CHAPTER TEN: DAY'S END
Fawkes sat on one of the rowing benches drinking a mug of Peak Ale freshly poured from the new barrel delivered by Cragjumper's Alehouse. It was just what he needed at the end of an exhausting day. Barrels of cider, ale, Crumps and Jerky, and hard biscuits had also been purchased, replacing the empty ones. A stowe under one of the benches now held a collection of jams, nut butters, and apple butter.
After his shopping, he had scrubbed the Gosling from top to bottom, then inside and out, with pine oil. His only rest had been during the arrival of his purchases. Rests that were more putting things away than actually resting. Minor repairs had been made, all the metal polished, and even the stowes had been emptied, scrubbed, sorted, and neatly repacked.
PeyPey and JuJu, freshly bathed, chewed new ox bones as they lay on their spare blankets. They had earned those bones by hauling sacks of laundry, including their favorite blankets, to the washerwoman. Once back at the Gosling, the dogs hauled buckets of fresh water and dumped out water turned dirty from Fawkes' scrubbing.
"Ahoy the Gosling," Bristol said from the dock, a corked bottle of rum in his hands.
"Come aboard, Bristol," Fawkes waved a hand at the five empty benches.
The old fisherman scraped his boots on the edge of the dock before stepping down onto the newly cleaned deck. He sat on the bench across from Fawkes and closed his eyes. Taking a deep sniff of the pine scent all Fawkes' scrubbing with pine oil had left behind, he opened his eyes with a smile.
"Aint you just put ever' other boat here to shame," he said with a chuckle. Bristol uncorked his bottle and waved it towards the dogs before taking a swig. "An' your crew there were mighty fine."
"She really needed it," Fawkes took another swallow of his ale in hopes of washing away the last twinges of guilt he felt over having let his keelboat get so dingy.
"I'm gonna have to swab up Boatessa now. She's been holding that bad old fish smell for too long." Bristol sipped from his bottle. "What kinda pay would it take to hire your crew to haul buckets?"
PeyPey stopped his chewing to look at Bristol with his floppy ears pricked. JuJu thumped his tail on the deck. He did not stop chewing.
"Some really big bones fresh from the butcher." Fawkes laughed. "They always need more bones."
Both dogs thumped their tails. PeyPey went back to chewing. JuJu gave his bone a hard bite.
Bristol winced at the loud crack and crunch.
"Bones it is."
As they relaxed and drank in companionable silence, Fawkes remembered Bristol saying he had been teaching his nephew all about the Thrundank. The old fisherman had no love for The Hand or Rapp, so even if he wanted no part of what Fawkes was doing, he would not be talking to them. He hoped.
Fawkes huffed out a breath. Damnation, he needed help and the Brethren would not give him the sort of help he wanted.
"Bristol," Fawkes stopped to swallow more ale. When the old fisherman looked at him, he continued. "I've been doing some things."
"What things?" Bristol asked in a curious but patient tone.
"The Hand stole a very special book from my Grandfather during the murder."
The old fisherman said nothing.
"I have been watching The Hand to try and get it back but they were keeping it in a magic sack hidden in one of their hideouts."
"Must be waiting for a buyer if they haven't got rid of it."
"Maybe, but the other night they moved the sack. It never got to where they were going as they were all killed by nisslings who took it."
Bristol sucked in a breath.
"You sure, boyyo? Aint been nothin' said 'bout nisslin's, an' the watch ain't gettin' uppity."
"I saw the bodies myself," Fawkes shifted on his bench. "I do know a bit of magic but using it when there is a killer wizard about is ... risky."
"Is that bit enough to kill that wizard if he gets onto you?"
"Not a chance." Fawkes huffed. "I used some of that magic last night. I know exactly where in the swamp the nisslings have the book and made a map but --."
"But yer smart enough to know there's more to gettin' about the Thrundank than a map."
Fawkes nodded.
Bristol took a swig from his rum bottle but said nothing.
Fawkes kept quiet, giving the old man time to think things over.
Another three swigs of rum and a handful of minutes later, the old fisherman spoke.
"Nothin' we do'll bring our people back to us, boyyo." He met Fawkes' eyes with a hard yet glistening look to his own eyes. "But I don't like leavin' 'em just to memory, either. I'll take you into the Thrundank. Am sure you can finagle that book back from them nisslin's."
"Finagle?"
"Nisslin's are always eager to trade off their raided loot so they expect visitors. Long's you got coins with you, they're friendly."
"That's really good to hear. Thank you." Leave it to a fisherman to know about such dealings. I need to learn what other interesting tidbits such folk have learned.
The old fisherman chuckled.
"Don't thank me 'til Boatessa gets us to the nisslin's." He took a final swig of his rum and stood up. "We'll be leavin' right at sunup. I'll go get her ready then git some sleep."
Fawkes rose and clasped forearms with Bristol.
"I'll be ready then."
PeyPey and JuJu exchanged a look, nodded to each other, then went back to their bones. Fawkes finished his ale, took the dogs for their last walks, and went to bed. After such a busy day, he went right to sleep.
