But Gareth had an important job to do, and Tad continued to act like a seven-year-old, which shunted attention away from Gareth while drawing attention to the pair of them. Talking to him might help, but probably not. A nanny of some sort might help, but Gareth feared to have anyone too close because they might discover some of his secrets. Besides, it could place them in danger, too.
“It’s a bigger ship. You’ll like it.”
“Ship floors tip and makes me sick.”
“You and I have to talk. Man to man.”
“I thought we were going to stay at that big house.”
The Inn. He had paid for a room but when the City of Adelaide pulled into port his plans changed. He’d expected to stay at least several days waiting for the next ship, but when he saw the Brotherhood he almost panicked. He’d carefully asked at the inn if anyone had ever seen any of the strange passengers in green robes who arrived. None had, although several had traveled to the mainland and had seen them there. But never in the islands.
Blackie had spotted another of the king’s ships searching the tropical seas for him a few days ago, and now two of the Brotherhood arrived in St. Michelle. There was a new, evil voice he’d heard in his mind. His father’s home was attacked. And Tad’s new mental abilities came to light. It had become a busy time.
Gareth placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and urged him up the gangplank after stopping at the inn long enough to grab their luggage. An officer answered questions and accepted the coins for passage.
The crewman asked their names and welcomed them. He escorted them to their cabin while explaining the ship’s rules and eating arrangements. Their cabin was little different in style or size than the supply ship. After dropping their luggage onto the single bed, they left to explore the ship. Several times Gareth paused to pass a few words with sailors. He would again leave their minds fuzzy and unable to recognize Gareth or his grandson, let alone verify they had ever traveled on the ship.
Tad said, “It smells funny. Bad.”
“Better than the last ship. You said that one stank.”
“Do we have to go to bed right away?”
“Nope. Why don’t we take a quick tour of the ship and maybe sit outside and breathe in some salt air?”
While sitting with two sailors on the bow, both of whom looked hardly older than Tad, he saw a woman board the ship. As she passed under an oil lamp, he recognized her as the one who had followed the Brothers ashore. That was odd. She arrived this afternoon and sailed again on the midnight tide. Why would a woman arrive on an island and then leave later the same day for the same port she’d sailed from?
He watched as she raised her hand to pull the edge of her bonnet forward as if hiding her face. The simple act drew his attention more than her travel arrangements.
The two young sailors sitting beside them were playing a game with squares of wood placed on a board. They were teasing Tad and threatening to teach him how to gamble. Maybe he could borrow a few coppers from his father to play?
Gareth smiled back and considered allowing Tad to play and teach them a lesson. With Tad touching minds with him, and Gareth reading the minds of the two little gamblers, Tad could earn himself some spending money. He said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Listen, Tad and I have to head to our cabin. We have some unpacking to do.”
“We do?” Tad protested.
“Yes. And we have things to discuss,” he turned to the sailors. “Have a nice evening and I’m sure we’ll talk on the voyage.”
First thing in the morning, he’d locate the first officer and get the names and occupations of other passengers, a normal request. Gareth believed there was only one other passenger, the woman who followed the brothers. Had she simply walked ashore after them—or had she been following them?
Tad dumped his travel bag onto the bunk and started filling the drawers built in under the bed. When he finished, the four drawers all held only a few items each, with no drawers for Gareth’s things, but Gareth didn’t object. “Tad, you understand we are here on a very important job?”
“Momma told me.”
“Today when you didn’t want to take a nap, and you were angry. We can’t have that again. It will bring bad people to us.”
Tad gave him the look seven-year-old boys use when they no longer believe children’s stories.
Gareth said, “I’m going to tell you something else important. You can never tell anyone else without talking to me first. Promise?”
The boy finished loading his drawers and tossed his empty travel bag into a corner. He sat beside Gareth and nodded, solemn as if he were forty instead of seven.
There seemed to be no other way but tell him outright. If Tad didn’t understand to keep it to himself, or if he didn’t try to control his mind, Gareth could influence him to either help him be quiet or to confuse him so he would think of other things. “You have a special power. You and I can speak without words.”
He waited for Tad’s surprised reaction. When none came, he tried again. “I can talk to you without words even when I’m in another room.”
Tad shrugged. “I know that.”
The revelation took Gareth by surprise. “You do?”
“I can always hear you in my head when I listen for you. But I sometimes get confused in my head. Who is thinking? You or me. What does it mean to influence me?”
Gareth locked his mind down. The boy had already heard too much. He hears everything I think? “It means to fill your mind with other things so you cannot pass on information you shouldn’t.”
“Like about us talking inside our heads?”
“How long has this been going on with you? How long have you been listing to what is in my head?”
“I could always hear you.”
“Well, now I can hear you, too.”
“Isn’t that good?”
“No. The problem is that you don’t know how to only touch my mind. Just you and me. When you speak with your mind, everyone hears you.”
“Is that why you smother me?”
“Smother?”
“You hold down my thoughts so I can’t talk to you.”
Gareth settled back on the bed and tried to think of where this was going and how to approach it in a manner a seven-year-old would understand.
Tad said, “I understand more than you think.”
“How much of what I just thought did you hear?”
“All of it. You said you wondered where this was going and how to talk to me in a way a seven-year-old boy would know.”
Orderly shouting came from the decks above. Feet ran in response. Orders were issued. Tad looked at Gareth. “We’re leaving.”
“Yes. This is not the best time to talk. Want to go above decks and watch?”
“You do, so I do too,” Tad said, obviously still reading Gareth’s feelings, if not his words.
Tad walked out the door and climbed the steep ladder to the main deck. They stood out of the way, near the stern where a door led to the crew’s quarters. Sailors pulled the heavy ropes that tied the ship to the pier aboard and coiled them, and an officer, not the Captain, shouted more orders. One sail was raised. The wind was light and the tide running. The ship pulled slowly away from the pier with the wind and tide pushing it. The sail captured the wind, and the helmsman turned the ship gently to face the open sea.