Fin sat in the ship's galley atop one of the water barrels, quill in hand, as two burly Troivackian soldiers watched him from under their bushy black eyebrows. A pleasant sea breeze rolled in from the open porthole, but despite this, the redhead found himself sweating profusely in the small space.

‘How the hell can I warn the King that the attack will be at the end of this week… I don’t even know where it will happen…’ Fin had pondered what he would write that could pass his father’s presumed inspection the entire morning.

With a long sigh, the redhead pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes wearily.

“We’ve got other jobs to do,” the Troivackian on the left grumbled, though he quickly earned a sharp glare from his comrade.

“Ah, right. Sorry. Just… Not sure what to write.” Fin gave a partial smile in apology, which made both the Troivackian soldiers take a step back with eyebrows raised.

“Er… did I do something?” the redhead asked while raising his eyebrow.

The Troivackian on the right cleared his throat before he stepped forward, his eyes screwed to the food storage behind Fin.

“You look like Mr. Helmer, but talk like a Daxarian.”

The witch blinked. “I want to say thank you?”

Both the men shifted awkwardly, making Fin grin. “Is it that you’re not used to people apologizing? Or saying thanks?”

Both the men cleared their throats again and nodded.

“Ah. Well… if it helps, I’m considered rude by a good amount of people! So I’m not the worst of the-”

“We don’t need to hear about… about the enemy.” The man on the right managed to say, his discomfort obvious.

Fin straightened and folded his arms, as he gazed more directly at his two guards.

“What’re your names?”

“You don’t need to know,” the man on the right declared

“Of course I don’t need to know, I want to know. It’s more respectful; wouldn’t you say?”

Both men looked as though they had mosquitoes biting their faces that they couldn’t swat away. Their distresst only continued to grow.

“Otherwise I’m just going to give you names and you might not like them. For example, I could call you,” Fin pointed to the man on the left. “Stanley, and you…” Fin gazed at the man on the right who was already cringing. “Bruce.”

The witch grinned up at them, waiting for them to crack their stoic silence as the duo kept their gazes fixed behind the redhead. Fin studied the men closely, the one he had bequeathed the name Stanley, was slightly shorter than Bruce, his nose wide and flat, though his arms were thicker. Bruce was taller by a couple inches, but his eyes were keener somehow. There was a glint of intelligence that Fin found interesting…

“Well, I suppose I better get back to this letter… Tell me, if you had to write a letter that your King would be reading- but also most likely your mother, what would you write?”

Stanley and Bruce stood shoulder to shoulder in silence.

“Hmm… Guess I’ll tell them about my new friends Stanley and Bruce.”

Both the Troivackian soldiers had their hands gripped into fists.

“Don’t worry I won’t say anything bad… I’ll read it outloud to you when I’m done.”

Setting his forearms on the table, Fin had an idea of how he could try and warn everyone back home… While at the same time making the men around him less likely to report anything strange... and perhaps just have a teensy bit of fun...

*

Norman frowned at the letter the falcon had delivered by mid-afternoon of the second day of Fin’s absence. The council watched with bated breaths, each man glancing to each other worriedly.

“I… I can tell he is trying to communicate something.” The King finally said with a frown on his face as he set the parchment on the table in front of himself.

“Your majesty, might I read the missive aloud to everyone present?” Mr. Howard extended his hand to the King with a small bow.

With a short nod, Norman handed over the parchment and leaned back in his chair.

Clearing his throat, the assistant addressed the council.

‘Your Majesty, King Norman Reyes,

Despite the storm of the first night, the ship remains afloat and has set a Northwest course.

Even though it has only been a day, I find myself already looking forward to the lively celebration promised to me upon my return at the end of the week, as thanks for boarding the ship. I know my aides had intended it to be a surprise, but you know how devastatingly poor they are at keeping secrets.

I have made two new friends while aboard the vessel; Stanley and Bruce. They don’t like to talk much, but given some time I’m sure we will form a special relationship. Though I’m sure in another day or two, I will be as close with them as I have been with Baron Gauva’s nephew.

Give my mother my love, and let her know I am fine.

I pray to the Goddess for your safety and well-being, Your Highness.

Finlay Ashowan’

Everyone was frowning.

“A celebration? Sire, you promised him a celebration upon his return?” Mr. Howard looked up at the King, completely incensed. “You’ve already given him a title and a wedding! Why in the world would-”

“He’s warning us,” Captain Antonio spoke up suddenly, as his stomach began to sink. “If I am not mistaken, I believe the ‘celebration’, is the attack. He is stating it is to be at the end of the week.”

Norman straightened in his chair. “Why would you presume so, Captain?”

“Well, we didn’t promise a celebration, and a ‘lively celebration’ suggests it is going to be… quite noisy. He also made mention that it was supposed to be a secret...”

The King let out a sigh. “It isn’t much to go off of, but then again I suspect his letters are being read before being sent out. We can ask the aides if any such party was planned before making a final decision.”

“There is another time frame in the letter, however,” Lord Fuks pointed out suddenly.

All eyes turned to the Earl.

“He mentions his two ‘new friends’, and says how close they will be in two days… as close as Baron Gauva’s nephew,” Lord Fuks reminded with a serious nod towards the letter.

“The young man who insisted he will get revenge on Finlay after he failed to abduct both him and Katelyn? When the Queen had just given birth?” the King asked as realization began to creep along his face.

“Yes.”

Silence stretched on.

“Finlay might be saying he will not be safe in a couple of days… but that doesn’t make sense. They intend to attack by the end of the week,” mage Lee remarked thoughtfully.

“It could be that Aidan is trying to get information out of him before then,” Mr. Howard supplied. “Though, how would Helmer intend to continue to send letters if Fin is unable to?”

“Well, is it even possible for us to intervene if he doesn’t? They are a day and a half ahead on their journey,” the Captain pointed out grimly.

Norman didn’t say anything as he pondered this new dilemma.

“We will wait and see what tomorrow’s letter says before making any final decisions.”

“Sire, that might be too late. We may not be able to get to the Viscount in time for-” Mr. Howard began before the King turned and silenced him with an oddly calm stare.

“We need to act cautiously on all fronts. We don’t want to barge in if there is a chance that Fin could garner more information. We can start preparing the soldiers and Knights for the end of the week, but I want it done quietly.” Norman addressed Captain Antonio who, for a brief moment, clenched his teeth as though stopping himself from disagreeing.

“Very well, your majesty.” The military man bowed his head in compliance.

While no one outwardly said anything, the council men couldn’t help but feel uneasy at their ruler’s decision to hold off on intervening on behalf of their beloved cook.

“Ah, and one more thing. I don’t want anyone breathing a word of this to Lady Ashowan, or Katelyn,” Norman announced seriously, his hazel eyes piercing each man present.

Every one of the council members stiffened.

“Both of them will try to interfere if they discover what we know. This is for not only their safety, but Fin’s as well.”

After a moment of tense silence, each council member bobbed their head in agreement, though all of them were beginning to feel a growing knot in their stomachs as the day moved forward.

*

Fin stared at the meager food offerings aboard the ship before letting out a long sigh.

Fish of course, as well as salted meats, potatoes, cheese, and cabbage.

He considered himself lucky that there was salt and pepper aboard, and even some lard with how few the dining options were. He suspected there was more than he was discovering hidden around, but had yet to uncover anything else…

Picking up one of the spuds, he speculated on making a potato pancake for the men, but acquiesced he’d need a flame… The ship's brick oven needed a thorough cleaning, and hours before dinner was not the best time to start such a task.

Turning around with his hands on his hips, while picking up a nearby cast iron pot, Fin faced Stanley and Bruce, who subconsciously straightened their postures under the redhead's gaze.

Without a word, Fin brandished the pot into Stanley’s hands, then picked up another and handed it to Bruce. After that, he hefted the bag of potatoes over his good shoulder, then onto Stanley’s shoulder, before bending down and hoisting up the small barrel of clean water in his arms.

“We need to go above deck.” Fin instructed the two men who were completely clueless as to what he was doing.

“Why are we doing that? You’re supposed to be sorting out the food,” Bruce demanded, though despite it being obvious that he was trying to be intimidating, there was more than a little uncertainty in the man’s eyes.

“I am going to ‘sort out the food.’” Fin strode towards the door purposefully with the water barrel in his hands.

The two Troivackian men in charge of guarding him shared a brief look of confusion before scurrying after him.

“Mr. Helmer, you should be staying below deck,” Bruce called out as the redhead proceeded to breeze past some of the soldiers below deck in the midst of card games. When he got to the ladder, Fin hoisted the barrel over his unburnt shoulder, and continued on as though he had been clambering up and out of ships his entire life.

“No one will be complaining once it’s dinner time,” the witch eventually replied as he breathed in the fresh sea breeze as the ship creaked around him.

Scanning the deck, the Fin’s gaze finally rested on the figure he was looking for.

Aidan Helmer stood speaking with a well dressed man who appeared to be the captain of the ship. The captain wore a rich black wool coat, tan trousers, and a white tunic that was the biggest signifier of his superiority. Unlike the other grimy men roaming around the ship, the two appeared to be in a serious discussion. Aidan’s hands rested on his hips in a way that Fin knew to be like himself, and as he watched the way his father’s face moved, and the way his head tilted, he had to admit there were a great deal of similarities…

Giving his head a shake, the redhead strode forward until he stood only a foot back from the two men, making them immediately halt their conversation as they both turned to look at him. Fin set the barrel on the ground, then placed his hands on his hips.

“I apologize for interrupting the discussion; however, I was wondering if I might borrow Mr. Helmer for a moment, Captain?”

Even Aidan couldn’t hide his look of confusion as he slowly crossed his arms over his chest to stare more directly at his son.

“Yes… I suppose this matter could… wait.” The Captain was staring back and forth between the two nervously before he slowly stepped back.

Aidan’s expression was flat, and Fin could see the irritation building in his gaze.

“You are supposed to be below deck preparing the evening meal.”

“That is precisely what I am doing; however, I need your ability in order to give these men something worth stomaching.”

Whatever the Chief of Troivackian Military had been expecting to hear, it hadn’t been that.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The brick ovens haven’t been cleaned, in what looks like weeks. If I try to light it now it will be a smokehouse down there. So for tonight, if you are able to sustain boiling water and a heated pan for these potatoes, I can prepare a better meal for the men than just salted meat and cheese.”

Aidan stared at his son, completely baffled.

“You… You want me to use my abilities to… boil water… for your potatoes?”

“You can call them our potatoes if it makes you feel better.” Fin offered as he gestured Bruce and Stanley forward to set the cauldrons down.

“Why… would you come up here to ask that? Why not send one of these men to relay your request?” Aidan asked, moving forward, his eyes narrowing.

“Because I’m doubtful you would’ve listened. I have your attention now, don’t I?”

Fin knew what he was doing was a massive gamble, but… he needed to find ways of getting closer to everyone on the ship if he wanted to learn anything that could be helpful.

After a moment of carefully studying his son, Aidan let out a chuckle of disbelief. The smallest of calculating smiles then moved across his face.

“Very well. Let’s see what I can do, shall we?”

Fin then did the unexpected.

He grinned. However there was a strange sly glint in his eyes that made the Chief of Military falter back a step.

“Come on down to the galley. I’m not sure Bruce or Stanley will be able to fit in there with us though. Sorry about that, men.”

Aidan turned a perplexed stare to the two Troivackians who looked openly mortified.

“We’ve gotten quite close you see, they will be most disappointed to miss the show,” Fin explained as he stepped past the two soldiers while giving them affectionate pats on their backs, which in turn resulted in the entire crew on deck freezing and watching the entire exchange as though their two comrades were naked and singing ballads.

Fin then darted back to stand in front of them, hoisted the nearly forgotten barrel back up on his shoulder, and proceeded to shoot a smile and wink at the two soldiers.

Once again startling Aidan Helmer who became at a complete loss for words as he stared at his son’s retreating back. The fire witch’s hands moved to his hips as he attempted to fathom just what his spawn was attempting to do… though poor Stanley and Bruce were just trying to calm their blushing faces. They also realized the only reason Fin had made them carry the potatoes all the way up onto the deck and back down was so that they couldn't physically stop him leaving the galley.

"I don't think guarding the Daxarian is going to be as easy as we thought," Bruce murmured to his friend before turning and following the father and son.

Stanley frowned, but began to return back to the galley, all while attempting to ignore the strange expressions on his fellow soldiers faces.