Sylvia reined in her horse against its desire to bolt from the strange sensation of the Path. The horse turned in circles, his head drawn down close to his shoulder, and when he finally stopped circling, she released her pull on the rein and gave a soothing pat to his neck. ?Shh, lad, that?s fine. First time through is always hard,? she crooned her voice husky and soft.

Violet eyes looked over her surroundings. The road, some weeks of neglect having given rise to grasses on the path as Spring was taking her hold over the world again. It was later in arriving here than in Seansloe where green had ruled for several weeks. Just as she looked over the changes of the world, the horse flicked ears back and forth and nostrils widened to make its first discovery of the place.

The slightest squeeze of her legs, the length and construction of the dress along with pantaloons allowing her to ride astride, set the horse in motion again, but as she turned for the main road, she went south. Gauging by the light of the sun playing among the bulbous, white clouds, early afternoon was the time and she would arrive at her destination, hopefully, at the right time. She could only base that assumption of what she knew in her own land, and the different currents here would dictate the hours for those who made their trade upon the sea. It was, she accepted, an educated guess at best.

Her children, Miriam, and one small wagon of the few items necessary for this brief visit would follow soon as they roused from their naps, and word sent ahead had spoken of their arrival first. It was, as she had planned, to come to Rhydin without many having knowledge of her arrival. The horse did not know how close its stable, the near empty stable, was for its comfort and recovery from the strange journey, and so turned willingly in the direction she required.

Forest gave way to estates and small farms and soon after dirt road became cobbled lane as the first of Rhydin city rose up and consumed her in its veins of streets and throngs of people. She wound her way past the Inn without a stop. The young horse, barely three years, pranced sideways against the machinery that rumbled on those roads in easy combination with more archaic methods of travel. Sylvia felt his high spirits and she struggled to keep her own anticipation, worry, and confusion from feeding into the horse.

A fast lurch to the side at a particularly loud bang, and Sylvia hunched down and pulled close the reins to keep her seat. That, she decided, was enough of the main roads, and took a longer way down to the docks. At one of the harbor master houses, she inquired to the mooring of Master Hudson Fraiser?s L?ir Mothan. Not only did the elderly sailor tell her of its dock, but also the nearest livery where her horse could be stabled.

The livery proved to be just where it was, and the boy, skinny and dirty, but all smiles, took her horse and started chattering away at the animal as if it were his best friend returned from a long journey. Sylvia tipped the boy a few coppers and patted his shoulder as she noticed some of the dirt on his face was actually a spray of freckles bridging his nose.

Wind free from the blockades of buildings caught up her hair as she took the first steps upon the wooden boards of the docks. A cursory thought, she should have stopped by Yearling Brook to change out of the green linen gown and cr?me chemise to something more appropriate to Rhydin. But, she was there now and arrived at the empty berth of the L?ir Mothan. Others were drawing in their vessels for the catch of the day.

One hand rested upon the low set belt around her hips where her dagger and the pouch of coin and the gift rested. Sylvia did not shield her eyes against the glint of the sun on the waves, but looked out across the wind whipped sea, her hair dancing along the breeze out from behind her, and searched the vessels for the one with her friend.

Among the other vessels making their way on the brisk breeze into the harbor, Sylvia did catch sight of the right ship, and was confirmed so in the arrival of the man and dory at its berth. Instinctively she stepped to help with the mooring lines, but Hudson was quick to the tasks. When he offered his hands, she resisted the urge to give him a greeting hug, and just laughed in the delight of seeing him again, placing her hands in his. ?It is good to see you as well, and I hope you have had a fine catch from your day?s work.?

The touch was warm as she gave a friendly squeeze to his nicked afresh skin and released them. The mutual inspection revealed her color was good. All paleness and weary strife from the recent events was gone. Her hands perhaps had a few more calluses from the recent sword practices, but she was whole. As he assessed her appearance, so did she of him, hoping to find him hale and happiness revealed in his dark eyes.

The growing noise of liveliness, calls cast back and forth, the dock was bursting with the activity of fishermen back with their treasures and those that would buy their bounty. Sylvia gave a nod to his request. ?Of course, caraid, I came by just to see no siren had claimed you to the depths and to give something to you for the blessing of your ship. Tend to the rest of your work. I will be about.? The smile released a light hearted laugh. She reached to give a pat to his arm in reassurance, and turned to walk the lengths of the dock.

At the end of the dock was a bench, and its view out to the ocean unblocked by vessel or mast. She sat and watched the birds come to make their own claim on the scraps and mishaps of fish being transferred from boat to shore. Dangerous, she thought, to sit within the zone of birds flying en masse, but she seemed to have good luck with her, and as she sat, no mishap came to her.

Only difting thoughts, like bubbles on the top of waves, rose and fell in their easy way. She would need to hunt down Lucky as well before she left again, and thought of the many places that might lead her. She could wait to be directed better by Ewan on that account, so that thought floated away to be replaced with her time here and what she would do. The boys would want to sail their boats, she would need to see to the tending of the garden and orchard with others before leaving its care again, and see to the matters still within Yransea?s scope in this land. For all that, she was unhurried in her time and her cares.

Sylvia?s arms went about her to block away some of the breeze, the fingers rested on her collarbone and played with the lamp charm that resided there, the wheel charm upon a bracelet clinked from time to time in its tender contact. The other hand moved up to claim the majority of her hair to keep the wind from casting it into her eyes, then rested upon the shoulder with its catch. Further out she cast her eyes until the distant horizon claimed her vision and imagination.

Sylvia did not hear his approach but sensed someone standing behind her. She glanced a warm smile up to him as her hands gave to tugging the offered coat about her shoulders. "Thank you," she whispered, hoping the wind would not scatter the words from his hearing.

The scent of him and his work was on the air: salt, sweat, ocean, and him. It came over her senses and then carried away as he sat. When he spoke of the sea, the unending horizon, her smile turned whimsical and she nodded in agreement. It was not hard to hear his love of the water, ocean or otherwise, in his voice. She stole a glance to him as he looked out to sea, the calm there in his dark eyes.

Violet eyes moved back to the view, watching fishermen stow away their gear and call another day done though the sun had not yet reached the evening hour of the sky. These were men who started their days early and ran them hard straight through. Meals were waiting at homes with wives and families, pints at pubs with friends, and beds for the too weary. "I am glad it is a welcome surprise. I thought it might be a chance to see your vessel at her calling. She is a fine ship, Hudson."

Reaching into the pouch, she drew out an flat disc of brass, the diameter no greater than the breadth of her palm and its width that of a coin. Upon its surface was detailed two fish in circle around a cloud and in the center the sun. "I wish I could tell you all the symbolic meaning, but the fishermen of Palendies have this upon their vessels to bring them good luck. I do not expect you to carry it upon your ship, but as a token of wishes for you."

Her free hand cupped under one of his, she placed the disc in his palm and then closed her other hand on top. "And perhaps as payment for a debt if your tradition requires." She released his hand and looked back out to sea.

In answer of his question, she spoke, "Until Monday, four days time. I expect Ewan to return within the next couple of days to report." She did not say that was the reason she came back. It would be the truth, but not the entirety of it. The other reasons were too puzzling, and what little she understood of them she was trying to remedy from returning. "After that I will return home. To stay too long is to lose the resolve to leave." Her eyes turned to him, and she gave him a melancholy smile. "It is always hard to leave good friends, and I hope you forgive me for the abrupt departure before. I have come to do a proper job of it this time."

The smile turned a little impish as she leaned towards him, her shoulder giving a nudge, "And maybe understand better your language before I go." She looked out to the ocean again, watching the play of the gulls and seahawks upon the currents. Pairs and groups dancing about each other, and she wondered to the meaning, and if she were not doing the same careful dance, too.