Gentle breezes ruffled Ellspeth's hair as they brought the tang of sea air across the harbor. Her gray eyes turned from the mass of crates and barrels strewn across the Sea Falcon's deck. Her sharp gaze searched the docks yet again for the dockhands she's ordered. The clanks of a stream of wagons pulling up to the gangplank interrupted her frustrated pacing. The wagons were empty when they should have been full of dockhands to unload the ship. Ellspeth's glare froze the lead driver in his seat.

"Oh well," the Falcon's captain sighed. One of the first lessons the sea had taught her was that she could not control everything. "We'll just have to do it ourselves." A pair of hair sticks appeared as if by magic from within the deep pockets of her tunic. Three quick twists and the sticks secured her long silver tresses at the nape of her neck.

"All right men," she called. The authority in her voice brought instant attention from her crew. "Those barrels of wine won't get themselves to the warehouse. Start loading the wagons. A bonus if we get the Falcon unloaded before dinner." Ellspeth pushed her gold captain's bracelets up under her sleeves and joined her crew in rolling barrels down the narrow gangway.

The mid-day sun seared the sweating men. Each trip to the wagons turned the simplest of movements into agony.

Calling a halt, Ellspeth wiped the sweat out of her eyes. Silently she counted the number of barrels still on the ship's deck. "We need more hands," she declared. Desperate to get her cargo of wine undercover before the heat ruined it, Ellspeth searched the bustling docks. A figure caught her attention. Not because he busily unloaded cargo, but instead lounged against a shaded barrel.

His clothes seem of good quality, she thought, although well worn. Maybe he's the younger son of a holder or businessman. Or, she corrected when the man turned, displaying the intricate knots braided into his long black hair, he's a trader from the M'twan mountain region. A few quick steps took her to the man who watched her approach, amusement sparkling in his light brown eyes.

"You look strong. I will pay you 10 silver cesterses. That is double the going rate. Payment when the Sea Falcon is unloaded."

Used to an immediate response from her crew, Ellspeth's fists clenched at the man's insolent stare as he ignored her and took another bite out of his meatroll. His gaze holding hers, he raised his earthen mug in salute.

Several long swallows later, he clanked the empty mug down on the barrelhead. The trader slowly wrapped the remnants of his meal in a small square of white cloth and wiped the foam from his lips with the back of his hand. Slipping the bundle into a pant's pocket, he turned the movement into a courtly bow.

His cool tones were at odds with the smile that never left his eyes. "Lead on. I'll give you an honest day's work for an honest day's wages."

Ellspeth found herself paired with the tall stranger as they worked to unload the ship. There is something different about him. But what, she wondered? The heavy bolts of Nerevian silk seemed much lighter whenever he held the other end. The crew worked swiftly but surely and unloaded the ship before the deadline.

"Good work men," Ellspeth called to her crew. We sail on the first tide on third morn." Waves and laughter accompanied the men as they fanned out in search of amusement. Her eyes searched the jovial crowd for the worker she'd conscripted, but he had disappeared. He'll show up, Ellspeth thought. I've still got his money.

~*~

"Where are those frelling passengers," Ellspeth growled to no one in particular. Planks creaked with each step as she paced across the Falcon's bridge. The pacing stopped as she listened for the sound of wheels that would herald the arrival of her passengers.

"If they don't come soon, we'll sail without them."

At the captain's outburst, the Sea Falcon's first officer quickly suppressed a smile. The Falcon's luxury treatment of guests was well known. And its captain never lost a cargo.

Minutes passed. Both the captain and first officer watched for the arriving fares, and for the telltale ribbons of dark water that marked the changing tide.

The call of "Wagon's ho" echoed down from the crow's nest. The rumble of wagon wheels reached the Sea Falcon's bridge just before two covered carriages wheeled into position at the gangplank.

"Ready on the mains'l. Man the bowlines. Man the stern lines." Ellspeth's rapid-fire orders sent the few crewmen not at their posts, racing into position. "I want to get underway as soon as our passengers board."

On the dock, a tanned arm waved from the lead carriage's window to send the hurrying purser on to the next carriage. In the midst of preparing her ship, Ellspeth caught a glimpse of a head of dark hair above broad shoulders before the man turned to grab a valise from within the carriage. A few balanced steps took the newcomer up the narrow plank to the opening at the ship's rail.

A slender man about 20-turns stepped down from the second carriage. Turning, he extended a hand to help a young woman descend. A twitch moved her long skirts aside as she stepped to the ground. The pair hurried to the ship as if well aware that captains were laws onto their own right, and more than one late passenger had found himself left behind on the docks.

The first arrival shifted the valise to his other shoulder and gave a formal salute to the banner flying from the main mast before addressing a waiting crewman.

"I am Lord Dal. My compliments to the Captain." These are my companions, Lady Jesmin and her consort, Lord Voan." The woman took his extended hand and nimbly stepped onto the deck. Her male companion landed silently beside her.

Slipping the carry-thong from his shoulder, Dal dropped the valise alongside the rail out of the way of the scurrying seamen. "Please see our luggage is stowed in our cabins."

"Yes, m'lord," the mate replied.

"I'll take my companions and leave you to your duties," Dal said by way of dismissal. Then to his two companions added, "The captain won't appreciate us getting in the way of the crew. Voan, those barrels at the stern will be a good place for Jesmin to watch our departure. I don't think she's ever been to sea before."

In response to the unspoken command, Jesmin hiked her skirts and gingerly picked her way across the deck to the indicated spot—her two companions following a step behind.

The Sea Falcon's prow cut through the rolling waves. The freshening wind filled the mainsail until the canvas snapped taut. Standing lightly balanced on the soles of his feet, Dal handled the tilting deck with the instinctive moves of a natural sailor. Looking over at the Sea Falcon's captain standing watch alongside the steering wheel, he observed Ellspeth's complete control of her ship and crew.

Feeling the man's eyes upon her, Ellspeth turned. "Are your companions comfortable?"

"Yes, captain. I'm afraid we won't see much of my companions on the journey." A smile twitched the edge of his lips as he continued, "This is also their matrimonial voyage. They were hand-fastened last week."

"Newlyweds," the Sea Falcon's captain exclaimed with a snort. "At least the Falcon has quiet quarters."

A companionable silence grew around captain and passenger as they watched a pair of sleek-bodied shipfish swimming alongside the Falcon. The fish's tall fins left a fluorescent trail in their wake. The shipfish peeled off with a series of spectacular leaps to break the moment.

Although it wasn't her normal practice to associate with passengers, Ellspeth made a sudden decision. "Would you like to joint me for dinner? I have a bottle of Delusian wine if you'd like a glass. It is not as foxy as the whites they make on the coast." At Dal's hesitance, the Falcon's captain smiled. "Your virtue won't be sullied. We can dine out here on the deck, in full view of the crew. Besides," she continued with a full-throated laugh, " you gave an honest day's work. I owe you an honest day's pay—10 silver cesterses."

Running a hand through his dark curls, Dal wiped the sea mist from his hair. "How did you know?"

"King Frances is a friend. When he booked the passage, he said my passengers would be three wizards—two healers and a fighting mage. The king knew that, unlike some, my crew would make you welcome. A pirate ship has been attacking traders on the route to the Arberdn Archipelago. There've been rumors that a wizard is among them. As a precaution, Frances described your true appearance. I caught a glimpse of your reflection in my captain's bracelets when we unloaded the last barrel. You disappeared before I could investigate."

"I'll have to thank Frances," Dal laughed.

Ellspeth's laughter chimed in. Glasses clinked together. The pair's low conversation continued well into the night.

~*~

Throughout the next several weeks, sharing wine beneath the setting sun became an evening ritual. One afternoon, the gray clouds obscuring the horizon caused the Sea Falcon's captain to summon the wizard. Dal and Ellspeth stood shoulder to shoulder on the small bridge. Crashing waves broke on the Falcon's bow and washed over the deck.

"This isn't normal weather for the Aberdn Sea," Ellspeth shouted. Her voice barely heard above the roaring water.

"No, it's magic," Dal shouted back. "Look over there!" he ordered.

His long arm pointed just off the Falcon's starboard rail. The wheel spun as Ellspeth changed tack to avoid a waterspout; then spun it in the other direction to avoid a second one. Rising columns of water soon surrounded the ship. Confined within the tornado winds, the waves raged higher. A wall of water sped toward the small vessel, the roar of its approach drowning out the crew's cries.

Dal's hands waved an intricate design in the air. "By power of your secret name. I command you part," he shouted. "Shirah!" Blue mage fire streamed from his hands towards the wave. The wave broke in two. Ellspeth's deft control of canvas and rudder allowed the Falcon to slip through the narrow gap. Wind filled the Sea Falcon's sails and sent it racing over the rough seas.

The Falcon slipped into a trough between waves. The sharp movement dropped Dal to one knee. A low moan escaped from between the wizard's clenched teeth. The energy he had expended to save the ship took its toll. His flailing hand grabbed for the bridge's rail.

"Dal," Ellspeth cried. She slipped a hand beneath his shoulder, the other held tight onto the ship's wheel. As if her touch renewed him, Dal pushed himself back to his feet, drawing his sword as he rose.

Light from the blade flew towards the nearest waterspout. Luminous ribbons spiraled upward. Another shouted spell and the waterspout shattered. Cheers rose from the Falcon's crew as the ship broke through the ring of waterspouts into open water.

Beneath her hand, Ellspeth felt Dal's tense muscles just before his shoulder slipped from her grasp. His leather breeches rustled as he collapsed to the deck.

For three days, Voan and Jesmin attended the unconscious man. Their granny herb magic kept his body and soul together. But their powers were not enough to break whatever spell controlled him. Withdrawing in exhaustion, they left the older wizard in the care of the Falcon's captain.

Ellspeth looked down at Dal. The stubble of a beard covered his usually clean-shaven jaw. He's not much over thirty turns, she mused. That's only a turn older than I am. The realization forced her to look at him anew. His features, peaceful in repose, were a sharp contrast to the turbulence of her thoughts.

"Return, Dal. Return to this world," she whispered. Then, laying a hand on his shoulder added, "return to me."

Ellspeth bowed her head. For several moments she prayed to the triple gods worshipped by most of her crew. In the tradition of the M'twan Mountains she continued, "Ancestors preserve your descendent, Dal. Guard him in this world." Her eyes rose from her meditation to meet Dal's.

"You're here. The Falcon ... well?" Dal's voice weakened with each word he spoke.

"Fair winds and following seas," Ellspeth answered, the relief undisguised in her voice. "No sign of a mage or magic."

As if the effort was too much, Dal sank further down against the pillow. The shallow rise and fall of his chest was the only movement for several minutes.

Again Ellspeth bent her head in prayer. This time when she raised her eyes a serene gaze and a wry smile met them.

"I heard the Sea Falcon was a first class transport. I don't see how if you starve your passengers."

"You don't look like skin and bones," she retorted. "But since you're a friend of the king, you can have dinner in bed."

"How long have I been…" his voice trailed off.

"Three days."

"That explains why I'm so hungry." Pushing himself up on an elbow, the wizard sniffed as the reek of sickness rose from the bedding. "I must smell like a weathered mule."

"Not so you'd notice," Ellspeth answered, although her nose also wrinkled at the room's pungent aroma.

"I should be done with my bath by the time the cook can get a meal ready. I'll save breakfast in bed for some other time," he said with a slight grin. "Tonight m'lady, I'd prefer your company for dinner." After a moment's pause he added, "on the deck of course."

Ellspeth stopped herself from casting yet another worried look towards the closed hatchway. To distract herself, she fiddled with the linen tablecloth and the silver utensils set out upon it. I should have sent Jon down to help him, she thought. Her cabin boy had become quite experienced as a manservant to the Sea Falcon's lofty passengers. But she ruthlessly quashed the thought almost as it appeared. She knew Dal was not the kind of man to submit to pampering and assistance. In fact, she wondered if the wizard had ever accepted assistance of any kind.

The focus of Ellspeth's thoughts appeared at that instant. Dal's not-quite complete recovery evident in the slow, careful movements he took across the deck to the impromptu dining area.

The cabin boy appeared at Dal's elbow. Enticing aromas wafted from the covered tray he carried. Dal and Ellspeth ate in silence, accompanied only by the sound of water rushing beneath the Falcon's hull. By the time a rich soup and a spiced fish roll disappeared, the sun had sunk to the horizon. With a wave of Dal's hand a small ball of mage light appeared over the table. The blue glow spread to form a barrier behind which nothing existed except the captain and the wizard.

Dal's low tones broke into Ellspeth's reverie. "Captain Ellspeth, I owe you a debt. You summoned me back from the void. That is a debt that cannot be repaid."

Ellspeth chose her words carefully. Debts to wizards had been known to have steep consequences. "You owe no debt, Lord Dal. The Sea Falcon would have been lost without your help." Taking a breath, Ellspeth gave the formal response. "It is I who owe you."

The wizard's eye's sparkled with amusement. "Then, my fair captain, let's call it even. But I have a question. Why did you not pursue the Way?"

Ellspeth felt her pulse race. She looked away from Dal's unflinching stare. "Only mages study the Way," she answered with more force than she intended. "I come from a family of traders and captains. From the first time my grandma took me to sea I knew I belonged there. The happiest day of my life was when the guild awarded me these captain's bracelets." Under the wizard's scrutiny, she continued in a voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not a mage."

"You could be a wizard," Dal persisted. "It was your magic combined with mine that saved the Falcon." He paused a moment, before adding. "Your magic brought me back."

The wizard's words haunted Ellspeth. Could he be right? She ruthlessly answered her own doubts. "I'm Ellspeth of the Clan Czabo, daughter of Mirim, granddaughter of Rima. I am captain of the Sea Falcon. I am not a mage!"

For the next two sevenday Ellspeth fought an internal conflict—love of the sea warred with love of a man. And there was always the question—Was Dal right? Was she a mage?

The strong southern current put the Falcon at the main beach of Aberdn's largest island two days ahead of schedule. A neat pile of barrels and crates sat in the shade on the shore. Voan and Jesmin had departed the night before to take up residence in the huts prepared for them in the village. Ellspeth looked around her ship. There was just one piece of unfinished business.

The rope ladder thumbed against the side of the Sea Falcon with each gentle wave. Ellspeth's pulse beat in silent rhythm with each sound. A soft creak gave her a second's warning before Dal's hand fell on her shoulder.

"My thanks for a smooth journey, Captain Ellspeth. King Frances chose well when he picked you and the Falcon."

"The pleasure was all mine, Lord Dal."

A smile tweaked the wizard's lips to match the laughter in his eyes. A wooden box appeared as if by magic in his hand.

"I picked this up at a silversmith's shop in Daragain. I've been waiting for the right person to gift it to."

Dal twitched his fingers and the box disappeared. Ellspeth gasped as it appeared in her open palm. The lambent energy trapped within the box sent a tremble up her arms.

"It's magic," she whispered.

Dal's broad smile confirmed what she felt.

"I'm not a mage," she objected. "I am Captain of the Sea Falcon."

"Elle, it's meant for you. Open it and you will see."

Unable to fight the entreaty in the wizard's voice, she obeyed. The lid opened to reveal a silver cloak broach in the shape of a Falcon. Emerald stones sparkled from its eyes. Gold bands encircled the bird's neck and legs.

"It’s got captain's bracelets," Ellspeth exclaimed in delight.

"Now you see why I said it was meant for you."

Ellspeth watched Dal pin the broach to her tunic.

"Until our next meeting, m'lady." Before she could move, the wizard swung his leg over the rail and climbed down to the waiting dory.

Newly discovered emotions fought within Ellspeth's slender frame. An almost tangible longing shadowed her gray eyes as she watched the boat bearing Dal glide toward the sandy shore. "Until four sevenday," she whispered

The dark blue telltale ribbons of the outgoing tide wrenched her attention back to the ship. Concern for the Falcon, her Falcon, took over.

"All hands to your stations. Hoist the mains'l."

Even as she snapped out the orders to get the Falcon underway, the vision of dark hair over a stubbled chin remained vivid in Ellspeth's mind. She touched her shoulder where she felt the silver broach pulse with the magical potential stored within it.

"I'm Ellspeth of the Clan Czabo, daughter of Mirim, granddaughter of Rima. I am captain of the Sea Falcon." Then she called to the winds: "I am a mage!"