Chapter Text
The sun is high, the birds are singing, there is a light breeze going through his hair. They have left Bohemia and are wandering through the beautiful landscape of Poland, yet Hans is in a foul mood because Henry is ignoring him.
He cannot be goaded into a light race or to take a break. He refuses to engage in conversation, and when Hans nudges him with his boot, he just moves out of the way. Hans is ready to start whining in frustration just to make him look his way. But Henry just sticks his head further down into the map they have been given.
Hans doubted he was ever meant to leave Bohemia, much less travel to the other side of Poland. He was supposed to stay and die in Rattay, but Hans refuses to be trapped there before he has at least seen the ocean. That is at least the argument he made to Hanush. He just reached for the first thing that sounded complicated, but more realistic than hunting a unicorn. Hans doesn’t know what possessed Hanush. Maybe for once, he took pity on the plight of his nephew, but Hanush let them go, and they left as swiftly as possible before Hanush realised how ridiculous a request it was. So the wedding talks are postponed. At least until he comes back, so Hans is taking it as leisurely as he can.
Beside him, Henry clops on like they have business to attend to. Hans made them veer off the road to see a windmill, so Henry is trying to figure out where they are and gauge the shortest route to the next village. This trip is too long for them to manage with just a small bag, so Hans is, for once, riding his own horse while Henry carries the necessities. It’s weird. Hans has gotten used to being carried by Henry. He knows the rhythm of his gait like his own heartbeat. He barely has to open his mouth or nudge for Henry to know what he wants. When he had suggested they just continue like normal, Henry had just tsk at him and claimed it wasn’t fair for poor Pebbles to carry that amount of baggage for that long.
The point was to escape with his best friend. Fool around in the countryside for as long as possible. See the ocean while they are at it, because why not? Postpone the future as much as possible, except that the mood is just off, and Hans doesn't know how to fix it. The distance is only so long, even with his detours, they will hit the sea eventually, and then they will have to turn around, and before they know it, they will be back in Rattay to the wedding bells and responsibilities. There is a lot he wants before getting married. There are experiences he wants to try and places he wants to be. There are talks he needs to have with his best friend. He doesn’t want to talk about the future, but they have to.
-
“Rattay will probably keep me busy when I take over. There will be less time for hunting.” Hans muses, and Henry just solemnly nods beside him like he’s only half listening.
“Most of my time will probably be spent behind a desk! "Can you imagine?” he squawks. He can, and the thought terrorises him. Hans has never been one for sitting still. Growing up and sitting still for his lessons with the learned man always made him want to tear at the wall like a cat trapped in a barrel. He can learn to go out and mediate disputes or inspect fields, but he fears what will happen if he has to sit and look over a budget and what the consequences to his citizens will be when he makes mistakes.
“I will be spending more time with a scribe than anyone else.” No hunting or drinking or whoring far into the evenings. He’ll be living like a damn monk when he’s not entertaining dignitaries.
“Tell me, Hal. How is your reading going?” If he could just find a spot where he could sneak Henry in, then maybe he would be fine.
“Still working my way through the poetry collection you lend to me.” Hans' mood fell. It’s a collection Hanush gifted to him as a teenager when he showed interest in poetry. It was mostly meant to woo women, but he always found them too simplistic in their prose. If Henry hasn’t made his way through, then he doubts he will be able to help him read through things like petitions and reports about the state of the harvest.
-
“When I get married, I won't have the need for a page.” Hans blurts out one evening around the campfire. Henry looks up from where he is bent over trying to make the fire catch the kindling. In the low light, Hans cannot make out his expression.
“But I will need a bodyguard. He needs to be able to follow where I go. Help me keep order in the city. Would you be up for the task?” Tumble out after, and he feels like a child who dropped his ball, and he desperately needs the other boy to pick it up.
“I believe so, my Lord,” Henry says, but he doesn't sound convinced. Hans bites down the urge to fall to his knees and explain himself.
-
“Pssst– Henry.” Hans hushes to a half dossing Henry, who jerks up by the sound of it. They are taking a rest on a hill to grab a bite to eat. It’s mostly just an excuse to sit down for a bit, and Henry is taking full advantage of the tall, soft grass to lie down for a roll and a nap. Hans appreciates the sturdy tree he’s sitting against, and its long, spindly branches that create the perfect amount of cover.
“wha—”
“Look towards the tree line to the left. Behind the big apple tree.” Henry rolls over with a grumble to sit up, and Hans rolls his eyes at the dramatics. Behind it is a collection of figures shifting around, half hidden by the foliage.
“Now, before they run off!” He hisses under his breath. He doubts they can hear him, but you never know, and this is important. At first, he thought it to be deer, until the closest one reached upward, and human hands latch onto a branch to pull it further down for another to come forward and start picking from it.
“It’s centaurs,” he whispers. A full herd of them. It’s not a big herd. Maybe eight in total if there isn't anyone hidden behind the treeline. It’s a colorful bunch. There is an array of brown shades you will expect in this area, but among them is also a red one with broad tan shoulders and a full beard and a dappled gray one with beautiful silver blond hair. She trots further into the field. For a moment, he thinks she’s looking right at them.
Hans was once told that the Cursed are the results when God doesn’t see fit to give bastards proper shape. They are stuck as half beast and man because he couldn't care to make a decision. Hans believes it to be horseshit. Maybe there is something to the basis of the theory, but if God cared so little about them, then why should he make sure that fish people didn’t end up in places without access to the sea? Just like any other creature, their shape is a regional thing. The fact that there are wild herds of them should tell you everything you need to know. And this one is definitely wild. None of them is wearing a stitch of clothing. The breasts on the gray one are fantastic. They look soft and subtle, but the right amount to fill a hand.
Beside him, Henry is looking on in silence. His ears are perked up like he is listening along. laughter rings out. It’s from the gray one. It’s full and bright and filled with so much joy. She answers something back, but Hans’ human ears cannot make it out, but maybe Henry can.
They look unburdened. Look so gosh darn free that Hans feels the jealousy squeeze the air out of his lungs. What does the life of a wild centaur look like? Is it just days of running and foraging, and lying in grassy fields? Hans would have no place in a herd of centaurs. He is forever weighted down with the burdens of man and a noble to boot. But Henry is a cursed bastard, and while the world treats him as such. Would a wild herd of centaurs do the same, or would they just see someone like them?
Someone must have sent her a signal that they are moving on. With a lost look over her shoulder, she gallops over to join her herd, and they disappear into the forest. Henry lets himself fall back on his side. Neither tries to talk about what they just witnessed.
-
Hanush properly assumed that Henry and Hans' chosen destination would be Gdańsk or something similar. A nice big city with a booming trade. He probably hoped that Hans could acquire useful know how from the merchants and bring the experience back to Rattay.
Hans will have none of that. He doesn't want to see a harbour, he wants to see the ocean. The rolling waves and the bare horizon. He wants ships fighting against the forces of nature. Eat a fish bigger than him. Maybe catch sight of a sea beast. But most of all, he wants to ride with Henry down a beach. Feel the wind and salt in the air, and imagine that he could just ride into the horizon for new adventures.
The village they end up in is small and half buried in sand dunes. small sqaut houses with straw roofs. There is not much to see. There are boats in various stages of repair scattered around and nets hanging on lines like clean washing or garlands. A couple of people are still milling about, but it’s late enough that people are either home or at the tavern, so that is where they go.
The tavern is at least familiar. The decorations might be fishnets and paintings of waves, and the men decked out in layers of waxed clothing instead of the familiar raw cotton and linen, but the hard faces of working men are the same as in any other place.
Hans is prepared for the silence to fall over the patrons as Henry steps in. Except here, to Hans’ stunned disbelief, they barely glance at them before resuming their own conversations. The barmaid comes around and asks them what they want. Hans orders them two ales and moves to find a place where a horse could comfortably stand. Further in, there’s a spot wide enough that he could even lie down if he tucks his legs in.
“You’ve come to see the mermaids, haven’t you?” At the table to the left of the window sits an older man. His beard is white like cotton, and he’s wearing a hat set low over his brow. His clothing is simple, well crafted, and lovingly mended. Henry's ear swivels towards him and makes an inquisitive little whiny. That’s apparently what it takes to grab his attention. Mermaids.
Their ale arrives, and like a sucker, Henry slides his over to the other table. The fisherman grunts a thank you and takes a deep draught. With a satisfied sigh, he settles in and looks them up and down.
“You’re not the usual travelers.”
“We came all the way from Bohemia. Have you heard of Rattay?” The man snorts.
“Never in my life. News doesn’t travel very far in places like this. I know about everything worth knowing locally and the next village over. Everything after that doesn't concern me.”
“I’m Wojciech.” The man says with a tip of his hat.
“Nice to meet you, Wojciech. My name is Hans Capon, and this is my friend Henry of Skalitz. God be with you,” He says brightly and puts on his most polite smile. The man snorts at him.
“Go doesn’t have anything to say in a place like this. The ocean greets you.” Hans doesn't know what to say, so he just keeps smiling. Beside him, Henry shakes his head with a grin and reaches over to stick his hand out to shake.
“I hope it will take good care of us then.” The man seems to like that.
“We came to see the ocean,” Hans interjects.
“Well, it is right outside. What will you be doing after that?” It strikes Hans that he has made a mistake by going to such a small town. If he had gone to Gdańsk, he would have had excuses to stay around for a bit. Here, he will pretty much just have to leave when he has gotten what he came for. For God's sake, do they even have an inn?
“Is there anything else worth seeing, my good sir?” the man smiles.
“Mermaids, for starters.”
“Everyone who comes here should at least get a glimpse of our girls.” Nodding towards Henry.
“You could probably learn something from it.” Henry just smiles awkwardly and scratches at the back of his ear.
“But if that’s not your thing, I got something else,” He says with a drum of his hands against the table top. He leans over the table and waves to grab the attention of another patron. He points in the direction Hans is pretty sure the beach is. He cannot decipher what is being communicated between him, but Wojciech gives the other man a thumbs up. He’s ready to just chuck his ale, but Wojciech settles down again.
“No rush. Finish your ale. You should order your friend a new one. The thing we are going to see isn't going away anytime soon.”
-
They go to the beach, and it is even grander, more overwhelming than he could imagine. There is something incredibly unnerving about not being able to see as much as a mountain in the distance. Just a vast, empty, gray horizon. He feels small in the grand scope of things. What is he and his troubles indeed to an ocean?
He tries to ground himself. The wind is sharp against his cheeks. The smell of salt and rotting plants hangs heavily in the air. Looking over, Henry is trotting around, arms out, with a high, exaggerated gait. Sand is thrown away in clumps as his hooves dig in. Hans steps backward. The ground shifts under his feet.
“Have you had your fill?” Wojciech yells across the beach.
“If so, come with me!” He starts walking towards the sand dunes further down the beach. With a nod from Henry, they follow.
-
The fisherman has dragged them out to the furthest point of the beach to look at a carcass. The animal is a light cast iron gray and white. Its body is oblong in shape, scored horizontally. and tapers down to a flat tail split to the sides. Its mouth runs hallways down its body, and Hans shudders at the thought of that thing coming out of the deep with its maw hinged open.
Hans has only ever read accounts of water animals getting washed up on land. In the tales, they are of monstrous size, big enough to black out the sun if standing beside it. So this one is a bit underwhelming. It’s not because it isn't big, it sure is the biggest fish he has ever seen, but it’s not of those mythical proportions.
“And this is a small one?” Henry says in great astonishment. His back is peeking over the back of the creature. Full attention turned to the man standing beside him. The fisherman laughed.
“This one is practically a colt. It’s a crying shame you don’t get to see a grown one. The big ones are thrice the length of a boat. My cousin claims to have seen one the length of four!” Henry is doing that stupid expression of mouth gaping wonder.
“Does this happen often?”
“Nah. We usually get the small ones. A bit longer than you.” A muted thud rings out as the fisherman kicks the body. Nothing comes out of it. He turns and assesses Henry contemplatively.
“Still fresh enough.”
“Tell me, young man. Would you like to help flense the beast?” Hans is about to break in, they don’t have time for this, but Henry has already agreed. Wojciech beams and claps Henry on his horse shoulder.
Breaking down a whale is a labor intense endeavour that seems to take half the village. It’s also grizzly and smelly, so Hans keeps his distance. After gutting the creature and dragging the innards into the sea, they start breaking down the animal. Long, heavy knives come out to cut the hide into strips. Henry is tasked with dragging a sickle like knife with a long handle down its side so it can be cut into more manage squares. How someone would do it without the strength of a centaur is beyond him. The flesh is brought over to a fire with a massive cauldron, where the hide is cut into even smaller bits and rendered for oil.
“Would you like a rind?” An elderly woman has snuck up to his side. In a piece of cloth, she’s holding something dark. Hans takes the piece. It is still hot from the cauldron.
“What do you do with it?” It’s thick. The outer side is bubbled, and the underside, where the flesh would be, is off white. It smells.
“You eat it, of course!” she says merrily, like she is talking to a child. Hans does not want to be impolite to a grandma. So he carefully takes a bite. It’s thick, but crunchy like the skin of a pig after roasting. Fat flows when he chews it. He hums and carefully takes another bite. The old lady smiles in a knowing way and hands him a couple more pieces before going back to the cauldron.
He continues to snack as the process proceeds. They are down to meat that they leave for the birds. Bones are sawed off until only the spine is left. Everything is carefully transferred to carts so they can take it back to the village. People start packing up. Henry comes trotting over, whipping sweat off his forehead but smiling.
“Did you have fun?” Hans drawls.
“Loads. I also had a good talk with the locals. Małgorzata will take us in for a couple of nights." Hans looks questioningly at him. They haven't talked about a couple of nights. What would they even be doing for that long?
“You wanted to ride along the beach? It would be a shame to do it in this weather. And maybe if we stick around long enough, we get to see mermaids.” Henry is giving him such an excited grin, and Hans might be bored and freezing, but this is the Henry he has been missing, and he can do nothing else but go soft.
“Good Man.” He says and hands him a piece of rind. Henry looks down at it in confusion. Hans mimes taking a bite, and Henry does. He looks wondrous at Hans and scarfs down the rest of it as Hans looks on in satisfaction. He hands him the last piece and brushes his hands off on his hose.