"Now, there are a few other considerations we must keep in mind with a man overboard. He might be injured. In a battle, rigging can come down and cast a man overboard, often breaking an arm or leg. I've seen it happen in battles time and time again," Wily said. "Getting an injured man on board can be the most difficult part of the process. Anne Driden, how would you order a duty to get a wounded man back on board. Let's assume the dinghy is far away, pulling back to the ship. The drowning crewman has two broken arms and only the loop on the rope is keeping his head above water by the side of the ship. If we pull up that rope, the crewman could fall out of the loop. What do you do?"
Driden didn't hesitate for a minute. "I'd get a duty crew to tie lines to another strong crewman and he would go over the side. He's there to secure the wounded sailor in the water and we would pull them both up, sir."
"How many crewmen would you want in that pulling detail, Driden?" Wily asked.
"I'd want four men per body being pulled from the water, sir," Driden answered.
"That is a correct answer. I see the dinghy has reached our Mr. Blithe. Pull in the lifeline and coil it up. We should move to the forecastle to meet our shipmate and congratulate him on the success of his trial." There was just the oddest tone of disappointment in First Officer Wily's voice, or at least it sounded like that to some of the midshipwizards.
The dinghy managed to row its way to Halcyon. It was Dart's hand that reached out to pull his friend in. "Sink me, Hal, how do you get into these troubled waters?"
The sea dragon stopped bellowing when it saw Halcyon in the small vessel.
"Me! I was just standing there." Halcyon couldn't believe what his friend was saying. His shivering form struggled into the boat.
"At ease, Mr. Blithe," ordered Merand from her position at the tiller. She was staring hard at Halcyon. A grim look filled her face. "Dart, throw him a blanket. He needs to cover himself. Officers must appear decent in front of the crew. Mr. Blithe, Officer Wily used you as an example. That is his right as an officer of the ship. I don't appreciate what he did to you. After this lesson is over, you will dress yourself in a new work uniform and come to my wardroom. I would have a private word with you. You keep that blanket about you on deck. I don't want the crew seeing a good officer in less than his best. You will not regain that deck as a drowned rat. Understood?"
"Yes, ma'am." Suddenly Blithe felt miserable and he didn't even know why.
The tone of Merand's voice seemed so stern that the rest of the midshipwizards kept quiet as they rowed back to the ship.
When they reached the side of the ship, the dragon's head twisted to look at them all. "Told you," the dragon thought at Halcyon.
He thought back, "I know you did and thank you for the warning. Next time I'll listen."
A rope ladder unfolded itself down the side of the ship and sea dragon. Before any of the other midshipwizards could go for it, Merand ordered, "We'll all ride the dinghy up the winches. We won't be using the rope ladder. When we make the deck, the rest of you get out first and, Dart, you stay in front of our Mr. Blithe until he reaches his wardroom. If Aberdeen Hackle is there you tell him he's needed on deck."
There were questioning looks from all the other midshipwizards, but none of them asked about the odd order. Alvena Merand was the first-class midshipwizard. To these other officers-in-training, her word was as good as the captain's. They would do as ordered.
The winch lines followed the ladder down to their position at the side of the heaving dragonship. Hands reached out to attach the guide wires to the cleats at the stern and bow of the dinghy. The dinghy slowly moved up the side of the dragon and then the side of the warship. Wily and the rest of the midshipwizards were at the railing to help them off the boat.
"Well done, Mr. Blithe. I truly appreciate you being available for my lesson. No ill effects, I trust?" Wily asked.
"None, sir." Inwardly Halcyon didn't appreciate the dunking. He knew he could do nothing about it. The officer had needed an example and this time he was it.
"That's the lesson for today. All of you fetch your boots. I imagine our good captain is going to want to set all the sails again. We should reach our duty station in three days if this wind keeps up. Carry on, all of you." The first officer moved toward the bow of the ship as the trumpet signals for full sail blared from the forecastle.
Tupper handed Halcyon his boots. "That should be the last time you volunteer information to an officer needing an example, right, Hal?" Tupper was smiling when he said it, but there was a tone of concern in his voice.
"The water was a bit cold, but quite refreshing really," Halcyon lied as he took his boots and kept the blanket tight around his body.
"Mr. Haywhen, you get yourself to your duty station and help with the sails. Mr. Blithe, you have your orders, carry them out." Merand glared at the two briefly and went belowdecks.
"I don't know what got her in a bundle, but we better get you dressed, Hal." Dart led the way below the forecastle down to the middle blast-tube deck and the midshipwizard wardroom. As they moved belowdecks Dart kept up the conversation. "I've had lessons on a man going overboard at least twice a year since I joined the navy. Sink me if I've ever seen a man thrown overboard in the middle of the high seas. Did you do something to make Mr. Wily mad, Hal?"
As they entered the wardroom, Lieutenant Junior Grade Hackle was on Halcyon like a leech.
"Where's your uniform, Blithe?" Hackle was twisting his hands in glee. "There will be marks in the book for being out of uniform."
Dart went to attention. "Mr. Hackle, Mr. Blithe was in an exercise with the first officer. He had to take his uniform off at the officer's order. I've been asked to tell you that you are needed on the quarterdeck, sir."
"Really?" There was a look of surprise on Hackle's face. "Well, why didn't you say so sooner, man?" He rushed out of the wardroom as if he were on fire.
"Sink me if that lieutenant isn't the worst officer in the entire navy. I swear he's a Maleen secret weapon. Hal, the gods only know what our Alvena Merand has in mind for you, but you better get your sorry butt over there double quick. I'll see you on deck when she's finished with you. Luck to you, sailor." Dart slapped his friend on the back and left.
Halcyon got dressed and moved through the lower blast-tube deck to the starboard side of the lower deck. There was a marine guard at the hatch. Blithe looked at the man, not knowing exactly what to do.
The marine made it easier for him. "You knock on the hatch and if she is of a mind, she says to come in. You keep knocking until you get an order from her."
Halcyon knocked on the wardroom hatch.
"Come in, Blithe."
The room appeared exactly like his wardroom, except it smelled like flowers instead of the old-sock smell he'd become accustomed to in his quarters.
"Ma'am, Halcyon Blithe reporting as ordered, ma'am." Halcyon held his salute.
Midshipwizard Merand was pacing nervously when Halcyon entered the room. She returned his salute. "Drop your pants and stand at attention, Midshipwizard."
"Ma'am?" Halcyon couldn't believe what he just heard.
"Drop them now," she whispered the order out.
Turning beet red he did as instructed. Standing at attention, he couldn't remember a worse day in his life.
"You have a problem, Mr. Blithe," she said, speaking quietly and looking at his hips.
"Ma'am, I'm cold. I can't help how I am. What we are doing right now is not proper." Halcyon couldn't remember being so embarrassed.
"No, you idiot. Look at your thigh. You have the mark of the demon on you," Alvena quietly said.
Halcyon looked down at the small demon head with horns on his thigh. It had grown a bit larger than he remembered when he looked at it months ago.
"The entire ship knows of your demon heritage. That's not a problem, as hundreds of people throughout the navy have the same heritage, especially among white-hairs. Your highly respected family wields great power in the admiralty. Th
eir skills at magic use are legendary in the cause for Arcania's freedom. How can they not have told you about this special and feared mark and what it means? Pull up your pants, man, and sit down." She sat as well, kicking a chair out beside her for him to use.
"The mark wasn't on my thigh until I gained my magical power," Halcyon said. "No one from my family has ever claimed such a mark before. Naturally, since I'm an adult I don't appear undressed around others at the castle. What does it mean?"
"How can you live in this modern time and not know about demon marks?" Alvena asked. "Everyone talks about them, especially when the month of demons occurs each year."
"My family hates its demon heritage," Halcyon said. "Seven generations ago a half-human, half-demon baby was born to the Blithes and the entire family has spent their lives trying to live it down. The family gives its sons and daughters extra instruction in fighting demons, but that's it. We have family magic items unusually effective in killing demons, but we never talk about what that demon blood does to us."
"I shouldn't be the one having to tell you this," Merand said. "Your father or your uncles should have done it if they found out about the mark. Sailors, especially sailors with no magical ability, are an extremely superstitious lot. In our navy, they have good reason, as our magic often attracts the attention of powerful enchanted creatures from the depths of the sea and the skies above. The older you get, the more that mark is going to look like a horned demon. What it means is that during times of stress there is a chance that you could turn into the type of demon that sired that half child so many generations ago. If any of the crew sees it, you're marked as a demon yourself. No one will want to serve with you. Normally, I'm supposed to report such marks. You would be given land duty useful to the navy, but you would never be allowed to officer a ship of the line."
"Why are you being so kind to me?" Halcyon asked. The thought of not being able to serve in the navy chilled Halcyon. He had denied himself his heritage for five years, thinking he would have to serve in the army. The proudest day of his life happened when his father told him he had come into his magical power. All he ever wanted was to serve in the Arcanian navy.
Alvena stood up and lifted her duty uniform. There was a large bandage tied around her slender waist. She lifted that to show the exact same mark Halcyon had on his thigh. It was a darker color and more of the demon's skull revealed itself on her mark.
"Don't let the crew see your mark. Tie a rag around your leg to keep it covered. You never know when some idiot of a superior officer will throw you in the water again." She was smiling when she said this to him. "It will be our secret until you turn into that fearful demon and we have to kill you. I'm told when the demons come into our bodies they have their own agenda and don't take kindly to others around them. Until then, when we dock get some tomes on demons. Know your enemy and they hold less fear for you. You have the makings of a good officer. I want to see you command your own ship. Someday I know I'm going to be doing the same. Carry on, Mr. Blithe."
He stood. "Aye, aye, ma'am." Saluting, he left her wardroom. There was a lot to think about. He shuddered, wondering about his fate, and the thought of turning into a demon filled him with a new fear.
his majesty's articles of war: article ix
Dwarves, elves, gnomes, orcs, ogres, and any other humanoid race met in the line of duty or in battle shall be treated as a human and not an animal. If any officer, mariner, or soldier or other as aforesaid treats such individuals or acknowledged enemies as less than human on board His Majesty's ship, every such person so offending, and being convicted thereof by the sentence of the court-martial, shall be punished with death, or such other punishment as the nature and degree of the offense shall deserve and the court-martial shall impose.
The ship's hourglass hung on a wire off the mizzenmast. The lantern beside it lit the glass, showing the last grains of the hour sifting down to the bottom. Halcyon twisted the sand timer and promptly rang three clangs of the ship's bell to mark the heart of the late watch.
Lieutenant Pierce Solvalson commanded the night watch. He was leaning on the port railing looking out to the sea. There wasn't a moon out, but the stars were providing plenty of light in the night sky.
For several nights now, Halcyon had worked with this lieutenant, who was only two years older than Blithe. Halcyon found him a friendly, talkative fellow. Right then there was a look of pain on the officer's face.
"Is there anything wrong, sir?" Halcyon asked.
"Mr. Blithe, you have no idea how lucky you are to begin your service on a dragonship of the line," the lieutenant said, continuing to look out to sea.
"I'm sure you are right, sir." Halcyon didn't know what else to say.
"You have no idea what I'm talking about, but I'm going to tell you," Pierce said as he turned to give an order to the waiting sailor. "Carstars, bring us up mugs of dunick, and hurry. We've got to feed the dragon in this hour and I want to be wide awake when that big dragon head slurps up its ration."
Dunick was a nasty brew made from blackened bread and oats with some herbs thrown in to cut the bitter taste. It was all the rage among the seamen and officers alike aboard the ship. Halcyon hated the vile mixture. He'd brought his own tea along and substituted his drink for the dunick whenever possible. However, he was going to have to drink with the lieutenant tonight.
"No, Mr. Blithe, you're lucky because you don't have to worry about splinters."
"Splinters, sir?" Halcyon stood by the lieutenant, clueless about where this conversation was heading.
"Splinters, midshipwizard, were almost the death of me when, not three years ago, I was a midshipman like yourself. I was serving on the frigate Gold. She was a captured Drusan fifth-rater and well put together," the lieutenant said with relish at the telling of his tale. "We were in a blockade off of the capital city of Easta. The enemy decided they wanted to test our mettle and came sailing out, bold as you please, right at dawn. I'm guessing they thought to catch us napping. Ten ships of the line, all filled with Maleen troops, they were. They wanted to board us, but we weren't having any of that."
Seaman Carstars came up from the galley with the steaming mugs of dunick. Brewed constantly on the ship's stove, for the night watch, the drink was credited with making the Arcanian navy as powerful as it seemed to the enemy. Some said the longer dunick brewed in the pot the better it was. Halcyon thought burnt anything was vile, hot or cold.
Halcyon took a sip from his mug, hoping it would help the headache he seemed to be plagued with lately.
"Carstars, gather the others and begin bringing the ten bales of hay up to the forecastle. Don't forget the sack of sugar and the bucket of tannin oil." Solvalson took a slug of his drink and continued with his story. "Come with me, Blithe, we'll go to the forecastle to supervise the feeding. Anyway, there I was, officer of a thirty-pound blast-tube crew. We'd gotten off three shots as bold as you please before the enemy got off one of theirs. That one salvo from a second-rater was all it took. Look at this."
The lieutenant lifted his shirt to reveal a long row of jagged scars all along his left side.
Halcyon had never seen so many scars on one man before. Halcyon was shocked, standing there looking at the chest bathed in the mainmast lanternlight. It was a mass of puckered ridges etched along Solvalson's side.
The lieutenant put his shirt down and continued walking. "Nasty, aren't they? Those are all from splinters. A thirty-pound enemy ball hit between blast-tube ports and shattered our area. I remember it like it happened seconds ago. The wood of the railing and blast-tube port exploded like a thousand arrows shot all at once. My body hurled to the starboard railing, and everyone else in my crew died in that blast. I woke up to see the surgeon taking out the last of twenty splinters. Some of them were longer than my arm. That's why you're lucky, Blithe."
"I don't understand. Enemy rounds can still crash into our ship," Blithe replied.
"Dragon hulls are flesh-and-blood. When a ball hits them, half
the time they bounce even from close range. A sea dragon's hide is tough. When they do penetrate, the shots make a hole. It's only when they hit an oak support beam on the deck side that they cause splinters. Odds of that happening are low, making sailors serving on our dragonship of the line much happier about going into battle. No, Halcyon, from the lack of splinters alone you should consider yourself lucky to serve on this warship."
As they climbed the steps to the forecastle, Halcyon couldn't agree with the lieutenant more. Not for the first time that night, he rubbed his forehead. There was an aching pressure building there. Halcyon strongly suspected it was the cost of maintaining the weather spell for so long. He had headache powders in his sea chest, and he would take them when he had a free moment. Right now he wanted to help with the feeding process. He took the bucket of tannin oil from the sailor and dunked his hand into the thick stuff. He wanted to try mentally talking with the sea dragon again. With the touch of the oil, the familiar tingling of his body told him that the magical essence of the oil coursed through his veins. He started pouring the oil on the ten bales of hay.
"Seaman Carstars, don't use more than half that sugar bag. Spread it thinly over the oil trails Officer Blithe makes on the hay," Solvalson ordered.
"Come eat," Halcyon mentally called to the dragon.
"Smells good," the sea dragon answered back.
The huge dragon head delicately moved between the sail lines and dipped to pick up two bales at once. The head moved away from the deck and a high-pitched trilling came out of the dragon's nostrils.
"There we go; our old boy loves the taste of hay. It can't get it in the wilds," Carstars claimed.
"More sugar," came the thought from the dragon.
Halcyon could feel the sea dragon's pleasure. "Could I put on some more sugar, Lieutenant? It likes that."
"How in the world do you know that, Mr. Blithe?" the lieutenant asked.
"Well, I'm just guessing, of course, sir." Halcyon didn't want everyone to know he could hear the thoughts of the dragon. He could tell that many of the crew already thought he was odd enough just being a rope speaker. Additionally, the news that he had a demon mark, now covered with a bandage under his uniform, served to make Halcyon more secretive.
Midshipwizard Halcyon Blithe Page 11
