Ian looked back for the last time. The life he had known ended today. But although he had spent all twelve and half years of his short life at his father's farm in the middle of nowhere, he was utterly relieved to part ways with his family. None of his brothers ever saw him any different from an intruder. A changeling, even. His ability to understand animals better than any of them didn't do him any good in this regard either. Animals simply trusted him beyond human-understanding. He sighed. Instead of letting him hone such a useful skill his family grew wary of it and all but his father who had loved him like any other of his sons started to avoid him.

Now that his father was dead and with his mother's disappearance long ago virtually nothing kept him in this place. Quite the opposite actually, he knew due to a conversation he had overheard that staying here would lead to quite unsavoury consequences. His eldest brother had talked about informing the Inquisition if 'Ian did not saw sense on his own and left.'. Ian gritted his teeth such an endeavour would surely lead to him being arrested and maybe even put on a pyre. So much for family-love and even charity. His father's funeral had been the day before. The place of his funeral-pyre still smouldered slightly. Ian knew he should have stayed a little longer to put his father's soul to peace, but he wouldn't risk his own life for the sake of a dead man.

So, he set off in the first light of the new day.

 

Ian had long since known where to head to the moment his father died. He was following the broad river, downstream, towards the sea and the big harbour. Sparrowsbourgh... He had visited the city several times, when he had either accompanied his father to sell their farm's excess or did it by himself later on.

The boy had always liked this kind of work travelling, negotiating, selling and buying. Ian knew, though nobody ever admitted it, that his brothers and father had seen him as their best man doing it. Since his first solo-trip three years ago at the frail age of ten, their income had actually doubled, even though they had had less to sell.

 

This fact led him into believing he could become an asset if someone would take him as a traders-trainee. Well, that could become a problem. Without proper recommendation or at least a father to pay for his first year of apprenticeship, as it was usual, it would be hard enough to have someone taking the risk of taking him in.

 

Him being only able to do maths but unable to write or read more than the most basic stuff didn't help either. Maybe he would really work as a deckhand on some trading-ship and hope for a chance to shine. In this scenario he would at least have a place to stay, a salary and the opportunity to see more of the world. Maybe he should just set for this course of action... not that there was a high demand for scrawny thirteen-year-old deckhand either.

 

The sun was already high up in the sky when Ian reached the city's outskirts. The poorer quarters outside the city-walls reeked of dead fish and poverty. They were infamous for thieves, whores and deceases. Filth and decay where-ever Ian looked. A shudder ran down his spine as he imagined being forced to live here if his plan didn't work. He knew if he ended here the best thing, he could hope for was some brothel allowing him to work for his accommodation. Even though he shuddered at the thought of selling his body. Being involved in street-fights, robbery or drugs shortened one’s life rather reliable. Not knowing how to fight would only lead to an early grave or imprisonment extinguishing any hope of an apprenticeship.

 

He needed money. But even though he would first try his luck at getting what he really wanted, maybe he was lucky. At least once in his life. He was fed up with always drawing the short straw. Trying to cheer himself up he headed towards the harbour district.

As usual this district was filled to the brim with people working, loading and unloading ships, selling goods, shouting, scolding, running around. The noise was ear-splitting. Several huge trade-vessel had been moored alongside the pier.

 

Looking at them Ian was suddenly unsure how to proceed. They were intimidating. After he had stood there for a few moments he finally found the guts to approach the most beautiful of them. It was a slender, yet voluminous cog sporting a beautiful carved maiden as figurehead. A scripture on the planking said it was called Feodora.

 

A middle-aged bulky man seemed to survey the ongoing process of unloading. He had a somehow savage aura around him and didn't seemed to be approachable at all, but Ian had nothing to lose and all to win. The boy approached the grim looking man with what he hoped a neutral and friendly expression. 'Sir? Excuse me please, my name is Ian and I would like to know whether you are offering jobs at the moment. I am relatively skilled as a carpenter and quick in picking things up. Due to working on my father's farm I am used to hard work and also quick in maths as I was in charge of selling our excess.' he stated trying to look more confident than he was.

 

The grim man who had attentively listened to his very words nodded and said 'If you are not shy of hard work, we have indeed a working place for you. You will have to climb the ladder. Starting as a lowly ship's boy. If you proof your worth, we will put you in charge of something. You will have to work hard, but we offer you two hours of education each day. All of our ship-hands are getting that if they want to. Being literate is a good asset for everyone in our captain's opinion. I know it is unusual, but it works alright for us. I am Ron FitzRoy, the Feodora's first mate. Are you okay with the terms offered?' the first mate asked.

 

'Yes, sir. I do agree to the terms stated.' Ian answered

'Good. Report to the captain. His name is Sean McLir. He always wants to check new employees before taking them in. Tell him I send you.' the seaman told him. Ian nodded and made his way to the captain's cabin carefully avoiding to be in someone's way, not an easy task regarding the fact they were still unloading the Feodora.

 

Finally reaching the door he knocked firmly, trying to avoid being either too reluctant or too loud.

A sharp 'Come in.' resounded and Ian opened the door.

The cabin was larger than I had appeared from the outside. It consisted of an official area like some kind of study or library including an oakwood desk and a chart table as well as half-hidden behind a curtain a more private area.

The captain was sitting behind the desk seemingly studying some kind of log either nautical or economical in its nature. His gaze never left the scripture even as Ian entered.

'Sorry to interrupt your studies, Sir. My name is Ian and your first mate Ron FitzRoy told me to report to you, Sir. I am here to ask for work. As a ship's boy.' Ian said.

 

'I see. What are your qualifications? Ron seldom sends anyone in... especially telling them to use his name. Good, Ian. Tell me what you told my grim first mate to do so.' The captain said looking up with a crooked smile looking at Ian over the edge of his glasses.

 

'I didn't know... He was quite approachable when I talked to him.' Ian answered unsure how to react to the captain's claim. ‘I told him I was a passable carpenter and able to pick up things fast. Then I told him that I've been in charge of selling our farms excess and doing the maths for it. And that I have been doing hard farm-work since little.' Ian recalled his first conversation of the day.

 

'I see.' the captain said again with a smile and furthered 'How refreshing to talk to an honest soul. A trait far too rare these days. Your hands tell me you are more than capable as a carpenter. And I think I even saw you sell your goods last year. You were selling apples and sheepskins, weren't you, selling a real good quality far above the market-price, but not skimming the people either. Commendable, I thought at that time. But tell me, son, why does a farmer let a son like you escape from his turf. You're quite an asset as far as I can see...'

 

'My father died a few days ago and my brothers, there are six of them only see me as another mouth to feed, regardless of any deed I might offer.' Ian explained reluctantly trying avoid his brothers' real reason to send him away, in case the captain was as superstitious as his brothers.

 

'But that's clearly not all, are you by chance the seventh son of a seventh son?' the captain asked coming right to the point Ian had tried to leave out.

 

'I am. But even though I am no evil. Nor a changeling.' he replied and lowered his head as if he expected be hit.

 

'Don't fear I won't hit you. I can perfectly see you are not evil, nor a changeling by any chance. If you agree to my pact you will see, that we do not blindly follow the Church’s laws as seemingly anyone does these days.' the captain replied with a hint of compassion in his sea-blue eyes.

 

'Yes, I agree to your offer. Is it really true that I will be taught how to read and write?' the boy asked with hope in his eyes.

 

'Certainly, and so is the possibility to rise up in ranks if you deserve to.' Sean McLir laughed.

'Okay, Ian of unknown ancestry, do you pledge to serve on the Feodora under the following premises? Two hours of school each day, doing any task you are told, in reasonable boundaries, be faithful and loyal to your captain and first mate, given a salary of one silver a month and a bunk as well as clothes and food for free?' he asked holding out his hand.

Ian suddenly felt that this contract was far more binding than anything he had ever heard of, as if he would be bound to it on a spiritual level. Maybe not a deal with the devil, but a Sidhe-pact he had heard about in fairy-tales since little. The captain had even told it a pact. He agreed nonetheless since he was okay with everything stated.

'I agree. Although I don't think this is a normal contract.' he said and smiled at the flabbergasted gaze of the captain.

'You are literally the first to see that immediately. Such a clever boy. If you proof your worth, I will show you things you never even dreamed about.' Sean McLir smiled, revealing a mouth full of white teeth. Ian shrugged and smiled. This was a chance and he had already struck the deal. His fate was sealed.

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