by J P Nelson
“Where is she now?”
“My turn to ask, why? Is she something special to you …”
“No.” I thought of the time when we made eye contact, “I only knew of her.”
“She was purchased with Challero to serve as a bodyguard, but was sold later to another party. I have no idea where she may be.”
“And you wish Challero killed quickly?”
“Yes, Gojai, that is what I wish.”
There were only a few minutes before the guards would come to escort me to the arena. I turned and walked back to my blankets, sat down, and said, “I’ll think about it.”
___________________________
As the ice broke around Waddles and the girl began to scream, I was hearing screams of my own, screams in the fashion of thousands of patrons in the Grand Coliseum of Dahruban. Never had I seen such a place. I have been in hamlets, villages and small towns which could have fit into that area.
We were both introduced and the word given to engage. As we circled each other, I appraised this four-armed fellow. He was taller than me, but not by much. His extra set of arms endowed him with an extra set of chest and shoulder muscles, as well. His abdomen was rippled with muscle and his hands were huge.
Going head to head was not the logical idea. Then it hit me, I mean, I suddenly figured out what to do. But first I needed to know something.
I was in my shuffle-step mode, working my way around him. As we drew close to each other I asked, “What of Lath?”
He got a blank look on his face and replied, “Wha---?! You eat shit and die.”
“Okay, let’s play it that way.”
He then lunged at me with all four arms out in different directions, obviously to make some kind of grab. He made me think of a human spider. Instead of trying to evade, I suddenly knelt down and with all my strength, thrust both fore-knuckles into the point just below the navel. Spider-guy stopped cold in his tracks. All four of those hands went down and held his upper groin as he said, “Oh-h-m-m-m-n-n-gh!”
Quickly, I reached up and grabbed the back of his head and drove my knee into his chin. Teeth and blood went flying as he rose up and spun around to the cheers of the crowd.
I set myself up, and as he staggered about to face me, I delivered maybe one of the best dropkicks I had done, up to that point that is. I caught him right on the top chest and knocked him airborne and off of his feet.
Doing my shuffle-step, I skipped around him as he got to one knee. Mister Challero was used to people being intimidated by him, his muscles, those four flailing arms, and his win record. The thing is, he was overconfident.
Measuring my next move, I posturized, and stylized a maximum power chop to the throat … and then held the pose at the follow through. While I stood there looking like a marble statue of some kind, his head bobbled a moment, then he fell flat on his face.
The crowd was completely quiet. Seizing the moment I shuffle-stepped some more, as if waiting for him to get up. But his only movement was a convulsing twitch of his leg, then all was still. I opened my hands at him, then looking to the crowd I yelled in defiance, “Is this the best you’ve got?!”
A murmur ran through the coliseum, then people rose to their feet and began chanting, “Go-jai … Go-jai … Go-jai ...”
Two months later I was City-State Champion, a reign which lasted over two years, the longest consistent Primus Record in history.
___________________________
According to Kravieu, when the ice broke around Waddles, “We all dast knew our souls were to be rendered unto afterlife.”
Seedle was tending tiller and nearly landed in Dessi’s lap, who was facing the stern with two readied crossbows, one of which fired as he yelled, “Shite!”
Jha’Ley was suddenly upon his feet with dao-sword drawn and ready. He later added while laughing, “I do not know what I would score upon a seventy-foot shark, but I was ready.”
Caroll was already seriously sick and responded not at all.
The girl was not even conscious, but continued screaming until they were nearly to the Clarise.
As it turned out, the break was a simple matter of thin ice finally giving way to the added weight of Waddles and her cargo. The speed of the jonboat and smoothness of the ice allowed easy transition into the water. Only rods ahead, the same transition occurred when solid ice again availed itself.
Several crew were lined upon the starboard-side of the Clarise as Waddles drew up. But before anyone could hail downward, Jha’Ley yelled up to Sailing Master Rufus, “Mister Caroll is in a bad way with hypothermia, and we have a near death girl from yonder ship.”
He didn’t need to give instructions, they knew what to do. And although Caroll didn’t exactly have hypothermia, what he had was close enough. It was Jha’Ley’s fear he was nigh to pneumonia.
Quickly Jha’Ley climbed the side ladder, and as the crew made to bring Caroll and the girl aboard, he asked Rufus, “Where is Mister Dalton?”
“To the front, sir, he has been there all day. I believe they have broken through, sir.”
“Excellent! Is there a boat fast and ready?”
“Aye sir. A monomoy is to port-side.”
“I need a team seated and ready in five, please. We are going forward, quickly.”
“With respect, sir, you are cold and need---”
“Fetch me a hot tankard of tea and a biscuit. Quickly, please ... Mister Yeau?”
“Aye ssuh.”
There was always something comforting about the Sha’Ming native’s presence, and his face always radiated pleasantry. Jha’Ley couldn’t help smile at the quarter-master’s difficulty with r’s and l’s.
They walked across deck as Jha’Ley spoke, “Mister Yeau, there is a young girl of perhaps thirteen years who is emaciated, and who knows what else. We figure she has been living aboard yonder ship for a year, alone. Her very life is a sign of fortitude and will. I would that she be placed in my quarters with an attendant at all times.”
Jha’Ley began climbing down the port-side ladder as he continued, “Mister Fhascully will bring you up to bear.”
As Seedle was reaching the top of the starboard-side ladder, he noticed Jha’Ley and with alarm began to speak …
Yeau replied, “Yessuh.” as Seedle straightway called out, “Commodore, heyo … wait for me!”
Jha’Ley raised his right forefinger up in a ‘Wait one moment,’ expression toward Seedle. As he continued climbing down, he remarked to Yeau, “You outrank him, and he is tired …” Jha’Ley touched down upon the monomoy, “… and in dire need of some soup … push off Mister Lebracio … to the Ubank.”
As the six oarsmen launched with urgency, Rufus ran up to the gunwale with a huge tankard in his hand and small sack in the other. Running along side, he yelled down with exasperation, “Commodore, your tea and …”
“Toss it down, Mister Rufus.”
Still running, Rufus tossed the sack, which Jha’Ley caught, then tried to arrange the tankard in such way he could best handle it.
“Toss it, Ru …”
As they reached the bow of the Clarise, Rufus did the best he could. Jha’Ley seemed to reach up and pluck the tankard out of the air and seized it nicely by the handle. Taking a sip, he then raised it high in salute to a swearing, muttering Rufus.
Also at the bow, Jha’Ley heard Yeau politely, firmly, saying to Seedle, “Ah out-hyank you, ssuh. You ah tahd and in di-uh need of ssome ssoup, ssuh …”
___________________________
Aboard the Ubank and in S’Getti’s cabin, Jha’Ley’s feet were in a warm tub of water enhanced with salts, a fresh mug of tea in hand, a man well-skilled with his hands giving his shoulders a good rubdown, and S’Getti pouring a glass full of heated Avalon Brandy.
“I tell you, I do not need this.”
“Posh, you can court-marshal me, but this is my ship, and you left me in command. Drink this, while I decide if you are truly Commodore Jann Raul Jha’Ley, or a tasseled lout in fro
m the ice.”
“Does the uniform not stand in my stead?”
S’Getti chuckled, “Not at all.” He then made signs with his hands to the massage master, indicating him to include a good acu-point routine in with the rub.
Taking a luxuriating sip of the hot drink, Jha’Ley commented, “Fhascully insists alcohol does not aid in warming of the body.”
“Ah, he is but a scientist. What does he know?”
“It is too bad … oh-h-h … your man is deaf-mute … m-m-m … but he is good …”
“Well, you showed him those acu-skills. I have enjoyed the procedure immensely.”
“You said the barges have broken through and made way to soft surface … o-h-h-h … I am going to … ow-w-w, now that one hurt.”
“What was it you told me that time, ‘If it hurts, it is because it needs to be addressed?’”
“I … I lied … ow-w-w …”
“Yes, Jann Raul, we believe they have broken through. From the crow’s nest, my eyes say the expanse should give in to the unicorn with little difficulty. Mister Dalton put the sail up and lowered the keel on Clyde and pushed forward. They should return anytime with report.”
“He did what?!”
Becoming very serious, S’Getti asked, “Come, my friend, speak to me. You are apprehensive, it is not like you.”
There was a knock at the door.
S’Getti commanded, “Enter.”
His cook and cook’s mate brought platters of steaming food and set them down to the table.
The captain remarked, “Thank you, Sean, it smells delightful.”
After they left, S’Getti said, “Let us eat, and you tell me what is bothering you.”
Jha’Ley related the day’s events and disclosed his concern over the megladon, “That would be one big fish to tackle, Villiam. I expected challenges, but not of this kind, not in the sea this far north.”
S’Getti thought long and hard before his reply, “Shikes … a seventy-foot monster. I do not know.” His gaze was steady as he added, “We will have to make preparations. You say your men collected several of its teeth?”
“Seven, to be exact.”
“Then perhaps we can fashion them to harpoon shafts, have men on alert just for this creature.”
Another knock at the door drew S’Getti’s response, “Yes, enter.”
A crewman announced, “Commodore, captain, Lieutenant Dalton has returned, sirs.”
Over a glass of brandy Dalton reported, “Four and a half miles westward the sea is still icy, but of slush water. We had no difficulty onward. The retractable keel works very well, sirs, and the wind gave us good service both ways. Tacking maneuvers were of no difficulty.”
There was more, but after his report Jha’Ley said, “It is well, then. After the sun has risen, we will make a go of it.”
As an after thought, Dalton added, “By-the-way, sirs, we had an encounter with a shark.”
Chapter 22
JHA’LEY HAD BEEN taking a sip of hot brandy when Dalton said the word shark, he froze in his action and S’Getti gave him a fixed stare. Slowly lowering his glass and savoring his drink, the commodore swallowed with deliberation. Licking his lips, pursing his mouth and tonguing his cheeks, he passed an appraising glance to his lieutenant who was cheerfully and gratefully emptying his own mug.
S’Getti was still watching Jha’Ley as he asked the question for his commander, “You said shark, did you not?”
“Aye sir.” Dalton was not greedy, nor did he ask for a refill of the Avalon confection, but it was clear he would enjoy another mug. S’Getti tipped the still warm container and poured for the man as he continued, “Thank you graciously, sir. It was of good size …” S’Getti now shifted his gaze to the lieutenant, who still did not realize the heaviness of attention he was receiving.
“… It must have been all of ten, perhaps eleven feet.”
Jha’Ley let out a long, slow breath of relief as he closed his eyes and shrugged his forehead.
Dalton noticed, but did not understand. He continued even as S’Getti gave a slight, tilted shake of his head accompanied with a smile, “Coxswain Ambrose knows a thing or two about sharking, his pa is a regular shark hunter, you see, but he recognized not the species. Sharks are not given to frequent frigid waters, says he, but there is a species what thrives in the sea south and east of Mittugahr.”
Jha’Ley asked, “Did the shark initiate any hostile action?”
“No sir. We observed what appeared to be seal or nosell swimming off to our four o’clock position, northeast-by-east. Mister Ambrose surmised the shark to be hunting them.”
“Thank you, Mister Dalton, take rest. Tomorrow we push on.”
___________________________
While Clyde and the other barges were tied to the Ubank’s stern, pulling her back for a good run to plow through the broken ice, Jha’Ley held a meeting of the officers aboard the Clarise. The megladon was subject of discussion. The commodore stood before table with a tripod and black slate beside him, a piece of chalk in hand. Neatly drawn upon the slate was their idea of the shark, represented in proportion with the three ships of the expedition.
After briefing the ensemble of circumstances regarding the Sin’Cho, Jha’Ley continued, “Gentlemen, we are here on business of the queen in representation of Vedoa. Our course is not set upon combat and conquest, yet, neither are we to take aggression from any agency in any manner.”
He paused and took a sip from his tea mug, “It is within my power to make determination as to who,” he embellished the next with a twitch of his eyebrow, “or what,” ironic smiles crossed the faces of more than one officer, “may be construed an aggressive agent.”
Walking about the table as he spoke, in an exaggerated manner Jha’Ley paused by Fhascully and said, “Without apology, I must declare this beast a most aggressive agent.”
The naturalist sat his chair, held hands up in the air, and his facial expression stated he was in full agreement … this time.
“Even now we have smiths working on special harpoon heads and ballista shafts. We are not looking for trouble, but should trouble seek us out we will teach this upstart …” with a great melodramatic motion, he clenched his fist over his head, “… why we are the most powerful naval force upon the sea.”
S’Getti looked to Jha’Ley with a wry grin as the others were caught up in the moment’s humor.
Back at front of the table, Jha’Ley took a more somber tone, “In all seriousness, gentlemen, other than the fabled R’Kul, Leviathan, and the Drake King, Zaeghun, there are no known denizens of the sea to equal, let alone surpass, the size of this creature. There are no records of any vessel facing a megladon and surviving.
“Mister Fhascully is the most experienced person I know with sharks and their ilk. He is going to discuss this matter with you and tend any such questions you may have. Mister Fhascully, if you will?”
As the naturalist took the chalk from Jha’Ley’s hand, the commodore stepped out and to Caroll’s hammock. As he gazed upon his longtime friend, he thought, ‘No matter how large the man, no matter how strong, we are all susceptible to weakness.’
Speaking to the attendant he asked, “Has he come about at all?”
“No sir. Mister Fhascully was with him all night. We have been feeding him this herbal potion. I think it is all that has been keeping his fever down. The garlic, ginger and scallion makes for a potent brew, sir. But he is taking it.”
“Then keep feeding it to him. Let me know the instant fever breaks.”
“Aye sir.”
Taking a cloth from a water pan, Jha’Ley wiped Caroll’s brow. Leaning close to his ear, he whispered, “Hang in there, sir, we need you … I need you.”
He looked to the stone about Caroll’s neck and thought of the time when they found it. There was a rune engraved up it. He could not read the symbol, but knew it had something to do with his time with Logan. Was it in some way magical?
“Do you reme
mber the bear? You must fight. Surely this is no greater than the beast you slew with only a knife.”
From a pouch by his side, Jann Raul took four small cubes; two of ivory, two were blue. The attendant was watching, but the commodore was not aware. He took the blue pair in his hand and shook them in his fist, then released them upon the tray of which set the bowl.
With an impish grin he whispered into Caroll’s ear, “I rolled a five and a four. Now it is your turn.”
He put the ivory pair of dice into the big man’s hand. His face did not move, but his hand closed tight upon the dice.
Back upon main-deck, Jha’Ley strode to bow. Grasping a line and putting foot upon the rail he gazed to the Ubank’s stern, saw the barges and monomoys below as they had pulled the ship into position, then he glanced at the ice and water all about him.
Yeau had stepped up beside him as he muttered, “Water, water everywhere, but not a drop which I may sip.”
“Excusse me suh?”
Shaking his head, Jha’Ley said, “An old elvin proverb, Mister Yeau, or so I am told.” Feeling a strong, westward wind and looking north-by-northeast he declared, “Winds of Torsham … I shall not run before you, I shall harness you, ride you, and sail beyond you.”
Addressing Yeau, he said, “Send for Captain S’Getti, we are ready to drive forward.”
And drive forward they did. The winds filled the sails of the Ubank as she charged the broken ice with fervor. From the four mile point and onward, the sea gave way to steady sailing, not quickly, mind you, but steady. Once into open water, the Clarise took point with Ubank and Qua’Korr flanking her in a V-pattern.
On the second day of full sail, Jha’Ley was inspecting a new harpoon head. An ugly, horrible looking piece of metal with serrated edges, presented to him by Ensign Ambrose, Clyde’s regular coxswain.
“This, sir, is a many times larger version of the ones my pa, his pa, and his pa before him use. It will not travel far, what with the weight of the head and shaft upon which it must be mounted, even considering the pull strength of the Balder’s. But at close range the impact will be significant---”
