Kinker looked around uneasily, but the other fishermen were having a spirited conversation about when the next fight would break out and there was no one else nearby who might eavesdrop on them. “I don't know if I'd talk that way about our Captain, Jenur.”
Jenur stared at Kinker. “Why do you think I care about what Malock hears? He knows what we think about him. He just doesn't care.”
“He doesn't?”
“Of course,” said Jenur. “The boatswain, Banika, she doesn't just make sure the ship doesn't fall apart. She spies on us and reports everything she hears directly to the Captain. There are no such things as secrets on this ship, at least to Malock.”
Kinker disagreed with that (after all, he had plenty of his own secrets that he was determined to take to the grave), but he kept his disagreement to himself.
“As long as we don't try to mutiny, Malock doesn't care what we think about him,” said Jenur. “All he cares about is getting to World's End.”
“That's not exactly true,” said Kinker. “There was a fight five days ago between a human sailor and an aquarian sailor. He broke that up and punished both of them.”
“Oh, right,” said Jenur, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, human-aquarian relations are a big pet issue of his. That's why he's sleeping with Vashnas, you know.”
Kinker could not help but shudder at the thought. “But that's so ... disgusting. Why would any human do that?”
“Who knows?” said Jenur, who Kinker was pleased to see was equally disgusted by it. “All I know is that he's royalty and so he thinks he can do whatever the hell he likes.”
Kinker leaned against the bulwarks and nodded. “That is true. It still boggles my mind, though, and probably always will.”
Jenur looked like she had a lot more to say about that, but at that moment, a loud voice roared from the crow's nest: “Land ho!”
-
Those two simple words acted like a spark to dried wood on the ship. Sailors dropped what they were doing and ran to port, starboard, and bow, leaning over the bulwarks, trying their best to see the land that the lookout had announced. Kinker didn't try, mostly because his eyes were not that good, but he nonetheless walked over to the starboard side, where the rest of the fishing crew had gathered in order to see the island.
It seemed like the entire crew had gathered on the top deck, straining to see the first island of the southern seas. There was a lot of pushing and shoving to get the best spots, but no fights broke out. A few of the smarter sailors climbed the ratlines, putting themselves well above the others, and put their hands over their eyes in order to catch a glimpse of the island.
“Where is it? I don't see it.”
“Vinji! Did you really see an island or did you make another false call?”
A head poked over the side of the crow's nest above, too far up for Kinker to make out any details, and shouted, “I sure as hell see an island. Just because I made a false call once—”
A loud whistle suddenly blew, its sound so loud that it drowned out almost every other noise on the deck. All of the sailors immediately turned to see Malock and Banika standing near the mainmast, Banika holding a boatswain's call in her hand, the obvious source of the whistle.
Malock himself stood on a box, as though trying to make sure that everyone could see him. He waited until all of the sailors were paying attention to him before saying, “I am glad to see that you are all excited to see the first island of the southern seas. It has been many weeks since we last set foot on solid ground and I can confirm that we will definitely be anchoring off the shore of this new island, which Vashnas informs me is called Ikadori Island.”
Excited murmurs swept through the assembled sailors. Jenur had her arms crossed across her chest, but even she looked a bit happy at the thought they were going to be back on land again. Kinker didn't care, as he had only been on the ship for a week or two, but it was hard not to feel the same excitement as everyone else.
Malock raised a hand and all of the sailors fell silent. “We will land on Ikadori Island to pick ikadori peaches from its trees. According to Vashnas, the island has hundreds of ikadori peach trees, all fit for human and aquarian consumption. We will spend three days picking and packing the fruit into the hold and then we'll continue this voyage.”
“You mean we'll finally have something else to eat other than fish and crap?” one sailor yelled from the crew.
Malock nodded, looking as pleased as the yelling sailor. “Yes. We'll pick so many peaches that we'll never have to worry about food again, maybe not even have to use the trawl anymore.”
“Uh oh,” Jenur said in a low voice that only Kinker could hear. “Guess we'll be out of a job if that happens.”
Kinker wasn't sure if she was joking or not, so he simply continued listening to Malock, who said, “For this first expedition, which will begin as soon as the ship is anchored off the island's coast, I am only going to take ten sailors with me onto the shore.”
“Only ten?” another sailor shouted, sounding angry. “But we've been on this ship for so long—”
“We will be a scouting party,” said Malock, not even bothering to apologize for interrupting. “Though Vashnas assures us that we will be safe as long as we do not go beyond the ikadori treeline, we must scout it out anyway just to be sure there haven't been any changes since Vashnas last set foot on the island herself. Therefore I will only take along those who I believe are good hunters, trackers, or fighters.”
There was even more grumbling about that, though a handful of the sailors looked hopeful, as if they thought they had a better chance of being picked than the others.
“I know everyone here really wants to get onto dry land again, but the southern seas are still dangerous,” said Malock. “We've been lucky that we've had sunny skies and calm seas so far, but I don't want any of us letting our guard down around here, not when we've made it this far. So I don't want to hear even one word of complaint from any of you because all of you will get a chance to go on land at some point during the next three days. Got it?”
He said that last sentence with such authority that the sailors stopped grumbling immediately. Even Jenur stopped rolling her eyes.
“Now,” said Malock, looking down on them all like children. “All of you, get back to your stations. Tomorrow morning, I will have Banika put up the list of the members of the first expedition on the mainmast, where everyone can read it. Until then, the wind is still blowing and the sea is still flowing, so get back to work.”
The crowd of sailors dispersed immediately, every sailor going back to his or her station. Kinker did not hear even one word of complaint from any of the sailors, which meant they took Malock's orders very seriously.
What he heard instead, for the rest of the day, was constant speculation about who would be on the first expedition. Gino, for example, seemed convinced that he was going to be picked because he had earned a reputation as a skilled hunter back in his home, while Jenur seemed equally convinced that Malock wasn't going to choose one of the fishermen because they still were the main providers of food and he wasn't stupid enough to risk one of his fishermen until they had a more stable food supply.
The speculations went on for the rest of the day. Kinker did not partake in them much, mostly because they seemed pointless to him. He had no control over Malock's choices and he didn't see how speculating about who would be part of the first expedition would help anything. He just listened to the fishing crew as they worked and to the rest of the sailors at mealtimes endlessly speculate over who would and who wouldn't be picked.
The next morning, at the crack of dawn, Kinker was surprised to see so many sailors already up and about. Usually only the fishing crew was up this early, but as he and the other fishermen emerged from the hatch, the reason became obvious: There was a piece of paper nailed to the mainmast at eye height, which was undoubtedly the list of Malock's picks for the first expedition. That explained why some sailors were walking away with their heads do
wn while others were high-fiving their friends as they returned to work.
“Want to see who's on the list, Kinks?” said Jenur.
“I suppose it wouldn't hurt,” said Kinker with a shrug.
The entire fishing crew came along with them, even though they were supposed to be hauling in the trawl at this time. They quickly reached the mainmast, but due to the large amount of sailors still standing around it, it was impossible for them all to get close enough to read the list.
So Jenur slipped through the crowd and returned a few seconds later. “None of us are on the list.”
“What?” said Gino. “You must be mistaken. Surely there's at least one of us on the list?”
“None,” said Jenur. “Not you, not me, not Kinks, not any of us. Guess I was right when I said that Malock wasn't dumb enough to risk one of us. We're just too special.”
“Besides, Gino, the Captain did say that everyone would get a chance to go onto the island eventually,” Deddio said, slapping the aquarian on the back in his usual upbeat manner. “So maybe you won't get to go there on the first expedition, but perhaps on the next ones you will.”
Gino didn't look at all happy about it, but he nodded and said, “Eh, well, maybe you're right, Ded. Still, that means another couple of days, at the most, on this god-forsaken wreck of a ship. I'm gonna go crazy if I have to stay on here any longer than that.”
Kinker shrugged. “Perhaps we should get back to work, now that we know who isn't going to be on the expedition. The trawl isn't going to pull itself out of the water, after all.”
So the rest of the day went by as normal, although the sailors who were part of the expedition seemed to take great pride in being chosen. In particular, a woman named Kocas Iknor bragged about how she had obviously been chosen for her great skills as a hunter, skills that she had developed back on her home island in the Friana Archipelago. She seemed to think this endeared the others to her, but whenever she wasn't around, the other sailors cracked a lot of inappropriate jokes about her. Kinker should know because he cracked a few himself.
As the Iron Wind continued to sail south, Ikadori Island gradually came into view until eventually everyone could see it. By the time they could, however, it was early evening and getting colder, forcing Kinker to pull his pea coat more tightly around his body. He didn't actually get to see the island, not even when they anchored, because by the time they reached it, the sun had set and night came on like a thief (or so it seemed to him). He wondered if the God of the Sun had decided to end the day early for some reason.
It was only in the morning that Kinker saw Ikadori Island for the first time. After breakfast, he and Jenur joined another group of sailors to the port, which was the side facing the island. Jenur leaned against, almost over, the bulwarks, while Kinker stood by her, trying not to get in the way of the other sailors who were also trying to see the island.
From what Kinker could see of it, Ikadori Island was large. The shore stretched around the island like a ring, while a thick, dark jungle covered almost every inch of available space. The only space on the island that had not been conquered by the jungle was the white, sandy beach. Big, hand-shaped fruit hung off the trees near the shore, which Kinker instantly recognized as ikadori peaches.
No sounds came from the island. Nor was there any movement among the trees. Ikadori Island looked totally uninhabited. There was no sign of civilization, nor any sign of animals either. Of course, if there were any animals, most of them were probably deep inside the jungle. Still, the island seemed unnaturally silent to Kinker, making him grateful that he was not part of the initial expedition.
Malock soon emerged from his stateroom, now wearing a hunting jacket instead of his boat cloak, and gathered the ten sailors he was taking with him to the shore. They stood near the davit, but they weren't the only ones there. Malock had summoned the rest of the crew, too, in order to give some last orders before the expedition departed.
“All right,” said Malock, once the rest of the crew had assembled before him. “While I and my expedition pick fruit and explore Ikadori Island, Banika Koiro will act as captain of the ship. Obey her every word as if it were my own. And if something happens and the expedition is killed, you must weight anchor and depart right away. There is no reason for you to go any further south if I am dead.”
That was a surprisingly humane thing for Malock to say. Kinker supposed he shouldn't be too surprised. Malock did have a human side to him, despite being stern to his crew. Kinker had seen it a few times, but he still thought this was awfully generous of Malock.
After that, it took only a few minutes for the members of the expedition to hop into the rowboats, which were then lowered into the sea. Kinker stood at the port with the rest of the crew that was staying behind, watching as the expedition rowed to the shore of the island and hoping they would be all right.
-
When the expedition got within a couple dozen yards of Ikadori Island's shore, the rowboats got stuck in the shallow waters, forcing the members of the expedition to get out of their boats and haul them the rest of the way. The water was warm, thankfully, but Malock still didn't like getting water in his boots.
As soon as they hauled their boats safely up the shoreline, Malock was glad he had chosen to wear his hunting jacket, rather than his boat cloak. Sand clung to his boots and pants and the dark jungle ahead of them looked like it would snag and tear the clothes of anyone who tried to enter. It was not an inviting-looking place.
Nonetheless, actually setting foot on the sand was wonderful. He had not realized how used he was to the constant motion of the Iron Wind until he found himself unable to stand straight for more than a few seconds on the sand. The other sailors also had a hard time adjusting to the stability, one of them even falling flat on his bum, like he was dizzy.
Despite that, Malock felt far more at home on the sandy beach of the island than he did on the deck of the Iron Wind. Unlike the rest of his crew, Malock wasn't a sea dog. He had never been much interested in the sea until he received his vision from Kano. A part of him wondered if that was why he had lost the entire fleet besides the Iron Wind, but he ignored that and put it down to bad luck instead.
Malock unsheathed his sword and said to his men, “All right, men, we're going to mostly skim the treeline and shore. Don't let your guard down and if anything attacks you, shoot or stab it.”
The sailors all checked their guns and swords. Malock wasn't sure how well the guns would work, as this was the first time they had ever needed to use them on the voyage, but he had taken special care to make sure that the gunpowder and the guns themselves stayed dry. So he figured they would at least shoot, which was all he needed them to be able to do.
Of course, Malock didn't have a gun himself. Guns were the common man's weapon, after all, and Malock was certainly no common man. Instead, he had brought along a Carnagian sword, a special one of a kind blade designed by the best Grinfian blacksmiths in all of the Northern Isles. Having received extensive sword training as part of his education back home, Malock knew he could defend himself if necessary.
To conquer the beach more quickly, Malock split the party into two groups of five (not counting himself). One would go to the left end of the beach, the other to the right. They would then meet back in the middle, right where the rowboats were landed, and report what they found there. Malock stressed to the left party (he was in charge of the right) not to go beyond the treeline, even if they saw something, because they knew very little about what lurked within the jungle.
In case of emergencies, Malock gave the leader of the left party, an aquarian named Danaf, a loud whistle he could blow. The whistle was rather ordinary, aside from the fact that it had been enchanted by a mage to increase its sound, which would ensure that even the sailors aboard the Iron Wind would hear it. So the expedition split up, agreeing to regroup in the center of the beach in half an hour.
Malock was at the head of the right party, his sword unsheathed. He se
nsed the eyes of the men behind him, searching the trees, the sand, the waves, the ikadori peaches; anything that could possibly hide a threat. It was all so quiet and so still that not even the wind was blowing, which only made Malock and his party ever more anxious.
The sun continued its slow, lazy ascent in the sky behind them, its rays reflecting off the white sand. One ray caused something in the sand to glint, causing Malock to raise his sword, signaling to his men to halt.
Without saying a word, Malock approached the glinting object and knelt over it. The object in question was a diamond, similar to the kind that decorated the Temple of Grinf back on Carnag, except much smaller and duller, like it had been there for a while. Malock was surprised that a treasure crab or some other animal attracted to shiny objects had not yet taken it; after all, it was right there for the taking.
“What is it, sir?” said one of Malock's men, a human named Forl Mas. “Is it dangerous?”
Malock reached down and wrapped his fingers around the tiny rock. “It's just a diamond. Possibly Grinfian, by the look—”
He stopped talking when he noticed how the diamond refused to budge, even when he pulled, as if it were attached to something deep beneath the sand. That didn't stop Malock, though. He put his sword aside and, using both hands, tugged at the diamond with all of his might.
A loud pop preceded Malock staggering backwards. Forl caught him before he could fall and said, “Sir, what ... happened ...”
Forl's words trailed off when he spotted the very bony, very human remains of a hand sticking out of the sand, its middle finger now missing.
When Malock saw it, he looked at the diamond in his hand. It was actually a diamond ring that he had pulled out of the sand, a ring with the skeletal hand's missing middle finger still stuck through it. This caused Malock to gasp and, without thinking, hurl the detached finger into the bay. The finger landed in the water with a small splash and sank out of sight.
“You desecrated a grave, captain,” said another sailor, a female aquarian whose name Malock could not recall at the moment. “Do you know what that means, sir?”
The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock Page 6
