Dante: Ten II

"And your answer, of course, would be yes. Caine would tip into the campaign fountain, if he didn't think he'd catch holy hell from the rest of us for the rest of his days." Gerard left the bar and bellowed up the stairs at the back. "Kee! Keenan! We have a guest. Get down here!"

Martha went back to tapping at her inventory, though half her attention stayed on Dante. "Oh, don't be so hard about that little incident. It was adorable!" Seeing the look on his face, she quickly ammended, "And you are quite grown since then."

Dante craned his head as Gerard yelled, hoping to catch a glimpse of his potential playmate. The stairs staid empty for the duration of his patience, and his foot lifted to begin tapping when a compliment interrupted.

With a smile he responded, "my tutors say that I'm gifted, too."

A guest? Keenan perked up and set down his little toy ship, which he had been carefully turning into a pirate ship, because pirates were more fun than regular sailors any day.

"Coming!" he called, and straightened out his rumpled clothes as best he could. Mum wouldn't be happy if he showed up to see an important guest all smudgy and wrinkled. He skipped down the stairs, jumping down the last three and landing with a thud. His mum told him not to do that several times a day, and several times a day he forgot. He liked the sensation of almost flying.

It better not be someone boring, he thought as he went into the main room. "Who is it, Dad?" he asked, looking around.

Dante watched Keenan jump, growing excited with each leap and peaking around Gerard as he did so and bouncing slightly.

Keenan's eyes widened when he saw the face of another child peering around his father. He didn't say anything just yet, although he had to bite the inside of his lip not to. Instead, he waited politely to be introduced, as he had been taught. He didn't think it would be a good idea to break the rules with his mum standing right there.

"Kee, come here." Gerard slapped the bar next to Dante, and even though it was meant as a good natured gesture it was loud enough to make Dante jump. "Come meet your cousin. This is Caine's kid, Dante. He's got a birthday today."

"Really?" Keenan perked up even more. "Happy birthday! My birthday isn't for about forever." He danced from one foot to the other. "Hey Mum, are you going to make a cake? It's his birthday!" He winked at Dante, and whispered loudly, "She makes the best cakes. But only for special occasions."

"Your mom cooks?" Dante's voice was filled with awe, "can we watch? How long does it take?" His eyes had the distant glaze that only the perpetually hungry get when thinking of food in the near future.

"I don't know if we can watch. I don't even know if she'll make one. But sometimes she lets me help stir the batter, and make the frosting. And then you get to lick the spoon!" Only a child could see the magic in that prospect. "But I think it takes a looooong time. So maybe if you're going to stay here for a while we can play while she's working on it, 'til it's time for the frosting."

"You have any games, or toys?"

"I've got toy ships up in my room," Keenan said. "I'm turning them into pirate ships. Wanna see?"

"Yeah!" and with that Dante bolted upstairs, only pausing to make sure Keenan was leading at the top of the stairs.

Keenan trailed behind him up the stairs, and ducked past him at the top, leading him down a short hallway. He pushed open the door of the room at the end and gestured around. "This is my room," he said.

It was fairly simply done, with a plain wood bed, wardrobe, nightstand and shelves. Everything was good quality, but plain. His bedspread was a brightly colored quilt. The shelves were full of books and toys, and a small table in the corner was covered in model boats and little toy sailors. He had recently been turning the little ships into pirate ships, and the little sailors into pirates. The ships were accurate models, but sturdy enough to withstand a child's play.

"This is the pirate captain's ship," Keenan said, holding out the largest one proudly. "See? And this is the pirate captain." He plucked a toy sailor from its deck to display him. "I've still got some ships that aren't pirate yet. So they can fight. The pirates always win." He grinned.

Dante looked over the ships, appreciating their detail for all of 5 seconds. "'kay!" and he took charge of the largest non-piratical ship, tearing into the roll with zeal. "Blam! Sploosh!"

Panic flickered over Keenan's face for just a second, until he had reassured himself that Dante wasn't going to hurt his toys. Then he joined the game, attacking Dante's fleet with the pirate ships, stealing their treasures and taking hostages.

"Play nice up there!" came a call from below, Keena's mother. She then said something to Gerard, something too soft to hear, though Dante could pick out his father's name.

Dante grinned, as if you weren't playing right if you weren't loud. A small amount of curiousity arose in him at the mention of his father, but he didn't get enough playmates to squander the time snooping about. He was markedly quiet for a few minutes, but then his voice rose with his excitement as he jumped from ship to ship to position them and bark orders to his men.

After a little while Keenan grew bored. He set his ship down and peered at Dante curiously. "Did you get anything good for your birthday?" he asked. "How did you get here? Shouldn't you be at home? Aren't you going to have a party?"

Dante stopped and deeply inspected a sailor. "No. Mom's working." His voice was decidedly downcast.

"Oh." Keenan frowned. "Well then, we'll have a party here. I'll make Mum make your favorite foods, and a cake, and we'll have fun!" He sprang up from his seat and reached for Dante's hand. "Come on. We'll go tell her."

"Really?!" Dante lept up and followed Keenan, dropping the sailor onto the deck of a schooner.

Keenan winced and resisted the urge to make sure that no damage had been done to the sailor or the ship before leading Dante back down the stairs. "Mum, Mum!" he called. "Dante's mother is working today, and he won't get a party unless we have one for him. And you can't have a birthday without a party! So you've got to make a cake, and other food he likes, because otherwise he'll be sad on his birthday, and you don't want that, do you? No one should be sad on their birthday, should they?" Keenan stuck out his lower lip and batted his eyelashes at his mother.

Dante stood in the background and supported his playmate, nodding at the right times and trying to look sad.

Martha looked up from the collection of oddities in front of her and studied the two of them. Flour, eggs, sugar, some shortening, powdered sugar... "No... We wouldn't want that, would we? What do you like, Dante?"

Dante's mind was fumbling with the concept of 'anything, and it took him a moment. "Pot roast? With carrots, potatoes, and lots of gravy? Please, ma'am?"

Keenan made a face. He could have anything he wanted, and he chose pot roast? But it was his birthday, so he got to choose...

Martha squinted at a clock over her head and nodded. "Pot Roast. I can do that, if you can hold off until eight to eat. And you boys can keep out of trouble."

Behind them, Keenan heard the tingle of bells that signified someone coming into the bar. Gerard hailed whoever it was, and she replied with a tired, "I need a drink..." Vinta.

Dante looked over his shoulder, and then to Keenan. "What's there to do around here?"

Keenan shrugged. "Well, usually I don't have anyone to play with. I read a lot, and I do my studies. I go on errands for my mother. I build model ships and other things, and I play with them sometimes. I go for walks sometimes, when they'll let me... and I help around the tavern. Lots of times I just sit in the common room and listen to people. Because the sailors have really interesting stories." He smiled and shrugged again. "But I'm not really used to, uh, entertaining other people."

"I'm only used to the official way... ask them what they want to do, and then do something you planned on doing anyway." Dante shrugged. "I usually go out back and climb something... they won't let you go for walks whenever you like?"

Keenan shrugged. "It depends where I go. If I stay close to the tavern, it's all right. But I can't go too far, because I tend to get in trouble." He made a face.

"On my tenth birthday, I'm supposed to be allowed to go anywhere I want, even through shadow." Dante was bragging, clearly, but he couldn't help himself. "Seems that living in a city is a not very fun. Can you go outside just to play? a game?"

"Even through shadow?" Keenan's eyes went almost impossibly wide. "But how? You can go through shadow unless you've walked the Pattern... can you?"

"You can't go just anywhere without Pattern, but there are paths that almost anyone can use. Some people do it by accident... that's what my mom says."

"Oh." Keenan seemed satisfied with this. "Yes, I can go outside to play a game if I want. But there's really no one to play games with around here, so I don't know that many." He perked up. "Do you know how to play tin kick?"

Dante shook his head, smiling, "no! Teach me!"

"Okay!" Keenan went into the kitchen and got an old tin from the garbage. He took it outside and began to point to various points in the yard. "If you hit those things, you get a point. But if you... hmm..." He considered, then went and found a stick. He used it to carve out a boundary for the playing field. "If you go outside that line, you lose all your points. Okay?"

"Okay." Dante set himself to begin, "who goes first?"

"You stand there," Keenan said, placing Dante approximately in the center of the yard, "and I'll stand here," he stood across from him, "and I'll drop the tin, and we'll both try to kick it. And then we just keep kicking it 'til someone scores. Okay?"

"Okay." Dante waited for the can to drop, but not for it to hit the ground, before he began, and he played to win... with little concern for his playmate.

Keenan was far too conscientious to stand a chance against Dante. He didn't like hurting people, and he didn't like getting hurt, so he learned very quickly that it was safer to let Dante get the tin in the kick off, and then steal it from him later, when he'd kicked it a bit too far, and Keenan could dash over and get it quickly. When that failed, he just let Dante score. It was easier, and saved him a lot of bruises.

Dante kicked out once again, "this is a fun game!" Then he stopped. "Maybe you could come over to my place sometime, and we could play around the house. I have lots of toys and games, but usually it's just me and my mom."

He gave the can a solid kick, a sure point against the streat light, when a black booted foot caught it, tucked a toe under her, then flipped it up into a leather gloved hand... Dante looked up, and saw the owner of the hand was none other than Caine.

Keenan stopped dead in his tracks, nearly falling at the abruptness of it, and stared up at Caine in awe.

Keenan's awe was Dante's worship. He all but fell upon his knees. and he found himself just as dumbstruck.

Caine studied the can, turning it over in his gloved hands for several seconds before letting it drop.

"Dante," he said by way of greeting.

"Sir. Th-this is Keenan, son of Gerard and Marta." Dante gestured at his new friend.

Keenan gave an abrupt and awkward bow. "Who are you?" he asked. "Are you my Uncle Caine?"

"You've named me." Caine gives Keenan a nod, then goes back to studying his son.

"Your mother tells me you're anxious for your own skiff?"

"Yes, sir." Dante gulped afterward and began holding his breath in anticipation.

"I don't suppose you're too busy to take a walk to the harbor..." Caine batted at the can with his foot, sending it skittering to a lamp post.

Keenan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, feeling awkward, like he was intruding on a private moment. "I'm gonna go check on the cake!" he said, and retreated into the tavern quickly.

"He...ck, no, sir!" Dante watched his friend retreat for a moment, "I'm all yours!"

"Hold," he said. It wasn't a shout, but the way his voice carried, it hit Keenan like one. "You come as well. I believe the cake is doing well."

Keenan stopped and turned around, looking ever so slightly nervous. "Oh. Uh, all right... sir. Uncle Caine." He returned to Dante's side.

Dante risked a smile and wink to Keenan.

Caine wasn't much for talking as they made their way down the few blocks to the harbour. He lead them away from the dry docks, where massive skeletons of ships were being erected, and trailed down to the more sheltered cove for smaller vessels.

Dante followed loyally, trying not to smile too much.

Keenan trailed behind Dante, kicking a pebble and wondering why he'd been told to come along. It didn't make sense. He had only just met Dante... and he'd never met his uncle before. He supposed that Caine must just want to show off what he had gotten for his son for his birthday.

They passed a number of obviously owned skiffs and dinghys, with fishermen and sometimes a young boy working at the wood and metal fixings. They looked up now and then, and sighting the Prince, would look immediately back down to their work, as though those ropes were the most fascinating thing they had come across in years.

They came up to a small sailboat, the kind some of the better of boys in Kashfa often used to skirt around the shore. It was only big enough for manybe four, but they went wicked fast once you learned the riggings and the righ angles for the sails. The wood was golden, the kind Vinta sometimes imported from Begma for it's shine, and the trimmings were in white and a deep, almost black blue. Caine leaned against a pier support, saying nothing.

Dante looked at the boat with the awe and joy that only a child can summon. He wandered the ship in a dream, distantly saying a few words to Keenan about the coolness of it. Then he woke, pulling himself closer to Caine. "Thank you, sir. I shall keep good care of her."

Keenan shuffled his feet and smiled at Dante. The boat was very nice, and looked like it would be a lot of fun. He doubted that his parents would ever let him on it, though. Too dangerous, they would say. He would probably have to sneak away...

Caine nodded, pulling a card out of his vest. "One might consider naming her at some point," he said as he began to concentrate.

"'Daunting' has a good ring to it." He looked over at Keenan, as if for approval, before turning back to his father.

Keenan giggled. "Name it that, and everyone will think you're afraid of your own boat!" he said.

"Perhaps," said Caine, "Or perhaps it will be a warning to others to fear it..." He did not look up from the card as he began to fade. "Happy Birthday, Dante..." And with that, he was gone in a rainbow shimmer.

Dante sighed, figuring it would be like that. His shoulders drooped for just a moment, before looking over his shoulder at the boat. At HIS boat. 4 people. "You want to go for a ride?"

"Sure!" Keenan said, grinning at Dante. It didn't occur to him for a minute to ask, "Do you know how to sail it?"

"We're not going far," he said, making sure Kee was on the boat before unmooring it and leaping onto the deck. "I just want a feel for it. Can you trim that sail a little?" Dante was already beginning to steer the boat, missing another docked one by... was that a scratch? It was hard to tell in this light, but no impact was felt.

"Can I, er... can I what?" Keenan asked. He looked at the sails somewhat bewilderedly.

"Trim? You know... umm... that thing, with the sails? People are always doing it." Dante scratched his head. "You live in a bar for sailors, and you don't know anything about sailing?"

"Do you know how to swim?"

Keenan looked at Dante, indignant, and went over to the sail to attempt what to trim it. "I do so know about sailing!" he said. "My dad's a sailor, after all! I just don't know anything about something this small! I know about trimming really big sails... lots of men have to do it. Really big men, with really big muscles. Sometimes when Dad's not looking they lift me up and use me like a weight." He grinned. "And they let me climb the rigging, too. Mum says I'll be the death of her, swinging around on ropes like a monkey like that." He jutted out his chin proudly. "And I can swim, too! Dad says I could swim before I could even properly walk, because I'm a sailor's son!"

"Alright. I'm the son of a sailor, too. I've read up on this kind of thing in my spare time. I'll tell you how, and you trim the sail. I'll help do it."

With Dante's help, Keenan made the necessary adjustments to the sail.

"I'm guessing that there is enough knowledge between the two of us to work this out. We'll be okay. Do you want to do this every week?"

"Sure!" Keenan said, grinning broadly. "We can go everywhere! Even all the place that my dad and mum tell me I'm not allowed." He bounced happily from foot to foot. "Well, at least all the places that we can get to by water!"

[And the GM forsees a trip to that house with the illdressed ladies that makes Martha sputter... They have a dock, you know...]

[Dante would never do such a thing... sort of.]

"You bet!" Dante adjusted some rigging, fumbling just a bit before getting it right. "We can even explore some of the trade routes. They keep maps of those somewhere, right? We can get 'em and go places we can barely imagine! This is going to be total fun!"

Keenan grinned at him. "So where are we going, anyway?"

"Tonight?" Suddenly Dante was stern, "cruise the harbor and get a feel for her." A grin played on his lips as he spoke again, "but next weekend... Captain, and crew's, pleasure."

"I'll make sure to think of somewhere really good to go!" Keenan said.

"I hear there's a fair that opens on the water front once a year not far from here. That's a thought." Dante leaned against the rail for a moment as he considered his next move with the boat. No. Not boat. For all it's lack of size, he felt the Daunting qualified as a ship. "We should stow some spare clothes here, and some other things. You think you can get stuff, or do you want me to get something for you?"

As they pulled out of the docks and flowed with the current around Amber, Keenan could make out a familiar house... or at least the back of it. It was a red brick structure, shutters a dusty blue trimmed in white. The roof was a reddish slate, the only house in town topped like that. It was the house that always made Martha curse under her breath and quicken her pace, and it was the one that seemed to be buzzing at all hours. And now, he learned something new about it... It had a low back porch that was more like a dock than anything else, and there were several ships tied up to it, unmanned.

Dante saw the look. "I know what you're thinking, and we are not stealing a ship. Good eye, though."

Keenan looked offended. "I wasn't thinking of stealing a ship!" he said. "Stealing is WRONG!" He pouted at Dante for a second, then brightened again. "But that house, my mum says I can't go there... she always says something about the ladies who live there being 'easy.' And I don't know what she means. But they always smile at me, and they wear bright clothes and their faces are all bright and pretty. We could sneak in that way, maybe. Next time we're out." He looked at Dante hopefully.

Dante thought for just a moment. He'd heard a little about women. "Hey, sure. Should be educational. We'll try and look like we belong, coupla outfits. They look like they get all sorts in there, but we don't want to be recognized... in case your mom finds out and gets mad."

"She won't find out," Keenan said confidently. "She won't go near that house, or the ladies in it."

"Hey, another turn and we'll need to get ready to dock!" Dante moved into position with ease he didn't have previously. "This has been pretty fun. And next week... ought to be pretty good. I wonder if dinner is waiting for us."

"I don't know," Keenan said. "I hope it is, I'm starving!" He helped Dante to adjust the sails and guide them back into the harbor, and to tie up the boat. "Come on!" he urged him, once the Daunting was secured.

Dante leapt after Keenan with all the grace the 10 year old could muster. He then picked himself off the dock planks, finished tying up the boat, and chasing after the younger boy.

Keenan raced through the streets back to Martha's, and headed immediately for the kitchen to check on the progress of the cake... which was far more important to him than dinner.

Dante, who was right behind him, was interested in everything going on in the kitchen. He inhaled deeply as he entered.

Martha was bent over the stove, peering in, her mouth pursed in a knot that she always got when cooking. The smell was heavenly, sweet and heavy, almost filling with a breath of it. Vinta was at the cutting counter, lazing back on a stool, a healthy gobblet of red turning in her hand.

Martha shut the oven door. "I hope that's enough for them."

"Pah. Probably." Vinta rolled her eyes. "Caine's probably already gone... That's what he does. Runs in long enough to play the white knight, then he's off, fighting and whoring in--" She broke off as the sound of feet signalled Keenan and Dante coming into the kitchen. She tried to put on a bright smile.

"Oh, you're back! We thought we'd have to send out the dogs for you!"

"I own a ship! We took it around the harbor and Keenan and I want to go out every weekend on it!"

The enthusiasm Dante showed was played for one person alone... his mother.

Vinta gives him a stiff smile over her glass, then sucks down another guaff. "I'm glad you like it, hon."

"Can I go sailing with Dante again, Mum?" Keenan asked, grabbing onto his mother's apron and pressing himself against her side. "Please? It was so much fun, and I'm a good sailor, too! I didn't get one bit seasick!" He looked imploringly up at his mother.

His excitement waned, but he turned to Keenan's mom with a smile, waiting news of sailing, and dinner.

"If he's careful," said Martha, checking on something else in the oven. "And you do what he says."

"He's good," sighed Vinta over the edge of her glass. "Even Caine says so. Just like his father..."

Keenan cheered and hugged his mother again. "How soon before dinner is ready?" he asked. "I'm hungry!"

Dante glanced at his mother, but only at the mention of Caine. His attention seemed fixed mostly on dinner.

Martha caught the quick look as she peeked over her shoulder. but said nothing, instead drawing out the covered pan of meat and vegetables. "You'll have to start learning to take snacks with you when you're out sailing, Kee. Can't have you waisting away and letting the wind snatch you up." She gave her son and the barren dining table next to him a meaningful look. "Keenan? Forks? Knives? Plates?"

"Oh!" Keenan went to gather the things to set the table with a great deal of haste and very little grace. He managed to get through it only dropping a fork or two. He dusted them off on his shirt while no one was looking and set them on the table, doing his best to look innocent. "Is Dad still here?" he asked. "Should I set a place for him?"

Dante watched Keenan with interest, and then moved to help him when the task was almost done. He did manage to avoid sitting with flatware that had fallen.

Martha set the pan in the center of Keenan's sometimes haphazard place settings. "Kee, your father had to go back to the docks. He'll be by for cake, though." She rolled her eyes. "Dante-- grace?"

Keenan put away the extra plate, cup, and silverware and sat down. He wished that his father was there... but then he always wished that his father was there. He wished that they could all live together... preferably somewhere where there were other children.

For a moment Dante was stunned. Sure, he'd heard people say a prayer over meals, but no one had ever suggested that he do it. He shrugged a little, "sure." He then went on in the manner he had heard others, thanking the Unicorn for various things and asking blessings over the food and friends gathered.

"Amen," said Martha, a touch dubious. "That's an original thanks..." She glanced at Vinta, who was turning all sorts of embarrassing colors as she unfolded her napkin.

"With Caine being out all the time, and the winery being so busy... we don't practice."

Keenan simply dug into the food. He was of the opinion that grace was just something that his mother had invented to test his patience, and whether or not he could get through it without trying to sneak a bite of food.

He said nothing to Martha. Instead, he scrutinized his meal.

Dante poked at the pot roast for a moment, cutting it and testing the flavor. He eventually decided that it was acceptable, and his knife flew through the meat. Bite size chunks disappeared. Potatoes, carrots... vanished.