Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters – you know it, I know, so let’s stop reminding me of this sad fact.
I’m making no money with this, though it would be cool.
Warning: This is my first fanfic and English isn’t my native language (it’s German), so there could be a lot of terrible errors especially in grammar. Feel free to blame my English teacher for it. And now enjoy! (P.S. This story is only to add to the mystery of Maeve’s and Dermott’s past!)
Sindbad stood at the tiller and watched his crew. He sighed deeply but he knew there was nothing he could do about the current situation. Not even the Master of the Seven Seas could command the winds to blow. Sindbad’s eyes wandered to the beautiful Celt sitting at the bow. Maeve too couldn’t seem to concentrate on her studies with her stomach grumbling like that for her eyes kept wandering to the horizon where the sun was to set in an hour. Another day gone by without any wind.
Firouz came up from below and shouted: "Dinner’s ready!". The crew quickly made its way down to the gallery. Normally they wouldn’t have had dinner before sunset but there was simply nothing else to do. They had started the early, joint meals two days before – in a way to show the crew that everybody got the same amount of food and prevent a mutiny. Sindbad sighed again inwardly for still he knew the only thing that kept the men from a mutiny was the fact that they were aware that it wouldn’t have changed a thing had they taken over control. No wind, no food.
Now they sat at the table in the gallery and stared at their "dinner", handed out by Firouz: three date-fruits, a small piece of dry meat and a piece of bread as hard as stone. The men grumbled a bit, but nobody said a word. "I suggest that you all try to eat real slow for it is proven by science that by eating slowly... oh never mind..." Firouz stopped his speech under the icy glares of the crew. Sindbad turned to the sorceress sitting on the bench with Dermott perched on her left hand.
"You’re sure there is no black magic at work here Maeve?" he asked her almost hopefully.
"Positive." She said looking at him. Sindbad noticed she had grown rather thin the last days because she ate even less than the rest of the men. "Take it as it is Sindbad. It’s just Mother Nature having a bad day."
"You mean five bad days lass!" Doubar mumbled. The others grumbled affirmatively and then fell silent again. They ate in total silence only watching each other.
Only Maeve seemed calm. She sat feeding Dermott with pieces of bread and meat not looking at any of the men. She was soothing him with her mind voice. *Soon we will have wind again my brother. Then we’ll sail to the next port and eat enough for a month!* But in fact she only tried to convince herself of it.
Suddenly Cassim mumbled: "Do you really have to waste our food like this, woman? By giving it to this dumb bird?"
Maeve sent Cassim only one of her famous glares, then she returned her attention to Dermott. "What I’m doing with my part of the food concerns only me, man!" she responded toneless.
A short while later Hassad spoke up again. "But Cassib’s right. We’re starving here slowly while that... that... bird is getting fatter and fatter." He glared at Dermott. "I say we roast that bird now, as long as we still can!" He picked up his table knife and stretched his other hand towards Dermott to grab him. Dermott screeched and fluttered up.
Sindbad wanted to say something to stop the man, when Maeve already jumped up and flung herself over the table. There she grabbed Hassad and kicked him in the face with her knee. Then she slammed him in the wall and pinned him there with her left forearm. With the other hand she took a dagger out of her boot and held it against Hassad’s throat. The rest of the crew only gasped, for this all happened within a few heartbeats before anybody else could react.
"Don’t you ever dare to try and touch Dermott again, you damn bastard!" she hissed. "For I swear, if you ever try this again I shall slash you open , make your entrails emerge and feed them to Dermott! You son of a bitch!" She turned around furiously and stared at the men. Her eyes were glowing in anger. "And that holds for everybody! Touch Dermott and you are dead meat, I swear!" Maeve eyed them all with a look of pure rage. The men gulped and some nodded quickly as not to anger her anymore.
Sindbad was speechless. Never before had he seen the Celt –or anybody else for that – that angry!
Maeve flung her red hair aside with a harsh toss of her head and returned her attention to Hassad. She stared at him as if daring him to say something against her. But he kept his mouth shut, sending silent prayers to Allah that he would survive this woman’s anger this time. Maeve punched him against the wall with her forearm a last time then she let go of him. She slowly went back to her place, picked up her plate with the rest of the food and handed it to Doubar. "There you go Tubby." She said. "I’m not hungry anymore all of the sudden." Doubar accepted it hesitantly and nodded. Maeve tossed her hair aside once again and turned around. "I think I need some fresh air. Come Dermott!" with that she left the gallery and headed upstairs.
The crew sat in silence, unable to move and unsure what to say or do. Several heads turned to their captain but Sindbad too could only shrug. His only woman aboard had once again left him speechless.
Maeve stood at the bow with Dermott on her hand and watched the sunset. While she was still furious about Hassad’s attempt to kill Dermott, her anger slowly turned into mere frustration. Somehow she could even understand the men... they didn’t know any better. For them Dermott was just what he looked like: An ordinary hawk.
She sighed frustrated. *If only there was something I could do! All we need is a little bit of wind!* She thought, fully aware that Dermott could hear her.
*Well sister, actually there is something you can do about this...* Dermott answered her in his mind voice.
Maeve frowned and looked at her brother. *But how? You know that my magic isn’t strong enough to control all of the elements yet!*
*It doesn’t have to be. As you said, all we need is a little bit of wind, sis... Your magic may not be strong enough but...*
*No!!!* Maeve interrupted him even before he had the chance to finish his sentence. *There’s no way I could do it! It simply isn’t right!*
*Listen to me Maeve.* Dermott tried to reason her. *There is no other way! You have to do it!*
"No! I could never..." Maeve stopped herself when she noticed that she had shouted the last part out loud. Several members of the crew who were also standing on deck by now sent her irritated glances but said nothing. They had adjusted to the strange behaviour the sorceress sometimes showed.
*No, Dermott,* Maeve spoke in her mind voice again trying to calm herself. *I promised I would keep it save until... I simply can’t do it! It belongs to you, and you alone! It would be a sacrilege if anybody else would use it!*
*We both know that that’s ridiculous, Maeve.* Dermott said unwilling to give up. *If you don’t use it now, I will never have the chance to use it again and you know that!*
She kept quiet, thinking of the situation for a while. In the end she heaved a deep sigh. "Fine. I give up. But I still don’t have to like it!" The Celt said once again forgetting to speak in mind voice. With that she let the hawk fly up to the mast and stamped down towards her cabin.
There she began to dig in the contents of her oak chest until she found what she had been looking for. The objet had about the size of two fists and was firmly wrapped in leather. Carefully she carried it up to deck and returned to her place at the bow.
*Are you happy now?* she asked Dermott with a glance at his spot on the mast. The bird only chirped affirmative and urged her to go on. Maeve sighed lowly and returned her attention to the object in her hands. Slowly and very careful she began to unwrap it until her fingers felt the smooth wood of the...
Sindbad watched the sorceress from his place at the tiller. He had taken over his shift during the time she had gone to her cabin and was now watching curiously what she was doing. What was it about her that always seemed to draw his attention towards her, Sindbad mused. She was a total mystery to him. She had been sailing with them for quite a while by now and he still hadn’t learned more about her or her past, than he had been told by Dim-Dim during the first week of their joint sailing. And all Sindbad could do about it was to keep watching Maeve silently like he did now, for the Celt wouldn’t tell him anything. He saw the small package in her hands, saw her unpacking it with soft movements as if to caress the content. Finally the leather was off and Sindbad could see what it had kept. Even from his faraway spot he could make out the skilfully made ornaments decorating the...
...panpipes in her hands. Maeve sighed again when she saw it. So many memories came floating back to her at this sight.
*Are you absolutely sure of this my brother?* she asked once again. *It doesn’t feel right!*
*I am sure! Now go on sis!* Dermott encouraged her.
So Maeve sat down on the deck-rail and looked westwards across the sea to where the last rays of light were vanishing. Ever so slowly she lifted the panpipes to her lips and began to play. A long lost melody, she had formerly heard so often. Her tones were hesitantly, lingering, for she tried to remember their correct order. Shyly some of the notes danced towards the sky or across the ship. But nothing happened.
Back at the tiller Sindbad rather had to guess the tunes than he heard it. And the few he heard seemed sad, as if the music itself was in pain. It also seemed to upset Maeve, Sindbad could tell. Then he suddenly heard Dermott chirping furiously from his spot on top of the mast and the woman stopped her play abruptly.
*Hell, sis, what are you doing? Don’t you see? It’ll never work this way!* Dermott’s frustrated voice filled Maeve’s mind. Upset she stopped to play.
*But I’m doing it the same way you always did!* she argued.
*And exactly that’s your fault!* Dermott answered. *This was my way of playing the "Ballad of the Winds". But you are not me! You have to do it your way!*
*But how?*
*Close your eyes, little one. Relax. Think of all the different facets of the wind. The ways it can be. The way it feels like. The way it sounds. Let the music guide you. And you’ll see, it’ll all work out.*
*Fine.*
Slowly Maeve closed her eyes and let her mind wander. She thought about the nature of the wind. It could be strong and devastating, it could be calm and soothing. She remembered how the breeze of spring in Eire had felt upon her skin, how they had longed for wind during the summer heat, how the wind of autumn played with the colourful leaves, how it twirled snowflakes in winter. She saw in her mind how the wind swelled the sails of the Nomad and how it ruffled Sindbad’s hair when he held the tiller.
And without noticing it, Maeve had lifted the flute to her lips and began to play again.
The first tones were still weak, but they grew stronger with every thought of Maeve. The notes danced towards the sky, across the ocean and across the ship. They twirled and twisted and enchanted everybody in their own, peaceful magic. The sound was calm and soothing, yet powerful and encouraging like only the one of panpipes can be.
Sindbad had seen how the sorceress had drifted into a state of relaxation and then how she had begun to play with her eyes closed. And short after that the tune had reached him. He had been amazed and with him the rest of the crew on deck. Never before had they heard so much power in such simple notes.
Sindbad closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling. He could the music in every part of his body. It felt like the touch of a long lost lover, like the caress of the Goddess herself. It gave him strength and made him weak, protected him and made him vulnerable, lifted him up and made him fall, he could reach the stars and touch the ground...
And in this wonderful, confusing mix of emotions he felt it: A gentle breeze started to stroke his back. It grew stronger with every note that Maeve played, until it swelled the sails of the Nomad.
The captain was amazed. Could it be that Maeve had done this? The same Maeve that had split the Nomad’s mast twice with her attempts of practising magic?
Automatically he snapped to the Captain-mode, shouting orders to the crew. But he didn’t hear his own voice. His words disappeared in mid-air among the power of the panpipes’ melody. Yet the crew obeyed. They too hadn’t heard a word, but still they knew what to do automatically. Soon everyone was working on deck, doing his duties. But they didn’t think of it at all. Their minds were totally blank, trapped in the magic of Maeve’s tune.
The sorceress was still sitting at the bow, producing sweet note after sweet note. She was lost in her thoughts, her memories, her feelings. She hadn’t noticed when the wind had begun to blow, or the sudden activity on deck. Her fingers danced across the flute as she imagined Dermott playing it, sitting on a rock in the bay of her home in Eire.
Suddenly Sindbad’s mind was filled with pictures. Pictures of a strange man sitting by the sea and playing a flute. Pictures of a strange, rich landscape, of the wind stroking the fields of this land. Pictures of colourful ships, big and small ones, sailing across the ocean to lands of dreams.
He didn’t know where these pictures came from, but neither did he want them to leave again.
The rest of the crew also began to see things with their mind’s eyes. Rongar saw the trees in his home country bending in the strong wind of a storm. Doubar saw two beautiful women gently blowing cool air to him with big palm leaves. Firouz saw a little windmill on one of his inventions turning quickly in a gust of wind.
A few minutes later the Nomad was making full speed through the waters towards the nearest port.
*Maeve?* Dermott probed gentle and quiet in his sisters mind.
*Mmmmhh...* she answered him, still half in trance. Her playing didn’t stop or at least waver.
*It’s okay, sis. You can stop now. You did a wonderful job there. I’m very proud of you!*
*Mmmh...* She played her last tone and slowly opened her eyes. The note danced in the air, lingering there, unwilling to leave so soon. Finally it was gone, leaving only total silence behind on deck. True, there was still the sound of the ocean, the waves bumping against the ship and the creaking of the boat, but the sounds didn’t sink into the minds of the sailors. For them it was as if any noise in the world had disappeared with the last note.
Maeve sent a last look across the ocean. It was dark now. She heaved a sigh, returning her attention to the panpipes in her hands, once again stroking them gently before wrapping the firmly in the leather. She stood up and headed below.
As soon as the Celt had gone below, it was as if the layer of magic had been lifted from the ship. Some men shook their heads to rid them of the heaviness. Others tried to remember what had happened during the last half hour. But they simply wouldn’t get any clear pictures of what they had just witnessed.
Dermott screeched over their heads and flapped into the clear sky of the night.
At the door to her cabin Maeve was stopped by a well known voice. "Maeve?"
Slowly she turned around. "Yeah, what is it?" she asked Sindbad, sending him a small smile. She wouldn’t let him see how she really felt at that moment. "What do you want?"
"I... hmm... it’s just..." the Master of the Seven Seas stumbled over his own words. He stopped and scratched his head, looking at the woman in front of him, who had become even more of a mystery to him during this day. Sindbad took a deep breath and started again. "Maeve... It’s just that I was amazed by your music... it was so... so... wonderful; simply amazing. I didn’t know you could do something like that. Is that something Dim-Dim taught you?"
Maeve looked down at her hands. This was difficult for her. What was she supposed to tell him? She couldn’t come out with it that easy, it had been a secret for too long by now. She had once sworn not to tell anybody of it. Then she noticed that he was still waiting for an answer.
"No," she mumbled, still staring down at her hands, unwilling to look into those sea-blue eyes. "Dim-Dim didn’t teach me that. Yet, I think he knows of this... gift of mine."
"Then, who taught you to play like that, to command the wind. Who gave you the panpipes?" Sindbad was curious, he had to know more. He desperately wanted to understand his sorceress.
Maeve kept quiet for a long time. Finally she looked up and said "A very dear friend taught me how to play the panpipes. He was a true master of music. The panpipes are only borrowed, I don’t own them, I’m just preserving them for a while. Until..." her voice cracked and she looked down again. A single tear ran down her cheek, unnoticed by Maeve. Sindbad lifted his hand and gently wiped away the tear. Startled by the touch Maeve raised her eyes and their gaze met.
"Maeve are you okay?" Sindbad asked.
The Celt swallowed hard. It’s no good to grieve for things that cannot be changed, she told herself firmly. She forced a smile and answered Sindbad. "I’m fine... or at least will be soon... I think I should go to bed." With that she turned on her heels and wanted to enter her cabin. But once again she was stopped by a gently voice.
"Maeve..."
"Mmh?" She didn’t turn around.
"Is there maybe something you would like to tell me, Maeve?" he asked hesitantly.
Maeve smiled to herself. It was just like the time when they had freed Sindbad from Rumina’s island. She turned around to face Sindbad, trying to hide the mischievous grin that was spreading across her face.
"Well, perhaps yes Sindbad, there might be something to tell you. But not today!" With that she stepped into her cabin and closed the door.
Sindbad stood in front of it, smiling again, happy to know that she would be fine. "As I once said, I’ll be waiting my sorcerer’s apprentice!" he whispered and went to take over the tiller.
The End
*~*~*
So that’s it. Please tell me what you think of it, I need to know if I should keep writing.