Earcalie

Parnard rose to his feet and bowed before Estarfin as he approached us. He looked a little weary to me, though not overly so. We tried to take regular shifts of guard duty, he and I, Yrill and Ceuru and Filignil. Barahirn protested he was also able to take his turn, but we deemed he needed a couple more weeks rebuilding his strength. 

“I was hoping to drag Naergon out of his musings, but I haven’t seen him all day,” Earcalie said. “He has moved here as well. Waiting to make his mind up about sailing. You do remember him?”

I glanced at Hingalas, knowing what was to follow. Although he was merrily helping himself to the food he had selected, his eyes had that gleam of sudden keenness that I recognised. From the edge of my vision I saw Parnard gulp.

(This tale takes place two days before Danel and Parnard leave Numenstaya for Celondim.)

Oh Sea, oh sea,oh endless sea
Da-dum -dilly-dum dilly-dum-dilly-dee
You push and pull and cradle me
In a walnut shell  with mast tall as a tree
Your salty teeth and the stormy rain
Bite slowly my anchor's rust-worn chain
Old sands bury the anchor strong and deep
The tall seas can't yet steal away its keep

All:
No,no,the old anchor holds its keep

Manadhlaer awoke in the dark, in more than one way.

Someone had thoughtfully tucked her diary under her arm. Had she a quill and ink? They must be in her pouch, if she could find it.

With infinite care, she put her feet -- disguised, as she had thought, in mismatched boots, which suited her sloppy grey tunic -- on the floor. She groped around a bit, head pounding; she tried not to move more quickly, lest she vomit again.