Spectacle of the Spring Queen: Seasons of Soldark, #4

One

As she stood on the dock beside the steamship, Mae Wright reached up to pull off her fur scarf. She adjusted the white hat pinned neatly to her curls, which she had dyed pink to celebrate her new venture. They matched her traveling dress, which was dark pink with white trim, and brought out a little color in her pale cheeks.

She shifted her hold on Bobbin, her mini Goldendoodle, as she unwound the suddenly stifling scarf.

"Well, I suppose it is spring, Bobbin, she muttered, just not the type of spring we’re used to." She threw another glance at the wood and iron gangplank to the steamship she’d spent the last two weeks on and adjusted Bobbin more securely on her hip as she waited.

She filled her lungs with the crisp air of the Soldark harbor and was thrilled that the air didn’t burn her lungs with cold like it did back in Corsich. She eyed the red and gold sunrise over the ocean as she exhaled in relief.

Well, this is our home now, she said brightly to Bobbin as she tucked the scarf into the small suitcase she’d lived out of for the past two weeks. The warmth does have its benefits.

She tore her gaze from the ship—she was still waiting for her trunks to be unloaded—and glanced toward the varied cityscape spreading out from the port. Though she had never set foot in Soldark, she now owned a small shop in the merchant district; the building had landed in her lap by way of her second cousin’s will.

A whiff of smoked meat on the salty air reached her, making her mouth water. Her stomach immediately responded as if it had only just realized it was on stationary land and no longer roiling about on the ocean. She was eyeing what she thought was the source of the smell—a small pub down on the corner of the harbor—when the ship’s captain walked toward her. Finally, she thought, smiling up at him. Once she had her trunks, she could find her new shop, her new home. She was quite looking forward to properly bathing and getting out of her traveling dress.

The first mate followed the captain, his head tucked down and his hands behind his back.

Mae tilted her head, wondering if there was a problem. Over the course of her trip, she hadn’t once spoken to the captain, though she had spent as much time outside of her quarters as she could, unable to stand the cramped space for any longer than necessary. Her queasy stomach, however, often demanded she retreat to the privacy of her commode.

My apologies, madam, the captain said, his voice surprisingly quiet for a man who commanded an entire steamship, but we’ve searched the hold—myself included—and your trunks are not aboard.

Mae’s stomach fell as though she were still on the ship amid stormy seas, something the steamship had encountered several times. She clutched Bobbin to her chest, and he wriggled. Well, I suppose I’ll have to manage somehow, she said automatically. What do you think happened to them? Are they still in Corsich?

She dug her hand into her pocket and pulled out her coin purse, glad she had kept it on her person. At least I have my coin purse, she said, trying to look at the bright side. Then the realization sank in. How am I supposed to open my seamstress shop without my equipment? My fabrics? She gasped. My clothes!

She looked down at her dress, trimmed in fur and made from as many layers of thick cotton flannel as could easily be stitched together. Even without her scarf, she was still sweating. She only had one other traveling dress, and it was the exact same style as this one, only with a more muted blue and gray color scheme. Her suitcase only contained the few essentials she had needed while on the steamship.

The captain frowned politely. The port master in Corsich will have kept them safe in his office, I assure you. This does happen...on occasion, he added somewhat reluctantly. We can retrieve it at no cost to you, of course.

Mae nodded. She would just have to make do, like she always did. It wasn’t as though she had expected moving to a new city and opening her own business would be easy. But starting out without all her clothes...

Squeezing her coin purse, she wondered how much of her startup money she would have to spend merely clothing herself until—

Wait. When will they arrive?

A brisk wind ruffled her dress and hair, blissfully cooling the sweat on her neck.

The captain looked over at the first mate, who shrunk in on himself even further. Seven weeks, six if we’re—

Seven weeks! Mae yelped. Just as she did, a steamship disembarked at the next dock, letting out a piercing whistle from the bridge.

At the shrill sound, Bobbin contorted himself out of her grasp in terror.

No! she shrieked, losing hold of him. They were too close to the edge of the dock!

Something fell out of her other hand as she blindly tightened her hold on Bobbin before he could leap from her hands. She clutched him safely against her chest, burying her face in his curly gold coat. Oh, Bobbin, Mae muttered, her heart racing. She hastily stepped away from the edge of the dock, the dark waters churning menacingly below as the wake of the departing steamship slapped waves against the massive dock posts.

As the shock wore off, she became aware of a strange sound—like something metallic rolling on the dock—and noticed that both the captain and the first mate were on their hands and knees at the edge of the dock, scrambling for coins.

Her coins.

Her coin purse was gone, and the tiny bubbles emerging from the water below indicated exactly where it had fallen.

She took another step back from the edge, not wanting to lose Bobbin...or anything else.

What did she even have left? Bobbin was safe, that much was important. She herself was safe and intact. Beyond that...

Her scarf. A bar of soap and a toothbrush. An extra shift for sleeping in. Two novels. Half a scone wrapped in a napkin. And...

I’m sorry, madam, the captain said in a choked voice, holding out four copper coins they had scrounged from the planks of the dock.

Mae took them with shaking fingers.

Four coppers?

Her automatic urge to smile and say It’s all right faltered and died before she could speak. Would it be all right? How would she make do with almost nothing?

Not even a single gold coin?

And she had to wait seven weeks for her things!

Her knees wobbled, so she re-secured her hold on Bobbin. The sounds of the harbor grew louder, overwhelming her. The slap of the waves on the dock posts. The shouts of the port master to the deckhands. A far away whistle—thankfully, this one didn’t bother Bobbin.

The captain was speaking again.

Sorry, what did you say? She shook her head to clear it.

I’m so sorry, madam, the captain said, frowning. I was saying, we could offer you passage back to Corsich, so you aren’t stranded here without money or belongings, and you can take the return trip with your trunks. There would be no charge.

She bit the inside of her lip, gnawing at the skin. Seven more weeks on the ship?

Six, if we’re lucky, the first mate added, though this failed to cheer her.

Six or seven more weeks in the same two dresses, with no money—no, she would get her trunks eventually, which contained another purse with half her finances. She had deemed it prudent to split it up for this very type of misfortune...except she hadn’t predicted both coin purses would become inaccessible.

Still, she didn’t think she could spend even one more week back on the ship. Though the steamships were well-equipped with amenities these days, nothing in the world could fully dampen the effects of the rolling sea. Not for the first time, she regretted not booking an airship, which would have been quicker and smoother, but the extra cost had deterred her. She had been saving up for so long, even before she had inherited the shop. And now, half of her gold lay at the bottom of the bay, the hungry tides of which had probably already swept her savings away.

Mae rubbed the remaining coins together in her fingers. Four coppers.

She would have to make do.

You know what, Captain? she said, forcing a smile to her face. I think I’ll take my chances here. I’m sure I can find some work in a shop or something until my things arrive.

Saying it out loud strengthened her, and she lifted her head, eyeing the streets that led out of the harbor. Solid land. New faces. And fresh food, if she could get her hands on some more money. With her sewing skills, that shouldn’t be a problem.

Where will you stay? the captain asked, his face wrinkling in worry. I can’t very well leave you here with nothing. He patted his pockets absently. And, well, I don’t have any—

I have a shop, she said, gaining more confidence in her decision. It’s empty, but I’m sure it’ll suffice. Now I’ll have plenty of time to get my bearings in Soldark before I open it.

The captain’s face visibly relaxed. "Ah, good. Where shall we deliver