The rain had lessened to a light drizzle that pattered against her hull, and the Vesper’s pitch told Duglin that they were riding through moderate swells as he lay in his hammock. It was nighttime, and he was alone in the hold with his arm in a sling. His shoulder throbbed painfully but he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that the others were out there manning the ship while he was lying here below decks. The ship had pulled away from the storm and was now running before it. They weren’t out of danger yet, but the worst was over.
The rear of the ship had been partitioned by movable panels into a pair of cabins. Elran emerged from the one he shared with his sister carrying a concoction in a small bowl. He noticed Duglin staring at him and nodded in acknowledgement before entering the one Marsel shared with Tash. Traditionally, the ship’s doctor and the pilot would have cabins to themselves, but the siblings agreed to share so that the other two women on board wouldn’t have to berth with the men.
“How is she?” Duglin asked when the doctor reappeared a few minutes later. Fultern had reacted with superhuman speed and caught Marsel just as she was about to fall overboard.
“She’s conscious, and she knows where she is and can speak clearly,” he replied as he approached the boy. “All good signs. Now, how are you?”
Duglin winced as he attempted to sit up. “It’s my shoulder.”
“It was dislocated,” Elran said as he helped the boy up. Duglin winced again as the doctor prodded at it with his slender fingers. “It will heal in time, though I fear that it will dislocate more easily in future.”
“Will that make it harder for me to work as a sailor?” Duglin asked worriedly.
“It might,” Elran allowed. “But if you take the proper precautions, it shouldn’t be more than a minor inconvenience.”
“That’s good, thank you, doctor,” Duglin breathed. He had seen far too many former sailors on shore, crippled for life and unable to provide for themselves thanks to injuries suffered under seemingly innocuous circumstances.
Elran lifted the boy’s tunic and frowned at the scar on his back. It was the only sign that remained of where the branch had pierced through. “I must admit, I’m more puzzled by this. It looks like it was a shocking wound.”
“Oh, it happened when I was younger,” Duglin lied, hoping he sounded convincing.
“I would have expected long term damage from a scar of this size,” the doctor said as he touched Duglin’s back. “How remarkable… I’m surprised no one noticed this before.”
“How is she, doctor?” Tash asked as she descended the stairs breathlessly.
“She’s fine,” Elran replied. “She’s resting in her room…”
The doctor frowned. “Does your being down here mean we’re clear of the storm?”
“It looks like it’s blown over,” Tash replied. “The Captain wants to hold a meeting down here. He wants all hands assembled.”
“Oh that’s right, his cabin has been taken over,” Elran said after a moment’s confusion. “All hands… well she needs her rest… both of them do, but if it’s a short meeting…”
Tash made a face. “From the Captain’s tone, I don’t think he was asking.”
“I’ll help you get things ready,” Elran offered.
“Thanks, doctor, but your sister needs you to fetch her charts,” Tash said. “The Captain wants to know precisely where we are after all that excitement.”
“I can help,” Duglin offered and winced as he tried to climb out of his hammock.
Tash gently pushed him back into a lying position and shook her head. “I can do it alone. The pilot will need some time to get our bearings anyway.”
It took around half an hour for the crew to begin trickling down from above decks by which time Tash had moved the panels and set out the great table. Chairs and drinks for nine were set out and lanterns were lit. Soon, everyone except for Fultern and the Captain was assembled. The crew looked exhausted from battling the storm as they stood around the table except for Raimala, who sat down straight away to scribble calculations on a scrap of paper and Marsel, who had remained in her hammock under the doctor’s orders. The atmosphere was tense, and no one spoke while they waited for the Captain to arrive.
At length, Firch descended the stairs, and the tension in the room seemed to increase. He seated himself at the head of the table and the others followed suit.
“We encountered a dangerous situation, but we came through it admirably,” the Captain began. “Pilot, do you have an idea of where we are?”
“A rough one,” she said without looking up from her notes. “My calculations place us roughly sixty nautical miles south southwest of Jerning.”
“So we’ve covered over a day’s worth of sailing in eight hours,” Firch nodded. “A good start.”
“But at what cost, Captain?” Tash blurted.
The muscular woman shrank back when the Captain levelled his piercing gaze on her. “It was a risk, but one that was worth taking. Life at sea is dangerous…”
Tash would not be cowed, though and blurted. “The first mate was right. We should have sheltered for the night. The risk was too great, and we came a hairsbreadth from sinking!”Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Does anyone else share her opinion?” Firch’s voice was low and dangerous.
At length, Raimala and Elran raised their hands. The pilot was the first to speak. “It was very risky, Captain, and we’re lucky to have emerged with only a torn headsail and two crew injured.”
“No, Tash, it’s fine…” Marsel protested feebly.
“It wasn’t fine!” Tash cried. “You were nearly washed overboard.”
“Have all of you forgotten what’s at stake here?” Firch asked. “If we can’t sell our cargo, I get a brand and no one in the Viridian Sea will give us work.”
“Captain, we can find other work if selling our cargo doesn’t work out,” Elran protested and fell silent when he saw that Firch had closed his right fist into a tight ball.
The Captain looked at each of his crew in turn. “If your Captain ends up with a brand, what will become of the lot of you? Who else will take the branded, those who conceal their face, and women onto their crew?”
Tash and the siblings lowered their heads.
“I’ve taken you all in because you are good at your jobs but are unhireable through no faults of your own,” Firch continued. “What I need you to understand is that makes it difficult for me to find work. We complete the jobs we get because we don’t know if there will be others.”
Firch paused and looked at each of his crew in turn before continuing. “I will continue to take risks to get us there as quickly as humanly possible because if we don’t beat that Imperial ship to our destination, it could well mean the end for me and this crew. Do you understand?”
“Yes Captain,” they murmured.
Firch sighed and with some effort unclenched his fist. “We’ll be passing by an island called Thilbury in a day or two. It’s little more than a small farming community, but there are people there who will welcome an able body or two. Now, I can’t promise there won’t be more dangers ahead if you stay on board my ship, and none of you except for Duglin are under contract, so, I can drop off anyone who isn’t willing to face them with me…”
The Captain’s voice trailed off and he stared into the distance. At length, Inder asked. “Any takers?”
“Good,” Firch said when there were none, and turned to Marsel. “When you are fit, I need you to work on repairing the sails.”
“I’ll get on it in the morning, Captain,” she promised.
“Good.” Firch nodded and turned to his pilot. “Have you gone over the charts Derning gave you?”
“In what little time I had,” Raimala said. “I wouldn’t call them charts, though… more like vague instructions.”
“Have you heard of the Murkwater Archipelago?” he ventured.
The dark skinned young woman frowned and shook her head. “Only in passing mention…”
“That’s because it’s a dangerous place,” Inder remarked. “And those brave enough to explore it and live to tell the tale reported finding nothing of note there. Just uninhabited islands.”
“Until now,” Firch said.
“A silver mine,” Bardrick grunted and shook his head. “Some people have all the luck.”
“I don’t mean to sound negative all the time,” Tash began. “But what makes the Murkwater so dangerous? It’s so steeped in myth that it’s hard to separate fact from fiction.”
Firch glanced at his first mate, who scratched the back of his head before answering. “Well, I knew a man… third mate on a surveying ship he was.”
Inder paused to take a sip of grog from one of the mugs Tash had laid out for everyone before continuing. “He said the sea was murky and gave off the stench of rotting eggs. Nothing could live in it, and a persistent mist made navigation difficult. They stopped at the first island they came across, found nothing but trees, and left as quickly as they could.”
“So navigation through conventional means will be difficult,” Firch mused. “Pilot, it sounds like you have your work cut out for you. Are you up to the task?”
“An uncharted sea that poses unique navigational challenges,” Elran remarked. “Little sister, it sounds like precisely the thing you came out here to find.”
Raimala beamed broadly. “Yes, it is. Captain. By my estimates, we have two days until we sight what your friend described as the first beacon. I’ll spend every waking moment pouring over his notes until then.”
“As for the rest of you, the storm took its toll on our ship, make no mistake,” Firch said. “And I want her in the best possible condition to face the Murkwater.”
“Aye, Captain,” Inder said tiredly as shoulders slumped around the table.
“However, I’m also aware that the storm has taken its toll on all of us,” Firch continued. “So work will begin in earnest in the morning. Mister Inder, draw up the watches. Make sure everyone is well rested by morning.”
“Aye Captain,” the first mate said, sounding more buoyant this time.
“If I may,” Duglin said. “I’d like to take first watch. I’ve been sleeping for most of the day and I’m sure everyone could use the rest.”
“That’s mighty generous of you, boy,” Bardrick said before reaching over and tousling Duglin’s hair with a meaty hand.
“Any objections, Pilot?” Firch ventured.
Raimala shook her head. “The seas have calmed, and we are in open seas… There shouldn’t be any problems so long as we’re diligent with log keeping.”
“Alright then,” Firch said with a tired sigh. “Go up and relieve Fultern. As for the rest of you, get some sleep. Captain’s orders.”
“Aye, Captain,” the others said in unison.
The atmosphere was stifling with everyone gathered below decks, and Duglin took a moment to savour the cool night air once he climbed out of the hold. Stars twinkled in a clear sky overhead. Duglin looked around and saw that Fultern was on the quarterdeck instead of his usual perch on the prow.
“I’m here to relieve you,” he announced as he climbed the stairs leading to the quarterdeck.
Fultern grunted an acknowledgement as he scribbled an entry into the ship’s log without looking up. Behind him, a rope was threaded through the ship’s wheel to keep her course steady. Once he had finished the entry, the swordsman turned an hourglass upside down and raised his head to look at Duglin.
“I’ve just made an entry,” he said and tapped on the binnacle, inviting Duglin to take a look.
Inside, was the ship’s compass, set on a gimbal, and a small lantern for light.
“Make a note of our heading and speed in the log every hour,” he said. “If it deviates by more than twenty degrees, note it down and then wake the pilot up.”
“I know how to keep watch,” Duglin assured him
The swordsman nodded. “Good night, Duglin.”
“Good night.”
Instead of heading below decks, Fultern walked to the prow and fell asleep sitting with his back against a gunwale and with his sword across his lap. Now alone on the quarterdeck, Duglin looked out into the pitch darkness and wondered what could be lurking unseen out there. His imagination soon got the best of him and his skin began to crawl.
“It’s times like these when we realize how alone we truly are out here, isn’t it?”
Duglin nearly jumped out of his skin and whirled around to see the witch hunter standing at the door to the Captain’s cabin. The boy was disquieted by the sight of Kerma standing by his side, bound, gagged and blindfolded. Andar followed his gaze and frowned. “I understand she shared a bit of an adventure with you and another. Would you care to share your experience?”
“Well, the Captain did say I was permitted a daily excursion outside his cabin,” Andar pointed out. “He appears to have forgotten about today in light of the storm.”
“You… I should summon him first…” Duglin began as a wave of nausea engulfed him.
“The Captain looked exhausted when I saw him through the window,” Andar said sweetly as he climbed up to the quarterdeck with Kerma in tow. “You should let him have his rest. In the meantime, you and I could have a little chat about your adventure.”
The witch hunter was now standing at the top of the stairs, blocking off Duglin’s only path of escape. “I can smell her stench on you. Tell me, did she cast a spell on you?”