Zypheria's Call (A Tanyth Fairport Adventure) (25 page)

He glanced at Tanyth with something like longing in his eyes. “You ever met her mother?”

Tanyth shook her head.

“Pity. Lovely woman.” He glanced down again and blew out a sigh. “Too many tides come and gone now,” he muttered. “Too many tides.”

He stood like that for a moment, but before Tanyth could speak, he started rummaging in a crate across the room, mutterin’, “Trousers, trousers.” He soon came up with two pairs of dark blue pants that matched the coat. “Here we go, mum. I’ll just step outside and give you ladies a bit of private. You try them on and lemme know when it’s safe ta come back, yeah?”

She slipped the jacket off and laid it on top of an unopened box. “That sounds quite proper, Mr. Harris,” she said.

He slipped out, closing the door behind him with a bang.

It took on a couple of minutes for them to discover which pair of pants fit whom. The smaller pair was too small for Tanyth but the larger pair slipped over her hips with a bit of room to spare. The smaller pair fit the slim-hipped Rebecca without a problem.

“We’ll need belts to hold them up,” she muttered, “but they’ll do.” She pulled the trousers off and laid them on top of the coat, before slipping her own tinker’s pants back on. “All clear, Mr. Harris,” when they’d made themselves presentable once more.

He bustled in and looked back and forth between them. “Fit, did they?”

“Yes, Mr. Harris. Quite well. What’s next?”

He pursed his lips and looked her up and down a couple of times, his eyebrows raising and lowering a couple of times. “You’re not fishin’ so you don’t need boots...” He eyed her short, gray hair. “You got a hat?”

“Nothin’ suitable for a windy day, I’m afraid.”

“Ah, ha!” He dug into a box and pulled out what looked like a pair of knit sacks. He gave one to each woman. “Try ’em on.”

The bag turned out to be a hat that pulled down over her forehead and around her ears with a lot of material left to spare.

“Fold up the edge, mum. Make a bit of a roll of it.” He pulled out another hat and showed her, pulling the hat on his own head.

She did and found that the hat fit snug around her ears, gripping her head without binding. Rebecca looked snug in hers. Tanyth looked at Harris and he beamed in response.

“Just so, mum. Just so.” He looked back and forth between them. “Anything else you ladies need?”

Rebecca said, “I need some warm sweaters. Perhaps a sailor’s jersey? And a slicker.”

Harris’ mouth twisted in a grin on the side of his face. “Got just the thing, just the thing. He crossed to the back corner of the room and lifted the lid on a smallish crate. He pulled out a fistful of jerseys, and fumbled through the pile until he found the one he wanted. He glanced at Tanyth. “How ’bout you, mum? Finest wool. Softer than silk.” He held the fabric out for her to feel.

She brushed a hand across it and was surprised by the smooth texture of it. “What kind of sheep gives that kind of wool, Mr. Harris?” she asked, almost unable to pull her hand back from the soft warmth of it.

He grinned, showing a gap in his teeth that made him look more rakish than he had before. “Not sheep, mum. Goats. Special kinda goat gives this really fine wool.”

“I’ll take two,” Tanyth said. “And two for her.”

He nodded and started shuffling through the pile, holding up the turtle-necked jerseys against each of them until he was satisfied with the sizes, muttering to himself the whole time. He soon had four picked out and stacked up with the rest of the clothing.

“And a slicker, ye say?” His head tilted back and forth. “You plannin’ on bein’ on deck in the rain?”

Rebecca grinned. “I’m workin’ passage, Mr. Harris. Mr. Groves said it might get wet.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You are? Working the deck on the Call, ya say?” He looked back and forth between Tanyth and Rebecca.

“Yes, sir. I am.” Rebecca’s voice carried a ring of steel in it.

Harris’s smile, when it came, lit up the small room. “An’ jes’ like your mother, too, so why I should be surprised...” He slapped a thigh for punctuation and started pushing crates around. “I got a shipment of ponchos in the other day. Be just the thing, I’m thinkin’. Now if I can just remember where they are.”

He struggled and fussed and furrowed his brow, examining the floor as if the answer might be in the grit between the boards.

“Ah! Of course.” He banged out through the door and returned almost immediately, pushing a crate across the scarred floorboards with a dreadful grinding. “Forgot to bring it in,” he muttered, a little breathless from his exertion.

He grabbed a pry-bar from a nail in the wall and soon had the cover off and pulled out a drab green bundle of fabric that smelled of linseed oil and sheep’s wool. He grabbed one corner and shook it out revealing a kind of tent. He held it out to Rebecca. “Put that on.”

She took it and held it up, turning it this way and that. “I’d be happy to, Mr. Harris, but how?”

He guffawed. “Pull over. Stick yer head through the hole.”

With that bit of instruction the purpose of the rectangular garment became clear. Rebecca opened the wide bottom and pulled it over her head, sliding her arms into wide sleeves. A hood of the same fabric covered her head and neck, leaving only her face exposed in the front.

“This will keep me dry?” she asked holding her arms away from her body and looking down at herself. She wrinkled her nose.

“Well, dry is a relative term at sea, miss,” Harris said with an apologetic shrug. “Drier than without but if it rains enough, it’ll soak through. The linseed oil in the outer cover will shed water a bit and the lanolin on the wool inside will help more.”

“So sailors wear these?” Rebecca asked.

Harris rubbed the palm of his hand across his lips. “Well, mostly no, Miss. Truth told, they can’t be bothered with ’em. They’re good in a little rain, but they get heavy fast and then when you’re wet through...well, you’re wet.”

Tanyth frowned a bit at the logic. “So, what do they do?”

Harris grinned. “Well, mum, they get wet. Out there, wet’s pretty common. The trick is to stay warm.”

“What would you give to a new deckhand, Mr. Harris?” she asked.

“A pile of cotton undershirts and a tin of liniment,” he said without a beat.

The two women shared a glance and a frown.

“Can you explain that, Mr. Harris?” Rebecca said.

“Wear a couple of the cotton undershirts. Toss on one of them goat wool jerseys over it all and add a windbreaker like your watchcoat. They’re actually good at holding water off you for a while. Light rain, you pro’ly won’ notice. When it gets really damp, you’ll get wet through but the cotton will hold the water close to your skin.”

“How’s that help?” Tanyth asked.

“Your body heat will warm it up. You’ll be wet, but as long as it stays next to your body, it’ll be warm enough. Just keep workin’ and get out of the wet clothes as soon as ya can.”

“And the liniment?”

“Rope and salt water will dry your hands out somethin’ dreadful. Liniment will help keep them from crackin’ and bleedin’.”

“Bleedin’?” Rebecca said, her voice rising to almost a squeek.

“Oh, aye. Liniment will help keep your skin from dryin’ out. That’ll keep it from getting’ chapped and cracked. Salt water in the cracks hurts like blazes. Liniment. Yes’m. Benjamin didn’t mention it?”

They shook their heads.

Harris scoffed. “Pro’ly don’t use it himself so didn’t think. Once your hands get used to the ropes and canvas and such, it’s nothin’ to be concerned about, but a new deck ape? Yeah. That’s what I’d give ’em. Pile o’ cotton undershirts and a tin o’ liniment.”

Rebecca nodded her head. “If you’d find some that I could wear, Mr. Harris? And you stock this liniment?”

He grinned. “O’course, miss. Be just a minute.”

He rummaged and fumbled about, pulling out shirts from one crate and pulling a squat, square can of liniment out of a cubby. He stacked the lot on top of Rebecca’s pile then turned to Tanyth. “And for you, mum?”

She shook her head. “I’ll go with what I got. She’s workin’ passage. I’m just along for the ride.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Aw-right, then. Is there anythin’ else?”

“Thank you, Mr. Harris,” Tanyth said. “And how much for all this?”

He nodded and held up one fat digit. “A moment, mum. Lemme just look.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a bit of chalk. He puttered about with the crates, smudging out numbers and making new marks, squinting at notations on the sides of the boxes. He did a fair amount of muttering and nodding to himself. “All right, mum. The coat’s s’posed to be six silver, but I’ll never sell that size out so, I’ll give ya both coats for ten. Pant’s are five each.” He shrugged in apology. “Less wool, but more work. The jerseys are four silvers, but I’ll throw in the last one for free so twelve there.”

“Very fair price, Mr. Harris.” Tanyth winced to herself. She hadn’t owned clothes that cost more than a silver in her life. She had to admit to herself that she also made most of her clothes and she lacked the skill and knowledge to work that kind of heavy wool. “And the hats?”

He made a dismissive gesture. “I’ll throw that in to sweeten the deal, mum. I’d hate to think of ya out there freezin’ yer ears off.”

“And my shirts and the liniment?” Rebecca said.

“Add a silver for the shirts and another for the liniment.”

“Done, Mr. Harris, and thank you kindly.”

They shook hands and Tanyth counted out the silvers from her dwindling supply, glad that she’d had the presence of mind to fill her pocketbook when she’d gotten the golds for passage.

Tanyth and Rebecca bundled the heavy clothing up as best they could and followed Harris back through the maze to the front of the chandlery.

“You’ve rather a lot of goods here, Mr. Harris.”

“Oh, aye, mum. Pretty much anythin’ a ship might need to get out and back again safe.” He looked around proudly. “Canvas to paint, lines to linens. Just about anything.”

She paused at the door. “Food? Tea?”

“O’course, mum. Can’t sail without tea. And barrels of flour, hard tack, salt fish.” He waved a hand in the air to help him think. “Beans, oatmeal, cornmeal. Beans. I already said beans.”

“I could use some tea. Mr. Groves said I should stock up on anything special I might like...”

Mr. Harris grinned. “Oh, aye, but you don’t need to worry about tea. Ole Saul Groves, he likes his tea too much to risk runnin’ out.” Harris nodded. “He’s got at least a hun’erd weight of tea aboard already, mum.”

The number took her by surprise. “A hundred pounds of tea?”

“Aye, mum. Sailors drink a lot of tea.”

“How long is this voyage?”

He blinked at her. “You don’t know, mum?”

She shrugged. “The subject’s never come up.”

“Usually takes a week and a half to two weeks to make the passage. This time of year, watching for ice and all, probably two, two and a half.”

“Thank you, Mr. Harris. You’ve been very helpful.”

He knuckled his brow. “Thank you for your custom, mum.” He shook his head. “Don’t get many womenfolk in here.”

She stopped with her hand on the latch. “You get some then?”

He’d already started back into the depths of the warehouse but stopped with a shrug. “Well, no, mum. You’re the first.” He glanced at Rebecca. “First since her ma used to sneak in to buy fishin’ gear from my da.” He rolled his mouth up as if to prevent himself from saying more.

Tanyth felt Rebecca stiffen and looked to her, but she just shook her head. Even in the dimness of the chandlery, Tanyth saw her eyes gleam wetly.

With a nod to Harris, Tanyth said, “Well, thank you for your assistance, Mr. Harris.”

“My pleasure, mum. My pleasure. Safe voyage.” He raised a hand in salute and disappeared around a pile of barrels.

Tanyth followed Rebecca out of the shop, hearing the bell jingle again. She still wore the knit cap and reached up to tug one side down over her ear. The afternoon breeze had an edge to it and she was glad to have the protection. “Shoulda got one of these ages ago,” she muttered.

Rebecca smiled at her, and tugged her own hat down a little. “They are practical, aren’t they, mum?”

Tanyth nodded and cast Rebecca a sideways look. “You wanna talk about it?”

“My mother?”

Tanyth nodded. “Yeah.”

Rebecca shook her head. “No, mum. I’d rather not. Can I help you lug some of that?” She nodded at the bundle of woolens that Tanyth had wrapped in her arms.

Tanyth snickered. “Well, you got more to carry than I do, my dear. If I can keep from droppin’ my stick, we should be all right to get back to the ship.” They started walking back down the pier. “But I don’t know where we’re gonna stow all this stuff.”

“Under the bunks, prob’ly, mum.”

Tanyth shot her a look. “You been on a ship before?”

Rebecca shook her head. “Father wouldn’t allow it.” She grinned at Tanyth, “But I peeked in the cupboards while you were busy with Benjamin. They’re empty.”

Tanyth’s eyebrows shot up. “Benjamin, is it?”

“Mr. Groves,” Rebecca said. “I meant Mr. Groves.”

Tanyth laughed. “I know what you meant, girl. I know what you meant.”

The setting sun cast their shadows across the pier as they trudged back to the ship.

Chapter Twenty:
Settling In