"He's in a hurry," Ombissu commented. He took the telescope from its bracket and studied the small vessel. "A single figure at the stern in priestly habit. This must be he."
Reffurio grunted and Fallassan smiled.
The harbour vessel came alongside just as the water-carrier was casting off. Reffurio and Fallassan waited as the priest came aboard. After a considerable interval a head appeared, then a body in the robe of a priest. A moment later a sea chest was dumped onto the deck by one of the harbour boat’s hands. It looked new. The priest nodded to the three waiting officers and said, without any noticeable regret, "I'm sorry I'm late. My landlady failed to wake me."
Reffurio gave this small, somewhat round-shouldered individual a cold stare. "We nearly sailed without you," he said. "It’s hardly a good start."
"Sailed without me? You couldn’t. I'm mandatory."
"Where we're going, nothing is mandatory," Reffurio said grimly. He turned to Fallassan. "Haul up the anchor and set sail. South Point, then south. This northerly will give us a good start."
"In the Royal Yacht Squadron we would set sail then haul up the anchor when the chain is just about to take the strain. It looks very smart," Ombissu remarked.
"Smart and dangerous. Suppose the anchor snags? You would sail her under. I’m not in the business of taking risks."
"That’s not what I heard. You’ve taken plenty of risks."
"Necessary risks. Risks for gain. Risks for a practical objective. Looking good is not a practical objective."
"It is in the Royal Yacht Squadron."
The priest listened to this exchange with some impatience. "I ought to introduce myself. My name’s Mekbill."
"We know," Reffurio said. "I’m Reffurio and this is Ombissu." The priest nodded coolly, which nettled the two sailors somewhat. Ombissu sensed an underlying arrogance in this cleric which suggested storms ahead - and not in the meteorological sense. In some ways this could be entertaining, but more likely it would just add to the difficulties.
The rocks of South Point were now off the port bow. The strong northerly was driving the waves onto the shore sending up great plumes of spray. Beyond, the tops of the mountains were hidden in low cloud. It was a scene of dull grey sky, dark green forest, black rocks and white waves. The buildings of the town were half hidden in the light mist. The ship cleared South Point and the shoreline fell away to the east. They were now in the open sea and the waves grew noticeably rougher. The sailors watched the land slowly disappearing behind the stern. They were all thinking the same thought: they were leaving the familiar safety of their home, perhaps for ever. They were sailing into the unknown. Reffurio looked ahead, over the bows, to the great grey ocean. He then looked up at the sails, all set, all stiff as boards in the following wind. Not only were they sailing into the unknown, they were sailing into it as fast as they could.
*
It was the fifth day of the voyage. The northerly had veered to the south-west and Techyspay was close-hauled on the starboard tack, her bows carving through the grey sea. With the change in wind direction, the biting chill had gone but it was still sunless with occasional squalls. Reffurio and Ombissu were on deck, revelling in it all. A figure caught their attention as it slowly emerged through the forward hatch. The two seamen watched in wry amusement as the priest approached them. It was his first appearance on deck since the voyage began.
"Good morning, Mekbill," Ombissu said. "Are you sufficiently well?"
"Sufficiently - yes. The seasickness appears to be over. I can now carry out my duties." He held up the black wooden box he was carrying to indicate what he was about to do.
Reffurio and Ombissu stared at it. "Ah. You are about to bless the voyage," Ombissu eventually said.
"Of course. This voyage has been in progress for five days without being blessed. This is a very unsatisfactory situation which I will now address."
"We’ve managed quite well so far," Reffurio muttered under his breath. Ombissu nudged him warningly.
Ombissu said smoothly, "Please feel free to carry out your duties, Mekbill."
The priest walked unsteadily towards the bows. He hung the strap of his box round his neck, opened the lid and removed a stone bottle. He removed the stopper then sprinkled the blessing fluid over the bows while reciting a short incantation. He then walked down the ship sprinkling fluid on both sides.
"I’m afraid I’m an unbeliever," Reffurio said to Ombissu.
"The blessing does no harm," Ombissu said indifferently. "Maybe, even, there is something in it."
"I disagree. It assumes that we are in the hands of the gods, but the truth is we are in our own hands. This blessing implies that we need do nothing more. The priest has sprinkled the fluid and all will be well. It encourages laziness and complacency and is thus dangerous."
"Fallassan believes in it."
"Yes, I know. Luckily she hedges her bets by working hard, being vigilant."
"And why? Because she believes that the gods only help those who are deserving."
Reffurio sighed. "That’s true. The logic moves full circle."
Mekbill approached the two officers. He smiled and bowed.
"The blessing is complete. Do your duty and success is guaranteed."
"Thank you," Reffurio said drily. "We will endeavour to comply."
The discussion continued that evening. During routine sailing, the senior officers ate together. It was a leisurely affair, enlivened by talk and drink. Now that his seasickness was over, Mekbill joined Reffurio, Ombissu, Fallassan, and Voyalla at the table. Darbolin was on watch.
The talk began, as usual, with a discussion of the voyage so far. They had sailed south for five days. Their country’s coastline followed a south-east course for two day’s sailing, then abruptly turned north-east. Consequently they had left the known land far behind. Because their ships always hugged the coast, in only five days they had reached the unknown. So far, though, the unknown had consisted of very uninteresting grey ocean.
This had surprised nobody. Five days was nothing in Ombissu’s opinion, but this was a dinner table of people who were prepared to talk at length about nothing very much, because talking was one of the few entertainments on a long voyage.
Ombissu’s attention was leaving the conversation. For no reason that he was aware, he was seeing his surroundings with great clarity. As it was night, the cabin was lit only by four candles swinging in their holders from beams. The swinging candles created moving light and shade; occasionally his colleagues would appear quite sinister as long shadows moved across the faces. Beyond the pool of light over the table was darkness.
Accompanying the conversation of his colleagues was the sound of the ship. As Techyspay drove through the waves, the timbers creaked in sympathy. An occasional loud crack indicated when the ship had hit an unusually large wave, while beyond the creaks were the high harmonics of the wind rushing through the rigging. They were familiar, comforting sounds.
Ombissu chewed on his stewed parlani contentedly. They had a plentiful supply of these birds - he had made sure of that. Thirty of them were penned in the afterdeck hold, well fed and cossetted. They would be laying eggs soon and then there would be chicks. This self-perpetuating source of fresh food was essential, in his opinion. All it required to sustain it was a large supply of the marrada nuts that was the birds’ sole food. It was a welcome change to eat parlani rather than the salted meat of standard ship’s fare.
They were dining in quite a spacious cabin, an unusual luxury created by Techyspay’s lack of armament. There had been much heated discussion regarding the ship’s design. But the number of masts, the profile of the bow, the length to width ratio had been easy decisions compared with the furore over her armament. There were those who had wanted to fill her with cannons, those who wanted no cannons at all, and the usual compromisers who wanted just light armament. In the end, those that wanted no armament at all won the argument. Ombissu, who had instinctively felt the need for the comfort o
f cannons, had been persuaded by the logic. They were exploring the unknown. Any enemies that they met would thus have an unknown level of technology. If they were more technologically advanced than themselves then all the cannons in the world would not save them; in this situation you needed speed so as to escape. The disarmers had posed a very pertinent question: under what circumstances would you use the cannons? Answer: when you met a less well-armed enemy ship. This seemed such an unlikely circumstance that it could be disregarded and thus Techyspay was unarmed. This gave the ship’s designers a number of ways to improve performance. No cannons meant less weight, less volume and fewer crew. The structure need not be designed to hold the weight of the cannons. The ship could be designed for a long voyage conducted at great speed. The designers thought that there was a maximum speed that could be achieved by a ship and they designed Techyspay with the intention of attaining it. Ombissu felt that they had succeeded. Techyspay had a huge sail area, a long and narrow hull and a sharply profiled bow. Ombissu doubted if a faster ship could be built.
Techyspay was not without arms, however. Each crew member was equipped with a rifle and each had been trained in its use. Fifty riflemen was a formidable force, particularly as the rifles were of the new breech-loading type. They could be overwhelmed by superior numbers, Ombissu felt, but not by superior technology.
He was drawn back into the real world by a sudden flare-up between Reffurio and Mekbill. Ombissu knew it would happen some time in the immediate future but he was slightly surprised it had happened so quickly. Reffurio disliked and distrusted the worship of gods while Mekbill was in the business. It seemed he was also a pugnacious arguer completely unimpressed by Reffurio’s obvious toughness. Ombissu began to feel a reluctant respect for this priest.
They were arguing about conversion of any heathens they might meet on their travels. As this was the least of their problems, Reffurio felt this an exercise in futility, and said so.
Mekbill countered, "We must be prepared. We may find other races and they will obviously be unbelievers. It is my duty to convert them to our religion."
"And how will you do that?" Reffurio asked. "For a start they won’t speak our language. I don’t see how you can get over an abstraction like religion to people who have no concept of the idea without a common language."
"We will have to learn their language anyway in order to achieve anything," Mekbill replied.
"They could also learn ours, of course," Reffurio said.
"That assumes they are of equal intelligence," Mekbill replied.
"Of course. A reasonable assumption, don’t you think?"
"No, I don’t. It is very unlikely we will meet beings of our intelligence."
Ombissu was amazed at the arrogance.
"We’re unique, are we?" he asked sardonically. "You believe we are the only highly intelligent beings on this world.?"
"The gods made us to be superior over the animals. It follows that everything is our inferior. So - to answer your question - yes, we are unique. We are in no danger unless the gods decree otherwise. So we must appease them." With that, Mekbill stared hard at Reffurio and Ombissu.
Fallassan observed the stare and felt it was justified. Reffurio and Ombissu were far too cavalier in their attitude towards the gods. They had barely concealed their disbelief when the ship was being blessed. It made the success of the voyage all the more problematic.
This had been one of the arguments put forward for not arming the ship: they would never meet a superior enemy, therefore there was no need for cannons. Indeed, it had been argued that there was no need for rifles, but this fatuous argument had been rapidly quashed. Even if there were no dangerous enemies there was always animals to hunt and it was unthinkable to go back to the bow and arrow.
Fallassan wondered whether she should speak her mind. She was naturally rebellious and had no fear, but she was conscious of being in a team whose stability was essential to success. She also liked and respected Reffurio and was beginning to feel the same towards Ombissu. But they were both iconoclasts. She was surprised that she felt this way about Ombissu. After all, he was part of the establishment, a well regarded member of the King’s circle. But after listening for a few more minutes to the argument between Mekbill and Ombissu, she decided to intervene.
"It does not follow that we are the only beings of high intelligence. There may be brothers and sisters in other lands who are exactly like us, made by the gods in exactly the same way. This voyage may be governed by the gods to allow a meeting of all these separate races to come together and thus to worship them as one."
Ombissu turned to Mekbill. "There. What have you to say to that?"
Mekbill gave Fallassan a cold and disappointed stare. "I have heard that argument before. It is not the opinion of the priesthood but of certain freethinkers, which seem to include you, Fallassan, I am sorry to say."
"Just because it does not have the favour of the priests does not mean that it is wrong," Reffurio said bluntly. "The priests do not have a monopoly on intelligence. In fact it is time the priests showed a little humility now and then. They should admit ideas that are outside the enclave the priesthood has trapped itself in."
"You should think yourself lucky that the King allows freethinkers like yourself to express their opinions. A hundred years ago and you would have been executed. In fact, our toleration and moderation surprises me."
"Does it? Well let me tell you....."
"And that’s enough," Ombissu said before Reffurio could get in his retort. "This conversation is getting outside the bounds of reasonable discussion. Whatever our personal feelings, we need to get on with each other. This will be a long and possibly dangerous voyage. We will meet difficulties and setbacks. In order to overcome them we need to help each other, and that cannot be achieved by bickering."
"May I say something, Ombissu?" Mekbill asked.
"If it is constructive - yes."
"My opinion of you and Reffurio has not changed because of this argument. I respect you both and will work with you to the utmost of my ability."
Ombissu was surprised and pleased. "Good, I’m glad you said that, Mekbill. Now let us have some more of this mead."
Fallassan smiled to herself. It was nice to know that the ship’s executive officer agreed with her opinions.
Chapter 18
Ombissu was dining alone. An illness among the junior officers had necessitated a change in the rota which had meant the communal senior officers’ dinner had had to be postponed. He did not mind being alone for a while. It was difficult to avoid one’s fellows even in the comparatively luxurious accommodation that Techyspay provided. He had the latest work of the currently fashionable novelist Pengarina propped up against a pickle jar. It was heavy going, what with the self-conscious use of difficult words and the convoluted sentences. The plot was straightforward enough though; thin, even.
He had just reached the point where the hero - a feeble fellow - was about to leave for the forest to escape the trials of family life when there came a thunderous knocking on the door.
"Enter," Ombissu called.
A sailor appeared.
"Reffurio requests your presence on deck, Ombissu."
"Very well," Ombissu sighed. "I’ll come."
On reaching the deck he saw the officers all staring intently ahead. He immediately saw the problem. Directly ahead was an intensely black cloud stretching from horizon to horizon. It made a menacing contrast to the sun overhead. He also noticed a regular deep swell underlying the small waves. It was a strange, eerie phenomenon.
"I don’t like it, Ombissu," Reffurio said by way of greeting.
"A very large storm, certainly."
"More then that, I think. We have been watching the clouds through the telescope and they are moving very rapidly, violently almost."
Ombissu looked from horizon to horizon. "It’s very even; there’s no way round it."
"No. But I think we ought to sail to port. The wind is moving w
ithin the storm from starboard to port. If we go to port we might catch a southerly. We think the wind in the storm is moving in a circle."
"Ah, like a very large cyclone."
"Exactly. If we catch a southerly we will be through it that much more quickly."
"I agree. Ten points to port then."
They sailed slowly towards the storm. The swell was deepening and the winds were growing stronger. They began taking in the sails.
The comparative calm disappeared in a stupendous fury. Huge waves crashed over the bows. The masts circled madly as the ship was buffeted by the ferocious wind and the waves. The heaviest rain any of them had known came at them almost horizontally. If nothing was done - and very quickly - they would be driven under.
"We’ll have to heave to," Ombissu shouted at Reffurio above the tumult, "Then get the hands off the masts. They’ll be lost if they stay up there. Then we’ll all get below and sit it out."
Reffurio shouted out the orders just as a huge wave swept over the side. It hit him and knocked him off his position by the helm and swept him onto the port side. He grabbed frantically at a rail but another wave engulfed him. Ombissu was about to go to the rescue when Mekbill dashed across the appallingly slippery deck but yet another wave swept Reffurio away from Mekbill’s outstretched hand. Mekbill, holding onto the rail somehow managed to take off his robe with the other. He tossed the end to Reffurio who, with a desperate lunge, grabbed a sleeve. They waited between waves, and as the ship tilted away from Reffurio, he ran across the deck and joined Mekbill at the rail. They were still in great danger; the waves and the wind were growing in intensity. Fallassan was still on deck but no-one else could be seen. She had moved along the rail. Somehow she had found a rope which she had fastened round her waist. She threw it towards Mekbill but the wind blew it away. Desperately she tore off her tunic, wrapped it in a ball and tied the end of the rope around it. Mekbill and Reffurio watched as, hanging on with one hand, she lobbed the rope towards them. Mekbill caught it and tied the end round his waist. Holding on to each other, Mekbill and Reffurio staggered across the deck towards Fallassan. The sea was now knee-deep over the deck, green and cold and infinitely dangerous. They reached her and they held on to the comparative safety of the wheelhouse. Fallassan signalled in the direction of the hatch and they waved comprehension. When the ship tilted in their favour they dashed to the hatch and held on to the handle as another wave engulfed them. Then the hatch was open and they dropped down amidst a torrent of water. They closed the hatch and they were below.
The First Riders Page 13
