by LeRoy Clary
A boom with a pulley swung out over the rowboats and sailors lifted loads of food, fresh, smoked, and dried. The Captain inspected it all and accepted it without exception. It was far superior to that normally found on ships.
The ship’s boats returned, and the barrels of water were hoisted aboard. Then they went back for more water. The Captain had told the men to empty any barrels that could hold water because where they were headed had little.
Tanner watched as cases of dried, salted fish were brought aboard. Smoked meats that were goats, pigs, and sheep were stored. Other wicker containers held figs, raisins, almonds, and more. A few new to him. Then there were fresh and dried beans, peas, and yams.
It seemed to Tanner that they took on far more than they required. All had been brought aboard, but more small boats laden with food were heading their way. The Captain noticed Tanner’s concern and whispered, “If you’ve ever been on a ship that’s run out of stores you’d understand.”
Tanner didn’t resent the quantity, nor did he resist the rising price. He simply hadn’t ever calculated how much food eighteen men eat in thirty, or more days. But the water barrels also kept arriving. He raised an eyebrow to the Captain over them.
“Walk with me,” the Captain said, as he moved their conversation away from other ears. “Breslau is dry. A desert on a coast with mountains barely a day’s walk inland. To my knowledge, there is only two rivers, that large one south of the Bay and a small one at Breslau City. I have no idea where we might collect more water, so I’ve ordered every barrel we can spare to be filled.”
“I wasn’t questioning your decision.”
Captain Jamison placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder. “I know that, or you’d be swimming by now.”
Tanner laughed.
Captain Jamison didn’t.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Rose sailed again in the late afternoon, promising to return to the island in a month. The village would have more supplies ready and waiting. Tanner had paid more than expected but the price had barely put a dent in his purse. As a precaution against those in Marlstone City following the ship, they sailed due south until out of sight, then turned east towards Breslau.
The voyage across the Endless Sea would take fifteen days, maybe more. Tanner and Carrion asked the Captain for time to be set aside where they could plan where they should arrive in Breslau, and how to best proceed. He suggested they meet in his cabin after sunset. The air would be cooler, and they could open his window for a breeze and talk all night if needed.
The Captain had his secret chart to study in the cabin. It sounded agreeable to all.
Tanner strolled the deck as if he’d been born to the sea. He often spotted Devlin at work, but seldom spoke to him, fearing a personal relationship with the owners might place him in awkward positions or alienate him from the rest of the crew.
On the other hand, first-mate Fisher often paused to talk. In his short time as the mate, the ship improved daily. The decks were scrubbed with saltwater, and the six gods would tremble in fear when he found sloppiness or dirt. Part of each day was spent scraping any bare wood and painting it. He often told the crew that if it didn’t move, put a coat of paint on it. Since leaving port in Racine, the ship had taken on a new image.
So had the crew. Pride was the word he’d use to describe them. At first, many were simply accepting job offers and going about their duties mindlessly. Now, in only a few short days, a sense of pride permeated throughout the ship. It revealed itself in a hundred small ways. Once a crewman had told another to repair a section of a wall and cautioned him to do better work in the future. Others painted with a smile. If it didn’t move, they painted it, just as he said.
The Captain removed the chart from the cabinet and spread it across his desk. He reached into another cabinet and pulled an unopened bottle of hard cider. Tanner eyed it tentatively, but the Captain caught his look. He said, “A stout pull for each of us for a job well done. I’ve ordered the same for the crew tonight.”
He splashed cider into the bottom third of three mugs and tasted it while averting his eyes.
Tanner understood the reason for the small celebration. But sitting across from him was little remaining of the drunken derelict they had first met. He didn’t think the Captain had taken a drink since sailing. The bottle had still been full. He’d keep a watch, and the Captain knew it.
Carrion pointed at the chart, “That’s the largest city. The capital, I’d guess. Also called Breslau. Not very inventive, if you ask me.”
“A good place to stay away from,” Captain Jamison said, his voice as stern as if he was directing his crew to hoist a sail. “No place to hide the ship and I’m not about to sail into the harbor of the capital city. We’d all be in chains or worse. The King’s palace is there, sitting on a bluff overlooking the harbor. A tan structure, at least, five levels high.”
“Where would you suggest we land?” Carrion said, “You were here years ago, so you have an idea of what would be best.”
“Do you really have to go ashore would be my first question?” the Captain asked, furrowing his brow in concentration as he looked at the chart. “Staying on board and sailing back to Racine could be best in my opinion.”
“We have to go there,” Tanner said.
“Then I suggest that I lower a small boat for you at night, and you can row. If I sail in close to shore, in a place where the water is deep enough for the ship, like here,” the Captain pointed to a small peninsula just below the main city, “you could row ashore and hide your boat.”
“That wouldn't hide the ship, come daylight,” Tanner said.
“If I sail far enough out into the bay during the day nobody will see me. That bay is large enough to be a small sea. Every night I can sail close to shore again, and you can hold up a lantern for me to spot.”
Tanner said, “What if a fisherman, or worse, a naval ship spots you?”
The Captain smiled almost eagerly. “There’s nothing I can’t outrun in these waters. Then, after another day or two, I can double back and pick you up.”
Carrion said, “Anybody else on this ship that’s been to Breslau? We can use all the information we can get. Otherwise, it sounds like a plan.”
They didn’t tell him about Carrion’s dragon or their purpose in going ashore. To his credit, the Captain didn’t ask them questions. He sat and talked about all he could remember, which was little that was helpful. He didn’t know anyone near the port who could help them. He speculated on other items. Only once did he mention a green dragon that patrolled the capital on a daily basis.
A green fighting against Carrion’s red didn’t stand much of a chance of victory. Reds were generally larger, stronger, and more intelligent. At least, that’s what Carrion had told him and when it came to his red, Carrion wasn’t against exaggerating.
But in any dragon fight, both sides were bound to be injured. A serious injury to the red could cause problems of it returning across the sea. As it was, the journey would be at the limit of what a dragon could fly. A strained wing muscle, torn wing, or infected wound could be life threatening for a dragon needing to re-cross the Endless Sea.
Worse, was the possibility that there were several dragons in the city. A Royal might call on another green to join in the fight. Perhaps two or three. But a fight between dragons would tell the Royals that at least one of the Dragon Clan was nearby. It would be enough to enrage the Royals, or so Carrion believed.
But Tanner knew Carrion was as determined as he to enter the city. They were traveling further from their homes than anyone they knew, and the trip shouldn’t be wasted.
“So, after we’re done with our business ashore, we row out to sea each night and light a lantern?” Tanner asked, sounding skeptical.
Captain Jamison placed both of his palms on the chart and leaned forward until his nose was a hands breadth away from Tanner’s. “Here is where we find how our six gods dance, so I’ll tell you this only one time, my frien
d. Had you not purchased my debt, The Rose would belong to Captain Brice, and I’d be drinking myself stupid until I ran out of coin, which would not have been long. Will I be there to rescue you? I promise that if I draw breath, I’ll be there.”
“I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“You didn’t. That’s the pity of it. I was so far down in the gutter I had to look up to see my shadow. You changed that, you and Carrion, and, of course, Devlin.”
“Devlin would like to remain as one of your crew,” Tanner said. “I’ve been waiting for the right time to mention it.”
“You’re asking my permission? Well, I’ll tell you. There are only a few men who take to the sea like that boy, and I’d hire him on any ship where I was the master. That is the same answer without knowing you were involved. He’ll captain his own ship one day soon.”
The planning continued into the night. The bottle of cider remained capped. But in the end, little else was decided—or needed to be. There were too many variables. Too many unknowns. But they discussed them as best they could and in the end, the plan was much the same as in the beginning.
The following morning Carrion pleaded illness and remained in his bed as Tanner asked for food to be delivered to their cabin so he could care for Carrion. In reality, Carrion was flat on his back, eyes closed, appearing almost dead as he joined minds with the red dragon he’d bonded with years earlier.
Tanner always wanted to ask questions about everything that happened, but Carrion usually shrugged off most of it. What Tanner did understand was that they enjoyed the company of each other. Carrion could see, hear, feel, and taste all the dragon did. He could ‘ask’ the dragon to do something, but couldn’t ‘make’ it.
However, he could influence the dragon and convince it to do things. For instance, he had once convinced the red to pass up making a meal of a farmer’s goats. The farmer needed his goats to earn a living, so Carrion put the idea into the hungry dragon’s mind that goats do not taste as good as deer, and the meadows of a nearby mountain usually contained tasty deer.
Carrion had also told Tanner that he simply enjoyed melding their minds. He described seeing through the eyes of the dragon as if flew high in the air, the cold wind rustling on the leather wings and stinging its eyes.
The bonding between the two of them lasted a lifetime, and from all Tanner had heard, the pair were inseparable. When one of a bonded pair died, the other often did shortly after. Tanner considered all those things and more, as he watched over the helpless body while Carrion was mentally elsewhere.
They had discussed it the day before. Carrion wanted to fly the dragon to Breslau and begin exploring through the eyes of the dragon. He planned to begin after arriving and making concentric circles around the capital, each shrinking in size.
The plan would take days; they didn’t know how many. But to keep the crew from asking questions, the illness story had been conceived. It gave the excuse for both of them to spend days in the cabin. However, it was boring for Tanner. His days were spent inside the tiny space, making sure nobody or nothing attacked Carrion.
Tanner decided there is probably nothing in the world as vulnerable as a bonded man who was inside the mind of a dragon, and he wondered if he killed Carrion, would his mind remain with the dragon, or would he die? He spent nearly half a day thinking about it, but he also decided that he would not ask Carrion for the answer. It would be better if his friend didn’t know he spent the time plotting what would happen if he murdered him.
Well after dark Carrion sat up, his eyes tired. He said, “He’s there. Roosting. Tomorrow he will need to eat and recover, then we can begin our search.”
“The important thing is that he made the flight all the way across the ocean.”
“Near the end it was questionable. He’s a strong flier, but if it were much further he couldn’t have made it.”
“You look tired, too.”
Carrion flashed a half-smile. “I am. How many men do you know that flew over an entire sea today?”
“You were just along for the ride. You didn’t do it yourself.”
“That shows how ignorant you are about bonding. I’m every bit as wore out as the red, and you had better have a platter of food around here for me to eat.”
Tanner did have a platter and Carrion ate nearly everything on it, then fell into a deep sleep. Tanner worried over the comment Carrion had made. He was ignorant of much of the bonding routine, but the inference was that the physical act of flying a great distance tired both of them. He was learning a lot while sitting in a chair in a dark room watching over a motionless man.
The following day Tanner left the cabin to walk on the decks and get some fresh air. The day after, that storm struck and produced waves that struck the ship so hard they sounded like trees banging the hull. The ship rose and fell with the waves, and several times the ship struggled to reach the top of a wave only to slide down the other side so fast the bow drove into the next. The ship slowed and surged, twisted and lurched.
Tanner climbed into the other bunk and moaned for a day and a night. The cook brought food and Tanner threatened the man’s life if he didn’t get it away from him. He filled a large bowl with vomit but was too weak to take it to the rail and dispose of the vile contents.
Carrion remained in contact with the dragon during the entire storm and felt nothing. However, the following day dawned cleared, and the sea calmed. Carrion ate a massive meal while Tanner picked at his. Tanner had emptied his bowl, but still didn’t feel like eating.
Carrion said, “Let me tell you about Breslau so far. We flew east to the mountains and then south. The land is dry. More than dry, it’s a desert of a kind I have never seen. There is little sand. It is rock, bare and dark brown or gray. Almost nothing grows.”
“People?”
“Not even a road, so far.”
“Dragons?”
“We’re going slow and trying to spot them before they see us, but so far there have been none. Even finding a deer, goat, or pig to eat has been hard. There are just not enough animals or plants for anything to live. I guess that it would be more accurate to say there is no water to support life.”
Tanner said, “It strikes me odd that you’re talking about no water when we’re on a ship.”
“You won’t be laughing when you see it. We’re going to circle further south tomorrow. I want to see what’s down near that big river on the map.”
“Instead of flying closer to Breslau City?”
“Calm yourself down. We have ten more days, at least. The Captain has never been to that river, and he knows of nobody who has. When I questioned him, he said that ships were only allowed to make port in the capital. We know nothing is north of there because it’s just too dry.”
“That leaves the river to the south, but why are you so interested in it?”
Carrion tore off more bread and chewed as he spoke. “Something the Captain said. A small thing, really, but maybe important. While we were planning, he said that it was almost like any ships visiting were shunted to the capital. They were told they were unwelcome further south. That makes me wonder why.”
“All visiting ships had to go to only the one port?”
“That’s what he said.”
“That is odd.”
Carrion reached for another piece of bread. “If they didn’t want ships sailing down there, we have to ask, why not?”
Tanner shrugged. “I can’t think of an answer that question.”
“And I don’t think we should go to Breslau City until we have an answer or, at least, a suspicion. Ever since I first saw that river, I wondered about it. There is no name, no towns or cities listed, but other than the smaller river that flows by Breslau Castle, it is the only river I see on the map.”
“I don’t understand your concern, but go take a look.”
Carrion snorted before saying in the tone a father uses with his young son when teaching him. “Water. Freshwater. To me, that says the banks of
the great river should be green. Farmers should be irrigating crops. There should be people living on both sides, in fact, there must be.”
“Because you say so?”
Carrion said softly, “Take another look at the Captain’s chart. Ask yourself, how many people live in that city? Then ask yourself one more thing: What do they eat? Because it is obvious, there is not enough farmland around the city to feed them all.”
Picturing the chart in his head, Tanner realized Carrion was right. Smiling, Tanner said, “Listen to me. Since I’m in charge of this mission, or task, or whatever it is, I order you to fly over that river and see what’s up with it.”
“Yes, sir.” Carrion rolled over and pulled the covers over his head as he went to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Carrion rested the following day, checking in with the red a few times, but also allowing the dragon to recuperate and rest from all the flying. Tanner made a hand drawn copy of the Captain’s chart on a smaller piece of paper. He excluded all the drylands to the north, as well as the far south. What remained was the circular bay and the large river. He indicated the mountain range that isolated the coast from the inland.
On the next day, as Carrion lay on his bed and closed his eyes to enter the mind of the dragon, Tanner reminded him. “Okay, I know where your red is. Now and then I want you to pull back from his mind enough to let me know where you are and what you see. I’ll sketch it on my map.”
“I know. I heard you the first three times.”
Tanner settled back and waited. He had managed to locate an unused chair. They still told the crew Carrion was suffering seasickness, which made them both amused and sympathetic.
Later, Carrion muttered, “I see the river in the distance. It’s at the base of the mountains where three smaller rivers converge.”
Tanner didn’t answer. The dragon was exactly where they wanted to begin the search, but first, they wanted to fly over the mountainous area in search of green dragons that might be hostile. For that reason, Carrion intended to fly high enough that being seen from the ground was almost impossible.
