“Think again your majesty,” Bryn spat her anger having won it’s dominance over the others. “I’m leaving…right now,” and with that she spun on her heals.
The King simply replied in indifference; “I am sorry that you feel this way my little half-ling.” The King then calmly said to his nearest guards, “Kill her.” Bryn was instantly surrounded. The young witch shot shocked eyes to the King and then quickly turned her attention to the guards as one attacked. She sidestepped the attack and brought her right knee up into her attacker’s gut. The powerful blow knocked the wind out of the man who Bryn finished off with a savage blow his face, using the pad of her right hand to fell him. The sickening crack of bone could be heard as her fist broke his nose on impact. One down fifteen more to go the young witch thought silently hoping that Sinbad decide to join this little party.
Bryn used all of her considerable training to fend off three more attackers. All three went down and were not going to get back up again anytime soon, but Bryn was tiring. Another solider attacked, Bryn parried the blow expertly, with the sword she had taken from one of the fallen guards, and was able to fend him off. However while her sword was locked with the one soldier another had come up behind her and was about to cleave her into two matching halves. Mid-swing Bryn’s second attacker’s sword was halted be another’s and Bryn found herself starring at the most welcome sight ever to befall her. Sinbad quickly dispatched Bryn’s second attacker while Bryn, grinning now round house kick her opponent into dreamland. The two shipmates went back to back then and continued fighting the rest of the King’s men.
Sinbad was fighting harder then he had in a long time. Sweat was starting to pour down his brow as more and more soldier’s came out of the woodwork. The young captain knew that, as accomplished at fighting as him and Bryn were, they were still grossly outnumbered. Sinbad knew that he had to do something fast or him and his crewmate would be sharing matching caskets to go with their matching bracelets. That is when it hit him, something Lonnie told him about Finvarra coupled with what Mala had told him in Scratch’s lair. Ok then time for the brain to get us out of this mess.
“Finvarra,” Sinbad yelled while fending off yet another attacker, “I have a challenge for you.”
“And what might that be foolish mortal,” Finvarra said his amusement at Sinbad’s gall evident.
“I Sinbad, captain of the Nomad, master chess player, challenge you Finvarra king of the fey to a game of chess,” Sinbad said still fighting the guards. “If I win then me and Bryn leave with our lives and our freedom…lose…” Sinbad added letting the sentence dangle.
Finvarra just laughed at this challenge. He was considered far and wide as the best chess player, in the realm of mortal and fey. Kings had lost entire fortunes to the fey King in one match of game play. Still the young man’s arrogance intrigued him and he decide to see if this Sinbad could make good his boast. With a wave of his hand the soldiers stopped their attack.
“I accept your terms,” Finvarra said thinking that he had never won a battle so easily.
A few hours later, brow furrowed the captain of the Nomad was indeed regretting his boast. Sinbad had not been bluffing; he was an accomplished chess player having been taught the game by Master Dim-Dim. Still Finvarra was winning having taken most of the young captain’s pieces one being his queen. The young sailor had moved her out too soon in the game and the Fey King wasted no time in depriving him of her. Sinbad was starting to sweat now, nothing less than him and Bryn’s very lives rested on this game.
Finvarra was extremely content by the way this game had gone so far. He was an amiable enough fellow when things went his way and the game had indeed gone his way. With the satisfied smirk of one who knows he has won the Fey King made his next move.
Sinbad double blinked his eyes not sure if he had seen what he thought he had just seen, or if what had just happened, really happened. He looked at the board again and almost let out his exclamation of joy. His blue eyes locked with Bryn’s brown ones, the young witch having watched the game in silence, and saw her slight nod affirming what he already knew. Finvarra had made a mistake, a fatal mistake. The young captain had won, it was five moves away, but it was there. Finvarra’s arrogance had just become his undoing.
Sinbad took full advantage of his knowledge pausing to think over his moves like he was trying in desperation to find a way out of the game. The captain’s feigned desperation served its purpose as the Fey King continued to wear a haughty, self-assured look. Three moves in, however, the King noticed what was happening and started to sweat. He disregarded his discomfort though and continued to play. Two more moves later the King was angrily throwing the board across the room as Sinbad looked him right in the eye and said, “Checkmate.”
Chapter Six
Night had descended on the Emerald Isle as the moon brightly illuminated the fey hill of Knockmar. Deep within it’s protective embrace Sinbad tossed and turned trying to get to sleep in the lavish bed Finvarra had offered for the night. The King had been true to his word and tomorrow Sinbad and Bryn were to be free. Tonight however seemed to be the longest night he had ever endured. With a cry of disgust and exasperation the young captain threw off his covers. He had decided to see if Bryn was awake thinking that they hadn’t had much time to talk after his and Finvarra’s match. If he was being truthful with himself, which he wasn’t, he really just wanted to see her. Sinbad slipped from his bed pausing to pull on his leather pants, not bothering with the top button. He the padded over to the entrance of his room, the stones cool against his bare feet. The young captain paused, opened the chamber door, and gasped in surprise. Bryn was standing on the opposite side her hand raised to knock. She blushed slightly and they both spoke in unison.
“I was just coming to find you,” Sinbad said as Bryn was saying “, I wanted to see you”
“I..” they started together which caused them both to laugh.
“You first,” Sinbad said gently urging her to speak.
Bryn seemed to have forgotten how for a moment due to her captain’s state of undress. No one should look that magnificent sleep rumpled, but Sinbad managing to look dangerous and sexy instead of just messy.
“I… well, I could sleep and I wanted to see you,” Bryn admitted finally. Sinbad decide to shift to lean against the doorjamb, causing him to move closer to the young witch and invade her personal space. Flustered Bryn took a small step back from his naked chest.
Sinbad was having an equally hard time with Bryn’s state. The nightdress that Oonagh had lent the young witch was a sheer shimmering sliver. It gave Bryn an unearthly hue, like she had stepped right out of his dreams.
“I don’t want talk,” Sinbad said his eyes darkening with desire as he took in her form.
Bryn looked up startled that he refused her until she saw the look in his eyes. Giving her ample warning and ample time to back away Sinbad took a step in her direction towering over her. The young captain slipped his right arm around her waist and slowly drew her toward him. In reflex Bryn’s hands went up but she didn’t push him away. Instead her hands rested on his chest as he pulled her more tautly to him. He kissed her then, a passionate kiss that consumed her senses making it very hard to think coherently. Without breaking the kiss the young captain maneuvered the witch into his room closing the door behind them. When they both finally had to breathe he broke away and croaked hoarsely.
“Bryn if you stay here, we will make love, I want to know if you are sure,” he asked his eyes telling her that if she said the word they would both be sleeping alone that night.
Bryn bit her lower lip hesitating a little. She loved Sinbad; she had finally admitted the truth to herself when she had looked over her shoulder to find him side by side with her in battle. She just wasn’t sure if he loved her in the same way. Still if she was honest with her self, she wanted this, wanted to love and be love by him. So in answer to his question Bryn yr Ellyllon removed the four buttons on the back of her nightdress. Pulled down the sleeves and let the shimmer material pool down by her feet.
Sinbad gasped, by Allah she was beautiful. She stood before him naked, the torchlight dancing over her skin illuminating her taunt nipples and full breasts. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders and her liquid eyes brimmed with passion. Sinbad felt like a man drowning as he looked into those brown pools straight into the depths of her soul.
“You’re beautiful Bryn “he said softly, fervent in his meaning. The young witch blushed slightly at the compliment pleased that he thought so. He stepped in close again drawing her back into his embrace. This time her sensitive buds brushed his naked skin without the barrier of the nightdress. She gasped at the sensation slightly rubbing herself against her captain’s chest. Sinbad took advantage of her gasp to gently nip at her lips, using his tongue to moisten them. They exchange a series of soft kisses while Sinbad backpedaled her to the bed. The reached the large structure falling across the mattress like a couple of teenagers. The both laughed and then grew serious as Sinbad lay down next to her and got busy with the important business of exploring. The captain gently cupped the young witch’s breast causing a moan to escape her lips. He then repeated the action using his mouth to caress the taunt peak. Bryn gasped again and entwined her hands in his hair holding him to her breast. Sinbad noticed with amusement and briefly looked up to grin at her.
“Like that,” he said his voice a mixture of amusement and passion.
“Y-y-es,” Bryn stuttered her eyes opening briefly, but then his mouth was on her other peak and they drifted close again. Sinbad’s right hand was busy teasing the taunt peaks of her right breast, his tongue with her left. His left hand was busy making it’s way south and Bryn gasped as a new sensation made itself known. The captain had slipped two fingers past her folds and was gently stroking the sensitive nub there. Bryn felt the intrusion not sure what to make of it but never wanting him to stop. She blindly grabbed for his head and pulled his lips to hers for a kiss. Sinbad happily obliged his tongue dancing with hers in a dance as old as time. The young witch’s hands slipped down his chest and with a little hesitation took the initiative of brushing along the prominent bulge there. Sinbad broke the kiss grabbing her hands with his free one and pinning them above her head.
“Please Sinbad, I want to touch you,” she moaned struggling a little to get free.
“And I want you to touch me,” he replied, “but I also want this to be good for you,” he added his eyes telling her how much control it was taking for him to hold back.
Sinbad continued to fondle and caress the young witch until she was withering in passion beneath him. He then released her briefly using both his hands to free himself of his pants. Hers joined his in the effort of getting rid of the offending barrier until he was free under to her burning gaze. Bryn wasted no time and cupped him stroking him from base to tip. Sinbad shuddered at her touch but made no move to stop her. He let her explore his sex for a few more minutes more allowing her to get the feel of it. He then stayed her hands and positioned himself over her. Bryn met his eyes giving him a nod of agreement as the young captain positioned the tip in her folds. He then, ever so slowly started to enter her, his eyes intent upon hers. Sinbad’s eyes widened in shock however when he encountered a barrier he wasn’t expecting.
“Bryn you’re a…” Sinbad said trying to back away. Bryn was having none of that and she grasped his backside pulling him deep inside her with one thrust, before he could stop her. The young witch cried out in pain while Sinbad soothed her keeping as still as possible to let her adjust to the feel of him.
“Why didn’t you tell me,” he scolded gently while placing chaste kisses on her temples.
“I didn’t think you would, we would…and I wanted too,” Bryn finished lamely.
“Are you all right,” Sinbad questioned his concern evident.
“Yes,” she said looking deep in his eyes, and she was. The pain had subsided and Bryn now noticed the little darts of pleasure that were tingling along her nerves. Her hips jerked slightly, instinctively, causing Sinbad to moan his own pleasure. Bryn then took the opportunity to wrap her legs around her captain’s hips pulling him even deeper inside. Then Sinbad started to move, leaving all coherent thought behind for both of them. He started slowly at first and Bryn felt the pressure building and building until finally her world exploded into a flash of ecstasy, pin points of light exploding behind her eyes. Sinbad had held her gaze the whole time until her eyes closed convulsively. The young captain mouthed the words I love you silently to himself, still afraid of what her reaction to them would be. So when they finally separated and settled down in each other’s arms, Bryn slept and Sinbad held her tight wondering how he could ever let her go if she didn't love him back.
Bryn awoke with a jerk wondering briefly why she couldn’t rise. That is when Sinbad mumbled in his sleep and the young witch noticed the arm he had draped protectively over her waist. Every detail of the last few hours came flooding back and her cheeks flushed crimson. Some of the things they had done with each other should be illegal she thought mischievously. That is when she heard it, the sound on the night air that had awakened her. The wind was calling softly to her; it was calling her name. Puzzled the young witch gentle disentangled her self from her sleeping captain and hastily pulled her yellow dress on. She also donned her boots and almost as an after thought the oval necklace she always wore. She looked back at Sinbad tangled in the sheets, his magnificent naked chest bare to her gaze, and smiled telling her self that she definitely wouldn’t be gone long. She blushed again and went to investigate the sound. When she entered the hall she heard it again, she definitely wasn’t imaging things, some one was calling her name, her full name.
“Bryn yr Ellyllon,” the wind whispered gently.
“Who’s there,” Bryn replied suspiciously.
That is when she felt the change in the air, the temperature around her dropped to near freezing and the young witch shivered. Out of no where the energy came, small at first, and the consuming her in a ball of green fire. Bryn cried out in pain, fear now coursed through her blood, she didn’t know what was happening to her.
“Sinbad help me,” she screamed while instinctively summing her magic to fend off her invisible attacker.
Sinbad bolted awake as Bryn’s ear shattering cry for help reverberated off the castle walls. He sprung from the bed pausing only to rip on his pants and grab his sword. The young captain barreled out of the room, sword in hand, only to stop abruptly at the sight before him. Bryn was surround in sickly green magic.
“Bryn,” Sinbad screamed in fear and horror, right before she vanished into thin air. “Bryn!” he screamed again this time in pain.
Finvarra was yanked unmercifully from his bed, a sword at his neck. Blinking the sleep from his eyes he tried to focus on his attacker. To his astonishment and horror it was the young captain who had beaten him at chess. Not one to cower in fear in the face of any one, God, Mortal, or Fey, Finvarra roared.
“What is the meaning of this,” the angry elf king bellowed.
“Where is she,” Sinbad spat harshly on the brink of rage and madness.
“Who,” Finvarra countered anger and puzzled.
“Bryn,” the young captain replied softly but dangerously.
“She’s gone,” the Fey King asked, his featured paling before the captain.
“Yes she is gone, now where is she, only someone that possesses magic can make a person disappear in a ball of green flame,” Sinbad said pressing the sword tighter against the King’s throat.
“By Oberan it can’t be,”Finvarra mumbled to himself and then to the captain, “I didn’t take the young lass, mortal but I know who did.”
“Who” the captain replied calmer now but no less trusting as he kept his sword at the King’s throat.
“Fomor, the sea demon,” the King replied, “I’m sorry lad but she is lost to us all now.” Finvarra’s features were a mask of sorrow as he locked gazes with the young captain.
Sinbad lower his sword now his expression closed and determined. He glanced down at the rainbow bracelet that linked him and the young witch. He answered, displaying his bracelet to the King. “As long as she lives there as hope, and as long as there is hope I will find her,” Sinbad said his voice filled with fervent purpose
Bryn awoke to the smell of moldy fabric and dead fish. Here nose wrinkled and she tried to stand up to move away only to find herself chain to a wall. She tried to get her baring and almost screamed when she found out were the smell of moldy fabric was coming from. A few feet away sat what was left of the room’s former occupant. His flesh having long fallen off or having been eaten by scavengers and his ripped soaked clothing filling the cell with the moldy stench. Bryn gagged reflexively held back her dinner that threatened to reappear. Calmer now the young witch started to look for a way out until an unearthly voice froze her.
“My my...what a pretty young woman our witch has become,” the deep menacing voice said from the shadows.
“Who are you,” Bryn replied forcefully with a bravado she did not feel.
“Why I am Fomor, lord of darkest depths of the sea, and you young princess are my long awaited…companion,” he hissed, his voice almost gleeful.
“I don’t think so,” Bryn said in disgust.
“Well I’m afraid you don’t have much say in the matter, I gave your father power beyond his wildest dreams and he gave me you. You are mine, isn’t that right Lucian,” the evil creature said still not having shown itself.
Bryn turned her head as a new sound invaded her senses and watched as a handsome gentleman stepped out of the shadows from were the demon’s voice bellowed. He was dressed in Arabian garments and had dark hair and eyes just like Bryn’s. However, unlike Bryn’s eyes this man’s eyes were cold and dead.
“I’m afraid he is right daughter,” the man said making the word daughter sound filthy.
The young empath could feel the evil flowing from within this man, and she shrunk away from him instinctively. “You are not my father,” Bryn said shaking her head in denial and revulsion.
“Oh but I am, and scratch was right, how you could have sprung from my loins is the one of the great cosmic mysteries,” the man said his disappointment in her evident.
“I don’t understand, how could you have known about…” Bryn started to say but was cut off.
“How,” he replied harshly, “you want to know how,” he added his voice rising by the second. “Because I have been trapped here with only that thing as my companion for the last one hundred years. Your accursed mother ruined my plans, and I became trapped here. I have watched you for years, patiently waiting until the day of my vengeance arrived, and now it is nigh. I hate you and your mother more than anything Allah ever put on this earth,” he spat his madness and rage evident. “And since I can not take my vengeance on her, I will see her destroyed be the grief of losing you.”
“So you are going to kill me,” Bryn said in surprising calm.
Lucian approached his daughter then lifting her chin with his fingertips, and forcing her to meet her eyes. “No my little daughter I’m not going to kill you, I’m going to turn you. When Fomor is finished with you your soul will be as black as mine, nothing of Nimah’s precious little girl will exist,” her father said and then laughed, long, hard, and cruel.
Bryn tried not to show how badly his words crushed her spirit. Scratch was right about her; she did come from evil. This creature before her, one could hardly call him human, was the last of the proof she need. She felt herself slipping into despair, not caring anymore what happened to her. Her father noticed the change and smiled his pleasure. He wanted to cause her pain, grief, and he knew of her silent fear of she had of her self. His next words drove the last nail in the coffin of her goodness home.
“Guess what else my sweet little daughter,” he said in an almost gleeful tone. “How do you think the love of your life would react to your other dirty little secret.”
“You leave Sinbad out of this or I swear I’ll…” Bryn started to threaten but was cut off.
“You’ll what, flame me with your magic, ha you haven’t enough power to stop me little witch, your heart has made you weak. My brother Turok would be disgusted with what his baby brother’s only daughter has become,” Lucian replied cruelly.
Bryn’s eyes widen in horror and self-loathing as she realized what his words meant. “I can’t be related to Turok,” she said shocked beyond measure.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you my daughter, but you are, and what a disgrace to our family tree you have been. Fighting along side Sinbad of all people,” he father said shaking his head and tsking.
Bryn racked her newly found memory for anything that she could hurl in her father’s face to make his words untrue, but the young witch wasn’t in the habit of lying to herself. She felt in her heart the truth of his words and at that moment cursed the fates that she had ever been born. The pieces of her past had finally all fallen into place and Bryn wished now that she had never started this journey, had never found out the truth.
Chapter Seven
Dawn had broken over the Emerald Isle as a lone figure picked his way through the early mourning fog to the sea. A faint glow of rainbow hue could be seen through the thick swirling mass of air as Sinbad’s bracelet glowed leading him to Bryn. He was so intent upon his purpose that he didn’t see the wizened old blind man until he spoke.
“You know laddy we have to stop meeting like this,” the old man cackled startling the young sailor.
“You,” Sinbad exclaimed, “how did you…were…”
“That ‘tis not important now lad, the young lass is,” the man said his voice grave.
“How do you seem to know so much about us,” Sinbad asked wonder why the old blind man seemed to appear just when he needed him.
The man sighed and said, “Let me tell you a story lad. There once was a man, a warrior named Oisin (Isheen) of the legendary Fenian warriors. He set sail one day and found the Island of Tir na nog, the Isle of Eternal youth. There he fell in love with a beautiful woman named Nimah. The woman had a small wee babe daughter when Oisin came into her life and together they planed to raise the child. Even though the babe was not his, the warrior fell instantly in love with the child, but tragedy struck and the child was sent here, to the mortal realm that she might live. The child’s birth father was going to sacrifice the wee lass to the sea demon. Oisin saved the baby and Nimah left her in the mortal realm to be raised by mortals. Then Queen of the Daoine Sidhe (Theena Shee) arrived back to the Isle of Tir na nog right before it vanished.”
“Bryn was the baby,” Sinbad replied knowing it to be true.
“Aye that she was laddy,” the old man said wistfully. “And the time has come for her to face that which has haunted her through her years.”
“How do I get to her,” Sinbad asked.
“The coin do you still have it,” the old man asked. With a nod Sinbad dug into his pocket and produced the coin. “Rub the coin three times and the close your eyes, your heart will lead you to that which you seek.”
Sinbad opened his mouth to thank the old man but when he looked up to do so he was gone again. Sinbad just smiled and did as the old man said and in a flash the place were the young captain stood was empty. The old man waited until Sinbad was gone to revel himself.
“Good luck to you Sinbad the sailor, go, fly to Tir na nog, go save our girl,” and with those finally words, Oisin of the Fenian warriors, vanished into the mist.
Bryn sat chained to the wall wallowing in self-pity and loathing. The man whose blood she shared had sapped her confidence to the point was she didn’t care what happened to her anymore. So when the demon finally made itself know to her she barely reacted. Fomor was a hideous being, draped in seaweed and algae, drooling yellow ooze, and covered head to tow with scales. The monsters burning red eyes focused on the young witch who had retreated back into herself. With a lecherous glint in his inhuman face the demon started toward her his intent evident in his arousal. Lucian had left this part of the cave not wanting to see the act that was to be committed by the monster. Not out of any lingering love for his daughter but in disgust of having to see the creature, which was his master, perform such a deed. Bryn noted with disinterest as the creature approached her and knelt before her. His gruesome hands came forward traveling down Bryn’s body, but the young witch was no longer there, her mind having closed in on her. She had known that this was to be her fate thanks to her father. Bryn was close to powerless to resist thanks to the metal torture Lucian had inflicted on the young witch. She had been brain washed, she truly believed that because of her family she was evil. Lucian had used a technique similar to that the Nazi’s used during World War II on captured POWs to convince Bryn of her inner darkness. That is why when the sickening rip of fabric was heard, from Fomor ripping her dress, she barely even reacted. The demon smiled his pleasure again, ready to take her in the most primal way. Bryn might as well have been dead for all the fight she put up that is, until something started to force it’s way into her battered subconscious. It was a woman’s voice sweet and musical.
“Bryn you must fight back, you must,” the voice in her head shouted ringing in her mind.
“I can’t, I’m evil so I should belong to evil” she answered back in despair.
“No daughter, my beloved little girl, please listen, you are not evil,” the woman said desperate to reach her child.
“But Daddy said so, daddy said I’m evil,” Bryn answered like a child. The young witch had started to rock back and forth repeating that phrase.
“Search your heart my little one, your answers lie there, search your heart for your strength,” the woman replied her voice fading.
Search my heart Bryn thought to herself. On the outside she still appeared to be in a state of living death but inside, inside the voice had touched that inner core of strength that made Bryn all that she was. In that instant the young witch’s rainbow bracelet started to glow in brilliant hues, her mind clearing from the spell she had been under. Fomor recoiled in pain from the brilliant glow of Bryn’s rainbow bracelet, pain coursing through the demon. The bracelet that was given to protect her had fulfilled its purpose keeping the demon from his intent. It all came flooding back, everything and she knew. She knew she could love, had loved, knew that no matter whom she came from that evil did not dwell inside her, and she knew that she had the power to stop the evil intent of her loathsome father. Fomor had recovered from his pain and was just about to mount the young witch when all of a sudden her eyes started to glow yellow. Bryn lashed out at the demon with her power and sent him flying back into the water he had slunk from. She then turned to her manacles and used her mind to release one hand and then the other. Free now the young witch stood adjusting her ripped dress and faced the thing that had bought her father’s soul. They demon had recovered and was now rushing Bryn.
Sinbad had arrived in the cave in time to see Bryn almost get raped by the demon. He rushed forward intent on ripping the foul creature limb from limb. That is until Bryn took the matter out of his hands. He watched in amazement as a controlled Bryn used her magic to send the demon flying and then calmly freeing herself. He was about to rush forward to help when the roar stopped him. He looked in time to see the demon recover and charge Bryn.
“Bryn look out!” the captain yelled in warning.
Bryn’s head turned toward his voice briefly locking eyes with her captain’s and then turned her attention back to the charging demon. With a wave of her hand a gale force wind swept forth diverting the demon’s attack once again. The princess of Tir na nog then summoned all her energy, all that she was, and yellow flame poured forth from her eyes enveloping the evil creature. The thing screamed an unholy scream of pure and utter agony, flaying about trying desperately to put out the fire. Bryn watched dispassionately as the loathsome creature gave one final cry and dropped dead at her feet. She then turned back to Sinbad wearing a cocky grin, but the grin died the instant it formed, for behind the man she loved more than life itself stood her father with a knife posed to strike.
“Father NO!!” the young witch screamed in anguish. Her cries did not stay his hand though and he brought the knife down through Sinbad's back piercing the sailor’s heart. Sinbad’s shocked blue gaze briefly locked with Bryn’s anguish filled dark brown eyes. He held out one arm to her dropping to his knees.
“I…love…you….B-Bryn, never forget that I…” Sinbad said right before falling down dead.
“NOOOOOO!!” Bryn screamed in anguish rushing toward the fallen captain. She reached him and fell to her knees cradling his head in her hands. Her eyes were filled with grief, which was quickly replaced with rage and hatred as she tuned her glowing yellow eyes on her father.
“You are dead,” Bryn said to her father, her voice filled in eerie calm. Her father just looked on his handiwork gleefully and turned to her.
“Oh my dear one, I don’t think so” her replied evilly, and with a nasty gleam in his eye he stretched his right had out to her. A bolt of pure purple magic left his fingers; Bryn was lifted away from her captain and slammed into the unforgiving wall of the cave. Her head connected with a sickening thud and she almost black out. Shaking off the blow Bryn reacted with one of her own. Catching the glint of fire light to her right, the young witch found a torch. Under the glare of her eyes the fire became a living, breathing entity and a stream of the plasmatic substance shot forth engulfing her father. The wizard burned but didn’t burn and Bryn’s eyes widened in astonishment at the sight.
“Impressive daughter, most impressive, but as you can see not good enough,” Lucian taunted using his own power to extinguish the flames. At Bryn’s shocked gaze he added gleefully.
“I’m sorry daughter, did I forget to mention that I was immortal.”
Bryn was about to come back with an angry retort until someone else beat her to it.
“I’m afraid you did neglect to mention that little fact to our daughter,” a beautiful golden blonde woman said stepping from the shadows. Bryn’s eyes widen, she knew that voice; it was the one that had invaded her mind, and helped her break the spell of despair she had been trapped in.
“Nimah,” Lucian bit out in a curse.
“Yes Lucian, thanks to my little one, Fomor is dead and your hold on the land of Tir na nog has gone with him,” Nimah answered her former lover.
Lucian's eyes widened in horror and fear as he started to back away from the Fey Queen. His jaw was slack and he was shaking his head back and forth in a negative gesture. Then Nimah spoke as power crackled around her.
“Elements of earth, above, below.
The Dannann cries, draws you fourth.
Remnants of my clan long past.
Hear my words and hold them fast.
This man Lucian has the law destroyed,
So I banish him into the void.
Tir na nog he must now depart,
Never again to be found in it’s heart.
The earth crackled and the ground shook the foundations of the Isle rattling. Lucain’s otherworld screams echoed as magic entered his being. “Nooooo,” the sorcerer screamed his imaging blurring as the magic ripped fragments of his black soul from his body. In a few minutes, calm settled and Lucian, brother of Turok, was gone. Bryn spared her father barely a moment’s grief rushing forward and grasping the limp body of her love.
“Mother,” she pleaded with Nimah as she cradled Sinbad’s lifeless form in her arms.
“I am so sorry my little one,” Nimah said softly. The Fey Queen watched in sorrow as she witnessed her daughter’s heart shattering into a thousand pieces. She swore to her self by her family name that all would be done for him that was in her power to grant, and with a wave of her hand all three vanished from the cave.
Chapter Eight
Sinbad awoke with a strange feeling, his body felt light, transparent, and he was surrounded by a brilliant light. He didn’t know were he was and he tried to shake the confusion from his brain. The young captain had a vague sense of urgency driving him on. There was something he had to do, someone he had to see, but by Allah he couldn’t remember whom? Who did he have to find?
“I can answer that my son,” a familiar voice said off to Sinbad’s left.
Sinbad turned toward the familiar voice his confusion turning to joy. “Mala!” the young captain exclaimed and gathered the blonde woman into his arms. She returned the embrace enthusiastically holding her youngest child to her bosom.
“Oh Sinbad, it is good to see you,” she replied tears drifting down her cheeks.
Sinbad felt immense joy at seeing the lovely woman that had helped him through Scratch’s lair, but also a strange kind of sorrow. It was then that her use of the word son penetrated his brain.
“Wait Mala, did you call me son?” he asked curiosity in his words.
“Yes Sinbad, you are my Sinbad, my youngest,” his mother answered tears in her eyes.
“Then that means that I’m…” he said trailing off.
“Yes my son you are,” Mala said sadly.
Sinbad sighed, a strange mixture of joy and sadness in his heart. The young captain couldn’t help but think that there was something he still had to do a reason to remain with the living.
“Mother I can’t go with you, I have to go back there is something…” he said trailing off.
“Yes my son there is something, and so you must go back,” Mala said in encouragement.
“But I don’t want to lose you again either, oh mother I am so confused,” Sinbad answered despair in his voice. Mala made no move to interfere as Sinbad tried to collect his thoughts. She was here to help him either way he chose, but was forbidden to help him in his decision. Sinbad knew that there was someone waiting for him, someone important, but it hurt for him to thin. He was just about to tell Mala that he wanted to go with her, wanted the pain to stop when a voice erupted in his brain, a beautiful familiar voice. The rich sound flowed over his subconscious and he heard the words. “Sinbad, please come back to me, I love you, no one but you, I will love you forever.” The young captain knew that voice and ever so slowly a picture began to form in his mind. It was a woman, a woman with the most beautiful deep brown eyes he had ever had the pleasure of drowning in. The vision formed in his mind and Sinbad only one word… “Bryn.” It was spoken softly, like a caress.
“Yes Bryn,” his mother answered just as softly,” go to her my son.”
“But mother what about you,” Sinbad asked his eyes filled with concern.
“I will be fine my son, just fine,” Mala said, a soft smile curving her lips. “Now go.”
Mala pushed her son gently away from her his ocean blue eyes meeting hers one last time right before he vanished.
“Take care of him Bryn, and be happy, both of you,” Mala said before turning and vanishing herself.
Sinbad awoke with a searing pain in his back and his angel hovering above him, her face stained with tears. Bryn had never looked as beautiful to him as she did to him that moment and he knew that he would never leave her again.
“Angels should…never…cry,” the captain croaked out painfully.
Bryn’s shocked eyes flew to his face when she realized that he had spoken.
“Sinbad your alive!” she exclaimed excitedly, “Mother he is alive,” she cried again.
“Of course...I am…couldn’t leave the crew…to suffer…through your …cooking,” the captain teased.
Bryn gave a joyous laugh and kissed him lightly on the lips careful not to disturb his wounds.
“I don’t know how you have come back to me, but it is enough that you have,” the young witch said tears of joy on her face.
“I love you Sinbad,” she said softly.
“I know, I love you…Bryn,” the captain said before drifting in to unconsciousness. Bryn let him sleep knowing in her heart that he would never leave her again.
Bryn stood on the deck of the ship Nimah had given them the moonlight bathing her features, and the night breeze caressing her dark tresses. Her and her mother had talked, laughed, cried, and loved, making up for years lost to the time of the mortal realm. Nimah had wanted her daughter and her captain to stay in Tir na nog; Bryn was the successor to the Daoine Sidhe throne after all. The young witch knew however that Sinbad’s home was the sea and her home would always be with him. Bryn had watched as her captain’s strength had returned, thanks to the magical properties of the Isle, she had also noted in amusement how restless he started to become. She knew the day had come when they had to leave when she saw him standing in the balcony of their shared room starring out at the sea in longing. So she had said good bye to her mother and they had left together. The young witch knew she had made the right decision and her mother knew it too. Bryn was lost in her thoughts, joyous thoughts this time, and she failed to hear the figure step up behind her. Two strong arms encircled her waist and a feather light kiss brushed her neck. The half-ling witch started in surprise and then her lips curved in pleasure as Sinbad nuzzled her neck.
“A dinar for you thoughts,” the young captain asked, his warm breath flowing over her ear.
“You know I’m having this overwhelming feeling of dej vu,” Bryn answered teasing.
“Maybe I should just seduce you then since last time we played this scene I ended up chasing you across the sea,” he said smiling and nibbling at her earlobe.
Bryn moaned and then jabbed a playful elbow into his ribs; he reacted with a false ooof. “You are never going to let me live it down are you,” she said laughing.
“Nope,” he said with a grin that turned serious, “Do you regret knowing,” he asked softly.
Bryn didn’t have to ask him knowing what. Her face took on a thoughtful look as she carefully answered. “You know I thought I did but now…I may not have had an ideal past but it is my own. I had two mothers who loved me and two fathers that, well let's just say that they weren’t fond of me. Not to mention that there are still holes in my memory, mostly having to do with the time I was lost at sea after grandfather sold me.” Bryn said this while softly stroking her bracelet. “But there is one thing I have now because of this voyage that I will never regret.”
“What is that,” Sinbad asked truly puzzled, “your past?”
Bryn just smiled and turned in his arms to face him. Looking him strait in the eye she replied softly, “No…you.” Sinbad answered her with a wide smile of his own and Bryn kissed him. The two lovers stayed like that for a long time exploring each other’s lips until the captain of the Nomad swept a laughing Bryn yr Ellyllon, Princess of Tir na nog up into his arms and carried her below.
Epilogue
The sun was shining bright in the port of Tangier and Sinbad stood by his brother looking very nervous. The young captain was dressed in his best clothes, his goatee neatly trimmed and his flyaway hair brought under control with the leather strap holding it together. His brother was equally handsome as he also wore his best clothes having trimmed his beard. He clapped his little brother on the back grinning, which only caused the captain to become more nervous. Sinbad’s blue eyes scanned the crowd that had gathered picking out Firouz and Rongar. The moor wore a red vest and black leather pants, very distinguished looking and had Dermott on his arm. Firouz was dressed in his normal blue shirt and brown pants but had tamed his hair for the occasion. The only one missing was Bryn. The young witch had yet to make an appearance and that is what accounted for the captain’s nerves. The crowd was milling about talking until the music started. A hush fell on the people present and Sinbad’s head snapped up. His full lips stretched into one of his knee weakening smiles and the one that had occupied his thoughts paused at the door. She was beautiful, dressed in white with a ring of flowers entwined in her dark hair. Nolen had a smile on his face the size of Asia as he led the procession from the back of the temple, Bryn on his arm. Lonnie was trailing behind the magistrate and his granddaughter as they all made there why to the front to a nervous but happy Sinbad. The young captain of the Nomad never broke eye contact with the young witch as she strode up the aisle. When the procession reach the altar Nolen gave the bride to be away and Lonnie took her place by Bryn’s side as the maid of honor. The two lover’s never broke eye contact through the entire ceremony and it was, for once without incident, that Sinbad and Bryn were joined together in the eyes of God, Law, family, and eternity.
You wrote very well in your story. I'm not really a B/S fan (don't get me wrong, I love Bryn as a character) but I felt that if the story is good enough it's worth reading. Just a question though, you have Puck there, but used Finvarra a Celtic legend of faerie, instead of Oberon and I'm just curious if that was intentional or not. I'm a stickler for little details. Still, I thought that it was very well written if not sometimes graphic to the point that made me blush. Hopefully you'd use that skill to do a Maeve fic once in a while? I could hope couldn't I?
I am glad you liked the story and yes the use was indeed intentional. I need a mischivious hobgoblin for my story and was unable to find one amoung the Irish fey lore that I liked. So I empolyed a insy weensy bit of artistic lincense and lent Puck to Finvarra. Kudos though, I wondered if anyone would notice that discrepency.
= )
Bryn stood at the lavishly decorated window holding a silent vigil over the sleeping seafaring town of Tangier. The moonlight streaming in her window illuminated her tasteful decorated chamber and her troubled features. The magistrate had been wonderful company this evening, inviting the crew to stay the night after the lavish feast he had served them all. But for some reason sleep eluded the young witch, despite the food and wine that had seemed never ending. It was strange she thought for her to feel so uneasy within these wall. Nolen had been a gracious host, and had done everything etiquette demanded of a man of importance, to make his guests welcome in his home. Still the young witch was restless; the walls here felt alien and yet familiar all at once. Bryn sighed and was about to return to her bed when there was a knock at her door. The young witch wondered whom it could possible be since the men of the crew had all overindulged in Nolen’s excellent wine. She knew that they would be in Morpheus’ realm until the morning. Bryn went to her door and opened it all the while on guard for any type of ambush. Outside with his hand raised to knock again was Nolen; the young witch’s eyes widen in suprise as she asked.
“Nolen,” she exclaimed startled. “Is something wrong with the crew,” Bryn asked thinking that nothing else beside a problem with her friends would bring the magistrate to her door at this hour.
“No no my dear,” the magistrate replied with a smile, “your friends are fine, sleeping like babes,” he added his tone light.
Bryn could tell that the magistrate’s light tone of voice was forced and the young empath could feel…well she was quite sure what it was she felt coming from the elderly man.
“Would you like to come in,” the young witch asked curious as to why he could possible be here.
“Yes…yes,” he said stuttering a little and not meeting her eyes. The magistrate entered her camber, taking his time looking around like he had never seen the rooms of his own home before. Bryn’s face still wore a puzzled look, but she refrained from asking any questions sensing the older man’s state of mind. The young empath waited patiently as the older man collected his thoughts and finally turned toward her.
“I couldn’t figure out why you didn’t seem to recognize me Elly,” he said in slightly pained voice. “That is until I spoke with Captain Sinbad,” he added his green eyes finally meeting her dark ones.
Bryn gasped and then shook her head in denial. She felt fear radiating from him…fear of her and she didn’t want to believe what he was telling her.
“My name is Bryn,” she said matter of factly, “not Elly,” she added. The young empath knew that this was her name, knew that her mind had not betrayed her on at least this one small aspect from her past.
“Aye little one that it is,” Nolen replied his eyes becoming softer. “Bryn yr Ellyllon,” he smiled and then continued, “my daughter Shannon always did love those stories of the fey that her mother filled her head with when she was little,” his eyes taking on a far away look at the memory. The old man shook his head ruefully and added, “She was even convinced that you were faerie blessed.”
Bryn was having a little trouble taking this in; she was stunned to say the least and lashed out at the magistrate thinking that he was just toying with her emotions.
“You said you granddaughter was dead, that man Lars…he saw the body,” Bryn replied harshly. “How could you do something like this to me,” she continued before the old man could speak “Sinbad in his drunken state tells you I can’t remember my past and you decide to have a laugh at my expense? Is this fun for you magistrate,” the witch added all the anger and pain she usually repressed welling up inside of her. The young witch hugged herself like she had a chill and shot grief filled eyes to Nolen.
Nolen’s own eyes were filled with pain and grief as her accusations washed over him in waves. He wondered again if he should have just let her discover her connection to him on her own, but knew that it was already to late to just walk away. It was too late the moment he saw her, here, alive at the festival.
“Your grandmother possessed some mind magic…a young girl about your age died,” he said not really sure where to begin. “The illusion was easy after we had a body to give your identity to,” he finished lamely
Bryn’s eyes widened when she heard Nolen’s answer. She had heard of mind magic in one of the port towns the Nomad had docked in earlier that year. “I think I had better sit down,” the young witch said in shock. She somehow managed to make it to her bed and perched on the edge of her mattress.
“I’m sorry to so this to you little one, I am, but I believed you were dead,” he said his eyes pleading. It was what they were pleading for that really confused Bryn. He wanted her forgiveness she realized as her abilities stretched out before her.
“Why do you want me to forgive you,” the young witch questioned truly puzzled and wary. At his pained look Bryn continued a little nasty in the face of his remorse. “I mean if what you saying to me is that you’re my Grandfather then what happened between us in the past that you need my forgiveness for.”
Nolen sighed, he knew that he had to tell her the whole story and hope that her heart had remained as pure and good as her remembered.
“It is not a pretty story lass,” he said his face aging years right before the young witch’s eyes, “but you have a right to know.” When Nolen glanced up again his eyes had resigned look in them.
“Tell me,” Bryn said softly but with a determination and strength that belied her small stature. She had been searching for the pieces to her past for over a year, and she wasn’t about to be a coward in the face of the information Nolen was going to impart.
Aye…aye,” the magistrate said on a sigh and paused to gather his thoughts. “It all started when my daughter, your mother, married a man named Donavan without your Grandmother’s or my blessing. Donavan had come at the time to visit Lars whom I knew from my former land, the land of Ira. I had disliked Donavan the moment I met him, but Shannon, she was headstrong and in love…so she defied me. We had a falling out; both of us saying things that we didn’t mean but in our stubborn pride never took back. Donavan took my little girl that very night, spiriting her off to the land of Ira, my daughter and I never had the opportunity of resolving or differences. I can still remember the words, her expression of anger…stubborn pride. I told her that she wasn’t my daughter and that I had never wanted to see her again,” Nolen grimaced remembering the harsh words. He continued his voice choking, “The last emotion to grace her lovely face after I carelessly said those words was, was betrayal. If it weren’t for my wife, Lysia, I would never have even known you were born. But my wife, Allah rest her gentle soul, kept in secret contact with Shannon, one day she getting the message that she had a little girl. Lysia wrote back that she wanted us, me and my daughter, to put aside our differences and allow us to come see the child. Shannon answered her letter telling us that it wasn’t a good time, and that Donavan still had not forgiven me for disowning her. It wasn’t until five years later that we found out that she was lying to us. That was the year that Shannon told us to come visit and the first time I laid eyes on you,” he paused smiling at Bryn. “You were five summers old, a beautiful child, a bundle of mischief and laughter, and we adored you the moment we met you. Still despite our joy at finally seeing you, we were severely troubled be the appearance of our daughter. She was covered in bruises and eerily docile. If my Shannon was anything when she was younger it was a born firecracker, she had a temper sometimes that could shake the foundations of Tangier,” the magistrate said smiling in memory.
“What had happened,” Bryn questioned softly speaking for the first time since her Grandfather had begun.
“Well she said that she had tripped and fallen down a hill, like a fool I believed her,” he spat bitterly. “To this day I can’t get any answers about what really happened to your mother,” he said looking his granddaughter strait in the eye.
“You mean my mother is…” Bryn said trailing off not really ready for this revelation.
Nolen cursed under his breath, he had forgotten that she didn’t remember, “Aye lass I’m sorry, your father too,” he tried to add softly but his words were laced with bitterness.
“How did they…” Bryn asked still not able to complete the thought.
“I don’t know,” Nolen replied only being half-truthful. He mentally kept his emotions in check, as he knew his granddaughter could pick up on them. He had enough painful memories for her right here in Tangier; he didn’t need to add to them right now.
The young witch nodded not really able to go down that road right now, besides she had a feeling that she wasn’t going to like the rest of Nolen’s story.
“So what happened to me after my parents…died,” she asked softly.
“Well little one that is were what I know becomes sketchy. Your Grandmother and I received the message that your parents were deceased two summers after we had visited you and that you had vanished. We were devastated thinking that you were lost to us and withdrew into a substantial period of mourning. For two summers after the news we received no visitors or participate in anything resembling a normal life. Then one day you just appeared on our doorstep, a wiry ten-summers-old in ragged clothes. You had changed though, the laughter had left you, and although you were young you had ancient eyes. We were thrilled however that you were alive and with us, so we didn’t question how you appeared on our doorstep. Besides you couldn’t remember what had happened to you the last two years,” Nolen said lost in the past.
Bryn’s face took on a wry look, “I seem to have a habit of that,” she said her sense of humor peeking through.
It took Nolen a moment to register the joke, ”Aye you do at that,” he added with a grin. The old man’s face took on a serious look once again as he fortified himself with a deep breath to continue. Bryn noted the change and waited for the inevitable.
“It was hard at first, with you the way you were when you first showed up, but through love and understanding you eventually found your way back to mischievous imp of our fond remembrance. Things were grand for a few years; it was like having our daughter back again. I felt that I had been given a second chance to do things right this time. Your Grandmother and I even argued about your schooling just like we did with Shannon. I prevailed this time and you were taught self-defense along, with history and science. You however didn’t have the knack for science that I did and hated every minute of it,” Nolen finished on a laugh then continued. “Aye it was grand.”
“But it changed somewhere,” Bryn prompted.
“Yes…” Nolen sighed, “When you were sixteen you…killed a man,” Nolen added not knowing how to soften the blow.
“What!,” Bryn cried out in shock. The young witch hadn’t expected that revelation and all her surprised brain could think of was “I’m surprised you’re with these do gooders, What with your pedigree and all.” Scratch’s taunt echoed through out her mind and Nolen had to shake her to bring her back to reality.
“Bryn, BRYN!!,” he said shaking her, “You don’t understand, I didn’t even understand until later. When it was too late,” he finished weakly.
The young witch slowly clamed down and got control of herself. She fought her overwhelming need to run away from Nolen and gestured for him to continue.
“It…I mean he…,” the magistrate started stuttering, “He, Jarvis, had been beating his wife for years, but no one knew about it, or the ones who did didn’t tell anyone. One night after a late class you came upon him in a drunken rage beating his wife to near death. You knew that he was going to kill her so you attacked using your training to pull him away from his intended victim. Apparently Selena took the opportunity to run away and left you to defend yourself against her angry husband. So when the commotion finally drew people to the scene all that was left for them to see was you standing over the burned out shell that had once been Jarvis with your eyes glowing. The towns people that where there, some of them who called themselves your friends, started to throw stones yelling demon, witch, and other names that where far worse. I arrived in time to keep them from killing you. I arrested you then, stone faced, while you begged me to listen to you, blood streaming down your face from your wounds and covering your hands,” Nolen said in a whisper almost as if he didn’t really know Bryn was there anymore. Bryn was having a hard time staying in reality herself this whole story was surreal, a nightmare that she would wake up from any minute now. The young witch’s need to just run away was unbearable now. She had to force herself to sit on the bed and wait for her…grandfather to continue, and he did. “The problem was that no one had seen the man beating his wife, and she was no where to be found. The townspeople believed that you had killed both of them in a demonic rage, so you were sentenced to death for his murder and hers…without a trial. I…didn’t know what to make of it all…I mean elemental magic was considered the touch of the Sidhe (Shee) were I had come from and I was scared. Scared of my own granddaughter,” he added in disgust with himself. Bryn opened her mouth to interrupt but he stayed her with a raised hand. “Your grandmother believed you though, she went to you every day you spent in the city prison, but I wouldn’t listen to her. I think that it was the heartbreak of believing you were dead that killed her, she was just never the same after that, and I don’t think she every really forgave me. You see I was the one who…who was suppose to carry out the sentence, and no matter how many times you pleaded with me, told me what really happened I didn’t believe you. But the time came and I couldn’t kill you. That night I sold you to a captain passing through on his way to Baghdad as servant. It wasn’t until after the ship sailed that Jarvis’ wife, Selena, came forward, and confessed that you had saved her life. Later I found out that the ship had been wrecked in a storm off the coast of Baghdad with no survivors found,” he finished in the tone of the man confessing his sins to an unsympathetic judge.
Bryn digested this information in supriseing calm and out of habit touched her rainbow bracelet drawing comfort from its presence, knowing that this must have been the storm which cased her to receive the strange piece of jewelry. “Do you still believe I’m evil,” the young witch asked afraid of the answer.
“No granddaughter,” he said sincerely, ”I only hope you can forgive me for what I did to you,” he added, afraid that she wouldn’t be able to, and knowing that he didn’t deserve her forgiveness.
The young witch didn’t really know what to say, it was all so new to her. Her emotions were in a shambles, and her mind still refused to allow her to treat these memories as her own. This was just a story to her, a past that she couldn’t remember that held no meaning. There were still so many missing pieces, such as what happened to her parents, and what happened to her before she was ten. She new that she would have to find the answer’s to these question if she were ever really to know who she was.
Nolen was silent as he watched his granddaughter try and understand what he had just told her. He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he was going to get from her so he waited fearful that she wouldn’t be able to cope with her new knowledge of her past.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” she said softly and his face filled with despair. Seeing the older man’s reaction the young sorceress rushed to explain. “What I mean is that I still can’t remember what you have told me on my own and I’m not sure how I will feel when I do,” she added and Nolen gave her a confused look.
“What do you mean granddaughter,” Nolen questioned.
Bryn was starting to get edgy and she got up to pace around the room, “I mean that this is still just a incredibly sad and tragic story to me right now, It happened to a stranger, one that is hiding inside of my mind,” she added trying to explain. “Until I can access my own memory’s about what happened then I won’t know if I can forgive you or not,” she added pleading for understanding.
The light finally went on inside his brain, as he understood what she was trying to tell him. He also noticed the dark circles that were forming under his granddaughter’s eyes and decided the rest of this could wait until mourning.
“I understand,” he said softly, “How about we continue this in the mourning then,” he added as she bit back a yawn.
“Yes,” she replied tired, dazed, and confused. She then opened the door and let him out of her room. When Nolen had left Bryn turned around and leaned against the door. She knew that no sleep would come to her tonight only questions about a past that was just starting to open up to her, one that she wasn’t sure she wanted to know about anymore.
Sinbad awoke with the mourning sun streaming into his open window. The room the young Captain had shared with his brother was almost the image of Bryn’s. Sinbad had to bit back a grin as his brother snored and rolled over. He had to admit that Nolen threw a good party as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. Deciding to let his brother sleep a little longer the young captain went in search of a bath and breakfast, in that order. He was getting dressed when the note by the door happened to catch his eye. With his chest bare the young captain padded barefoot across the room bent down and picked up the note. He caught site of his name printed on the top in Bryn’s unmistakable handwriting. A frision of fear shot up his spine as he opened the letter with trembling hands.
Sinbad,
I’m sorry to say goodbye this way, but something has happened. I have found a piece to my past, to who I was if not who I am. My quest has begun and no matter were I go I will always remember the Nomad and the family that I have there. I’m sorry but I have to do this alone, tell the others goodbye for me and be safe, all of you. Please take care of Dermott for me and don’t follow me Sinbad; please just let me go.
Love,
Bryn
Sinbad had to read the note twice before he understood what he was reading. Once the message sunk in to the captain’s tired brain he crumpled the paper in his fist holding it tightly and broke for the door. Sinbad ran down the hall half dressed, his bare feet striking the cold stone floor. The young captain of the Nomad burst into what had been Bryn’s room not bothering to knock, his panic driving him on.
“BRYN!! , BRYN!!” he yelled even though he knew she wasn’t there. He was so crazed he even searched the room and checked under the bed. Just then a bed rumpled Nolen and Doubar appeared in the doorway glaring at the young captain.
“Sinbad your making more noise than Jinn destroying a city,” his brother complained all the while holding his head in his hands.
“She’s gone Doubar,” Sinbad said his voice think with despair and hurt, “she just…left.”
“Who’s gone?” Doubar questioned having not awakened yet.
“Bryn,” he said again his voice bitter. He just couldn’t believe she would up and leave just like that. No goodbye, just sneaking out in the middle of the night, like a common thief. To say the least the captain was in a state of shock. What could have triggered this he questioned himself? He got the answer to his unspoken question when he saw Nolen brace himself on the doorjamb to stay steady on his feet.
“By Allah,” Nolen said his voice filled with shock and guilt, “I never thought that she would…I mean I wouldn’t have told…” he started to say but trailed off.
Nolen’s words shook Sinbad out of his own shock as his blue eyes narrowed on the magistrate.
“Wouldn’t have told her what,” Sinbad questioned his whole body radiating suspicion. Nolen was too lost in his own guilt to notice the change in the captain.
“About the past,” the oldest of the three men said dazed, “I wouldn’t have told her about the past, oh my poor Elly,” he added and sunk to his knees in despair hanging his head.
Sinbad saw red, rage filling him beyond anything he had ever known as he stalked toward the fallen magistrate. The young captain lifted the older man by the lapels of his sleeping gown, hauling him up and slamming him back against the wall. Storm tossed blue eyes met green as Sinbad growled.
“What about the past, Where is she,” he practically yelled. Then Doubar was there trying to calm his brother before he did something stupid like killing their host.
“Sinbad.” Doubar exclaimed as he unclenched Sinbad’s hands from the magistrate, “Sinbad let him go, let him speak,” he added trying to reason with him.
The young captain barely heard his brother’s soothing tone as the big man tried to reason with him, but finally Doubar broke through the young man’s rage with logic. Sinbad shook his head as if to clear it and let go of the older man. He looked at his hands as if he had never seen them before realizing that he could have easily killed the magistrate with them. He started to shudder and raked both hands through his long hair taking calming breaths.
“I’m…sorry,” he said still a little shaky from the emotion that had gripped him.
“It’s all right captain,” Nolen said in a tired voice, “I should have told you the truth when I invited you to stay. I just wasn’t sure it was her until after the feast,” he added having aged fifty years before the sailor and his brother’s eyes.
“Who is Bryn to you,” Doubar questioned suspiciously since Sinbad was unable to speak at the moment.
“She’s my granddaughter,” Nolen said on a sigh.
“What!!,” Doubar and Sinbad exclaimed together not believing their ears.
“She’s my granddaughter,” the old man said again and then in anger at himself, “I told her about part of her past, but left out what little I know of her parents. I should have told her then maybe…maybe…On No!… By Allah she wouldn’t,” he exclaimed fearfully his eyes wide and then with a questioning look at the captain, “would she.”
“Would she what,” Sinbad asked tightly liking the situation less and less as the magistrate spoke.
“She has gone to find out about her past hasn’t she?” the old man questioned the lean sailor.
The young captain looked at the crumpled note in his hand and simply answered, “Yes,” his voice low and harsh.
“By Allah you must go after her, she doesn’t know…the townspeople,” Nolen said his voice breaking with worry and fear.
“Doesn’t know what,” Sinbad question grabbing the old man by the shoulder’s and giving him a small shake. Nolen didn’t answer right away just shook his head in denial. “Doesn’t know what,” Sinbad asked again harshly this time locking his intense blue eyed gaze on the magistrate.
Nolen finally met the captain’s eyes and said gravely, “They blame her for her mother’s death, If she goes back, they will kill her,” his eyes were serious and intense.
The young captain released the magistrate and stepped back his eyes wide. Doubar seeing his brother’s distress asked, “Where did she go, Nolen,” in a tone that demanded an answer form the old man.
“To Ira, she went to Ira,” the old man said his voice weary and old. What had he done Nolen questioned himself. What by all that was holy had he done?
It was a beautiful day to be at sea, with a strong wind and nothing but calm crystal clear waters as far as the eye could see. There was a mood of contentment in the air aboard the Midnight Run as the sailors went about their various chores. There was one passenger though who was not enjoying the marvelous day that was dawning around them. Bryn stood by the starboard rail making sure to keep out of the way of the working men. It was strange to be on a ship and not working, the luxuries of being a passenger she thought ruefully. The young witch sighed, she wasn’t sure if she made the right choice, but it was the only choice that she felt she had left to her. After Nolen had left Bryn had lain awake staring up at her ceiling thinking about all that Nolen had told her. She was from Ira, or so Nolen had said. The young witch finally had a place to look for her past and during the dead time, the time surrounding the witching hour, she decided to find go search for it. She still recalled how she had silently crept out of her second story window using the vines on the walls outside her room. Nolen’s old hound had bayed at the moon giving the young sorceress a moment of panic, but no one had been awakened. Bryn had slipped away into the night with the sole thought of finding a ship to take her to Ira, and here she was. Despite the emotional rollercoaster she had been on since Nolen had spoken to her she was still able to find humor in the appropriately named ship that now carried her to her supposed homeland. Bryn absentmindedly rubbed her rainbow bracelet for luck and thought of Sinbad. I’m sorry, she thought hoping that maybe a connection could be made with the captain, but I have to know. The young witch sighed again, soon she would know and she wondered if her life would ever be the same.
“Doubar I’m going after her…alone,” the young captain said in a tone that booked no arguments.
The young captain and his red-faced brother stood toe to toe facing each other down in the middle of the bustling port of Tangier. Many of the sailors loading cargo on the various ships only gave them cursory glances as they continued to load supplies and goods into the different holds.
“We will all go after he little brother,” Doubar countered not liking the unreasonable panic that had come over his brother. “She is our family too. She belongs on the Nomad and we will find her, but we are going to find her together,” he said in his over protective stubborn big brother voice.
Sinbad was about to start yelling in less than a candle mark, his brother’s frustrating logic not sitting well with him. The young captain’s insanity however found a moment of clarity pushing back the must find Bryn thought that had been the only thing to occupy his mind for that last few hours. He took two deep breaths calming his churning emotions and turned to his brother. “Doubar,” he started calmly, “I can’t just let the crew suffer from the blow our reputations would take if we don’t fulfil our contracts,” he said and then added. “You know that many of these men have families that relay on the wages they receive from us,” he replied his eyes filled with the truth of his words. Doubar just gave a gruff Hurmph, but he was listening to his brother. Sinbad sensing his victory in this argument said the one thing that he knew his brother would have no retort for. “Big brother you know that Bryn would not want one man’s child to suffer on her behalf,” he said knowing the sorceress better than he knew himself. “That is why I have to go alone.”
The big man hurmphed again not liking the situation in any way, shape, or form but having no choice but to yield his brother the victory. “I still don’t like it Sinbad, but I have a feeling it would take a bigger man then me to stop you,” he said his eyes laced with a mixture of frustration and humor. Sinbad didn’t reply right away he just quickly gave his brother a fierce hug and then pulled back to look him in the eye.
“Thank you big brother, and don’t worry we will both be back, safe and sound,” he said his eyes determined and filled with fervent purpose.
Doubar laughed at this and added, “Aye I know little brother, you and the lass are just to ornery to die,” he said with a grin. “Besides I’m sure that Allah wouldn’t want to put up with both you, might just give you both immortality to spare himself from your pig headed ways.”
Sinbad just laughed at his brother his blue eyes dancing, “You are probably right Doubar, you are probably right.”
They both laughed for a minute or two longer and then Doubar suddenly became serious, “Be safe little brother,” he said and pulled him into a bear hug.
Sinbad returned the hug and told him fiercely, “You too big brother.”
The two brothers released and Sinbad gave Doubar one last look silently communicating all the feeling that most men just can’t put into words. He then hefted his travel pack, turned and got lost in the crowd of sailors. Doubar being a man of action and not one to believe too much in fate uttered the first prayer he had said in years, “Bring them back to us Allah, both of them,” he whispered to the unseen supreme being. Then the new captain of the Nomad turned and headed toward his ship. He had a cargo to load and a ship to get out to sea.
Chapter Three
Sinbad threw his duffel down on the disreputable hammock that was hanging in his cramped quarters. He couldn’t believe that this ship called this a cabin, he could stand in the middle and touch opposite ends of the wall without extending his arms to their full length. Still Fin’s Prayer was the only ship that was heading to Ira, and he would have ridden in a leaky crate to follow Bryn. The young captain had learned from a dock rat, after gracing the kid’s palm with a couple of dinars, that a young woman matching Bryn’s description had paid for passage to Ira on the Midnight Run. Sinbad had then found the dock master’s assistant, a man named Roland, and asked him to find a ship on which to follow her. The small ferret faced man had, after Sinbad had parted with two more dinars, directed him to the ship he was on now, adding that the captain was a man that didn’t ask questions as long as a body had the money. The young captain had snorted at that, it was the most polite description of a smuggler he had ever heard. Still the captain had agreed to take him and beggars couldn’t be choosers. Sinbad gingerly lowered himself into the questionable hammock hoping the thing wouldn’t break on him. It was supriseingly strong so he let his full weight stretch the fabric taut, as he lay awake and starred at the ceiling. The young captain was still hurt by Bryn’s desertion last night, more than he was comfortable with. After Maeve, Sinbad had vowed not to let any woman get to close, not to let anyone in. That is why Bryn scared him so much, she had done what the port girls could only dream of doing, she had found a crack in his carefully constructed wall that housed the tender emotions he thought he didn’t need. He didn’t know if he loved her, wasn’t sure if he was capable of love, but he did know that he cared for her, and was going to find her no matter what it cost him.
The rolling hills of Emerald green stretched out beyond the port city of Galway as Bryn hugged herself against the cool crisp air. The temperature was noticeable lower here as opposed to the medeterian conditions of Morocco. The young magic holder drew the long sleeved yellow jacket tighter around her shoulders silently thanking the merchant who had given her such a good deal on the item of clothing. The chill she felt wasn’t all from the weather however; it was from the way this place made her feel. The moment Bryn had stepped off the boat the young witch couldn’t shake the idea that she knew this city. The feeling had grown stronger as she picked her way through the various stalls of venders hocking their wares, and had practically bowled her over when she had entered a tavern by the name of Grady’s. Still no one seemed to recognize her and it they did they weren’t saying so. Grady was the reason the young witch was now standing there starring at the road ahead of her trying to muster the courage to walk down it. The rotund tavern owner had said that only one man by the name of Donavan had ever come to Galway on a regular basis. Grady had said the man was a sailor that used to hire himself out on the merchant ships until he got injured on a voyage. After the accident the tavern owner had then told her that he then spent more of his time drowning his troubles in the bottom of an ale mug. Bryn had asked him if this man he had spoken of had lived around Galway and the owner said that he hadn’t. He said that he had heard Donavan say that he was from Athlone, which was about a two-week trek into the interior on the river Shannon. That was why Bryn now stood on the dirt road leading to Athlone seriously thinking about turning and running back to the Nomad. The young dark haired sorceress right on the heels of this thought chided herself, took a deep breath, and took her first step on the road to the past.
Sinbad cursed as yet another tavern owner told him same thing he had heard for the past week and half, every time he asked about Bryn. “Young girl, yellow dress, petite, dark hair and eyes, yeah I seen that lass in her, ‘twas quite a pretty lass, she was. I’m sorry laddy you just missed the wee girl, she went through town, oh about a day or so ago.” That was how it went day in, day out, he was starting to wondered if he was the brunt of some kind of cosmic joke. The young captain sighed and ran his hands through his hair, it was always like that, no matter how fast he traveled to reach a town she was always a day ahead of him. He cursed in frustration, it had been almost six weeks since he had bid farewell to Doubar on the docks of Tangier, and he was still no closer to catching up with Bryn. She must have been pushing herself from the break of dawn until well into the night to stay so far ahead of him. Sinbad sighed and trudged on down the road, at least he knew were she was headed thanks to the friendly sailors at the port of Galway. He cursed again and kicked a rock as he went to relieve his tension, it only added to his anger, he felt like entering into a screaming contest with the unseen forces of nature.
“Now laddy that sounded like it hurt,” an old man said. Sinbad whirled at the words, spinning on his heels and drew his sword. On a rock a few feet away from the sailor sat an old man, who had just appeared before the young captain out of thin air. He had to be the most ancient and frail creature Sinbad had ever seen, with a long white bread, scraggly hair, and beggars rags covering him from head to toe. “Only a woman could drive a man to do something so foolish,” the ancient creature continued starring off into space.
“Who are you, and where did you come from,” Sinbad said not lowering his guard.
“Now laddy you have nothing to fear from me,” the old man said waving his right hand in front of his sightless eyes. “As you can see I don’t pose much of a threat to anyone, not anymore,” he added wistfully.
“Your blind,” the young captain said stating the obvious.
“Oh you’re a smart you are,” the old man cackled sarcastically, “I see now why the wee folks figured you could use a hand,” he added a grin on his leather face.
“Wee folk?” Sinbad questioned no where near ready to trust this man.
“Aye are ya dense or something, the wee folk, the fey,” the old man explained like he was speaking to a particularly dense child. “You Captain Sinbad and the young lass Bryn are connected,” the old man added in a knowing tone of voice. “Yes connected, and if you don’t reach her quick then all hope will be lost…lost.”
Sinbad snapped and went up to the old man and placed the blade at his throat, “Where is she old man or by Allah I swear gut you like a pig,” the young captain growled in menace.
The blind man calmly replied, “If you kill me Lad then you ‘twill be too late to save the lass. I am here to help ya and if ya don’t be listening to me the girl will die,” he added his voice echoing with the convection of his words.
Sinbad still didn’t trust this mysterious stranger but he lowered his sword. After all the man knew his and Bryn’s names, which was odd in it self since he wasn’t know this far north.
“I’m listening,” Sinbad said coming to a decision to see what the stranger had to say.
The strange old man gave him another knowing grin. “Your master Dim Dim once told you that everything happens for a reason, and this is no different. The young lass is needed by her people but in order to help she must remember everything. That is where you come in my young Captain.”
“I don’t understand, why now,” Sinbad said puzzled, “and what must I do,” he added willing to do anything to help Bryn.
“The past is seldom an easy thing to face as you yourself know,” the old man replied gravely, “and the lass is in for some painful revelations. She is going to need your strength to help her complete her journey, whether she knows it or not.
“I have to reach her to help her and she is too far ahead of me,” Sinbad answered in despair. This stranger was adding to the feeling of dread that had seized the young captain, the further into the interior he walked. Bryn was heading into trouble and his time to save her was running out.
“Here,” the old blind man said and flipped a coin in the captain’s general direction. Sinbad caught it and looked up expectantly at the stranger, “What’s this,” he asked.
“That lad is your passage to Athlone. Go to the river’s edge, there you will find a maiden. Be warned sailor to guard your heart with what it holds most dear or she will become that which is most dear. If you are able to protect yourself in this way, then you will have passed the test. Show her the coin then and she will take you to Athlone in time to save the lass,” the strange blind man finished fervently.
“I will,” the captain replied and turned to go to the river’s edge. Sinbad had walked a few steps when the man’s voice came to him again, but this time it sounded far away. “Heed my warning sailor, or all is lost…lost.” The young captain turned his head to reply only to find the old man gone. Sinbad found himself all alone on the dusty road to Athlone wondering just what in the name of Allah he had gotten himself into.
Sinbad picked up yet another stone and sent it skipping across the river’s sparkling blue surface. He had been sitting by this river for almost an hour and he was becoming more and more anxious as the minutes passed. Bryn was getting further away from him the longer he waited. The young captain was starting to wonder if his instincts had failed him this time, maybe he shouldn’t have trusted the old blind man. The captain of the Nomad sighed and dug around in his pocket for the strange coin the old man had given him. He turned it over and over with his fingers examining each side for perhaps the hundredth time in the past hour. It was like no coin he had ever seen. It was made of pure gold, had the picture of a stunningly beautiful woman on the face side, and the picture of an island on the back. It had an almost mystical feel about it, like it was older than the beginning of time, but it shown with the glint only newly minted money possessed. Sinbad was so intent on the study of the coin that he didn’t see the enchanting young woman rise out of the water and float towards him.
“You seek someone sailor,” the woman said startling Sinbad out of his thoughts. Sinbad looked up and fell backwards off the rock he was sitting on in shock. A very beautiful and very naked woman stood before him, her strait golden hair flowing down her back.
“I…I yes, that is I’m looking for a friend,” he stuttered and trying not to stare at the enchanting creature before him.
“Ah a friend is it, does she have a name,” the woman asked in a purr. Sinbad felt her musical voice flow over him like a caress and all of a sudden he couldn’t quite remember what he was doing here.
“A name?” he questioned dumbly, “yes she has a name it’s…it’s…um…” Sinbad shook his head to clear it. What was his friend’s name? He shook his head again and wondered just what the hell was wrong with him; it was like a cloud had passed over his mind.
The strange woman smiled and took the opportunity to lower herself down on the ground next to were the captain had fallen. She then absentmindedly started to unbutton his shirt, slipping her free hand inside the fabric folds, and tangling her figures in the scattering of hair on his chest.
“She must not be that good of a friend if you can’t even remember her name,” the blond replied in a sultry voice. “Perhaps you would rather stay here with me and…talk for awhile.” Her seductive smile and the way her body drew closer to him telling the captain exactly what she meant by talk.
“I…that is…” he started to say but she silenced him with a kiss, her tongue seeking entry through his parted lips. Sinbad fond himself drowning in a wave of passion the likes of which he had never known and with each wave went another part of his memory. As he continued to kiss this enchanting creature he still couldn’t quite escape from the niggling at the back of his mind that telling him he had to find someone…someone important.
“This is your lucky day sailor,” she purred after breaking the kiss and started a line of kisses along his jaw. Sinbad closed his eyes in confusion as the woman started mouthing a path down toward his neck. “Lucky,” he thought, and on the heels of this thought was “for luck.” The woman was continuing to please him but Sinbad’s attention has sifted and all of a sudden he found himself back in a village. Something was wrong…he had to go stop it, and then she was there…her dark hair gleaming in the sun as she kissed him on the check for luck. The young captain then saw himself dragging her into his arms and kissing her properly. “Bryn,” he yelled his eyes snapping open as mind cleared. Sinbad pulled away just in time to prevent the beautiful woman from sinking the two very long fangs, which had appeared in her mouth, into his unprotected throat. The young captain jumped up stumbling a little as he fumbled for his sword hilt. After two unsuccessful attempts he managed to grasp it and pulled it free of it’s scabbard. Sinbad then brandished the sword expertly in front of him, completely on guard, and with his mind clear.
“All right who, or what, are you,” he said, his voice filled with menace and his blue eyes wary.
The strange woman snarled in reply her fangs gleaming in the setting sun. She then slowly rose to her feet and snapped her fingers causing a long formfitting white gown to appear on her body.
“I am Tiranya, queen of the Leanan-Sidhe (Lan-awn-shee) and you insolent mortal were to be my dinner,” the dangerous blond haired beauty said in eerie calm. She met the captain’s eyes with her own blue one’s. They were as cold as ice.
Sinbad’s eyes narrowed as he replied sardonically, “I’m sorry to ruin your plans.”
“So am I,” the sidhe replied, “you would have made a wonderful immortal,” she added with a lustful gleam in her eyes and a lick of her full lips.
The young captain looked on the sidhe with disgust, he then remember the coin the old blind man had given him and used his free hand to pull it from his side pocket. He held it up and asked, “Do you know this coin?”
The queen of the sidhe hissed and visibly recoiled. “Where did you get that,” she hissed in fear as she shielded her eyes from the coin's brilliance.
“From a friend,” he countered smoothly his hard-set face not changing expression.
“You lie mortal,” she hissed, “only those blessed by the fey can carry that coin,” she said keeping her distance from him now.
“Why do you fear it,” he asked wondering why this coin held such menace for the fey demon.
“Because I am an outcast form the realm of the fey, to touch that coin would mean death,” she said and then added, “it also neutralizes my powers so that I cannot get away.”
“Then you have to do as I say,” the young captain concluded in understanding.
“Yes,” she spat not happy with the idea, but resigned to her fate.
“Good, then I want you to get me to Athlone,” Sinbad said his mind filled with once again finding Bryn.
“Only if you promise to release me when we get there,” the sidhe bargained not wanting this mortal to know just how much control he had over her.
“Agreed,” Sinbad said having no desire to make this creature his slave. At her disbelieving look he added solemnly, “You have my word.” The sidhe looked deep into the sailor eyes and apparently found the sincerity she was looking for as she replied, “Then we are off to Athlone.” Tiranya then turned toward the river and using the only power the coin allowed her to summon a boat from the depths of the river. Her and the captain then boarded, a swift unnatural wind filling the sails, carrying them to Athlone and Bryn.
Bryn stood on a the top of a rolling green hill overlooking the village of Athlone, frozen in place by her inner demons as the sun sunk lower it the distant horizon. Bryn had found that the closer she had gotten to Athlone the more open her mind had become to her past. She still didn’t remember anything tangible, mostly emotions and flashes. The young witch was having mixed feelings about her slowly opening subconscious because of the nature of some of the memories. The past few nights had brought both happiness and pain as some of her past bloomed before her. The one night she would never forget though was the day she saw her mother. It still brought tears of joy to her eyes as she remembered the kindly woman with dark hair and blue eyes. She had been about five years old in the memory. Her mother was picking flowers in the field and Bryn had remembered that she had been out amongst the flowers looking for the faerie folk that her mother said lived in that particular field. She had remembered her mother’s mockly indignant face when she had come back to her covered in dirt, carrying a hand full of clovers. The memory made her chuckle a little as she remembered the excuse she had given. She had been looking for a four-leaf clover to bring her luck in her search for the little people. Bryn’s smile faded as she remembered the other part of the memory. This was were her mind still shut her out, the good memories had been coming more often, but the bad…she could only know of the bad through remembered feelings. They were usual feelings of fear, pain…and guilt. The guilt was the one that troubled her the most for it made her wonder what she had done so wrong to feel guilty about. Bryn shook herself out of her thoughts, took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face. She was about to walk into the village that had been her childhood home hoping that Sinbad and the crew had been right about her…hoping she wasn’t evil.
From the shadows of the near bye woods a man dressed in green watched the young dark haired sorceress head toward her destiny. He smiled in delight and mischief as he thought of the reward Finvarra would give for the little element girl. Robin Goodfellow smiled again in a child’s delight as he turned on cloven hoofs to disappear back into the woods. All in good time little element girl, all in good time, he thought and broke into a lively tune on his panpipe.
Bryn walked through the streets of the village of Athlone taking in all that was to be seen. She knew this place she thought happily. It was odd, every which way she turned a memory would flash. Her and her mother buying food and supplies form the vendors, her and her mother talking to different people on the street just passing the day away. What was strange though was that it was always her and her mother. She had yet to remember the man who was her father, the one that Nolen spoke of in such loathing. The young witch was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t watch were she was going, and ran right into a very ample middle age woman, knocking them both to the ground. The tall plump woman laughed very good naturedlly as Bryn apologized profusely.
“Oh I so sorry, I should have been watching were I was going,” Bryn apologized getting up and offer the woman her hand.
“‘Tis all right lass,” the older woman said taking Bryn’s hand and letting her help her. The woman still hadn’t looked at Bryn. “I should been minding my own way I…” the woman trailed off and her eyes widened as she looked at Bryn. A large grin had been on the young witch’s face until she noticed this woman’s expression. Her green eyes were wide and her red hair was flying away form the knot she had kept it in. “By the Gods,” she exclaimed tears of joy started to flow down her face. “Bryn,” she choked out through her thick voice, “Is…is that you little one.”
Bryn in her excitement grabbed the woman by her shoulders a little tightly and exclaimed excitedly, “You…you know me?”
The woman gripped Bryn’s shoulder’s in the same way, “Of…Of course little one,” she said in confusion. “It is me Lonnie, I was your mother’s best friend, you used to call me aunt Lonnie, practically lived at my house you did. Don’t you remember me?” she asked her confusion peeking through her Gaelic Brogue.
Bryn’s face took on a pained expression, “I’m sorry but no, I…I don’t remember anyone,” she confessed not wanting to hurt this woman who seemed to be genuinely fond of her.
“Lass what happen to you then, it’s been years…years,” Lonnie asked stunned and placing her hands on the young woman’s face just to make sure she was indeed real.
“I told you I don’t know Lonnie,” Bryn said hesitantly trying the name out on her lips. “There was a storm, I know that now, and then I awoke on an island wiped of my memory. For a long time now I have had only known my name, until…”
Lonnie thoroughly caught up in the young witch’s story prompted, “until what.”
“Until Tangier, until I met my grandfather, oh Lonnie I want so desperately to remember everything, can you help me,” Bryn pleaded with the older woman.
Lonnie’s eyes widened as she digested this information and her face took on a sorrowful expression. “Then you don’t remember…and he didn’t tell…” she said pained, her voice trailing before she could finish. “Damn Nolen and his unthinking ways,” Lonnie cursed. The plump woman then grasped the young witch’s arm staring to pull her off the street. Bryn watched in confusion as the Lonnie cast a furtive glance around like she was afraid of being seen.
“Come child,” she said urgently, “We have to get you off the street before someone else recognizes you.” Lonnie added pulling Bryn toward a nearby alley. Lonnie wasn’t fast enough though, and as she turned her head she saw a large group of angry looking people heading their way. The mob was armed with stones and clubs of various sizes. Lonnie put herself between the mob and Bryn without a second thought and yelled, “Run Child Run,”
Bryn didn’t move couldn’t as the mob approached her, all she could think was that Scratch had been telling the truth.
Chapter Four
Sinbad had kept his end of the bargain and set the sidhe free when they reached the edge of Athlone. The minute he disembarked off the boat Trianya vanished, smiling her thanks. She had also vowed that him, and his children would from this day fourth be immune to the magic of her clan. He thanked her quickly with a smile thinking that you never know when that will come in handy. The young captain then focused his attention on the town below and headed toward it at a dead run hoping he was in time.
The crowd drew closer and Bryn, although thankful that Lonnie wanted to protect her, stepped in front of the woman facing down the mob. The young witch wasn’t a coward and she wasn’t about to start behaving like one, even in the face of this…whatever this was. Bryn stood her ground as the group drew closer, tense and ready for whatever they happened to throw at her. The crowd stopped in a few feet in front of her anger and hatred flowing from them in waves causing the empath to reel from the onslaught to her senses. The average built man with gray hair seemed to be their leader. He was wearing the robes of a druid priest as he stepped forward to address her.
“Demon you are not welcome here,” the man said his venom flowing over Bryn in waves.
Bryn gasped in pain, the man’s intense hatred for her hitting her like a physical blow. The young witch clucked her stomach in an attempt to lessen the agony. She took two or three calming breaths, mentally separating her self from the mob. She then attempted what was probably the most idiotic thing she had ever done; she tried to reason with them. She was about to speak, try to appeal to the undecided elements, when Lonnie spoke instead.
“Xavier you have no right to be calling anyone demon, you hypocritical bastard,” Lonnie spat her intense hatred of the man lacing her words.
“Silence woman,” the priest roared, “It figure’s that you would protect this witch. She killed her own mother for gods sake, Gods rest her pure soul,” he concluded his voice sounding sincere.
“You are the demon Xavier, the lass is one of the purest souls to walk the face of this world,” Lonnie shot back not about to be silenced. “And you should all be ashamed of your selves,” the plump woman added addressing the crowd. As Lonnie spoke a few of the townspeople started to look a little uncomfortable, but for the most part the plump woman’s words had fallen on deaf ears. Xavier’s proclamation had already had its desired affect, the priest’s band of followers becoming even more agitated. Cries of witch, demon, and other cruder titles were flung at the unsuspecting empath until Xavier waved his hand for silence. A cruel smile curved the priest lips; he was obviously enjoying being the ringleader of this little circus.
Bryn, in the mean time, was numb from the shock of Xavier’s revelation. The young witch’s beautiful dark eyes had a hollow, dull look to them. She was no longer listening to the cries of the crowd because Xavier’s words had been the catalyst; the final stimulant needed to open the floodgates on her buried past. Suddenly Bryn grasped her head in pain, it had begun, her mind had opened and the memories were crashing down on top of her. Bryn felt her entire being recoil from the intense pain and loss. She vaguely felt Lonnie there supporting her as she tried to weather the storm. Bryn’s mind was reacting violently, trying in vain to repress a lifetime of painful memories. It was because of the young empath’s preoccupation with her own emotional turmoil that she failed to pick up on the feeling of a wrongness she would have normal picked up from the priest.
“Lonnie is this true,” she asked the one woman who she felt she could trust at the moment. Here voice was that of a child seeking comfort for a grievous wrong beyond her control. “No little one,” she replied softly, “you ‘twere barely seven, there was no way you could have known…” Lonnie said unable to finish.
Bryn’s eyes widened, “known what,” she choked afraid to hear the answer.
Lonnie locked eyes with Bryn and started to say, “That…” but Xavier cut her off.
“No Lonnie,” he said savagely knowing that what the woman would say would sway the crowd from it’s purpose. “No more of your lies, she is a demon, touched by the sidhe (shee) and this time she must not live,” he screamed maniacally. Bryn never saw the first rock coming as it hit her across her right cheek splitting it open. She went down on her knees and when she looked up her eyes were glowing yellow. Lonnie gasped when she saw the young witch’s eyes and started shaking her head in a mouthing no. Bryn felt her heart fall as the fear flowed into her from the plump woman. Just then another rock went flying as the crowd recovered from it’s own shock. The rock was headed right for Lonnie's head.
Sinbad had arrived just in time to see the first rock hit Bryn, and he ran forward without thinking, pushing his way through the crowd desperately trying to reach her. He doubled his efforts when he saw Bryn rise and jumped in front of the woman who seemed to be the only person, besides himself; here that didn’t want her blood. Sinbad watched as the rock flew to the right, away from the crowd and the woman, as Bryn used her magic to deflect it. She wasn’t going to hurt the townspeople even if they were trying to kill her, and Sinbad cringed as a few rocks made it throw her defenses striking her. He was tired of being nice as he viciously elbowed a town’s man in the face and started to fight his way to the front of the mob.
Bryn was getting tired. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to keep up this defense indefinitely. She could already feel the drain on her powers as more and more rocks broke through striking her. Just when she thought that she couldn’t take anymore the pelting stopped. Through her haze of pain and fatigue she thought she heard a familiar voice and thought questioningly “Sinbad?” right before she collapsed.
Sinbad pressed the tip of his sword tighter against the sniveling little priests throat wanting nothing more to slice it open and pull out the small minded little man’s tongue. He had broke through the crowd and heard the priest fanatically encouraging the townspeople to spill Bryn’s blood. Now all eyes were on the young captain as they waited to see what he would do to the priest.
“By Allah just what are you doing,” Sinbad said in menace. “I should kill you were you stand,” he added on a growl.
“She is a demon young foreigner, you have no idea what you are seeing here today, else you would not defend this loathsome creature,” the priest said confident in his own abilities to twist Sinbad to his cause. What the petty little man didn’t know was Bryn’s connection to the young captain. Sinbad smiled a predatory smile and decided to tell him.
“I’m afraid that I will be forced to disagree with you on that,” Sinbad said to the priest holding up his wrist and showing the man his rainbow bracelet. He then nodded to Bryn’s. The priest’s eyes widened in real fear now as he noticed the matching bracelet Bryn had on her arm. “As you can see me and the young lady have similar tastes in jewelry,” the young captain added his smile all teeth.
“Sinbad,” the young captain heard Bryn say weakly. He turned his head slightly keeping his eye on Xavier and checking Bryn out at the same time. The empath awoke with her head in Lonnie’s lap, the plump woman gently brushing back the younger woman’s hair back from her bleeding face.
“Yes Bryn it is me, can you walk,” he asked softly still watching the priest. Pain hit him like a physical blow when he noticed how battered Bryn was from her latest encounter.
“Y-Yes,” Bryn answered unsteadily as she tried to stand. Lonnie was there, supporting her, and she put her arm around the woman’s shoulder, gratefully, and treated her to a wan smile.
“Good because we are leaving,” he said loudly his voice carrying out to the crowd. “If anyone has a problem with that then this man’s blood will be on your heads,” he added harshly dragging Xavier in front of him and placing the blade firmly at the priest’s throat. The towns’ people back off, some of the men glaring at the captain, but keeping their distance. Lonnie helped Bryn who was slowly getting her strength back as they walked. Sinbad kept the priest in front of him like a shield until they reached the edge of the village. The captain then shouted out his final warning to the villagers. “Follow us and this man will die.” No one followed and Sinbad, Bryn, Lonnie, and their prisoner made it into the nearby forest unmolested.
Three hours later Sinbad was still viscously dragging the priest along, knowing that he had to keep the nastily little man with them until they were far enough away. He was seething inwardly as Xavier took yet another shot at Bryn with his venomous words. What really made the captain cringe though was Bryn’s response, or actually lack of response, to the verbal assault the priest was throwing at her. Ever since they had left the village the young witch had been nothing but a living, breathing, emotionless statue. The captain of the Nomad had to admit that Bryn’s current state of mind scared him more then all the sea monsters and demons he had ever faced in his young life. Sinbad cringed again as the little bigot spouted yet another fanatically religious verse at Bryn, denouncing her. The young captain was growing impatient with the priest’s verbally abused of the young witch.
“You are a demon, and the gods will deliver you into the hands of the righteous,” Xavier spat at Bryn who was ignoring him, still oblivious. Her and Lonnie were walking ahead of Sinbad and the priest, Lonnie having placed a supportive arm around Bryn’s waist. The young witch had barely acknowledged the gesture, as she was so lost in her own mind. The older woman had sent Sinbad quite a few looks that showed how concerned she was for the young lass, concern that was mirrored in the captain’s eyes
“You hear me witch,” the priest tried again the madness that he normal kept under control shining through his fevered eyes. That was the last draw for the captain as he gave an angry growl from low in his throat.
“I think that is enough talking for one day,” Sinbad said in a companionable tone his grin nasty. “Lonnie would you mind helping the priest conserve his voice,” he asked the middle aged woman his grin becoming larger. Lonnie who had stopped and turned to face the captain at the sound of her name had been gazing at him in puzzlement. That is until he made his last comment. The older woman’s face took on a grin of her own as she pulled a scarf from around her neck. “Aye I believe the priest here has done entirely too much talking, be a shame if he were to loss his voice because of it,” Lonnie said with a calculating look at Xavier. The older woman gently disentangled herself form Bryn who still hadn’t shown any real signs of life. She then purposefully strode toward the loathsome little man and proceeded to gag him tightly. After the deed was done Sinbad and Lonnie exchanged amused looks that only co-conspirators can achieve, studiously ignoring the indigent protests of the priest. Then both turned their gaze to the young witch, hoping to share their mirth with her, only to find her sunk to the ground on her knees starring off into the horizon. Sinbad’s heart twisted in his chest at the sight and he wondered for the hundredth time today if he had been too late to save her after all.
Night had fallen on the Emerald Isle, and Sinbad could be seen sitting on a log in the middle of a dark forest starring into the fire, like it held the all the answers the universe had to offer. The young captain was the only one awake, Lonnie and Bryn both having dropped off a candlemark or so ago. The priest also had fallen asleep, dozing fitful in the sitting position that Sinbad had tied him in. The loathsome little man was tied tightly to a tree still bound and gagged. Sinbad was worried, It had been three days since they had fled the village and Bryn had yet to utter a single word. Sinbad hated the dull look in her eyes, hated the feeling of helplessness that had overtaken him. She was battling her inner demons something the young captain knew was not something anyone could save you from. Still as he watched her sleep he was frustrated that he couldn’t help her, couldn’t protect her. By Allah what good would it do to have saved her life only to have her soul destroyed in the process, and that is what had raw primal fear coursing through the captain. Sinbad continued to stare into the fire searching for answers and absolution. He was too late he thought, she was gone from him, he knew it every time he had looked into her eyes. The brown depths that had always held such humor, kindnes
Legal Disclaimer: The characters and back story for AoS do not belong to me, etc, etc. They belong to Ed Naha and whosoever holds the copyright to said story. Please don’t sue because I have nothing of any value except my vast Star Wars collection and If you want to take that from me you had better bring a very large army or a guy named Roco, Which ever. Also any characters that you see here that did not appear on AoS are mine so please don’t use them without my permission. Thanks
Personal Disclaimer: For anyone who actually cares this is a Bryn and Sinbad story, actually it is mostly a Bryn story. There is a Bryn and Sinbad romantic theme present and if this offends oh well. I will say that I am not solely a Bryn/Sinbad shipper. I love Maeve I thought she was a great character and I could have easily written a story starring her. The thing was that I didn’t feel compelled to write that story. So the reason I felt compelled to write this story you asked? Either that or you just wish I would shut up and get on with it already. Anyway the reason is because Bryn is a gold mine of undiscovered mystery and the chance to make her into anything I chose was just too much of a temptation for me to pass up. I do appreciate feedback and respect constructive criticism. This does not include phrases like “Bryn Sucks, Maeve Rules,” to this juvenile attempt to rile me you will receive a TACW (Turbo Automatic Cyber Wedgie) delivered via the net be Queen Ephiney and her Amazons.
Dedication: This story is dedicated to my best friend, the Jane to my Daria and my partner in crime Barbi Cali. I hope that your own journey to find yourself succeeds and remember that we will always be family, bound by friendship if not blood.
Past Imperfect
By Boo
The night of the new moon was bathed in utter darkness as a single ship could be seen floating in the misted of the calm waters of the ocean. The waves, really no more than ripples, gently lapping at the ship’s hull setting it to rocking slightly. The lone sailing vessel was appropriately named the Nomad for the wandering adventurous spirit of her captain. The dark skinned moor manned the helm and seemed to blend into the night, a solitary figure with only the whites of his eyes visible. The set of his shoulders and the way a carried himself bespoke of pride, strength…courage. The lone figure surveyed the calm seas thanking Allah that it was turning in to a quiet night for once. The sea however keeps many secrets with in her depths and the calm was deceptive as off in the distance the rumble of the thunder could be heard. The storm brewing above however was nothing compared to the storm brewing below. For below the secrets of a lifetime were churning, and when the past catches up to us our lives are seldom if ever the same.
Bryn tossed and turned on her bed thoroughly caught in the throws of a nightmare. The young witch mumbled in her sleep her brow heavy with sweat. Dermott cawed loudly and repeatedly trying to awaken his Mistress, but Bryn just continued to become more restless and started to thrash about madly. “Father No!” she yelled tangling in her sheets, her arms and legs flaying about. The young sorceress bolted awake hitting her head on one of the ships cross beams in the process. One of her free hands automatically went to her injured head and gently explored the bump that was rising under the flesh of her forehead. The nightmare and the pain had caused her to become a little disoriented, so she failed to acknowledge the rather frantic pounding at her cabin door. Just when the young magic holder found her voice and was about to answer, the door frame splintered and broke as Doubar heaved his impressive bulk against her door. The poor door never had a chance against the mighty mountain of a man.
Sinbad rushed in half-afraid of what he might find in Bryn’s room. In all his years at sea the young captain had never heard a scream to rival the one Bryn had just released. He rushed in after his brother expecting to find a demon devouring his friend, instead he encountered a thoroughly pissed off and embarrassed looking witch, in a sheer nightgown. Bryn’s eyes were glowing yellow with anger, but that is not what the young Captain noticed first. No, the first thing he noticed was how he could make out the outline of her body through that sheer nightgown. He mentally gave himself an order to stop staring and that is the moment he noticed her eyes. She did not look happy and the anger was a tangible thing radiating off her waves. Sinbad mentally kicked himself again when he was struck with the unbidden thought that she had never looked as incredible sexy as she did right now.
“Sinbad just what in the Hell did you think you were doing,” Bryn snapped more out of embarrassment then real anger.
“I heard you scream,” the Captain defended still a little mentally off balanced, “That usually signifies that someone is in trouble,” he said tightly.
“So you had Doubar break down my door,” Bryn said incredulously, wanting to happily throttle him for his caveman behavior. Sinbad looked to his brother for support but Doubar wisely remained silent, becoming very interested in the ocean view outside Bryn’s window. Sinbad sighed, he knew that he had overreacted, but the young Captain had been overly protective of all of the crew since their run in with scratch. He also realized that he had been even more protective of Bryn and had known that a confrontation like this had been coming between him and her. He would have bet the Nomad though that she wouldn’t have been half dressed when it happened. He then of course would be out of a ship, and he allowed himself a small smile at the irony of it all. The young Captain began to wonder if he was cursed. What was it with him and woman that didn’t need his protection? Sinbad allowed himself another small smile noticing that Bryn’s eyes blazed brighter as she noticed causing him to bit back his grin. He knew that he needed to make amends before she zapped him in the backside or another more sensitive part of his anatomy.
“Bryn I’m sorry, I just heard you scream and believed you to be in trouble,” Sinbad said sincerely his blue eyes warm and caring.
Bryn had been seriously thinking about scorching him in the backside after watching him bite back not one but two of his infamous grins, but his apology had it’s desired effect and the light of anger died in her eyes. Now it was Bryn’s turn to sigh as she realized that she had overreacted as well. It was just that she was feeling more than just a little bit exposed standing in front of the Captain in only her nightdress. She sighed heavily in confusion, with the remnants of her nightmare still floating in her mind she just wasn’t able to deal with her Sinbad’s worry and concern right now, as wonderful as he can be about things.
“It’s all right Sinbad no harm done, I was just having a nightmare,” she confessed the sense of fear she had felt lingering in her mind, “and Doubar next time just knock,” she added with a grin trying to shake herself back into reality.
Doubar blushed and replied embarrassed, “Aye little one, and I will come fix your door in the mourning,” he said turning to leave. As Doubar was on his way out Sinbad clapped his brother on the back and grinned at him. The big man’s hazel eyes met his brother’s and he let at a hearty laugh that could be heard throughout the Nomad. With his Brother gone Sinbad’s ocean blue eyes turned serious as he faced the dark eyed sorceress.
“Do you want to talk about it,” Sinbad said gently his gaze soft and intense.
“No,” Bryn answered softening her reply with a smile, “I’m afraid there isn’t much to tell anyway, the dream has already faded,” she added her voice thick with frustration.
“It will come Bryn just give it time,” the captain replied softly understanding her frustration.
She smiled again ruefully and he returned her smile before leaving her to get some sleep. He was just outside of the door when he heard her whisper to the ocean, “Yes. But will I like what I find.”
It had been a week since the incident with Bryn and her nightmare. Everything had appeared to go back to normal for a couple of days, but everyone in the crew had noticed the changes in Bryn. She seldom would smile and flatly refused to talk about anything beyond the weather or the mundane happening of the crew. What was giving the crew a collective migraine was the more withdrawn and sullen Bryn became, the more irrational and tyrannical their captain behaved. It had started four sunrises ago and become progressively worse. The young captain Sinbad was unbearable, asking the crew to do ridiculously pointless things around the ship all the while working himself into exhaustion. If things were not done to the captain satisfaction the crew found themselves doing them over and over again. Anybody else’s men would have already mutinied, but lucky for Sinbad he had a leveled headed big brother to keep the peace. Doubar found himself intervening more and more in petty squabbles Sinbad started with the members of his crew. Already this mourning the young Captain had told Firouz to stop with his damn tinkering and get up on deck, maybe do something useful for change. The crestfallen expression on the young inventor’s face had made even Doubar feel for the physician. With Rongar he had told the moor to learn how to tie a decent knot or find a new line of work. The big man could tell that the only thing keeping his little brother from sporting a brand new dirk in his chest was the moor’s deep friendship with the captain and his princely manners. The big man himself had also been on the receiving end of Sinbad’s fowl mood and the only thing keeping him from taking his little brother over his knee was the upcoming port of Tangier. It was time for their annual festival of the new moon, which was known far and wide as one of the greatest festivals in all of Morocco. Doubar just hoped that the festival would shake Sinbad and Bryn out of their dark moods. Just then the big man heard the beginnings of a fight and he knew that the port would not arrive in time.
“Dammit Abdul I told you to check the rigging,” Sinbad growled at a wiry sailor.
“Captain I check the rigging less than a candle mark ago and it is tied tighter then the bug you got up your arse,” Abdul growled right back his small dark eyes snapping. The middle-aged sailor had been with the crew of the Nomad for a long time and Captain or no, Sinbad was trying his patience with his juvenile behavior. Though smaller then the young captain the wiry little bald man made up for his lack of size through cunning. If the captain wanted to start a fight he was going to be in for a surprise.
Sinbad just looked at the old sailor in menace all his anger and frustration boiling inside of him. He swung his fist at him only to have it caught in mid swing. The captain then turned the full force of his anger on the interloper only to come face to face with his brother Doubar. The deep scowl on his older brother’s face only fueled his anger and he turned on the man who had been his father figure for many years.
“Doubar how dare you make me look like a jack ass in front of my crew,” Sinbad hissed a bit loudly. All the working hands near the rear of the ship stopped to see what would happen between the two brothers, and Abdul just settled back against the railing with a grin on his leathery face. Looks like he wasn’t going to have to teach the young pup a lesson after all. The middle-aged sailor just hoped that Doubar used a really hard piece of wood to paddle his little brother’s arse. Abdul’s grin became noticeable bigger as in answer to Sinbad’s question Doubar narrowed his eyes and used his enormous strength to heft his younger brother off his feet, using the back collar of the young man’s shirt for leverage. He then unceremoniously dragged the protesting captain below. As Doubar dragged his brother stumblingly along beside him many hoots and hollers of encouragement arose from the crew around them. When they were finally below the big man opened the door to their shared cabin, still holding his protesting brother, and threw the young captain through the open door. The way Doubar was feeling he would rather have had the door closed. Allah knew that Sinbad’s head was hard enough to break it down. The only thing that gave the big man pause in that regard was his desire not to have to fix anymore doors this week. Sinbad stumbled into the room desperately trying to regain his balance before he crashed into the unforgiving wall. Needless to say it was in vain. The young Captain Sinbad hit the wall with a resounding thud, and then fell to the floor landing on his backside.
“Just what in the blue blazes of hell is wrong with you,” Doubar roared at his brother, his considerable patience having finally snapped.
Sinbad equal angry and dying to pick a fight replied, “It is none of your damn business, you’re not my keeper.”
“Then just what the hell am I,” the big man said tightly his tone of voice and tightly clenched fists tell the young captain just how angry his older brother was. Like an idiot however Sinbad decided that he didn’t care.
“You’re an overgrown ox that needs to mind his own business,” Sinbad shot back digging his own grave.
“Well when you start acting like the responsible captain I know you are instead of a spoiled two year old I just might mind my own business,” Doubar yelled his temper flaring even more.
“This is my ship,” Sinbad said tightly, “and I will run it any damn way I see fit,” he added his anger not abating.
“That is what I thought you would say little brother,” Doubar said, his eyes taking on a calculating look. “So instead of kicking your arse from here to Basra, like I know you deserve, I’m gonna lock you down here until you get your head on strait,” Doubar said a little calmer but the fire in his eyes just daring his brother to try and stop him.
“That is mutiny,” Sinbad said in astonishment his eyes wide.
“No this is for your own good and my sanity,” Doubar hollered, “The ship will do fine in my hands until we get to Tangier,” and with that Doubar left and locked his brother in from the outside. He would have to thank Firouz later for that locking mechanism he had devised.
Sinbad paced his cabin like a caged panther growling at Dermott who just happened to land on his window seal. The young Caption had already tried the door just to see if his brother was bluffing…he wasn’t. Sinbad sighed, he knew that he was being unreasonable, but dammit she wouldn’t talk to him. Hell she would barely even look at him. She just sat there day after day mending the nets and braiding rope. The young captain sighed in frustration raking a hand through his shoulder length hair. He wasn’t sure why all this was getting to him so bad and he wasn’t sure at all of he wanted to know why all of this was getting to him so bad. Bryn had always been a mystery to him so what was one more...right? The problem was that another mystery he could handle, but this…this smacked of a secret. She had never kept secrets from him, and that was what had him tense and on edge. Then there was that vision of her in her nightgown that had plague his sleep and really given the young captain pause. If the handsome young captain had ever lacked anything in his life, it had never been female companionship, and it was just Bryn he kept reminding himself. Sure she was beautiful, but she was also a friend and a crewmember. The problem was that the old arguments weren’t reducing the itch in his blood that had been growing for the past few months, between that and his recent nightmares he was sleeping very little. He paused in the middle of his cabin and raked both hands through his long mane. Doubar was right, he thought ruefully, he needed to get himself under control.
Bryn had watched her eyes as big as saucers, as Doubar dragged a belligerent Sinbad below deck. They failed to diminish as she watched an anger Doubar return alone a few minutes later. Bryn met the big man’s gaze and immediately regretted it. The look in his eyes would have rivaled a Jinn on a rampage. The young witch made a mental note of the anger quickly averted her gaze, and turning her attention back to the rope she was braiding. The young witch’s eyes filled with sadness as she gave an inward sigh. She knew that she was the reason that Sinbad had been in such a horrid mood lately, but her emotions were just too raw right now for her to confide in him…in anyone. It had all started with that dream she couldn’t remember. Bryn instinctively knew that it was a piece of her long forgotten past, the fragments in her subconscious were taunting her, staying just on the edges of her mind. The young witch closed her eyes and for the hundredth time that week cleared her head, trying to reach for the memories. A few moments later her eyes snapped open and she sighed in frustration, her latest attempt to remember causing her to develop a splitting headache. The young witch wanted to howl at the moon to relieve her of the tension that had been building inside of her since that dream. Bryn smiled ruefully at that thought, if she were honest with herself she would have to say the tension that had building since Sinbad washed up on the same beach as she did. Her feelings about the young captain were disturbing at best, confusing at most. She had gone from attraction, respect, and friendship, to something deeper, something she had no name for and that scared her more then her suspicions about her past. As the week had passed her tremulous thoughts had haunted her night and day forcing the young magic holder to come to a decision. Bryn just couldn’t shake the gut wrenching feeling that there was evil inside of her, buried deep in a place were even her own mind refused her entry. She also knew now that her ignorance about who she was could conceivable put the crew in danger, thanks to Scratch and his cryptic comments on her pedigree. Bryn’s eyes shown with determination as she forcefully promised herself that she would not let that happen. She would die first before endangering any of her friends. She then sighed a long and heartfelt sigh. The young witch knew it was time, time for her to face the demons of her past, and find out once and for all where she came from.
The port of Tangier was like a sweet balm to the open wound that had been the crew of the Nomad’s morale. The bustling, busy Port City was transforming before their very eyes as colorful streamers were being hung for the festival that night. Tangier was the second largest city in Morocco, rivaled only by the capital Marrakech, and the festivals here were always lavish. Even the captain was unable to hold on to his sour mood of the past week as the feeling of revelry in the air promised to release the stress he had been feeling so heavily. Sinbad had apologized to the crew for his atrocious and unruly behavior and in atonement had given them an extra day of shore leave. Most of the crew had already forgiven their Captain and gladly went to the local tavern in preparation for the night’s festivities. With most of the crew gone the Nomad was especially quiet, and Bryn stood on the deck softly stroking Dermott’s feathers. She was half way watching the townspeople hang the colorful cloth streamers for the festival but mostly she was thinking. Lost in her thoughts she didn’t hear Sinbad come up behind her until he asked.
“A Dinar for them,”
Bryn started a little, jumping slightly as his voice washed over her. “For what,” she asked puzzled, and a little annoyed for his intrusion.
“For your thoughts,” the Captain replied adding a roguish grin.
“You used to be able to get them for free,” she stated a grin tugging at her lips. It was hard for Bryn to hang on to her annoyance in the wake of that grin. “Your charm must be getting rusty,” Bryn added teasing.
The Captain’s face suddenly became serious as he replied, “Yes I did.”
Bryn cast her Captain a pained expression, “I’m sorry Sinbad I know I have been avoiding you, I just…that is,” she added weakly trailing off regret in her dark eyes
“This is about that dream you had,” Sinbad replied, it was a statement not a question.
“Partly,” Bryn said and then took a fortifying breath to continue. “Sinbad I know that you, Doubar, Rongar, and Firouz have accepted me into this crew…this family no questions asked…” she said trailing off.
“But,” the Captain prompted not really sure if he wanted to hear what she had to say. The feeling of dread that had been building all week was hammering his senses now.
“But I have decided to leave when we reach the next port,” she said not able to look at him.
“Bryn you can’t,” Sinbad practical shouted reacting to this bomb with a mixture of shock and fear, with a little bit of desperation thrown in for good measure.
The young witch felt her hackles rise, “Last time I checked Captain I was a grown woman and perfectly capable of making my own decisions,” she replied tightly. This was good she thought, anger she could handle, the alternative emotion she knew would never give her the strength to leave.
Sinbad heard the anger in her voice and was about to cover his own desperation with some of his own. Then he paused and found himself drawn in to her eyes. It was there in those swirling brown depths that he saw the conflict going on inside of her, and his anger melted away like the last snows of winter. His blue eyes filled with compassion and he answered her the only way he knew how.
“Bryn I understand…I do,” he said sincerely, “but please think about what you are saying and reconsider.” Bryn opened her mouth as if to protest, but Sinbad anticipated as much and gently placed his fingertips on her soft lips staying them. “If you still feel the need to leave I won’t stand in your way,” he promised taking a fortifying breath to steady his emotions. Bryn smiled at him and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek as she turned to leave. “Thank you Captain,” she said softly and walked down the gangplank to attend the festival.
“My Pleasure,” Sinbad mumbled to the night as he watched her leave.
It was a cloudless night and the stars could be seen clearly littered across the night sky like polished, sparkling diamonds. The festival of the new moon was in full swing as the torches lighting the street produced swirling, dancing shadows throughout the town. The ale and wine flowed freely as the people made marry, celebrating yet another year of Abu al-Mumin’s reign in Morocco. There were four or five ships docked in the harbor of Tangier and many a wide-eyed child listened to the old sea dogs tell of their high seas adventures. Bryn found herself laughing at a particularly unbelievable tale told by a wizened old man that had to be a hundred if he was a day. The old man had then sent the young woman a scowl, and in amends she bought him a drink. The old dog’s ire didn’t stand a chance against the free alcohol coupled with one of Bryn’s smiles. He gave the young sorceress a wicked grin, the kind that only an old man can accomplish, and went back to his tales of the sea. Bryn gave a happy sigh and relaxed for the first time in over a month. The young sorceress had spent most of the day around town stopping here and there, helping the town’s women decorate for the festival. She even had time to indulge in a hot bath, soaking in the large tub until her toe’s pruned and the water chilled. The three dinars she had parted with for that particular luxury were well worth it in her opinion. Now she was enjoying the party, strolling along the streets, and dodging around various happy smiling people. She hadn’t seen Sinbad since she had left the ship, and the small voice in her head berated her for seeking him out now. She ignored it and caste her eyes along the square. She had to laugh when she had finally found him. Poor Sinbad was trying to graciously disentangle himself from a small horde of women that had adopted him. Bryn berated herself for the small twinge of jealousy that went through her heart when one of the more determined maiden’s vied for his attention. Sinbad wasn’t hers to be jealous of she reminded herself firmly. The young witch sighed, what did she expect, Sinbad was handsome and charming, something which always gave him a following. Still Bryn couldn’t help her secret pleasure that Sinbad had become more selective of who received his attentions of late. The young sorceress shook off these thoughts and turned her attention back to her captain. She burst out laughing again when she noticed the slightly pained expression he was giving one young maiden. Her laughter died down to an amused smirk when he looked up and met her gaze across the square. Bryn bit her lower lip to keep from laughing again when the fearless Captain Sinbad sent her a pleading look, all but begging her to come and rescue him. The young witch couldn’t help it, she tried so hard to keep her laughter in that her body was shaking from the effort. The sorceress finally gave it up as a lost cause doubling over in uncontrollable mirth while still meeting his gaze, her Captain’s pleading look turn to a scowl. Many of the festival goers were giving Bryn strange looks when they saw her laughing like a mad woman apparently at nothing, but she didn’t care. Wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes Bryn decided to save her captain’s behind, literally, as she saw one young woman with fiery red hair accidentally brush a casually hand across his leather clad backside. The young Sorceress’ side was aching in repressed mirth when he jumped away in surprise and outrage.
“Captain I’m afraid there is a problem back at the ship,” Bryn said walking up to Sinbad, trying desperately to keep her face strait. It took a considerable mental effort as the corner of her naturally mischievous lips threatened to turn up into a grin. All the control in the world however couldn’t keep the merriment form dancing through her sparkling eyes.
Sinbad shot Bryn a dark look mouthing “You will pay for this” to which her reply was a quick cocky grin. Enjoying the game, Bryn made as if to leave causing Sinbad a moment of panic. Before she could desert him however, the young captain untangled himself from his admires and turned toward the maidens. “Ladies if you will excuse me,” he said treating each woman to one of his knee weakening smiles, “I’m afraid my duty calls.”
“Ah but the party is just getting started Captain,” the red head that had explored his leather clad asset said with an adorable pout.
“I am truly sorry,” he said again, actually managing to look like he meant it. Before anymore protests could be voiced Sinbad hastily rested his right hand on the small of Bryn’s back and motioned for her to lead the way. Bryn caught the look of pure malice the red head sent her way and had to repress her shiver. The young witch had received dirty looks before when rescuing her captain in this way, but never one that had contained such hate. Bryn hastily walked away the young captain following.
Sinbad tried to stay annoyed by Bryn’s apparent amusement at his former predicament, but he couldn’t quite seem to mange it. The play of firelight across her dark hair and smoothly tanned skin, along with the hint of lavender coming from her was enough to make him forgive her. It was also enough to make him question his sanity. For the hundredth time today he reminded himself that this was Bryn, trying in vain to reign in his wayward thoughts. As they walked Sinbad noticed the leering looks Bryn was receiving from most of the male population of Tangier. The young Captain gave the more aggressive ones hands off looks and kept his hand firmly at the small of her back in a possessive gesture. What still amazed Sinbad was Bryn’s utter and total ignorance of her affect on most of the male species. She was oblivious as she walked through the crowd and headed toward the table containing Doubar, Rongar, and Firouz.
The red head that had been vying for the young Captain’s attention was seething with undisguised anger and jealous. She had the captain right were she wanted him before that little wench had come and taken him away. The red headed young woman couldn’t help but think that she recognized that little tart. She was starring after the captain and his female crewmember when it suddenly hit her. The woman smiled cruelly and went to get her father all the while thinking that the little witch had a lot of nerve to show up here again.
When Sinbad and Bryn arrived at the table both had to contain their laughter at the glazed looks Doubar and Rongar were wearing. Firouz had apparently developed another theory and was bouncing the idea off of his two crewmembers
“My theory is that an object would stay in perpetual motion if I could find a way…” Firouz was saying until Doubar caught sight of Sinbad and Bryn.
“Ah lass you look lovely tonight,” Doubar said sending her a beseeching look, “How about a dance with an old crusty sea dog, make me fell young again,” Doubar pleaded the look in his eyes begging her to save him.
Bryn had to laugh, it seemed to be her night to save everyone, “Sure Doubar,” she agreed. The young witch held out her hand to the big man who took it gladly. The old sea dog and the young sorceress then found their way to the dance floor, Doubar taking the lead in an upbeat jig that a barmaid in Baghdad had showed him. Bryn laughed with the sailor as she tried to keep up with the spinning and whirling pace that he had set. She had been having so much fun that she hadn’t noticed the small group of rough looking men that where headed her and Doubar’s way.
Sinbad had been entranced by the vision of Bryn laughing and happy as she danced with his brother, that he failed to notice the group of villagers that were headed their way. Rongar however had seen them and the mute tapped his captain on the shoulder to bring it to his attention. Sinbad tore his attention reluctantly away from Bryn and turned to his Moorish friend to see what he wanted only to see Rongar gesturing frantically back toward Bryn. Confused he turned his gaze back to the young witch only to see a large man with shock red hair push her viscously to the ground. The young captain’s handsome face contorted in rage as he flew out of his chair. The chair hit the ground with a loud crash as the young captain reached for the hilt of his sword, his hand closing over air. Sinbad cursed low in his throat, he had forgotten the no weapons policy the magistrate had imposed for the festival. He had to take several deep breaths to get himself under control, starting a fight would only get innocent people hurt and wouldn’t help Bryn. Feeling marginally more in control of his emotions he stalked over to the dance floor Rongar right beside him.
Bryn felt her body connect with the hard ground, her hip bouncing against a buried piece of rock. The young witch yelped in pain as she wonder where this unbidden attack had come from. She had only a moment to process this thought when she felt strong gentle hands around her waist helping her to her feet. She turned to look over her shoulder and locked her brown eyed gaze on Rongar’s black one. The Moorish prince smiled briefly and steadied her, then he turned his attention back to the man who had pushed Bryn. His smile faded instantly and his face became a hard mask of undisguised anger. Bryn looked up and realized that in the split second it had taken for the man to push her to the ground, Sinbad, Doubar, Firouz and Rongar had arrived at her side. The four men angrily to stare down the group of men that seemed to want her blood, placing themselves between her and the mob.
The dancing had come to an abrupt halt as the townspeople gathered around Sinbad and his crew to see what would happen. Even back then people were drawn to the kind of sensationalism that has made Jerry Springer so famous. Sinbad stood next to his brother who was radiating fury his fists clenched. Sinbad himself wasn’t feeling very charitable but he knew that he had to keep the situation under control.
“Now that is no way to treat a lady,” the captain managed to say without a hint of a growl, but his eyes were hard. “If you wanted to dance you should have asked politely,” he added taking in the large man before him.
The large red haired man moved his expansive bulk in front of the young captain and exhaled his ale stenched breath right into the sailor’s face. Sinbad had to fight a wave of nausea as he swayed from the stench rising from the oath.
“I wouldn’t dance with that little witch if she was the last woman on earth,” the man replied nastily, and then with a finger pointed at Bryn. “You have a lot of nerve to show you’re murderous hide in these parts again,” the man said his hatred washing over Bryn in waves. Bryn had to gasp at the feeling she was picking up from this man. It was times like these that the young witch wished she could turn off her empathic abilities, the man’s intense hatred flowed through her veins and causing her to sway.
Sinbad and the crew responded to this threat by moving in closer to Bryn, Firouz on her left, Doubar and Sinbad in front of her making a human wall and Ronger slightly behind her on the right. The dark skinned moor made a point of nonchalantly cracking his knuckles one by one as some of the younger members of the posse tried to stare him down. The young men were starting to get uneasy as they watched the moor.
“You won’t get out of here alive again, witch,” he said the word witch like it was dirty and foul, “no matter how many men you have to defend, you little whore,” the man added his venom tangible.
“I don’t kno..” Bryn started to say but Sinbad cut her off.
Bryn was going to try and reason with this moron and the captain knew that the man was beyond civilized speech.
“I suggest you apologize to the lady,” Sinbad said tightly tired of being polite, “before me and my crew make you apologize.” The captain was just daring the man to start a fight.
The big oaf growled low in his throat and his body was suddenly taunt with tension, “You the one that is gonna make me little man,” he spat.
“If you insist,” the Captain replied not intimidated in the least by this big bully’s threats. The man may have been big but for an accomplished fighter like the captain he would be no match. You can’t hit someone if they're not there and Sinbad had already anticipated the oaf’s first move. The big red headed man was cocked his fist back to swing the first punch, but was stopped short by a bellowing authoritative voice that suddenly rose from someone in the crowd.
“What is the meaning of this,” a well-muscled, older, gray haired man yelled pushing his way through the milling crowd. The man was very distinguished looking with strong features and a military bearing to his walk. He wore the blue robes of a magistrate.
“Nolen,” the big man bellowed in anger, “I should have known that you would try and protect the she demon.” The man was glaring at Bryn. Bryn tired of standing by while this man accused her of whatever he was accusing her of decided to speak up. Ignoring Sinbad’s negative gesture the young witch opened her mouth to speak.
“Sir, I’m sure there has been a mistake. I don’t know you,” the young witch stated sincerely. In reality it was true she didn’t know him, she didn’t know anyone.
“You Lie” the big man roared enraged that Bryn even dared to speak to him. He rushed at Bryn but before Sinbad and Doubar could knock the man to the ground the tip of a thick wooden staff felled the giant. Nolen stepped in front of the captain and his brother, placing a restrain foot on the oaf’ chest while his staff went to the man’s throat. The big man tried to rise only to have the magistrate use the foot he had placed on his chest to push him back to the ground…hard.
“Lars you moron you can’t go around attacking strangers at the festival,” Nolen said in a tired voice. Dealing with Lars was old hat to him; the idiot being a habitual troublemaker.
“Don’t give me that stranger crap you self righteous basterd,” Lars spat. “Since when is your granddaughter a stranger,” and he gestured to Bryn.
The crew of the Nomad sent stunned eyes to the big oaf’s face and then looked to Bryn. The young witch had gasped in shock when she heard him refer to her as the other man’s family, the magistrate’s granddaughter no less. At that moment Nolen raised his head and looked at Bryn, his green eyes met her’s and the young woman could swear that he recognized her, but as quickly as it flashed there it was gone. Hope flashed in her eyes and she was about to question him about her identity, but he spoke before she could.
“Lars, Elly is dead,” the magistrate said sadly looking him in the eyes. “I did my duty five years ago when your brother was killed, she is dead…dead, “ he repeated his tone booking no arguments.
Lars still looked suspicious and threw another look toward Bryn, but this time his gaze was less sure. “My daughter said…” he started to say but Nolen cut him off.
“Everyone here saw what a fool she was making of herself over Captain Sinbad here,” Nolen replied with a gesture to the young blue eyed man. “She was just trying to get back at the young lass here for taking him away,” he explained his tone was harsh.
“But look at her…she…she looks just like her,” Lars said his eyes questioning and unsure.
“Aye she does bare a remarkable resemblance to my Elly, but can’t be her, it isn’t possible,” Nolen said his eyes sad. “She is dead Lars, you saw the body, how can you believe otherwise,” he added his loathing of the man and the pain his family had caused him coming through in his tone.
“I never believed that you really rid us of the she demon old man,” Lars said angrily, “but I never could prove otherwise,” he added, mistrust swirling in his eyes. “Can I get up now?” he questioned still belligerent but not in the mood to cause trouble anymore.
Nolen nodded and slowly removed his foot from the red headed man’s chest. He still eyed Lars warily though, as the man got to his feet and brushed himself off. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to try anything the magistrate lowered his staff slightly.
“Now apologize to the young lady and then you and your friends can leave for the night,” Nolen said mater of factly. The rest of the men that had supported Lars groaned loud and long as they cursed the big man for his stupidity. Sinbad and the rest of the male members of his crew still surrounded Bryn not willing to trust that the man wouldn’t try something. Lars turned to Bryn and gave her a grudging apology, and with one last glare at Nolen he turned to go, but not before two of the magistrate’s well armed men joined him and his friends to make sure that they didn’t get lost on their way out the door. Bryn was still slightly stunned about the whole affair, and although the man wanted to cause her physical agony, was disappointed that his identifying her was a mistake.
“Captain Sinbad,” Nolen said with a smile, “I so sorry for the trouble, you’ll have to forgive Lars, he was dropped on his head to many times as a child,” Nolen added his intense dislike of the man lacing his words.
Sinbad gave the magistrate his first real smile of the last few minutes as he laughed. “I must thank you magistrate for your help, I didn’t want to start any trouble in your fair city if I could avoid doing so,” he said ever the diplomat.
“The only trouble I have had is due to Lars,” the magistrate replied, his tone of a man whose patience has been stretched to the breaking point. “There just never was any reasoning with that man,” he added with a slight frown.
“Aye sir,” Doubar replied throwing in his two cents, “His kind only understands brute force,” the big man spat out in disgust.
“I’m afraid your right friend,” Nolen replied with a knowing grin.
“Again I thank you for your help sir,” Sinbad said with respect, “and I wonder if you would allow me to by you a drink.”
“I’m sorry Captain but it will have to be another time, on duty and all,” the distinguished magistrate replied regretfully. “And please call me Nolen, I hear sir and I start looking around for my father.”
Sinbad grinned again. “Nolen it is then, and allow me to introduce my crew. This is Doubar my big brother and first mate,” Sinbad said introducing the older man to his right with an emphasis on the word big. His brother caught the joke at his expense and shot his brother a mock glare. The magistrate also caught the twinkle in the captain’s eye and repressed his chuckle.
“It is a pleasure,” Nolen said, grasping the big man’s arm in a warrior handshake.
The young captain of the Nomad then introduced the others respectively. “This is Firouz, he is our ships Physician and resident scientist,” the Captain said with a fond smile at his friend.
“Ah a man of science, it is always good to meet a fellow tinker,” the magistrate replied with a smile.
“You have studied the scientific arts,” Firouz exclaimed excitedly, he was always happy to find someone who could understand his work.
“Yes I have dabbled for a long time,” Nolen said with a smile and then with a conspiratal wink added, "Perhaps we can share notes.”
Firouz ‘s eyes lit up at the chance to discuss his work and he answered, “I would like that sir,” at Nolen admonishing look he amended, “I mean Nolen.” The distinguished older gentleman nodded his approval and then turned to the next crewmember.
Sinbad grinned again and then introduced Rongar, “This is Rongar, please excuse him if he does not answer, he can not speak,” Sinbad added his eyes hard warning the magistrate that any negative comments about this would not sit well with the sailor.
Nolen being the wise man he is gave the moor a courtly bow. The distinguished magistrate had met enough royalty to know when he was in the presence of them. Rongar smiled a slight bemused grin and returned the bow. Sinbad was pleased that Nolen had recognized Rongar's distinct way of carrying himself as the formal training an aristocrat receives and smiled his approval. The young captain then turned to introduce the magistrate to Bryn.
“And this…is Bryn,” Sinbad said like he was introducing the older gentleman to the sultan’s daughter. Nolen noticed that the young captain’s face seemed to become a bit softer as he gazed at his female crewmember. The old man recognized that look, it was the look he had got ever time he had looked upon his darling Lysia, Allah rest her soul. He chuckled slightly to himself as he realized that the captain was quite smitten, and then his look of mirth changed to one of pain. She looked so much like Elly that it hurt to look upon her; still he forced himself to smile.
“It is a pleasure lass,” he said his slight Irish accent slipping out on the last word.
Bryn had felt the older man’s pain and being as sensitive as she is to other people knew the reason for it. “I’m sorry about you loss sir,” the young empath said her voice filled with sincerity and compassion.
Nolen looked up startled “How did you…” he started to say but then trailed off.
Sinbad broke in and explained before Bryn had a chance to. This earned the captain one of her patented annoyed looks. “Bryn has some special abilities when it comes to discerning emotions,” the young captain said. Sometimes, he amended to himself thinking about his own shaky emotions that were a direct result of the young sorceress’ presence on this earth.
Sinbad’s answer seemed of particular interest to the magistrate as he looked at Bryn with renewed interest. “What kind of abilities,” he asked sounding almost afraid to know the answer. This time Bryn answered for herself.
“I have magic…sometimes,” she added with a rueful grin, “and I can sense things, feeling and such,” the young witch explained.
Nolen eyes widen slightly and the young witch noted in confusion his sudden conflicting emotions, almost like the distinguished gentleman had become a different man right before her eyes. As soon as she felt them however they were gone and she was again looking into the green eyes of the town magistrate. The empath almost wondered if she imagined the whole thing.
“Well young magic holder I would be honored if you, the young captain, the Moorish prince, the scientist, and the honorable first mate would join me for dinner tomorrow,” he added his grin charming despite his age. He was every bit as proper as etiquette required with none of the personal conflicting emotions she thought she had sensed a minute ago. Bryn shook her head to clear it; she was definitely imagining things she thought ruefully.
The young witch cast a look to Sinbad to see if accepting would be all right. The captain assented with a nod of his head and the young witch happily told the magistrate yes. Sinbad couldn’t help but think that this promised to be an interesting stay in Tangier.
I made a game/page thing for my cousin's birthday and put it up there, and then I took everything down. I'm revamping, remodeling, whatever you wanna call it...as soon as I get some new fics hammered out (since I've been horribly neglecting Bryn fics and aim to fix that problem ASAP) it'll be back up. Thanks for the message!
--Cris
And I hope that you enjoy it. HEEHEEHEE. Evil grin! :-)
A Remember WENN crossover. This diverges from the episode "Survival Run."
Sherwood...Bryn Sherwood
"Are you ok?" Sinbad asked as Bryn gingerly felt her head.
She looked at him, "Just a goose egg." But he could tell she wasn't seeing him, her eyes were staring off into the distance. She got up with great difficulty, and her head throbbed as she hobbled over to the side , totally unaware of Sinbad's worried look. Bryn was seeing herself in one of the most beautiful gowns she'd ever seen. It looked as though it had been poured on, gold and glittery it brought out her stunning looks.
She was on a stage, singing to men in strange uniforms. There was one man in particular she was focused on. He had dark hair and soft brown eyes like hers and his grin made her want to smile. He was full of mischief and yet he was the kind of guy you could really talk to.
Bryn rubbed her aching temples, starring out at the now clear and calm waters. She practically jumped out of her skin when a hand rested on her shoulder and she looked into Sinbad's worried eyes. "What's wrong? And don't try to lie, you practically screamed just now."
"I don't know, I was having some kind of weird flashback." She shook her head.
Sinbad tensed, "I don't think I want to hear this." He was trying to shove aside the feeling that if she remembered her past he'd lose her, and he was just beginning to realize how much he really needed her.
Bryn smiled, "It's nothing like that. I was singing to a bunch of soldiers, but we were wearing strangest clothes. There was this one guy who seemed to be really special to me, I don't know how I know that, I just know."
*I knew I didn't want to hear this. He felt the most unreasonable wave of jealousy. He looked over at Bryn and saw that her gaze was transfixed on something on the docks. "What is it, Bryn?"
She just stared at the man's back, he was a little above medium height. His dark hair was a brilliant contrast to his cream colored suit, but there was this air of sadness and defeat around him. He slowly turned towards the Nomad and Bryn screamed, "Scottie!" Then she leapt off the ship and into the stranger's arms.
"Zarah! Oh, Zarah. After the bombings and you disappeared, I never thought I'd see you again." He picked her up and swung her around in circles. "Oh, baby girl, don't ever do that again!"
"Hey, little brother, who's the handsome man hugging our little Bryn?" Doubar, Rongar, and Firouz had come up behind Sinbad.
"I don't know. But I intend to find out!" His blue eyes spitting fire, Sinbad stalked over to them; barely restraining the urge to rip her from the other man's arms and saw that she was his. This Scottie was too good looking for Sinbad's comfort and, unlike the men in other port towns, Bryn actually seemed to welcome his attentions. The crew watched the proceedings with interested eyes.
"Bryn." She looked back, startled at the hard sound of Sinbad's voice. "Who's your 'friend'?"
"Zarah, don't tell me you're going by Bryn again. After all the trouble you got into." Scott shook his head in mock seriousness.
Her elusive grin flashed up at him, "Hey, when I awoke, that was the only name I remembered. And, if I remember correctly, dear brother, the trouble was you fault."
"Oh, that's right. Blame a brother who was only seeking to help his sister." His face bore a pained expression.
She snorted in disbelief, "By getting the whole town to back a bull running that was not happening?"
"How was I supposed to know that the weather would turn nasty?" His face was the picture of total innocence.
"I tried to tell you that it would, remember what we had to do then?"
"Break codes or serve in the army, I remember vividly." Scott grimaced, "You have to admit though, we Sherwoods are surprisingly talented in that area."
"Anything that is a little off center of the law, we Sherwoods are good at." Bryn, or rather Zarah, observed, grinning slightly. "But what are you doing here, for that matter, what am I?"
Sinbad listened to this exchange with wide eyes, now that he knew Scott was no rival he could see him clearly. There was a strong family resemblance in the strong facial structure, the eyes and strong chin. Their hair was about the same dusky shade and they were about the same size, although Bryn-er, Zarah- was more petite and fragile looking. They had the same sense of confidence, mischief making, and determination.
"I was in London, doing Lang a favor while I was between jobs. I visited the Cafe de'Rocca, what was left of it, I guess I stumbled on some of the rumble. The next thing I know, I was standing here and there you were." He glanced around and saw Sinbad, "Which reminds me. Are you going to introduce us?"
Zarah turned to Sinbad, "Forgive me. Captain Sinbad meet my brother Scott Sherwood. Scott, this is Captain Sinbad of the Nomad. And no, I'm not kidding."
"An honor to meet you. We've been anxious to find out anything about Bryn-er, Zarah's- past."
"Her past?" Scott looked at his sister for an explanation.
"When I arrived, I had no memory of who I was. Sinbad found me and took me aboard his ship because Dim-Dim said I'd be a great asset in the fight against the dark forces." She slapped her head, "Dim-Dim, of course! How could I have been so dumb?"
"What do you mean?" Sinbad asked, *That's not the only reason I brought you aboard, darling.
"Dim-Dim asked me to give you a hand after I was injured in the bombings. See, when he was arranging for Maeve to go to him something went wrong and I was brought back. He knew I could help, even then I didn't remember who I was. When the blast hit the cafe, I got clobbered by a rather nice 2x4." She said wryly. Zarah glanced at her brother, something was troubling him and she knew he needed to tell her. "Captain, don't you have a prisoner to deliver? Scott, why don't we get all caught up, something's troubling you."
Sinbad nodded and went back to the Nomad reluctantly but his eyes watched them walk away arm in arm. "So, who was that?"
"Scott Sherwood, her older brother. Oh, and her name is Zarah." His mind was racing with what he'd just learned. *What did she mean when she said "off the center of the law"? He firmly shrugged aside that problem to focus on the best way to get Dara to see the Sultan.
"So tell me what you've been up to lately. Any new cons or is the government still wanting you to work for them?"
"Actually, I've been working as the station manager at WENN in Pittsburgh."
Her shout of laughter stopped him, "You? You doing an honest days work? No scams, no fast ones, a steady, regular job." She got control of her giggles, "That's a new one for you, Scottie."
"That's rich coming from you, working for Sinbad the Sailor." He teased back, tweaking her ear.
"Hey, I had amnesia on my side. What's your excuse?" She hit him lightly on the arm.
"I heard about this incredible girl who worked there. The smart, intelligent, pretty Betty Roberts, head writer for WENN."
"Ah, a woman. The cause of many a man's downfall." Zarah intoned gravely.
"Rich coming from a woman who's probably fallen for a pair of midnight blue eyes and a capacity for adventure."
She shrieked with laughter, "Oh, no. My dirty secrets out!" Zarah looked at him, "Don't be silly, I admire Sinbad, that's all."
Scott wondered if she knew how she really felt about Sinbad. Knowing Zarah, he'd bet that she didn't realize a thing. "Anyway, I wanted to meet her. So, I offered to take Victor Comstock's, he's the original station manager of WENN, gift to Mr. Eldridge to WENN personally. Once there, I said that Victor had sent me back to be manager. Victor was right about Betty."
"And you fell for her?" Zarah observed softly.
"Like a ton of bricks. I started out to make a profit, but I came to care about them all, they filled the hole in my heart that was left when you disappeared." He sighed, "But Rollie Pruitt, he's the guy that handles all the finances and part owns WENN, did some investigating. Some of the shadier things I did caught up with me and I was summarily fired. I told Betty the truth, the whole truth, and she slapped me for it. I walked out of WENN and really don't know what I'm going to do. My time there changed me, for the better, but there is no hope for me and Betty now."
Zarah stared at him, sitting there with his head in his hands. "I don't believe this is Scott Sherwood speaking. Who are you and what have you done to my brother?" She was only half joking, she understood exactly what he meant.
"Zarah, it's not so simple. You know what we've done, what we are-cons through and through."
She scoffed, "Give me a break. There is no written rule that we have to follow the path of our ancestors. We've both changed our lives, we've become different people because we've met those who have given us the desire to do better, we've wanted to do better. Our family has always considered us the black sheep."
"Betty would never trust me again after all that I told her. Besides, Pruitt banned me from being station manager."
"What did you once tell me about counting all your chickens before the hatch?"
"Be serious."
"I am. You love Betty and we know that a door will always open if we keep knocking. Get back into WENN, who says you need to be a manager. I've seen you act, all stations need actors. Be there, show them you are worthy of trust, show that change of heart. You are my big brother Scott Sherwood and you've never said die, even when those blasted codes got to be too much, you'd never yield. Don't start now."
"Are you sure you're my sister? You don't seem like the rest of us." Scott grinned and put his arm around her shoulder. He gently turned her back towards the Nomad.
"Look who's talking." She saw where they were headed and grinned wickedly, "In a hurry to get back?"
"You better believe in, baby girl." He swatted her on the backside.
She tsked, "What would Betty say?"
"I shudder to think." They grinned and hugged tightly.
"I'm gonna miss you so much." Zarah said into his shoulder.
"Come back with me."
"I can't, I promised." She said through a throat clogged with tears.
He nodded understandingly, "And if there is one thing we Sherwoods value above all else, it's keeping our promises."
"I love you so much, Scottie." Zarah called to his rapidly fading image.
"I love you, too. You've got a good thing going, don't try to change too much." He looked at his watch, "Oh, would you look at the time."
"Very exciting." She quipped and they exchanged grins before he was gone.
Sighing softly and wondering what she was going to do, Zarah boarded the Nomad. "Why are you still here?"
"We had decided to go over land but don't exactly trust the guide, there's something shifty about him." Sinbad slid over and she sat down.
"We don't want to take any chances but..."
"Dara needs to stand trial."
"Exactly."
Zarah thought for a moment and glanced at Dara, "Has anyone actually ever seen you?" Dara shook her head and Zarah walked over and looked at her. "I could pass for you. We're about the same height, the same coloring, I think I have a cloak about that shade. As long as no one actually looks into my face, we should be able to pull it off." Her Sherwood mind racing, Zarah looked at all the possibilities. She continued to speak as though it was silent in the room, "The Nomad would arrive earlier than an overland group, but they would be concentrating on were you are, Sinbad. It could work."
"It's too dangerous."
"Oh, stuff. We both know Dara is innocent, if she doesn't see the Sultan she'll never get a fair trial." She looked at Dara, "I know you want to run but if you do every bounty hunter would be after you. Besides, you'll be haunted by this for the rest of you're life. You know who the real killer is, he won't let you live. Deal?"
"Deal. But how do you know I didn't do it?" Dara asked curiously, "I was there."
"You don't have the eyes of a killer and you loved him too much to betray him." They walked into her cabin and quickly did her hair like Dara's. then they switched outfits. "Stay covered with this robe if you can, they won't be able to see but just in case."
Although Sinbad had strongly objected, he knew that this was the safest way as far as Dara was concerned. Zarah sat beside Doubar with the shackles on her wrists, she knew it pained the crew and Sinbad to see her like this but at least they acknowledged that it was the only way. After clearing Dara, they left for ports unknown.
Zarah stood at the prow and looked out at the night sky. Knowing her past did have its benefits but...she sighed, she just didn't know who she was anymore. Was she Bryn, a faithful Nomader or Zarah Sherwood, con artist extrodanair. She shivered, and what of her magic? It had held no real place in her life as Zarah, she'd denied it for so long but as Bryn, she'd embraced it and accepted it as a part of her, even tried to learn it. Who was she? Zarah hugged her arms around her waist and felt Sinbad come up behind her.
"Are you okay? You've been so quiet." He put a hand on her shoulder, "You know you can talk to me. What is it?"
Zarah turned to face Sinbad, "I know. I'm confused. I thought finding my past would relieve that confusion, but it hasn't. I don't know who I am anymore." She read his confusion, "I know, it doesn't make any sense does it? Maybe you should sit down."
They went below to his office, Sinbad lit a candle and placed it on a table. She sat on top of the table and stared at the flames for a moment before she began. Zarah looked straight at Sinbad, "You might want to sit down for this. I'm not exactly sure how to say this."
"Zarah, you're beginning to scare me. Just say it." He was really worried, Bryn, he refused to call her Zarah, wasn't acting in character. She was usually so direct and honest. What, he wondered, could be so bad that she was acting this way?
"Ok. I want to leave the Nomad." Sinbad felt as though he'd been set adrift during a violent storm. Of all the things he expected her to say, this wasn't one of them. She broke the silence that had stretched between them for far too long, "Well, say something."
"What would you like me to say?" His voice was deceptively calm, inside he was boiling.
"I don't know." She was alarmed by the anger she felt emanating from him.
"When did you decide this? When you saw your 'brother' today?" He put his clenched fists behind him, forcing them to relax. It was amazing, he thought, that one could carry on a normal conversation when one's world had suddenly fallen apart.
"No, it was when I had that strange flashback. I knew then that I had to find out what my past was, meeting my brother was a boon I didn't expect." She smiled fondly, "He's fallen in love with the most marvelous woman. Anyway, I would like you to take me to Ingra. I know that there is someone there who can help me."
"But I don't see why you need to leave at all." *Well, at least that really was her brother. He watched the candlelight play across her dark tresses, illuminating her eyes, and already thinking about the best route to Ingra. Sinbad would take her, he could do no less. He loved her. Love? He thought in shock, yes that's exactly how he felt.
As this turmoil was going on inside Sinbad, Zarah told him everything. "Sinbad, the reason I have to go is because I did some pretty bad things in my past. Oh, I never hurt anyone or anything like that, but I did make a living pulling some cons. My family has always been full of shysters and con artists, its something we've been raised to do. I never knew anything else, oh sure me and Scottie would break codes for the government or do some undercover work but basically we were out for what was best for us."
She ran a hand through her hair and side. "And what about my magic? I denied it existed, except when I could use it to pull a fast one on some poor, unsuspecting individual. I would tell them their 'future', then I'd make it come true. Harmless stuff really, but when I think of the good it has done for you and others, I hate myself. How I could just ignore the good that my gift could do." Zarah looked at him, "Can you understand? That was the life I was raised to, until I met you I never thought about helping others. I just don't know anything about myself anymore, that's why I need to go."
"Bryn," She looked at him and he corrected himself, "Zarah, we would never hold your past against you. Besides, you are a good person and a wonderful friend. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. You've contributed so much."
Zarah waved this aside. "I know that. In my head I know that, but in my heart..." She sighed, "I just don't know who I am anymore. I'll never be a whole person if I don't know for myself who I am."
His heart screamed nooooo, don't let her go. But his head said, if you love her, you need to. "We'll take you to Ingra."
"Thank you." She smiled, relieved. "Good night, dear friend." She kissed his cheek and suddenly found herself pulled into a tight embrace. "Sinbad, what are you..." She was ruthlessly kissed, the world spun under her feet and she grabbed onto him for balance. Her arms slowly slid up around his neck and she was kissing him back, just when she was about to faint he released her and they looked at each other, he saw the surprised passion in her eyes.
"I'm sorry." He quickly left the room, shaking with the raw emotions within him. She watched him leave, then raised a trembling hand to her lips and felt wilted, her whole body was alive with new feelings and it confused her. Zarah didn't know how long she'd stood there like that but she finally dragged herself from to her room and fell onto the bed.
Sinbad berated himself for giving in to the temptation and wondered if she'd ever speak to him again. The voyage was a long one for all involved what with Zarah avoiding Sinbad and he doing the same to her. As they sailed into port, Zarah looked nervously out. She knew this was the right thing but she felt so alone, Sinbad walked up to her. "Zarah, I don't know what to say. You've been such a good friend, I shouldn't have taken advantage of your vulnerability."
"You not the only one to blame, I shouldn't have sprung my decision on you like that. I expect you were just in shock and it was just a reaction, something that happened." She tried to sooth him, while inside her heart was jumping just to be near him again. He smelled of the sea and looked so good.
"That's no excuse. It was my fault." Sinbad was trying hard to concentrate on returning their relationship to the more comfortable companionship of earlier days, but it was so hard to with her looking so beautiful.
"Don't be silly, we've always known that there is an attraction between us. We just gave in because we were both afraid of what the future would bring. It just happened, we'll just forget it." But both were thinking, not a chance and wondering when it would happen again. Zarah wanted more than anything to put her head on his broad shoulder and let him take her away from all her problems.
Sinbad stared at her and wanted to tell her of his love, but these feelings were still so new to him and so different from anything he'd ever felt before that he couldn't speak of them. He just nodded at her, "All right. I hope you find the answer you seek."
"If I do, you'll be the first to know." He looked at her curiously, "Dermott has decided to come with me. I tried to talk him out of it but..."
"He should be with you. Maeve sent him to you." Sinbad smiled and touched her cheek, she drew in a deep breath and looked at him, wondering what she wanted from him exactly.
She left the Nomad that sunny afternoon, filled with doubts and fears. She wondered if she'd ever see any of them again.
The End.
FEEDBACK!!! Please? (My sister nearly killed me when she read this. Am I evil or what?)
