by Alex Paul
“Thank you.” Lar pulled the robe over his head.
Arken watched the smoker drift along slowly toward the whul. It appeared to Arken as if the smoker was acting like it posed no threat to the whul. Suddenly, the smoker whipped its tail back and forth. Seawater boiled at the surface from the tail’s force. The smoker shot forward, and its open mouth smashed into the whul’s side.
Water shot up from the collision. With its great jaws clamped down on the whul’s middle, the smoker shook its head from side to side. Blood erupted from the whul’s flank as the smoker drove the whul up and up while still tearing flesh. The smoker lifted the whul half out of the water, and then with one last, mighty surge of its tail, smoker and whul crashed back into the sea. Red blood clouded the blue-green water.
“Lifted a whul, by Kal!” Lar exclaimed. His face turned white like the sea bottom. “I had no idea they had that much power.”
“Look at all the blood!” a sailor yelled.
A red slick spread over the surface, and an overpowering stench filled the air.
“That’s a terrible smell.” Asher’s nose had stopped bleeding, but now he retrieved the red scarf from his tunic pocket and pressed it to his nose to stop the smell.
“It’s the gris sack in the whul’s head. It must have burst,” Lar explained.
“Gris?”
“A smelly, sticky fluid with healing properties,” Lar added.
“You were brave to save him, sir,” Asher complimented Lar. “I salute you, and your service will not go unrewarded.”
“Thank you.” Lar gave a slight shake of his head as his eyes locked with Asher’s. It seemed to Arken that Lar was communicating more than acknowledgement of a compliment from Asher, though Arken had no idea what his gesture meant. “I don’t know if it was bravery or just reflex,” said Lar.
“Unfurl the sail,” the captain barked. “Everyone clear my command deck. Lancon Koman, fly the all clear flag to the escorts.”
“Aye, sir.” Lancon Koman relayed the orders. The crew raced to obey as the cadets filed off the deck.
“I don’t feel well—that smell!” Asher said before he sprinted to the railing after climbing down the stairs to the main deck. He threw up, as Arken stood next to him to make sure Asher didn’t fall overboard.
“You and I shall speak in private.” Arken heard Captain Dunn saying to Lar. “You disobeyed an order. Organize your boys, and then join me in my cabin.”
“Yes, sir!” Lar saluted, and then came down the stairs and turned to Arken. “Donov should lead exercises in my absence since he’s the new salcon, but I understand he’s in the infirmary with Han. Arken, can you lead exercises until I’m finished?”
“I don’t know if they’ll obey me.” Arken felt shocked Lar had asked him.
“Lancon Koman, can you see to it the cadets do as Arken says?” Lar turned to Koman, who was standing at the tiller with the tiller man, making sure he returned to course.
“Sir.” The lancon saluted but looked more amused than stern when he said, “I’ll crack the whip if needed to help the young master.” He winked at Arken.
“Form up for exercise,” Lar ordered. The boys immediately fell into rows across the mid-deck. “Arken will lead.”
Stepping to the front of the class, Arken began exercises with jumping jacks as Lar entered the officer’s quarters.
As Arken led them through sit-ups and push-ups, Arken wondered how Gart would react to him being temporary salcon. Gart glared at him throughout exercises, and at one point, Arken saw Gart mouthed the words, “You’re dead.”
Arken had hoped that the experience of Han almost losing his life might make Gart more philosophical about life and less hateful, but Gart’s behavior just confirmed that he had no forgiveness in his heart at all. Arken was glad when Lar returned, as the boys had finished half their routine.
“Halt!” Arken yelled as Lar approached. Then he thought to add, “A salute to Lar for saving Han.” The boys raised their left arms, thumped their chests with their right arms, and shouted, “Hail Lanth!”
“Thank you, class.” Lar returned the salute. “Han will be fine, he’s resting now in the infirmary. Then he grinned at the class. “I know I don’t need to tell you. Even though I found the water pleasant, there’s no swimming allowed during this voyage.”
The class laughed at the joke, but Arken could see past Lar. The captain had emerged from his cabin door just in time to hear Lar turning the dragging into a joke, and the captain’s face glowed a deep red. But Lar had his back to the captain and hadn’t noticed.
CHAPTER 12
SEASICK ROMANCE
The captain says the River Zash is only days away. I will be glad to see land. Though our scientists and captains believe in the compass, our men do not. I shall reserve judgment and believe in it when I see dry land. How the captains can be so certain we will reach landfall near the River Zash is beyond me. They try to explain their navigation methods: the use of clocks, the stars, and the compass. I smile and nod, but I do not understand.
—Diary of Princess Sharmane of Tolaria
“I’m glad we have a rest time before nightmeal,” Asher exclaimed. He fell back into his hammock, his curly hair bouncing on the canvas, and then snapped his fingers and said, “I win!”
Arken stretched out in his hammock, and it felt so good to be off his feet at last. “What did you win?”
“Nothing?” Asher furrowed his eyebrows.
“But you just said, ‘I win.’”
“Oh that. I always snap my fingers and say that when something good happens, like a nice meal or going to bed at night.”
“But you’re not competing with anyone, so how is it you’re winning?”
“Going to sleep feels so good, I like to say I win because I feel like I’ve won a reward or a contest,” Asher said.
“You’re funny,” Arken pronounced.
“Yes! So you win!” Asher leaned over and punched Arken’s shoulder.
“Ow! How did I just win?”
“Because you have me as a friend to remind you how wonderful your life really is!”
“My shoulder feels like it just lost,” Arken said.
Asher laughed, and then asked, “Does your class always exercise that hard? I’m exhausted!”
“Yes, but you’ll get—”
“Let me guess.” Asher held up a hand. “Used to it?”
They both laughed. The ship rolled on the gentle swell, rocking their hammocks. Slim fingers of sunlight found their way through the roof grating and chased one another across the floor and walls of the cabin.
“I wasn’t that hard on the class, was I?” Arken asked. “I don’t want people to hate me.”
“If that exercise was your idea of not too hard, I’m doomed.”
“Didn’t you exercise at home in Tolaria?”
“Not like that.” Asher scratched his head. “I spent most of my time back home studying.”
“You’ll get in shape,” Arken assured him. “When you shock your body, it responds quickly.”
“They shocked my brain more than my body today.” Asher turned serious. “Are the boys often punished as severely as Han was?”
“Sometimes, but not usually to the point of someone dying.” Arken sat up, stood on his bare feet, and then stretched.
“What are you doing?”
“I felt like yawning, but I have to stand on my feet if I stretch, because otherwise my calves cramp up and my toes go all pointy,” Arken explained as he crawled back into the hammock.
“Why?”
“Why do my feet get all pointy, or why do they not kill cadets when they punish them?” Arken teased.
“Oh, sorry, the toe thing.”
“I knew what you meant.” Arken laughed.
Asher laughed as well, and then added, “The captain didn’t seem to care today if Han died.”
“Don’t talk so loud,” Arken whispered. “You can’t criticize a ship’s captain. That’s mutiny, and they will hang you
for that.”
Asher’s eyes grew wide. “I need to watch what I say.”
“Yes, you do. Or you could be like Han! He meant nothing by his remark.”
“Han is lucky Lar is so brave,” Asher said. “Not many people would have jumped in that water.”
“I hope I’m that lucky tomorrow,” Arken lamented. “I’m sparring with Gart again. He could cripple me this time.”
“Cripple?” Asher sat up to show his alarm. “I thought we are using wooden swords!”
“The leg armor doesn’t cover all the way around the side of the knees or the thigh,” Arken explained. “We’re not supposed to strike our opponents anywhere off armor, but Gart did when we sparred before. And since he already lost his salcon position, he has nothing to lose by hurting me. In fact, I’m pretty sure he said ‘I’m going to kill you’ under his breath today.”
“That’s awful!”
“I know, because one good whack to the side of your leg right here—” Arken touched the side of his thigh “—can lame a person for life.”
“I wonder if that will happen to me?” Asher asked, a sound of fear in his voice. “I haven’t sparred much. We don’t even start military training until we’re sixteen.”
“Sixteen? How do you ever get good at anything? By that age, we’ve been in the military for ten years!”
“Oh, I know. Father thinks we should adopt your training methods, and I agree.”
“He’s right! We have the world’s best officers, all graduates from our Academy,” Arken said. “Honestly, you should tell Lar you’ve barely sparred so he makes sure your opponent takes it easy on you.”
“Good suggestion,” Asher said. “I pray to Tol I survive this journey. With Han’s dragging, a smoker that can sink the ship and attempted to eat Han and Lar as well as a sparring match that can cripple someone, it strikes me that the odds of all the cadets on board surviving the voyage don’t look good!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll look out for you,” Arken promised.
“Thank you.” Asher looked over at Arken. “I appreciate you watching out for me. It’s not easy being brave when you’re smallest,” Asher said.
“Oh, I know!” Arken laughed. The hurt look on Asher’s face made him regret laughing. “I’m not laughing at you. I was smallest until you came on board!”
“So my shipping out with you means you win!” Asher snapped his fingers.
“Who’s Tol? You know, the god you were praying to,” Arken added when Asher looked confused.
“You don’t know of Tol, the main god of Tolaria?” Asher asked, while showing his surprise that any human could not know such an important deity.
“No! Too many gods in the world to keep track of, I guess.”
“Mmm, maybe so, though he’s important to us,” Asher said.
Arken felt his eyelids drooping from his fatigue combined with the heat of the cabin. The soothing sound of water rushing past the hull just a few feet away only added to his need for sleep.
“I have to sleep,” Arken said. Before he heard Asher’s reply, he fell asleep to the sound of the ship’s wooden fittings creaking against the swell. As he drifted off, he imagined the ship was whispering to the sea.
A ringing bell woke him. He glanced over to see that Asher had fallen asleep as well.
“Nightmeal!” Arken poked his roommate.
“What?” Asher yawned and rubbed his eyes.
“I said it’s time for nightmeal. That’s what the bell is for.”
“Time to eat! I win!” Asher said as he came awake. The galley occupied the space below the officer’s deckhouse at the stern behind behind the rowing pit. The room was about twenty-five feet wide and close to thirty-five feet long. It was full of rowdy, noisy boys at long wooden tables with benches on each side. The five ship’s officers and three saldets sat at tables in the front of the room. The common sailors would eat their meal after the officers and cadets finished.
A fresh evening breeze gushed through large, open shutters on both sides of the galley. Arken and Asher waited in the food line as the last rays of sunlight forced their way through the gathering night dew to give the room a reddish glow.
The Sea Nymph and her three escorts had stopped and set anchor for the night in a crescent shaped bay. It was impossible to row safely at night, because once the nightmist set in and obscured the stars and the world all around, no one could navigate. The nightmist came at the same time every day all year round.
They took silver plates, knives, and forks, and then passed in front of a window in the wall that opened on the kitchen, where three cooks dished out food. All the dishware on the ship was silver, for the ship’s healers had learned long ago that it prevented disease in the crew, though no one knew why.
Arken’s stomach rumbled as he drew closer to the food. There were big steaks of gastag and ban, mashed yams, sweet tubers, corn, and beans. The cooks had also prepared cornbread, with a tub of musc berry jelly to smother over it. The cooks dashed all these items on Arken’s plate until it was full. He grabbed a silver mug filled with fresh rin water and went to find a seat.
Asher and Arken sat, and then Han came toward them, also carrying a plate heaped with food like theirs.
“He lives!” Arken cheered.
“Alive but sore.” Han shook his head. “And unpopular, no one will let me sit with them. I guess they think it will reflect badly on them. Can I sit with you?”
“Of course!” Arken slid over to make room. “Anytime, Han. You know I’m your friend.” Arken felt so happy that one of his classmates wanted to be around him in public. He was always happy to have anyone be friendly with him, especially Han, since they were friends, just not in public.
Red welts on Han’s wrists were visible when Han set his bowl and plate down. The red welts matched his red hair.
“Glad, you’ve joined us,” Asher said. “My name’s Asher. I’m the Tolarian ambassador’s son.”
Han tried to turn his head to look at Asher, but winced in pain. “I can’t turn my head to look at you, it’s so sore from the dragging,” Han explained.
“Just sit and take it easy,” Asher said as he grabbed Han’s elbow and guided him to the bench on the same side of the table. “We should call this the misfit’s table: a criminal, a commoner, and a former enemy.”
“But we’re happy,” Arken joked.
“You won’t be happy after sparring with Gart tomorrow.” Han took a bite of ban steak and spoke while he chewed. “He hates you.”
“I know,” Arken lamented. Suddenly the food didn’t seem as appetizing, but he forced himself to take bites so he would have energy the next day.
Han began to laugh, and then he stopped abruptly. “I have to remember not to laugh.” He glared at Calna who sat next to Captain Dunn at the officer’s table. “Not around her. She’ll think I’m laughing at her and have me punished. I’ve never hated anyone so much. If it wasn’t for Lar, she’d have killed me.”
“Why was she so upset by your comment?” Asher asked.
“Don’t you remember what that boy said when the captain introduced her?” Arken asked.
“Oh, about the harse kicking her?”
“I bet that’s true. She—” Han began to say, but just then the three girl Trackers approached them from the opposite side of the table.
“Do you mind if we sit here? It’s crowded,” said one.
“Please, be our guests,” Asher said as the three boys rose to show their respect.
The girls sat opposite them just as Lar rose to give a blessing over their meal. The room went silent as everyone stood and bowed their heads.
Lar started with “Great God Kal, bless King Lor,” the official beginning of every Lantish prayer, which they all learned at an early age. King Lor insisted he come first in the thoughts of his subjects when they prayed. This was especially true for Arken, since the king had granted him his Academy membership.
Arken glanced up and looked around the room while ever
yone else was in prayer. He could have been punished for looking up, but he risked it sometimes to see where people were in a room, because it was difficult to spot people when they were in the middle of a conversation. He noticed that Donov was wearing the salcon tunic and sitting at the officer’s table with Lar, the captain, Calna, and the officers of the ship. Donov seemed content with his head bent in prayer. Arken felt glad, since Donov would be a much better salcon than Gart. Thinking of Gart, Arken searched the room only to find Gart glaring at him. It shocked Arken to see that Gart was not in prayer as well. Arken bent his head quickly.
“Kal, may your food give us strength and courage in war, and your guidance give us wisdom and mercy in life. Amen.”
“Amen.” The cadets repeated the ancient name Amen, the god of completion and finality. Amen and many other gods had been replaced ages earlier by the single god, Kal, who reigned supreme in the hearts of the Lantish people, yet they still called on the ancient god Amen to end their prayers.
“Remain standing,” Lar ordered. “I wish to introduce our saldets. They are Tyo, Yannet, and Rof.”
The three saldets were only a few years older than the cadets. All of them were lean, and all had bad complexions, although Yannet seemed the worst of the three, with red pockmarks on his face. His light, sandy hair was cropped short and lay in a curled mat on his head. But there were bare, circular patches on his scalp. Arken had heard of ringworm before and was surprised they had allowed Yannet to join the ship’s company. Arken decided to give Yannet plenty of room if they passed in the narrow corridors below deck. Ringworm was the last thing Arken needed now.
“These young men were in the Academy just two years ago. Now they’re saldets, or officers in training,” Lar explained. “After this cruise, all of you will receive ship assignments or join the Royal Harsemen, as you see fit. Either way, you will soon receive your first position as a junior officer, or saldet!”
I can’t wait to be a saldet, thought Arken. They moved with an assurance that Arken and the cadets lacked. It had to be because they were officers.
“And, finally, I’d like to introduce our three Queen’s Trackers, training to be ship’s lookouts someday.” Lar spotted them across the room. “They’re at the far table, I see. Their names are Talya—wave for us when I give your name, there, good—Wottle, and Lila.”
