by Rick Johnson
When I return, we can go on to the Rounds as we plan—I can’t wait to see my friends there again. But, first, my conscience calls me to help these unfortunate sea-beasts. I know what danger they are in.
So, you see how it is. I feel heartsick to leave you and I hope that you understand. I almost fear that I love you so well that I will not be able to do what justice demands me to do—
I shall say no more to worry you, adding only that I send you my love and the promise to see you soon.
I will always be,
Your most affectionate,
Helga
Finishing the letter, Breister folded it carefully and gave it back to Toshty. “Helga does not love so much that love blinds her to justice; nor hate injustice so deeply to be blinded to kindness. Yes, my daughter wrote that letter.”
Smiling at Toshty and Annie, Breister shook his head and continued, “I trust Helga and will allow her to do as she wishes with this—as if there were a thing I could do to stop her! But I’ll not leave her to face this danger alone and another carpenter will speed up the repairs. I will head across Dismal Pass myself and help her.”
“Annie and I will go with you!” Toshty cried. “We are brave beasts and,” he paused, smiling at his beloved Cougar, “Annie knows a thing or two about the ways of rogues and bandits! We are in this with you!”
“Yes,” Annie said, “we are in this with you. We are now an unbroken circle of friends.”
Book Three
Tokens of Unseen Realms
Wrackshees at the Outer Rings
“Crinoo! Zarr!” Red Whale cursed as a grim smile spread across his face. The dawn streaking the horizon cast a pale red glow, dimly revealing an ugly scene. Shattered masts, ruined sails, and tangled webs of riggings covered the deck of the old seafarer’s once impressive ship, Daring Dream. The ship had been virtually shaved clean of its masts and sails—as if a huge blade had sliced them off. Although the sturdy ship had survived battering from a ferocious storm during the night, Red Whale was left with little more than a raft. The complete wreckage of Daring Dream, however, could not deter his labored journey toward the prow. Despite the nearly mountainous obstacles, he climbed rapidly over the debris-strewn deck.
The dismal wreckage of his storm-battered vessel was of little interest to him now. Far away to the west, the magnificent starry sky—clear as the wind pushed the clouds off to the east—abruptly ended in a long jagged line that here and there soared skyward at sharp angles. Land! The outline of a landmass was unmistakable as a blank in the otherwise brilliant night heavens.
“Thar’t! Can ya see it, Fishbum? It be’s the Outer Rings! Sure ’n it can’t be none else!” Fishbum, the young Ship’s Lookout standing beside Red Whale, felt a brief tremble of fear ripple through his body. The dim outline of an island was, indeed, unmistakable against the remains of the starry night sky. Cap’t Red Whale’s happy excitement was understandable. It was what Red Whale did not see that sent shivers down Fishbum’s spine. Dozens of small boats propelled by hundreds of paddles rising and falling in a steady, urgent rhythm, were also faintly visible to Fishbum’s bleary, peering gaze. He sensed that the boats, soundlessly bearing down on Daring Dream, were not making a friendly visit. The high speed and silence of the approach, advancing in the dim light of early dawn, indicated a desire for surprise.
Although Fishbum feared an approaching attack, Captain “Red Whale” Gumberpott still gazed excitedly toward the horizon, seemingly oblivious to the boats. His tightly drawn face, however, belied worry that tinged his excitement. As he lumbered toward the prow, the flowing rolls of flab overhanging his belt rose and fell in rhythm with his heavy breathing. Between gasps of air, he spoke in a broken chain of frenzied commands:
“Crinoo! The Outer Rings...Zarr! They’re not real they said, but Lord Farseeker knew...Sharat! V’last that storming wild Ogress...thought we’d escaped it...unless we make land, we’ll be goners...not much fresh water left...V’last!”
Reaching the prow, Red Whale suddenly lunged toward the railing. Fishbum, fearing that Red Whale meant to dive over the side, grabbed at the captain’s coat. Pulling with all his strength, Fishbum slowed, but could not stop Red Whale’s advance. The captain’s massive belly squashed across the railing. Stopping with his body pitched halfway over the railing, Red Whale’s ranting subsided into an occasional muttered oath.
Abnormally tall and massive in girth, the giant Wolf had deep, bloodshot eyes. His strong bristly beard, dried to a scrub-brush finish, told of long weathering at sea. Leaning now, as far out over the railing as he could without falling over, he seemed to be straining, peering, frantic to see the island more clearly. “Mor’light! Mor’light! V’last the sun! Mor! Mor’light! I must see the Outer Rings! Sure ’n the Outer Rings be within my grasp!”
Red Whale seemingly took no note of the horde of boats drawing closer. Fishbum nervously realized that his nearly blind captain perhaps did not yet see them in the still dim light. Long years spent peering at faded charts by candlelight had robbed Red Whale of much his sight. He could see well enough to make out the dark bulky profile of a landmass against the brilliant sky, but could not yet make out the small dark boats fast approaching across a still dark sea.
“Fishbum, why are you sittin’ and waitin’ like a boot full o’ water? That’s Wrackshee boats comin’ hard at us or I’ll be fooled! Now, look lively, you! Push me over the side, then you follow! Quick like now! Be about it!” Red Whale puffed as the lumbered up over the rail, Fishbum pushing him at the rear. He paused just before plunging into the sea below. “Well, Mate, the only hope is for us to go over the side. Savin’ ourselves is the hope the others might have. If them swarming Wrackshees aim to take us, there be no hope for any of us if we stay here.”
Into the Voi-Nil
When Norayn “Red Whale” Gumberpott set sail six months before in search of the Outer Rings, he bore a royal commission from the Lord Lynx Farseeker. A Voyager Wolf at the Court of the Lord Lynx, Red Whale knew the legends of the Outer Rings—said to be numberless islands somewhere along the unexplored fringes of the Great Sea. Most scoffed at stories about the islands and the fabulous riches they were said to contain. Lord Farseeker, however, was not a scoffer.
The Lord Lynx was a listener, a quester, a hoper—a lover of what might be. His eye forever looked toward the far horizon. He surrounded himself with chart makers, ship captains, astronomers, and storytellers; anyone who had something new to say about the Voi-Nil—the vast blank spaces on his charts. “Far better to listen to a storyteller with a gleam in his eye, even though he be a liar, than to a fool who has never had an idea!” he would say. There was nothing to rival the Lord Farseeker’s capacity to listen to the stories of explorers and adventurers who had ventured past the edge of the known lands.
He delighted in the accounts of brave explorers who pushed back the edges of the Voi-Nil. Many an explorer had spent a pleasant evening in the witty and stimulating company of Lord Farseeker, awash in Devil’s Stout Cheer and surrounded by heaping plates of Blaze-Fired Pike, Nine-Chocolate Tortes, and crispy Pecan Frits. The Lynx Lord had no equal as a lively host, but his greatest reputation came as a recorder of adventurer’s tales. New discoveries, wild tales of sea monsters and fantastic lands, guesses as to what might lie deeper within the Voi-Nil—nothing was excluded from the conversation, scribes noting down every word. Many a night the lamps burned late in Lord Farseeker’s quarters as he studied recent reports and pondered new guesses about the Voi-Nil.
When Lord Farseeker found another creature with the spirit of a quester, hoper, and lover of what might be—Ah, delight! And in Norayn Gumberpott he had long nurtured such a yearning adventurer. Born aboard ship, son of the legendary Admiral Salt Wolf Mis’treen and her husband Sir Master Long Arms Gumberpott, Norayn was true stock of his parents. Active, restless, and resolute, he was filled with an irresistible thirst for adventure. For twenty-five years he had sailed with his parents on the great trading galley, Velvet
Bird, learning the ways of the sea. Sailing on some of the most celebrated voyages recorded in Lord Farseeker’s annals, he traveled all the known seas first as a rising sea-beast, then for thirty years as master of his own ship. Sailing the most difficult seas, he honed his seafaring skills and learned the ways of many lands. When Lord Farseeker was ready to send explorers deep into the Voi-Nil—seeking the Outer Rings—the burly, mountain-sized Wolf was perfectly suited to command the voyage.
On that fateful day, which, in the end would spell the doom of Lord Farseeker’s realm—and bring many more untidy disturbances to lands and beasts far distant—no hint of future perils was present. A brilliant sun laid a carpet of dazzling diamonds across the calm sea. Favorable breezes softly ruffled the sails of the Daring Dream—the fine ship Lord Farseeker had fitted out for Norayn’s command.
Standing beside the dock, watching Captain Gumberpott giving final orders to make the Daring Dream ready for departure, Lord Farseeker exulted. The spirit of quest shining in his captain’s face was exactly what was needed: noble, loyal, and honorable—yet with the gleam of an old sea-salt’s devil-may-care courage. The Lord Lynx knew that his captain would not turn back at the first sign of trouble.
Indeed, if ever there was an explorer born for Lord Farseeker’s task, it was Red Whale. His success in recruiting a crew for the Daring Dream was itself proof of this. Red Whale knew that no sea-beast was anxious to sail into the Voi-Nil, what with horrific tales being all that was known of it. He had heard many such a story: “Ay’t! Only a fool would sail into the Voi-Nil. It’s naught but death for a sea-beast. Giant, hideous sea-serpents lurk there—and they’s suck the pegs right out of the hulls of ships! Then they’s suck the boots and clothes right off any poor sailor as tries to swim for his life. Then they’s slowly suck that poor sailor straight down their throats like a screaming piece of noodle—that is, if that poor, wretched soul ain’t dead of fright already! That be the Voi-Nil.”
But Red Whale had told a different tale in the weeks before Daring Dream cast off for its voyage. Echoing through the taverns and scrogging halls his laughter crackled with the love for adventure and the thrill of new lands to be discovered. “Now hear me out you weak-gutted, flea-picking, slobber-sippers!” he laughed when sailors fearfully spoke of the Voi-Nil—of sea monsters or places where the ocean burned with fire.
“Did you ever taste the honey-sweet Wizta Melon?” he asked. “Or scoop the luscious meat out of the tail of a roasted Glazonga Lizard? Or drink Lime Crème from an ice cup fresh made just for you? Then come along with me. Or if you like cold snake guts and watery gruel,2 stay here. Looking around, I see lots of sailors with nothing to do—how many days of snake guts and gruel before you get a ship again? Come with me! I’m going where there’s languages you never heard. Places you never saw. Wonders you never dreamed of. And maybe riches you can’t have any other way! So, says I, come along with me!”
And so it went in the weeks before Daring Dream set sail. Each morning, even as the damp night fog still swirled in the alleyways and docks, Red Whale was at his work. Searching the narrow streets and taverns for a crew, he swilled bubbly Spark ’n Pots with likely sea-beasts, tossed blazing hot scrog pins by the dozen to leave no doubt of his fearlessness, and cheered new recruits with coins the Lord Lynx provided for the purpose. No one could miss Red Whale as he went about his recruiting. Every sea-beast’s hangout rang with his roaring good humor and even the most seasoned sea-beast took note of his outlandish dress.
Going about like a gilded sovereign, the massive bearded Wolf, sea-weathered and sun-bronzed, bedecked with fabulous jewelry and fine silks, used all his swagger to impress potential crew. Leaving nothing to chance, the Lord Farseeker fitted out a sturdy ship, provisioned it well, and gave Captain Gumberpott worthy means to attract a favorable crew. And it worked. Common sea-beasts and tough old salts readily signed on to sail aboard Daring Dream.
Seeker’s Keep, the fine port of Lord Farseeker’s realm, had long been a magnet for all sorts of seafarers. “Every beast in Seeker’s Keep is either a sea-beast, or a landlubber disguised as one!”—so the saying went. Dashing swashbucklers and humble fisher-beasts, roguish rebels and fine-mannered merchants. Any beast with an interest in the sea found his way to Seeker’s Keep at one time of another. And this explosion of sea-beast flavors suited Lord Farseeker’s plans very well. Seeker’s Keep was a marvelous place to recruit a crew—with the proper means.
Giving Red Whale a velvet bag full of heavy gold earrings, the Lord Lynx said, “Daring Dream is a ship of promise. Every beast aboard must be a seeker of good fortunes—but a ship has only hopes until good fortune is found. Hang one gold ring in the ear of every one of your crew. That will be my own good fortune going with each beast until he finds his own.”
With such terms and tactics Red Whale attracted a worthy crew. But more than swagger, coins and rings, and promise of adventure, Captain Gumberpott knew his sea-beasts. He knew what they loved and what they feared. He knew what they wanted in a captain and in a ship. He was a sea-beast’s captain—brave, wise, smart, and fair to every crew beast.
On the day Daring Dream set sail, the instructions given by Captain Gumberpott to his crew said it all: “Aboard this ship all beasts serve alike in both All’s-Well and danger, and all take the watch in fair wind and foul. No other port than we all reach it together. Pull our oars hard for each other, trim our sails to preserve each of us. After this, good food and drink, be careful with fire, and keep only to good rogues. But first and last be this: every ship’s beast deserves to live another day—I’ll not be waste’n my crew on fool’s chances!”
On the 3rd day after the summer calms ended and the fall fair winds returned, Lord Farseeker gave Captain Gumberpott his commission, “Aright it is and so you are ordered,” he said, “to voyage across the Great Sea in search of the Outer Rings, and there to trade with every kind of creature you may find, provided only you keep an exact journal of your voyage, giving full and accurate account of all you learn and discover, and bring hither the tenth part of the whole of whatever value you may glean.”
That Red Whale Gumberpott and Daring Dream would never be heard from again along that dock, nor in the taverns and scrogging halls, was then a story unknown. Now it begins.
Ice Fall Narrows
The last bit of land shown on Lord Farseeker’s maps before the Voi-Nil was a considerable, but barely noted, rugged island called Ice Fall Narrows. Uninhabited, except for a clan of hardy Otters who had discovered the island long ago, and stayed to make a life raising vegetables and smoking fish, it lay two month’s sailing from Seeker’s Keep.
Two months is a long time without landfall. Fresh water gone. Provisions wormy. Tempers ragged. To sail beyond two months without seeing land, sea-beasts must be strongly determined and suffer much. With years of sailing unknown seas under his belt and particular experience sailing the edge of the Voi-Nil, Red Whale was able to calm the mounting fears of his crew. “Look here mates, we’re a ship of lucky beasts. I’ve been to Ice Fall Narrows and we won’t be long getting there now. Two more good days of favoring winds and we’ll be seeing the ice cap of Smoking Bill.” Smoking Bill, a long-silent volcano that rose up from the sea, forming the island, trailed a perpetual cloud of steam from its summit. Rising several thousand feet above the sea, a snow and ice field forever covered Smoking Bill’s upper heights.
“Now, the first beast as sees Smoking Bill and sings out, ‘Land!’—that beast will be the first one ashore when we drop anchor,” Red Whale continued. The crew hardly slept after that. Off duty sea-beasts crowded the rails, each wanting to be the first to sight Smoking Bill.
Sixty-three days into the voyage, Daring Dream was plowing forward under full sail when Katteo Jor’Dane sang out the long-awaited cry: “Land! Smoke three points off starboard!” “Aye, Cap’t—Smokin’ Bill just comin’ up over the horizon!” yelled Smits Howler from his lookout platform far up on the mast.
A tumult of cheers a
nd shouts broke out. “Huzzay! Aye’Mate! Halloo!” The ship’s musicians struck up all instruments—trumpets, tin drums, cymbals, and bagpipes. Red Whale, meanwhile, seemed uninterested in the jubilant celebration. Pulling a small spyglass from his coat pocket, he put it to his eye and scanned the horizon. For some minutes he continued to gaze through his telescope, moving it back and forth as he inspected various points on the horizon.
At last, satisfied that the identification of the long-anticipated island was correct, Captain Gumberpott lowered the spyglass. Slipping it back in his pocket, he turned to Fishbum. Shouting to be heard above the blaring, honking, clanging and yelling, Red Whale yelled in Fishbum’s ear: “Get a flash gourd from the explosives case and bring it up here. Be quick about it.”
Doing as he was told, Fishbum ran off and soon returned carrying one of the small gourds packed with highly-explosive grain dust. He handed it to Red Whale who, with a hearty chuckle, lit the fuse and watched it burn, smoking in his hand for several seconds. Then he drew back his arm and tossed the flash gourd with all his strength far out over the water. Fishbum and Red Whale watched the smoking fuse trace a long curving arc across the sky.
KA-BOOM! The deafening explosion set up a huge geyser of water that sprayed back across the deck. The crew’s celebration stopped instantly, all eyes turned to Red Whale. “There,” the captain began, “thank you for accepting my pleasant little invitation to pay attention! Listen well! Stop acting like landlubber shopkeepers who’ve drunk too much coffee! We’ve got serious business ahead! That will be all the partying for now. We’re not safe to the harbor yet. We have some real sweating to do—all paws to your oar posts! The current will tear us to pieces if we’re not about our wits!”
