Page 22 of Potions & Pints
“Vir,” asked one of the orcs — Tan didn’t notice which. “Would you teach me a song on the lyre?”
Tan shot Vir a warning look, but the ever-accommodating orc didn’t appear to notice.
“Of course!” he replied happily. All three of the guard orcs seemed to want the same thing all of a sudden, and they gathered around Vir, eager to learn from the bard.
It very quickly became clear that unskilled orc fingers were absolute murder on the ears when they were let anywhere near a lyre, and it was this that suddenly pierced the air.
Pili, who was standing nearby, shot Tan a look of pure suffering and Tan couldn’t help but laugh.
“How long do you think we’ll have to put up with this?” the water elf asked, taking refuge on the bow with Tan.
“How long does it take to get to Gamlin Ait?” Tan replied, shooting Pili a sardonic grin. “Honestly, if the Heaving Sea doesn’t spell our demise, those lyre lessons will. The sound is enough to make me want to jump overboard.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” replied the water elf, grinning. Tan could see there was a hint of mischief in his eye.
Before Tan could respond, Pili ran to the side of the ship and threw himself into the sea. This was no dangerous task, of course — Tan knew the water elf could breathe just fine down there. It was when he was planning to come back that made Tan wonder.
And in the meantime he had only the piercing sounds of three orcs trying to play a lyre at the same time for company.
Luckily, Pili wasn’t away for too long. He reappeared momentarily, a fish clutched in his hands. When he waved it in front of Tan, he was grinning.
“That galley food isn’t the best,” he whispered to Tan conspiratorially. He looked around to make sure the cook wasn’t in earshot. “What say we sneak down and cook this up?”
Tan grinned. “That sounds like the best idea you’ve had all day,” he replied. “I don’t know about that though,” he added, pointing at the mass of seaweed he suddenly noticed clutched in Pili’s other hand.
“More for me,” the water elf replied as they made their way down to the kitchen and away from the horrid noises of the lyre.
Unfortunately, the racket was still going when they reemerged with the grilled fish and the orcs, ordinarily distracted by food, barely put the lyre down even as they ate. In fact, they passed in between them, eating and playing in shifts.
It was only as they passed within sight of Deramor — a port town on the north-eastern tip of Lameria — that the horrible sound of dissonant strumming stopped.
“I think we’ll be docking here,” said Ogen, laying down the lyre, much to Tan and Pili’s relief. “The captain mentioned something about a supply run.”
Tan’s chest swelled at the thought. He knew he’d never escape the orc guards but a little stop on solid land might afford him other opportunities.
As soon as they landed, the ship’s crew hurried down the gangplank, with Garu, Sori, and Ogen escorting Tan and the others. The port town, like most port towns, was bustling and lively, and Tan immediately spied what he was looking for.
“Hey! What about a quick drink?” he said, flashing a charming smile at the orcs. “It might be our last chance before we reach the Heaving Sea.”
As he’d hoped, the orcs took the bait and the six of them made their way to the closest tavern. As soon as they were inside, though, Tan ignored the bar and made a beeline for the closest card game.
While the others enjoyed the quick drink he’d boasted of, Tan used his old tricks to start winning round after round, and soon he was raking in piles of ignithra gold coins.
His new companions however, were mostly unsavory characters — pirates, thieves, vagabonds. This wasn’t surprising — most people who spent their time hanging around dockside taverns were either just coming or just going, which meant they had little to lose. Except their money.
As Tan pulled up yet another pile of winnings, one of the old men finally slammed his fist on the table, causing the whole bar to go quiet.
“I d’know what game you be playin’ elf, but it ain’t a fair one! In fact,” he continued, pulling out a knife. “If I di’n’t know any better I’d say you was cheatin’!”
Tan tried his best to stay calm, but the look in the pirate’s eyes was crazed and others around him were giving similar looks.
All of a sudden, the air was pierced with an angelic sound. Tan knew that voice anywhere. It was Vir.
His ode to Lothian had apparently been turned into a song since Tan had last heard it and the sound of his voice, along with the beauty of the ballad, had a calming effect on the table. Even the pirate put down his knife to listen.
When the song was done, the bar’s appreciative silence was replaced with a hearty round of applause. Tan felt Vir lean close to him, his breath tickling his neck as the orc whispered in his ear. Tan’s breath caught.
“Throw the next game,” he said. His words were secret to everyone’s ears but Tan’s, covered by the sound of clapping.
