by Jeff Gunzel
The sailors exploded into action and began scampering about the deck. Multiple sails along the three masts fell at different levels as men climbed up and pulled loose the leather cords holding them. White, billowy puffs of flax canvas seemed to inflate instantly in the rolling sea winds. One of the men pulled out a fiddle and began to play as the others sang along. An old tune about a long-lost lover filled the night air as the men kept working.
Najus stalked over to the group as his sturdy black leather boots thumped hard with every step. With his shoulders rolled back and his head held high and level, it was clear that confidence was not something he lacked. His gold and silver hoops twinkled in the moonlight as his baggy pants fluttered in the mild rolling breeze. With his hands planted firmly on his hips, he eyed them up and down. His confident grin more than matched his stance. “I hope you are all thick-skinned enough to understand why I referred to you the way I did.”
“So you didn’t really mean it when you called us nothing more than cargo?” said Athel sarcastically, her silver teeth catching a good deal of the moonlight as well.
“Of course I did,” he laughed while throwing back his head. “That’s all you are to me anyway; just another payday, and a big one at that.” His smile grew as he rubbed his hands together. “True, the Queen of Taron seems to believe you kids are quite a bit more than that. I simply don’t see it that way. But no matter, such opinions have nothing to do with whether or not I get paid. My lack of curiosity in such matters has kept me in this business for many years.”
Jacob began to protest before Eric cut him off. “Fair enough,” he said over Jacob’s complaints. “How you run your business is no one else’s concern. As long as you do what you were paid to do, I have no complaints.” Eric folded his arms over his chest. “So we are in agreement, then? As long as you get us where we are going, we will stay out of your way and not question your methods.”
The captain stood in silence for a moment, his sharp, chiseled features shadowed in the moonlight. Frayed hair that had escaped his ponytail flipped up and down with the cool breeze as he tapped his chin with a single finger. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the cool ocean air. At length he finally opened his eyes. “Now that’s what I like to see. Agreeable cargo.”
Chapter 5
Even though the four of them had to sleep together in a single room below deck, none felt any urge to complain, seeing as how all the other men were forced to share the remaining two. The lucky ones got hammocks, while the rest spread out on the hard wooden floors. And of course Najus had a small room to himself. It was not uncommon at all for one or more to drag a sleeping roll to the upper deck and find a spot all to themselves. Even Jacob had considered it more than once. Not that he minded sharing a room with his close friends; he just liked the idea of sleeping out under the stars. Other than for the shelter from the wind, the rooms down below were really no warmer than being up top.
The seamen went about their daily routines as always while the four of them did their best to stay out of the way. The daily meals had even become a mild source of entertainment, given the constant boredom. Certainly not the food itself was the entertainment; dried jerky and stale bread made up the bulk of all three meals. Once in a while Najus would ration out handfuls of nuts and raisins just so the men had something to look forward to. Watching the men fight amongst themselves proved to be most amusing. The four companions watched from their private table as the constant arguments almost always erupted into violence. Predictably, Najus was there in a flash before it got out of hand. It never went any farther than that, seeing as how no one wanted to break rule number one.
Nights were usually spent up on the deck, peering out over the water. The four friends would watch the rolling waves crash against the side of the boat as it bobbed up and down to the rhythm of the sea. Although the scenery never changed much, it seemed better than locking themselves in their small room and staring at the walls.
Sparse clouds failed at hiding the moon as they drifted across the starry sky. A light breeze with a salty tang was a constant reminder they had left land far behind. Eric and Jade leaned against the rail while facing off to the north. Although there was little difference in view, this particular spot on the deck had become a favorite, a private spot they could call their own. The breaking waves didn’t look much different than any other day, but they still watched intently as they rolled along. They held hands while Jade leaned her head against his broad shoulder. “How many more days, do you think?” There was no reason to be any more specific than that.
He took his time before finally answering, “I know everyone’s getting impatient. These aren’t exactly grand living arrangements. But to be honest, I don’t really care how long it takes.” He wrapped his arm around her while watching wave after wave break apart in a burst of white foam. “I know what’s expected of me, and I’ve sworn on my life to uphold that duty. But for now—for now I just want to be normal like anyone else. No prophecies...no duties or endless sacrifices...for now I’m just a simple blacksmith.”
She smiled warmly as she looked into his eyes; eyes that were weary with duty, obligation, responsibility...and pain. She smiled even though it hurt her to see him like that. She smiled to give him strength. “If that is your only wish...consider it granted. For now you have no ties to anything other than to me. You are no more than the man I love.”
Jacob and Athel sat at their usual table down below. Two of the crewmembers sat at the opposite table talking amongst themselves, but were clearly eyeing the two companions as they did. Jacob seemed to be finding far too much joy in rolling a black marble back and forth across the table. Try as she might, Athel couldn’t resist following it back and forth with her eyes. She shook her head to try and snap out of the trance as her beaded hair rattled away. “You can’t possibly tell me you’re enjoying that,” she said, sounding a bit annoyed even though her tight grin said otherwise.
“I assure you I’m enjoying my game just as much as you are. You think I don’t know what you’re thinking? You’re jealous because I’ve found such a wonderful source of entertainment, and you want to try and snatch it away from me the first chance you get!”
She roared with laughter. “I want to snatch it away because you won’t stop annoying me with it.”
He raised an eyebrow while looking at her sideways. “You want to know the truth? It helps to distract me.” Athel’s nose crinkled up in confusion. “It distracts me from your beauty.” Jacob held the marble up between two fingers. “With this, I at least have a small chance of resisting your spell.”
Athel flashed a huge grin just before burying her face in both hands and dropping her head down to the table. Jacob just rubbed her back in circles while beckoning her to come out of her hiding. Eventually she did, but her grin was long gone. She actually looked a bit sad with her shoulders slumped and thick braids drooping over her green eyes. In a dejected voice that matched her look, she said, “Why do you keep teasing me like that?”
“Like what?” he asked as he leaned in close, placing his hand on her knee.
“Like that!” she said, sharply jerking her knee and flinging his hand away. “Why do you keep making me feel that way? I know you don’t think I’m pretty.”
“Athel, that’s not true at all. I think you’re very—”
He was interrupted by the forced sound of someone nearby clearing his throat. They hadn’t even noticed the two men stroll up from behind. “Pardon our intrusion,” said the thin man to the left as he dropped into a taunting bow. His skin was so sun-darkened he looked like a piece of leather with eyes. “My colleague and I were having a discussion about your little...group. Perhaps you could answer a question that’s been eating away at us for some time.”
Jacob didn’t care much for the direction this little chat was moving, not to mention he was a bit annoyed at having his own conversation interrupted. He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, not even bothering to s
tand up. “Ask, but be quick about it,” he said, sounding very irritated. “No doubt I won’t have an answer that will satisfy either of you.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” said the other man with his thick arms folded across his massive chest. His long black beard was so thick it didn’t even seem like he had a mouth, just greasy hair jittering with words coming out. “We was just wondering why ye be traveling with a krinin.” His eyes moved toward Athel as he spoke. Jacob spun around in his chair, completely confused by the slang term he had never heard before. His confusion was certainly not shared by Athel, who suddenly slammed both hands on the table and hissed like a snake, her silver teeth fully exposed.
Jacob leapt to his feet while holding an open hand out toward her, hoping she would stay seated and let him handle this. Even standing, he had to look up just to lock eyes with this mountain of a man. “First of all, my friend has a name, and you will use it every time you address her from this day forward. And second,” his eyes narrowed dangerously as he whispered, “you will never address her again. Are we clear?” The man never even had the chance to answer.
The kicked table shattered as pieces went flying into the wall, wooden splinters showering the area. When Jacob turned to calm the enraged warrior, the large man took full advantage. A jarring right hook sent him sprawling across the floor. The big man turned back only to see his companion take a hard roundhouse kick to his lower jaw. With a loud “crack” it bent grotesquely to the side and simply froze that way. His eyes rolled up into his head as he limply folded to the floor like a wet cloth. Athel wasted no time in rolling across the floor away from the big man, expecting him to charge in, but realized the maneuver had been unnecessary when she leapt back to her feet and turned toward him. He hadn’t moved an inch.
Knowing his chance at a surprise attack had come and gone he rushed at her anyway. After all, she was just a girl. He threw a powerful but slow overhand right, which she easily ducked under. Dropping down low, she sent a tornado-like leg sweep directly at his calf. Any normal-sized man would have been flat on his back after the hard shot, but she had underestimated the man’s girth, as he buckled a little but didn’t fall.
With her leg extended out and completely exposed, the man simply dropped his knee down with all his weight behind it. She cried out as searing hot pain shot through her calf, but only paused a moment before sending a series of hard kicks with her good leg to the side of his head. Her leg hurt badly, but the pain would have to wait. The first hard kick made the giant go limp. The next five served only to roll the already unconscious man off her leg.
The enraged warrior crawled on top of the unconscious man, ignoring the burning in her leg. She couldn’t control the anger flowing through her as she drove her head down into his face. Again. Then again. Then again. The cracking sound of teeth crunching soon became a hollow thudding as there became less and less to break. Her face reddened as bits and pieces of broken teeth embedded themselves in her forehead. Her beaded braids whipped up and down savagely as the onslaught continued, still driving her down over and over.
Suddenly her whole body jolted as she was tackled from the side, sending her rolling across the floor with her assailant locked onto her. She reached towards his face, scratching and clawing in an uncontrollable blood rage. “Stop! Stop!” cried Jacob as he frantically grabbed at her wrists. He kept his full weight on top of her, hoping to somehow keep the warrior subdued.
She suddenly stopped; the rage drifting away as her eyes slowly came back into focus. Jacob still wouldn’t let go of her wrists even though she was no longer fighting him. They looked at each other for a long time, neither one moving a muscle. Her face was covered with blood, and several small pieces of white teeth were still embedded in her forehead. Jacob had a large welt forming on his temple from where he had been struck, but was now also covered with fresh scratches from Athel.
Her forehead crinkled as her lower lip began to quiver. Bright green eyes released a flood of tears that streamed past her temples and back into her hair. She reached up and grabbed Jacob around his neck, pulling him down to her, and then buried her face in his shirt, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she repeated over and over again.
“Shhh...shhh, it’s OK now,” Jacob whispered as he stroked the back of her hair. Loud clopping footsteps came running down the stairs. He kept her head pinned to his chest as the room began to fill with one shocked face after another. She was in no shape to try and explain any of this, so he just held her close as his mind raced. How am I supposed to explain this? I’m not sure I really understand it myself.
A tall, thin fellow wearing a red bandana ran straight to the big man, who could only be recognized by his large body. He began to shake the obviously dead man, much to the dismay of all in the room. “Samuel! Samuel!” he called right into what used to be a face as many groaned and turned away. Couldn’t he see the man was dead? Denial was often more powerful than logic.
“What the bloody hell is going on down here?” bellowed Najus as he elbowed his way through the stunned group. When he approached the bloody scene, he dropped his hands and let out a sigh. The man with the broken jaw was just starting to come to. It was obvious he was hurt badly, but was still alive. His eyes bounced back and forth between the two victims before settling on Jacob. His face remained unreadable as he patiently waited for someone to say something. Anything.
“These two men started the whole thing. They insulted Athel for no damn reason at all,” said Jacob while continuing to comfort her. Athel’s sobs were now reduced to light moans as her face remained buried in his shirt. She clung to him, not daring to look up. Jacob motioned over to the dead man, “That coward hit me in the side of the head when I wasn’t looking. He even managed to put me out for a minute or two.” Jacob winced the second the last word left his mouth. He had never meant to reveal that much. You fool!
Najus’s calm expression hardly changed at all. One could only imagine the things he’d seen during his many years of service. He started to pace around, thinking hard with a hand covering his mouth, and then spreading two fingers open as he spoke through them. “So this man was killed in cold blood because they insulted your little girlfriend here?” Jacob began to protest, but Najus spoke right over him. “And we know you were taken out of the fight early, seeing as how you’ve already admitted as such, which only leaves her.” He pointed straight at Athel.
The man with the broken jaw had no way of assembling actual words, but he nodded agreement along with Najus’s assessment while pointing at her, his urgent moans as clear as any accusation. “So then, what do we do with her?” Najus asked as he turned around to face the other men. Hundreds of sadistic ideas seemed to fill the air in an angry vocal explosion. There were calls to hang her, blind her, and even a few calls to cut off her limbs, but the vast majority made a special effort to remind him of the speech he made when this journey first began.
He turned back to face the trembling girl once more. She was now on her feet, with Jacob standing protectively in front of her. “Well, my dear lady,” he said in a voice that was far too calm, “it seems that within the hour we will all have a better idea...of how good a swimmer you are.” Cheers rose up like a storm as swords pumped up and down in the air.
Eric stepped directly in front of the captain, his dark eyes blazing but his face remaining deathly calm. He hissed in a soft dangerous tone, “I’m fully aware that you are a cold, calculating man. I’ve no doubt you would sell your own family members if it meant a little extra coin found its way into your pocket. So I won’t even bother pointing out how sick and demented your sense of justice is.” When Najus looked away for a second, Eric reached out and turned the man’s cheek so they were face to face once more. A shocked gasp filled the room. “Don’t turn away from me when I’m speaking to you.” His face was calm and his voice steady. “You clearly have no morals to speak of, so let’s talk business. Your contract depends on the four of us arriving in Shangti.
Not three. Even if you have no understanding of morality, you still understand business. No?”
“Stupid boy,” the man whispered harshly. Having a private conversation in a small room full of people proved to be more than difficult, but he spoke as softly as he could. “You think I don’t know that? What would you have me do?” He spared a quick glance toward the men, most of whom were wearing wicked grins. “These men are not here because of their values or loyalty. Their skills at sea are second to none, but they must be controlled. Violence is the one primal instinct that every man responds to.” He gripped Eric by the collar. “Don’t you see? There will be a mutiny if your friend doesn’t die for what she’s done. I can’t show any weakness, or it will be me at the bottom of the sea, and I’m not dying for any of you!” He shoved Eric back and turned back toward the men. In a clear, booming voice, he said, “It seems as though the dark sea will be opening her watery hands to receive a gift. Prepare the whore!”
Najus was no fool. The truth of his words cut through Eric like a sword. The verdict had not been personal; it was the only course of action the man could take. Eric’s mind swirled with emotion. Desperation. Panic. Time crept along like cold tree sap as his eyes swept the room. Athel was on her knees with her head hung low, clearly beaten and resigned to her fate. Jade and Jacob’s faces were masked with horror as their eyes begged him to do something. The cheers of the men could be heard as their toothless mouths seemed to work in slow motion. Hundreds of different scenarios along with their probable outcomes flashed through his mind like streaks of light. Too many, can’t take them all. Can’t show weakness. Animals...can’t be reasoned with. Must...must beat them at their own game. By the Gods...Athel...forgive me! The farm boy from Bryer knew the last of his innocence was about to die.
“Yes, prepare the whore,” he shouted. Stunned faces spun toward him as murmured whispering quickly filled the small room. In three strides he was on Athel, who never so much as flinched. Reaching down angrily, he grabbed a fistful of beaded hair and snapped her head back violently.
