The Finger of God: a Thalassia novel
Page 7
“Loosen your grip, lad.” Gralt had come up beside Hedric on the dusty street and the boy had never noticed. “If’n ye ever need it, yer hands will be numb.”
He looked down at the white knuckles of his hands gripping the stave. He almost heard the joints creak as he loosened his grip. “Thank you, Mister Gralt.” He felt his ears turning red, as the man chuckled.
Zebediah Gralt made sure that they did a thorough search. Not a building was left unentered, nor a street untrodden. In one house Hedric discovered the table still set, meals half eaten. The local tavern showed mugs of ale, half drunk. A desolate dust devil whirled down the main street, in air that smelled of old death. Horror began to build in the searchers. Prowling down a shadowed street, a movement caught Hedric’s eye, and he swung around, staff ready, already breathing heavily. A second form broke from a shadow, running swiftly toward him. At the last second he recognized Blue and Burn.
Hedric staggered as he caught twenty pounds of flying cat, and Burn put a gentle paw to his cheek.
“Ah, we have to go now, Mister Gralt.”
“What?” The big man stared down at the boy. “We ain’t checked but alf the city. We…”
“Please, Mister Gralt.” Hedric pleaded. “We have to go NOW. Trust me.”
The first mate stared at the young engineer. “Capin won’t be happy.”
“I’ll explain.” Hedric watched the rapidly dwindling cat shadows. “On board.”
Gralt made up his mind. “Back te the ship, lads. I think we seen enough.”
The last of the search party had just set foot on the welcoming deck, when the lookout shouted his warning. “A whole crowd of people coming, Capin. There’s…there be sumptin wrong with em.”
The Captain took one look at the crowd forming down the main street and began to shout orders. “Cast off all lines. Signal the engine room, AHEAD SLOW. Get us out of here, helmsman.”
Hedric looked up at the wheelhouse and saw Lexi turning the wheel for all she was worth. The ship started to creep forward, and the narrow slip of water between ship and pier grew wider. The crowd, composed of ragged underfed men, women and children came closer, in staggering, shuffling steps, never uttering a sound. They were covered with bleeding oozing sores, some of which would rupture occasionally, spattering those closest with contaminated filth.
Thirty-five feet separated the ship from the pier when the crowd reached the brink. They didn’t stop, but continued over the edge and into the water. The bodies thrashed for a moment or two, before they sank out of sight. The worst part was the children, some barely old enough to walk, staggering blindly over the edge of the wooden wharf. Soon, except for the steady thrum of the engine, the city of Treebeard was quiet again.
“Mister Swimming.” Hedric turned to find both the Captain and the first mate standing, arms crossed, scowling at him. “We would like to see you in my cabin. Right now.” Her voice brooked no argument.
“Yes, ma’am” His elation for saving the search party turned to ash in his mouth. He followed the two into the small cabin, and Gralt closed the door quietly behind him. He felt like a rabbit that had been trapped. “Uhhh, what can I do for you, Captain?” He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry.
“Tell us what happened out there in town.”
Hedric glanced first at the Captain, then at Gralt, and then back to the Captain. “I had an intuition, Captain. I knew that something bad was going to happen if we stayed.”
“And the actions of the cats?”
“The cats? Oh, the cats! They were just glad to see me, I guess, but they seemed scared of something; I guess that’s why they ran away. That’s what got me intuiting, I suppose.”
Gralt was nodding slowly. “God reached down and touched the boy, Captain. God saved us from those poor damned souls.”
“Perhaps, Mister Gralt. If you’re satisfied, I have a few more questions for young Master Swimming here.”
“Aye, Captain.” The big man rose, looking relieved. Silence descended into the small cabin after he left.
“Would you like to tell me what really happened?” Captain Isenhart was sitting behind her small desk, fingers steepled, staring, he felt, into his very soul. He thought about lying, but he just couldn’t do it.
“The cats told me. They told me there was a plague coming from which none would survive. They told me to flee. So I fled, and they were right.”
She leaned forward. “Tad, those are just animals. Not thinking beings.”
His smile was crooked. “Sorry, Captain. They may look like cats, but they are as intelligent as you or I. The big male’s name is Blue, and his mate is Burn. They talk by touching me with either a paw or nose.”
She sat for a long time, just looking at him. “I wonder, sometimes, if it was such a good idea to take you into my crew.”
Hedric was getting angry now. “If you hadn’t, your engine might or might not still be working, and you would have lost your search party and maybe the entire boat to the mob in Treebeard. If you don’t want me aboard, then just say so.” He stood up, fire in his eyes, ready to leave.
“Oh sit down.” Isenhart chuckled dryly. “I was wondering if there was some spirit under that carefully controlled exterior. I thought for a moment I’d have to pick you up and shake it loose.”
“You wanted me to blow up?”
“Obviously. I can’t really trust a crewman unless I know what he’ll do when he gets mad.” She smiled and sat back. “You still thought clearly, although you were mad. Now you’re going to tell me everything. Let’s start with your life before the airship, and move on from there.”
“But, that will take a while. My engines…”
“Doander and Simms will run the engines while the chief engineer is away.” His eyes widened at the use of the term “Chief Engineer,” and not just engineer.
He stood and looked out the small porthole, not seeing the water, but the years passing by. “It’s a long strange story, Captain, and it really begins eight hundred years ago, with the landing of a spacefaring species called the K’Dreex…” He talked for two hours straight, his voice cracking until the Captain went out and brought him a small cup of water, and then he continued. The light was fading outside as he drew to a conclusion, and still the Captain remained silent. “And that’s how it stands. Lexi is involved now, because I had to save her life.” Hedric missed the small smile on the woman’s face. “And very few people know. Lexi, you, probably the doctor and, of course, the cats.”
“A prince and heir to a throne.” Her voice was a murmur. “I feel like I’ve been caught up in a fairy tale.”
“Lexi feels the same way, I think.” He gave her a crooked smile. “My family, my uncles and I are all involved with the Goddess Selene, and her sister the Goddess Rhiannon. I suspect that I will have an eventful life.”
“I thought you said that Selene and Rhiannon weren’t goddesses, really.” There was a frown on her tanned face.
“They aren’t. Goddess is simply an easier title than ‘Superbeing From Another World Sent to Look After Us.’”
“That IS a mouthful.” Isenhart laughed. “Now, we’ve taken more time than I expected, so you run along to dinner. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
The cats were waiting that night as he came into his small room. Blue jumped up on the bed, laying a warm paw on his bare ankle.
Hedric stroked the silk smooth fur, and the animal shut its eyes in contentment.
Blue opened his eyes and looked at his mate.
The boy thought for a moment.
There wa
s a dry chuckle in his mind from the cat.
Hedric was blushing so furiously he was sure that his ears were glowing.
Blue laughed lightly.
In a few months they would arrive in the capital city of New Boston. With fifty thousand people, it would be the largest city Hedric had ever seen, and he could barely contain his excitement. Each day around mid-morning Hedric would take a break and go to the wheelhouse to chat with Lexi. She was surprised at first, but after that first day, she always greeted him with a warm smile that made his heart sing.
The inevitable confrontation came ten days later, just before dinner, when Hedric and Lexi were speaking quietly near the bow. The violent push drove the smaller boy to the deck.
“You stay away from her, little boy. Lexi is mine!” John Tilbet glowered at Hedric, hands on his hips.
Hedric turned his head first at Lexi, then at the threatening boy. “I don’t see a sign on her, Tilbet.” The big navigator reached down and jerked Hedric to his feet, at which time the smaller boy twisted away and wisely stepped out of reach.
“I said stay away.” There was fire in the larger boy’s eyes now, and his hand was moving toward his sheath knife.
“John, NO!” Lexi shouted as she stepped between the two boys. “No fighting. You know the rules.” She glanced at the bare blade in John’s hand. “And especially no weapons.”
“You afraid of me, little boy?” Tilbet waved the glittering ceramic knife under the smaller boy’s nose.
“No, you ignorant dolt.” Hedric growled back. He heard Lexi stifle a laugh as the bigger boy frowned. “It means stupid.” Hedric supplied helpfully.
“You…” Tilbet began going into a fighter’s crouch.
“STOP!” It was the voice of the Captain. “Put that weapon down, Tilbet.” The bigger boy sheathed his knife.
“Swimming was making time w’ my girl, Capin.” He stood glowering, defiant.
With an unreadable expression, Isenhart turned to Alexandra. “Are you John Tilbet’s girl, Lexi?”
The girl in question looked outraged, and moved fractionally closer to Hedric. “No, I am NOT.” There was a definite emphasis on the last word.
“Then…” The Captain began, but Tilbet interrupted.
“Challenge!” he roared. “I challenge Swimming to combat.”
“You know that you must be over sixteen to fight.” The Captain was glaring at the big navigator, who had an evil smile on his face. “Tad isn’t over…”
Hedric touched the woman’s shoulder. “It’s all right, Captain. I accept the challenge.”
“No!” Lexi gasped. “He’ll kill you.”
“He’ll try, you mean.” He gave the girl a wink, although inside he was shaking.
The Captain leaned close, and Lexi caught the conversation, although she couldn’t believe it. “Are you sure, Tad?’
“Yes, Captain. I’m sure.”
“Very well, but John Tilbet is a skilled navigator. Please don’t kill him.” Lexi blinked in surprise.
“I’ll do my best.”
“What’s this?” The shout came from Joshua Tilbet, the stout cargomaster and John’s father. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I challenged Swimming. He was making eyes at my girl.” The big youth mumbled his reply as he looked at the deck.
The cargomaster glanced at Lexi standing by Hedric. “You bloody idiot. She’s not your girl. She never was YOUR girl. Swimming saved her life. They’re friends, maybe more. It’s not your business.” He swung his glance to Hedric. “You didn’t accept the challenge, did you, lad?
“I did, sir.”
Tilbet glanced helplessly at the Captain, who just nodded. The big man turned back to his son. “There is no honor in what you are doing. We’ll talk about it later.” The younger Tilbet winced. His father turned to the young engineer. “You have a knife, boy?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.” The cargomaster’s eyes widened when Hedric withdrew an inch of gleaming, razor sharp steel knife from its sheath.
“Don’t kill me son.” The cargomaster looked sour. “He’s the only one I have.”
“I’ll try not to, sir.”
For a moment Lexi just stood there, a puzzled look on her face trying to figure out just why everyone was so concerned for John’s well-being. After Moran told her that Hedric had had intensive instruction in hand-to-hand fighting, she began to laugh.
The crew formed a circle in the bow around the two combatants. John had stripped to the waist, flexing his massive chest and arm muscles. He was tossing his knife from hand to hand. Hedric simply took off his own coat, handing it to Lexi with a wink.
“This contest is only to determine the victor. It is NOT to the death.” Captain Isenhart glanced pointedly at Hedric.
“Aye, Captain.”
John Tilbet came out into the circle of men crouched low, facing Hedric, knife stretched out in front of him. Hedric wanted to laugh. He faced his opponent empty handed, arms and legs loose and slightly bent, his body at a forty-five degree angle to his opponent.
John was frowning. “Yer supposed to draw yer bloody knife, boy. This is a man’s fight.”
Hedric smiled back. “Don’t need a knife for this. Use the right tool for the job, my uncle taught me.”
The big navigator lunged forward, knife outstretched. Hedric calmly slapped the knife aside with a hand, as he took a skipping step forward, slamming the hard edge of his boot, like a blade, into the knee of his attacker. His Uncle Gorku had called it a skipping-side-piercing-kick, and had learned it from some saffron robed monks back in his homeland. His Uncle Padraig knew it under a slightly different name, but the results were the same. The knee cracked and popped, bending the wrong way, and the big boy went down in a screaming thrashing heap.
Hedric turned away, sickened, and found the Captain watching him closely. “What, no elation?” Her voice was so quiet that Lexi had to move a step closer to better eavesdrop.
Hedric took his coat from the girl’s hand and shrugged it on. He hadn’t even worked up a sweat. “No Captain. It was all such a waste.” He glanced up and found Lexi’s dark blue eyes staring intently at him. “I like Lexi very much, but I don’t consider her my property. If any decisions were to be made, it should have been her choice, not mine and not John Tilbet’s.” He looked down at the groaning boy on the deck, the doctor trying to straighten the ruined knee. “Maybe next time John Tilbet will think before he acts. I think I’ll just go to my room. I’m not very hungry.”
“No.” The Captain said softly. “You will go to the crew’s mess and have a good meal, Tad Swimming. You’ve worked a full day, and you’ve had a busy evening. You need a meal.” She gave Lexi a small smile. “Will you see to that, Miss Smith?”
Lexi took Hedric’s arm, possessively. “Yes, Captain, I will.”
Life on the Golden Fleece began to return to normal, as the horrors of Treebeard faded into the distance. It was like he had crossed some invisible line with the crew. When he came into the mess at mealtimes, room was made for him with the other crewmembers if he wa
sn’t sitting with Lexi. They shared their stories, and sly winks and nudges. Lexi shared her smiles.
The forest alongside the river was devoid of life, and even the raucous birds were scarce. Shadows under the trees seemed deeper, the cold chills more prevalent. On an overcast afternoon, a month after Treebeard, Hedric found himself leaning on the port cannon, staring morosely over the sluggish brown river. Rare and very expensive, the green cannon was so dark it could easily have been mistaken for black. A type of natural ceramic, the cannon was harvested and cut like a tree. Sitting nearby was a closed box, containing the shot; the head-sized rocks and nuts of the same size that would splinter on impact, showering the recipients with painful and often incapacitating splinters. His Uncle Padraig had told him that on the homeworld of mankind, metal was much more common, and cannons and even cannon balls were made of the precious stuff, which was why even his simple rusted belt knife had cost so much.
Approaching footsteps made him turn. Zebediah Gralt was wearing the same stiff high-collared black coat he always did. Standing ramrod straight, Gralt was a big man, easily the size of his Uncle Gorku, but not as tall as his Uncle Padraig. The man never seemed to smile.
“Afternoon, lad.” The big man said in a bass rumble. “Glad te see yer finally fittin in w’ the crew. I had me doubts there, fer a while.” The man’s face contorted into what Hedric thought might or might not be a smile. Whatever it was, it looked painful.
“I had my doubts too, Mister Gralt.” The boy tried a smile in return, and the man seemed to relax—slightly. “You know that I’m not, uhhh, from around here. Can you tell me a little more of this religion of yours?”
“Not my religion, lad. All our religion. The one god created us all, and we’re all his children, like it or not.” Hedric noted that Gralt was climbing on a soapbox, and regretted bringing up the subject, but it was too late now. “It is the duty of those with the faith to stamp out heresy, and bring all men and women into the fold.”