Gull makes a startling discovery in Ch 12/Sc 1b of RAGING SEA by @KimHeadlee #amwriting

Graphic overlay c2016 by Kim Headlee.

Slowly I'm getting my new laptop whipped into shape. 

Windows 10 has not been the disaster I was expecting. In fact, as an operating system it's actually halfway decent. This, from someone who still remembers the improvements rolled out with Windows 3.1 in the last millennium.

I have had to bite the proverbial bullet and get accustomed to Microsoft's "ribbon" method of command organization for applications such as Windows Explorer, but I flat-out refuse to drink the Cloud Subscription Kool-aid for Microsoft Office.

Rather than install Microsoft Office 2010, however, I have decided to try an "open" (i.e., free) software suite, LibreOffice. So far, I have used its spreadsheet and word processing programs, and I've found the interfaces to be a reasonable hybrid of the pre- and post-2010 versions of their Microsoft Office counterparts. 

As of this writing, I've also begun dabbling with LibreDraw, which opens Microsoft Publisher files, and thank heaven for that mercy. I had been using Publisher to create promotional materials and to develop the Kindle edition of my forthcoming graphic novel, The Challenge. Now that I have my nonstandard fonts installed, and with the final page of episode 1 soon to be finalized, I have dived into that work in earnest.

Best of all, LibreOffice's command icons are brightly colored, making it much easier for my beleaguered eyes.

Gull can scarcely believe his eyes in today's excerpt from Raging Sea when he sees what Morghe's ship has been transporting.

Previous excerpts of Raging Sea 
Chapters 1–6 in Raging Sea: Reckonings

 Chapter 7: Sc 1 | Sc 2 | Sc 3 | Sc 4 | Sc 5a | Sc 5b |
Chapter 8: Sc 1a | Sc 1b | Sc 2 | Sc 3a | Sc 3b |
Chapter 9: Sc 1a | Sc 1b | Sc 1c | Sc 1d | Sc 1e |
Chapter 10: Sc 1a | Sc 1b | Sc 2a | Sc 2b | Sc 3a | Sc 3b | Sc 3c |
Chapter 11: Sc 1a |  Sc 1b | Sc 1c | Sc 2 | Sc 3a | Sc 3b |
Chapter 12: Sc 1a | 

Raging Sea Chapter 12, Scene 1b

©2016 by Kim Headlee

All rights reserved.

The first passenger off the ship was a wee lad, tugging on his father’s hand and leaning forward for all he was worth, like a hound straining against the leash, whilst his mother struggled to keep pace. Both parents were toting knapsacks stuffed to bursting with the gods alone knew what. The man had a second, larger pack strapped to his back.

As his feet touched the dock, the lad surged and broke his father’s grip. Whooping with triumph, he careened toward Gull, ignoring his parents’ startled, “Eoghann, no! Come back at once!” They exchanged grimaces and rushed after him.

The lad shook his head, his wee little legs and arms pumping in furious rhythm to gain distance. But he missed spotting a loose board, tripped, and smacked headfirst onto the planking.

Gull dashed to his side and righted him in moments. The tyke looked more confused and stunned than hurt, though he already had grown a fair purpling knot on his forehead. But as his parents neared, he broke into a loud wail. Gull scooped him up. The boy, still howling, started flailing his fists and kicking anything in reach. Gull had to hold him at arm’s length to avoid getting bruised.

“So sorry, sir,” said the father in gruff Breatanaiche, reaching for the lad. Gull was all too happy to deposit the squirming dervish into the man’s arms.

“No harm done,” Gull assured him as the mother joined them to coo over the still struggling child, fingering his knot. Gull laid a hand on Eoghann’s shock of carrot hair. “Ye be a brave one, mo laochan.”

That got the lad’s attention. All movement of limbs and torso stilled. Between sniffles he gave Gull a puzzled stare.

“It means ‘my little hero’ in the tongue of my people,” explained Gull to the trio, selecting a word he thought the lad might know.

This time when Eoghann kicked, it was accompanied by a squeal and grin of pure joy.

And this time, Gull noticed the outline of a pair of tiny blue doves flying across the boy’s bare heel.

Only Caledonaich tattooed their children, and only children of the clan’s àrd-banoigin received such a tattoo. And only one clan in all Caledon laid claim to the pair of doves in flight.

Loholt . . . alive? With Móranach guardians? Answering to the name Eoghann?
 
Before Gull could decide which question to voice first, the lady Elian had hailed and her companion jounced down the gangplank. Gull and Elian watched as the warrior tried to steady her while maintaining his balance, though the pair managed to traverse the distance without mishap.

For a few moments the woman appeared to be looking past Elian and Gull, a slight but triumphant smile flashing across her face.

Gull turned to follow the line of her gaze in time to glimpse Loholt and his guardians disappearing into the crowd.

He could have kicked himself all the way to fire-ravaged Ifrinn and back.

Elian would be hearing about his suspicions later; Gull knew not whom else he could trust with such a sensitive matter.

***

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