CHAPTER FIVE: MORNING
Wet tongues woke Fawkes.
Muttering dire threats at the two culprits, he got dressed. His threats won him nothing more than panted laughs and wagging tails.
He scooped out two bowls of Crumps and Jerky, a tasty travel rations of oats covered with honey brittle mixed with cut-up bits of jerky. They were the best fare a skipper could provide his crew when they were reduced to eating rations. His own stomach growled. He needed to purchase more soon, but not now.
He set the bowls on the deck. Both face-licking criminals crunched into their breakfast. PeyPey dug through the crumps to eat the jerky bits first. JuJu munched down everything by the mouthful.
Unlike his dogs, Fawkes got tired of eating rations. Instead, he planned to eat at the Blackstone Inn since he was going into town to see the Brethren.
He finished getting ready for the day and glared at his freshly shaved face in the mirror. Shaving every day was supposed to convince his measly fuzz to turn into proper beard hairs. It was not working yet. Praise be to his goddess, Boki, he had a deep voice.
Huffing out a breath, Fawkes left the cabin and locked the door. He scowled at the new splotches of bird poop staining the deck as he stepped over on his way to the dock. Stepping onto it, he left it up to PeyPey and JuJu to decide which of them would join him. JuJu, the first one done eating, walked over to Fawkes. PeyPey, still taking his time, wagged his tail at them. He was such a homebody.
JuJu, about to jump up, stopped. His ears pricked forward as he looked down the town end of the dock.
Grrrr? The curious growl had Fawkes turning for a look.
Shyri came towards the keelboat carrying an empty basket. She wore a yellow finely-woven dress this time instead of her sneaking about man clothes. It was not a fancy dress but she still looked lovely, and modestly proper as her dress reached the ankles of her laced-up boots. There were no extra under skirts to puff it out as women wore to dances, except for her petticoat, and — Fawkes felt his face heat up and he shifted uncomfortably as another part of him stirred at the thought of her delicate clothes.
"A-hem," he coughed into his sleeve then took a deep breath. Enough of that!
"Hello, Fawkes," she said with a smile but did not offer her cheek. They needed to be careful to not raise suspicions about their ... closeness. Neither of them wanted to get married.
Fawkes arched a brow at her. What was she up to?
"Miss Cragjumper, how lovely to see you."
Her voice dropped to a whisper and he leaned down a bit to listen. "The time is still good for —"
Running footsteps echoed down the dock. Fawkes straightened as both turned to look. It was Thimmy. He ran to Shyri. Fawkes raised a brow to Shyri who rolled her eyes and gave him a slight shake of her head. Whatever she was really up to was going to have to wait for another time.
"I was wondering if you had any more ginger, night pepper, and hot bark?" she asked Fawkes. Spices were, after all, his family business even if the only family left was him.
"This ain't the market, Shyri," Thimmy accused.
Fawkes rolled his eyes but said nothing.
"Mama needs the spices, Thimmy," Shyri scolded him. "And Fawkes has them all."
"I have all three," Fawkes said before Thimmy could say more. "How much do you want?"
"One spat of each, please."
Fawkes quickly measured out the spices into tiny paper sachets using a spat, which looked like a thimble on the end of a long metal handle. He passed the sachets to Shyri then took her coins.
"Do have a good day, Miss Cragjumper."
She settled the sachets just so in her basket.
Fawkes turned and winked at her little brother. "You, too, Thimmy."
The siblings left, with Shyri only able to smile goodbye to Fawkes before Thimmy dragged her away, much to Fawkes' relief.
