The short stays in port were a relief from the times on the water, but after a few days she grew weary. She was always ready to head back out. There’d been one or two men that tempted her to miss cast off, but that’d been when she was younger.
The man’s warning—or what she took as a warning—stuck with her. She couldn’t get his words out of her mind. What did he mean, “Good luck and be safe?” How did he know about the run? Who was he? She was confident he was the mysterious man from the tavern, the man with the green eyes. The clothes, even in the dark, matched. She snuck a peek when he went upstairs with the whore woman that ran the place. Maybe he was a toy boy, too ashamed to be selling his body to an older woman. Perhaps she was getting paranoid in her ripe old age of thirty. Why the hells did he run away so fast? Before she answered her unanswerable questions, they came to the gangplank. The craft waiting for them to board so they could head back into the cracks once again.
The captain stood on the sterncastle, his hands on his hips waiting for his crew to come aboard. His gray hair blew in the shifting wind. It would be time to cast off soon, sunlight or not. Kanika studied him as she crossed the gangplank. She did not want to approach him unless he was in the right mood. She always needed to be careful of his temper or face a tongue-lashing.
“First Officer, a word?” he shouted down to her from the rail once she cleared the plank. This was a first, he usually waited until all were ready to leave before calling on her.
“Aye, sir!” she shouted from the deck and made her way aft. Once at the sterncastle, she said, “You called, Captain?”
“Kanika, have you see the bosun? He has not returned.” Strange for him to call her Kanika.
“He wasn’t with us sir…” She wanted to say more, but idle gossip did not set well in her stomach.
“He has probably gone and found him a pillow-biter to curl up with. If he is not here, make plans to set sail without him. Inform the lead deck of his promotion. We can’t wait on the man and his… appetites any longer.”
“Aye, Captain… May I have a word in private?” She understood the man wasn’t in the best of moods, but she needed to get something off her chest. She watched as he sized her up.
“You’ve ten in my quarters.” Without ceremony, he headed down the ladder to the below deck officer’s quarters and aft to his cabin. As first officer, her cabin sat just to his cabin’s port side.
The door closed, she wasted none of her ten minutes with pleasantries. “Captain, I am concerned about the crew. There has been more talk about increasing profits by taking advantage of the ongoing war.” Straight and to the point.
“You mean steal others’ cargo to make us rich.” Kanika understood he recognized her argument, he’d heard it many times before in private.
“Sir, you know my feelings on the matter. I think we are hurting our own bottom line to not engage, but I will always support you and your decisions.” She stood with her hands behind her back as she spoke. “But if the crew feels there is more to be made attacking others, they might mutiny.”
“That is why I have you to keep them in line and watch my back. I am not going to let my daughter become a pirate, no matter how she feels.”
“And if your daughter feels strongly about it?”
“Kanika, you’ve never seen war, I have. The death and destruction will change you. No, I will not take this ship into the war zone. You will have to wait until I am dead to follow that course.”
Kanika sighed, contemplating her next move. She estimated she’d a few moments left. “I am not sure about this cargo, and neither is Hakeem.”
“I will admit I’m uneasy as well, but the gold is good, and the run is short. We will need to anchor at night, but it will not take too much longer to deliver.
“But the stipulation that we allow no fire on board during the transit? That is a strange request for cornmeal, and who ships cornmeal?”
“It doesn’t matter. I accepted the contract, and the cargo is loaded.”
“You will keep us safe. The crew will not like the smoking lamp being out.”
“They will live. Anything else?”
This was her signal her time grew short. She briefly considered telling about what the man in the alley said, but it made little sense to her. She was sure the captain wouldn’t care about it. “No captain, I think that is all.”
“Good, Kanika, I will keep us making coin to keep the ship in the black, trust me on that. Trust me, dear.”
The moment of tenderness took her by surprise. She looked at her captain, suddenly realizing how old he’d gotten over the years. She had been close all her life. He was her only true family, her mother died in childbirth. She said the only thing she could say at that point, “Yes, Father.”
Chapter 5:
Kanika strolled the main deck. She needed to tell the lead deckhand, Bran, of his promotion, but she felt a responsibility to give the bosun as much time as possible. The crew had been whispering about his tendencies for years. The captain, her father, wouldn’t replace him because of who he slept with. He replaced him because of his constant tardiness. The crew had to wait for him too many times. Today they would be leaving as soon as it grew light enough to see around the rocks in the harbor.
The more intelligent members of the crew grabbed a warm breakfast before returning. That had been Kanika’s plan, but the fight in the alley interrupted her schedule and her appetite. As she passed the mainmast, she realized she hadn’t eaten since the day before. The cook had set out a haunch of smoked pork and a knife for anyone who hadn’t eaten breakfast. It was early enough the salt flies hadn’t come to claim their tribute of flesh. Kanika sliced off a chunk and stuffed it into a small bread. Breakfast in hand, she headed forward to find Bran.
He stood right where the bosun should be. Experience proved to the crew the old bosun might be late, and Bran had been covering for the man for months. This was just the natural progression of things.
Kanika shouted, “Mister Bran,” from the main deck to the forecastle where the man stood.
“Aye, First Officer,” he shouted back in a clear voice that carried over the deck.
“It seems our bold bosun is finally going to miss the boat, are you ready to take his place?” She stood in the center of the deck and pointed with her makeshift sandwich.
“Aye, I thought you’d never ask,” he answered quickly, and the crew cheered their approval of the promotion.
After the impromptu celebration, Kanika continued, “Then, Bosun, make ready to set sail, prepare the sacrifice to the goddess, single up all lines, and prepare to cast off.”
“Aye, First Officer. You water dogs heard the lady, if I need to repeat it, I will. All men, man your stations for getting underway. Make ready to set sail, single up all lines, and prepare to cast off. Let’s move, you water dogs, it’s the start of a new day.”
The order echoed through the ship as each member of the crew repeated the order like a chant, confirming it received throughout. Kanika had thought Bran would always have made a better bosun than the old man. Her father should have sent the old one ashore long ago. But she knew her captain didn’t make changes quickly without good reason. It would have to wait for consideration later. Now she needed to focus on getting underway.
With a mouthful of the pork sandwich, she climbed the ladder to the forecastle to take her position at the bow. She would stay there until they were past the quay heading toward the open water of the crack. With one last inspection over the deck to ensure all stood ready, she glanced to the bosun and gave him a nod.
On the cue, he held a large mug of ale over the gunnel and recited the prayer, “Mother of the Cracks and Keeper of the Dead, Sinead, please hear our plea. We offer you this ale to keep your heart light. Please grant us safe journeys as we cross your domain. If something displeases you, remember many other ships are plying the cracks—they would keep you much better company than this scurvy lot!” With that, he poured the mug into the water. “Drink
it deep and stay happy as we travel.” The crew cheered a successful offering to the Mother of the Indigo Waters and Goddess of Death. Kanika threw her sandwich over the side as an extra offering.
With a stare to the sterncastle and the captain, Kanika waited to receive the signal to cast off. As soon as their eyes locked, he motioned with his left arm in a sweeping gesture at chest level to cast off all lines.
“Bosun, cast off all lines, make quarter sail,” Kanika said in her calm voice.
Just as quickly, Bran repeated the order, projecting over the crew, only to be echoed by all hands.
On the jetty, dockworkers released the remaining four mooring lines, while on the main deck four men hauled them in, and another four two-man-teams pushed off from the pier with long boat hooks.
Once the hull cleared the jetty by ten feet, the captain called out, “Make quarter sail.” To which, the crew echoed. Men ran to the halyard and outhaul lines controlling the boom and mainsail, allowing the morning east wind to catch the canvas as it rose, pulling the ship forward.
The wind blowing at their backs, Kanika heard the captain’s orders now clear from the sterncastle. “Helmsman, take us out best possible speed, and make for deep water. Navigator, you know the course. Get us there,” the captain said before descending the ladder below decks.
With no time to consider his actions, she moved to the prow, her station for getting underway. Along with the crow’s nest, it was her job to ensure they didn’t run into anything while leaving the harbor. Once in the open water, the position would be delegated to a more junior crewmember. Entering and leaving a busy port was always one of the most dangerous of waters.
As duties go, it could be counted as one of the most important yet tedious of jobs. The ship made their way toward the mouth of the harbor at quarter sail. This early in the morning, traffic was light: mostly fishing boats in search of their morning catch. From her position at the bow, Kanika experienced a two hundred and seventy degree view of the surrounding water.
Off to port, she spotted a strange sight. While most fishing vessels moved in a deliberate way, she eyed one drifting just outside the harbor. What appeared to be a crew of one stood and watched the Resolute head into the crack. For some reason, the odd sight sent a chill up her spine.
Lost in thought, Kanika jumped with a start when a familiar voice spoke behind her, “Are you ready to set the watch? We still need to talk.” Hakeem, like a dog with a bone, just wouldn’t let it go.
“It will wait until we anchor for the night. Once we are out of earshot, we can discuss whatever you want. Even in my cabin, ears are everywhere,” Kanika whispered back.
Hakeem hesitated then nodded acceptance. Kanika knew he wanted to talk now, but the pork sandwich did little to combat her swollen head and lack of sleep. The Resolute safely out of harbor traffic, it grew time for the quiet of her cabin and the familiarity of her rack, so she might sleep off her hangover.
<=OO=>
Kanika slept longer than she anticipated. The week in Abaraka took its toll on her body. She needed the sleep, for she wasn’t as young as she once was. They found no reason to fear. Once safely out of Abaraka’s harbor, there was little to worry about. Their destination was plotted to a small town far to the south. The course would take them far away from the warring cities of Zar and Perdition. From their position, the ship could only head south—the Great Beach blocked the crack to the north.
The beach would’ve been a wonderful place to form a city. Miles and miles of flat black sand beach, but it lay even farther north, so hot little survived there. The sand had been blasted clean of vegetation, and myths abounded concerning farther north, where the black sand turned to black glass, and all manner of hideous deformed creatures lay in wait to attack unsuspecting travelers.
Children of the cracks were kept in line with horror stories told about the beach. Few traveled the black sands, even fewer returned to talk about it. The island they had just left, where Abaraka climbed the cliffs, its northern end jutted into the beach. Had it not been for the volcanoes north of the city, untold creatures might have overrun the city.
She could tell the setting sun grew low in the western sky. Their first stop lay not far from Abaraka. Since their contract stipulated no open flames onboard, the captain determined their best bet would be to hop through cracks, stopping at night for dinner and breakfast the next morning. This would also allow the crew to smoke after a day of sailing. Without smoke breaks, the crew might be ready to revolt without at least a promise for a smoke at the end of the day.
After a quick sponge bath, she headed to the sterncastle to appraise the situation. She should have spent more time on deck the first day out to sea, but being the first officer and the captain’s daughter needed a few perks, even if the captain might disagree. Above decks, she found they still traveled south, in the main north-south crack that ran east of Abaraka. They would follow this route for a time before heading east far south of Zar and the war.
Once outside the confines of the cities, the cracks were not a barren wasteland of water and black sandstone cliffs. Frequent small towns and villages might be found clinging to patches of land separating the cliffs from the deep blue water. It seemed more of these little settlements sprung up every time they came this way. The population of the city-states grew, only checked by the occasional war or outbreak of the coughing sickness.
The navigator plotted several deserted coves he thought deep enough for anchorage for the crew to spend the nights. None had a sand beach, so the best the crew could hope for was a rocky shore protected from the surf and high enough to not get wet at high tide. The Resolute made good time. The eastern wind turned out of the northeast, pushing them in the direction they needed to go while still crossing the crack. Running with the wind at their backs, they were able to adjust course and not rely on tacking to get where they needed to be.
Kanika hadn’t been in the fresh air ten minutes before Hakeem came up from the main deck to greet her. Before he spoke, she stopped him with a raised hand. “I said once we stop for the night.” There was a firm tone in her voice when she spoke.
“This is something else. There is a strange smell coming from below decks,” Hakeem whispered once he got close enough.
“Strange how?”
“It’s faint and possibly one of the crew. Possibly someone ate something that didn’t agree with them, but the crew’s quarters reeks of someone busting ass.”
“Maybe it’s the ghost of the missing boson, he was famous for many things.” Kanika felt she could be honest with Hakeem. They were, after all, both officers—him only slightly junior to her.
“He’d clear a room, perhaps someone else did the deed, and he just took the blame. Na, I highly doubt that. He wasn’t the one to take the blame for anyone.”
“Keep me informed if it gets too bad. We will open the cargo hatches and air out the cargo hold and the berthing deck.” She turned to the helmsman and in a much louder voice asked, “How much longer till the next available anchorage?”
“Not long, ma’am, maybe the next bell.”
“Then make for the next anchorage. We pushed hard all day. We will take an early break and set off first thing in the morning,” Kanika said.
“But the captain said—” The helmsman didn’t finish, the glare from Kanika’s eyes told him all he needed to know.
Her voice lowered to a whisper only Hakeem could hear. “Once we get the crew ashore, we will see what we can find out about our mysterious cargo.”
“I just hope it’s nothing too serious. Working against the wind, it will take us longer to get back.”
Kanika didn’t know why every man on the crew thought they needed to explain everything to her. She silently raised her right eyebrow, shutting down Hakeem’s blathering.
Chapter 6:
Anchorage made, and the watch quickly set, the longboats were lowered from the main deck. The crew was ready for a break and smoke. There were no complaints about the e
arly stop. Even the captain agreed once he came from below deck. He needed a smoke as much as anyone on the ship.
The Resolute was left with just a skeleton crew, which remained topside while Kanika and Hakeem prepared to search the crew’s quarters.
“Are you ready for this? I was down here earlier, and it brought me to tears.” Hakeem stood next to Kanika looking down the ladder into the dark space.
“It can’t be that bad.”
“Then be my guest, ladies first.” Hakeem bowed with a sweep of his arm, offering the young woman to be first into the space.
Kanika didn’t make it halfway down the ladder before she started swearing, “For all that is holy under the skies, what is that stench?”
“I told you.”
Kanika stuck her head out from the hatch. “Get the watch, open the cargo hatch. We can’t allow people sleeping down here, they’ll throw up all over the place.”
Hakeem ran off to gather the sentries and unbatten the hatches.
Kanika took several deep breaths to the point of hyperventilation and went back into the berthing compartment, searching for the source of the overwhelming odor. In the dark space, she nearly made it to the center of the compartment before her body forced her to take a breath. The first thing she noticed, the stench was not as robust further into the space. She reached the pass-through hatch from the main deck through the berthing compartment down to the cargo hold, and little stench hung there.
She continued forward until she reached the ladder leading to the forecastle, where there was nearly no odor at all. She stood, trying to decide what produced the smell, when the sound of the top hatch opening came to her loud and clear. Though late in the day, the sun hung high enough to fill a majority of the space with light. The hatch opened and secured, Hakeem stuck his head in and took a great whiff. “Odd, it doesn’t smell bad here.”
Loss of the Resolute: A Dark Fantasy (Fractured Lands Book 1) Page 3
