Wrenogal: Act II, xxxvii-xlii
Read the full cycle here:
xxxvii
They now approached the seaside, where the ship
lay washed upon the beach, her cave-in bare,
and growing new life with each new wave’s sip
that sweetly washed into her open air.
And Wrenogal descended, with a smile
that hadn’t been seen on his weary lips
since ere the Prowler’s first nautical mile
surpassed the likes of other, lesser ships.
And looked first, at his greatest, proudest joy:
the broken vessel, cankering with moss,
that could no longer voyages employ,
but was not, in his new mind, any loss.
And in that rapture turned to face his friend,
his first friend since his own steed’s own first end.
xxxviii
Now, I tell you, here’s a sight I really wish that I had seen.
When the Wren appeared before Wyveria, who had not been
expecting more than long lost treasures, or a secret she could use,
instead: a person, who, they said, had nothing left but death to lose.
But I’m told she was as clever as her reputation said.
Said she had far more to lose by vexing him or dealing dread,
instead, she said she needed him for something listed in his song:
why not help this fair merchant in reversing trade that had gone wrong?
“Here in Dustan are vast quarries, rich, but they cannot be sold—
mountains bar the way from changing caravans from ores to gold.
But take your dragon, secretly, transport our market in the sky,
and then good men like Nolda will not need to make their families fly.”
Wrenogal stared at the woman who asked that he be a coach,
and—swallowing his princely pride—he asked her more, without reproach.
xxxix
Back in her parlor, where the cat was curled
upon the desk within a slim sunbeam,
Wyveria a small letter unfurled
as her door cracked, revealing a horse team.
Before the well-brushed pair there stood the man
who’d written her the letter. “Dear, oh dear,
I’ve heard you’re staying put! You understand
I was about to leave this hovel here?
I’ve invited a few more here to pry,
if you, of course, don’t mind our stopping by.
We simply want to know why one like you
would fail to follow where your wealth was due.”
And filtered in a host of eyes askance,
to undo and reclothe her rightful stance.
xl
“You must know they have well established roads
near Dunwich. That’s where I think I will go.
You’re welcome to come with me–we’d have loads
to talk about! The journey’s nice, you know!”
“That boy of yours. It’s not safe for him here,
but he’d have fun in Ryke. Why not go there?”
“I have a caravan that goes there! Clear
from Octave to the coast—our teams could share!”
“You know they’ll rip you up out here,” said he
who entered first. His eyes tried to be kind.
“Rip up what? You’ve all said, empty I’ll be
without your coaches. But, I think you’ll find
I’ve got a note you’ll never earn.” The door
flung wide by Nolda, looking like a boar.
xli
The cat leaped into Wyveria’s lap
at the crash of the door. “You need help, Miss?”
“Not now,” the lady said, milking the trap
she’d laid specifically for fools like this.
Their eyes, which started so proud to be here,
looked everywhere for any other door.
“Ah, that’s the only one. But never fear,
good Nolda is a kind man to the poor.”
She stood. “And poor you are if you must flank
a lady with such numbers—and such lies—
I would not be the one that you would thank
for coming, but your own illicit ties.”
The cat purred in her arms to see them leave.
“Dear Nolda, you’re a fine trick up a sleeve.”
xlii
As Nolda went to all the honest men
in Dustan, in the trades round about his,
Wyveria was questioned once again
by friends for whom her actions formed a quiz.
“You’re not going to Acles? There, I say,
your scope of demographics would be keen.”
“You’re staying? Why, when even on this day
the companies are nowhere to be seen?”
To all this, the fair merchant waved outside.
“See all the men who still live here? They’ll work
for those who cannot cross the countryside.
A job that stays is one they will not shirk.”
And, wagging heads, the capital seeped out,
while fortune in real people hung about.