The slow lulling of the ship put Ulfnar right to sleep. He didn’t even have to try. He would be out as soon as his head hit the pillow. The soothing ocean movement would rock even the most serious insomniacs to sleep. He understood why sailors heeded the call of the sea as often as possible.

The cabin he was given was small, even by ship standards. It was essentially a closet with a bed. There was less than a foot of space to move around in and only a cubby for storage. A small candle served for light should he need it. There wasn’t even a porthole for him to look out of.

So, he spent most of his time on deck, amid the deck hands. He tried to stay out of their way as much as possible. They had made it clear that their job was more important than him or his safety, and they would have no qualms about running him down or overboard if he stood between them and their duties.

He would have rather been on the quarterdeck, as that was far less busy than the main deck, but he had been told in no uncertain terms to stay away from the quarterdeck. It appeared that Captain Jeolm didn’t want him anywhere near the helm.

The sea air was quite refreshing, especially after the stink of the Docks. He’d hid out there so long that he nearly forgot what fresh air smelled like. It was clean and pure without the ever-present hint of shit that permeated all of Teorton. The only smells were of wood, saltwater, and tar.

For the first two days, he dined with Jeolm in his cabin. Compared to the one Ulfnar had been given, it was positively spacious. Compared to the garderobe in the palace where he took care of his bodily functions, Jeolm’s cabin was small. There was only room for a bed in one corner, a desk in another, and a cabinet in a third. His dining table was foldable and sat in the middle of the room. For chairs, Jeolm used the edge of his bed or the folding chair that also served as his desk’s chair.

He wasn’t sure if it was the amount of wine he drank or if he was a poor conversationalist, but after the second night Jeolm stopped inviting him for meals. Instead, he ate with the crew. They were a rowdy bunch, and he felt right at home. They drank, they caroused, and they gambled. He was careful to lose as much as he won. There was no better way to outstay his welcome than to take a sailor’s hard-earned coin. If he took too much, he could find his throat slit in the middle of the night.

And so it went for the first week.

On most days he could be found at the rails, watching the shore go by. He realized that besides a few unnamed fishing villages and bandit camps, there wasn’t much to look at between Teorton and Kaenshire. There were some cliffs that were eroding back into the sea, but that was it. For a while he stared at those cliffs hoping to see a few precarious rocks fall, but those gave way to sandy beaches covered in seaweed before that happened.

He wished he had brought a book, even something he’d read before. The landscapes could only hold his interest for so long. If he were something of an artist, he could have brought a sketchpad, but he wasn’t. Besides, he had left in quite a hurry and didn’t have time to pack.

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Suddenly, as he was staring at the seaweed filled beaches, he felt the ship lurch. He looked up and saw that the sails had begun to luff. If he had been paying more attention, he might have heard the orders Jeolm had issued.

The ship was quickly slowing to a stop, even among the ocean currents. It was then he saw a ship, still far, but gaining on them. He wasn’t a good judge of distance, but just based on its size, it was less than a mile away.

Before he could find someone to ask, Jeolm leapt down from the quarterdeck and grabbed him. The captain pulled him quickly towards the small hatch at the aft end of the ship, below the quarterdeck that led to the cabins.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Inspections,” Jeolm said.

Instead of back to his cabin, Jeolm stuffed Ulfnar into a small cubby that held ropes and other parts of the ship’s tackle. He had been shoved far enough in that he could barely see out.

“Say nothing and do not move,” Jeolm said. “I will get you when it’s safe.”

The sea roared as the second ship came alongside the Cressard’s Folly. Men began shouting and he heard lines being thrown and caught. A great rubbing sound reverberated through the deck as the ship made contact with the visiting vessel.

The next thing he heard were boots thumping on deck and a great deal of shouting, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He recognized Jeolm’s voice, but none of the others. Jeolm’s tone suggested that he was protesting this intrusion and that he was innocent of whatever they thought he was being accused of.

Then the sound of a head being struck, and a thump as the body hit the deck. A few moments later more boots and he heard the cubby door being smashed open. Ulfnar cowered back as far as he could go and held his breath.

Then two hands reached in and pulled him out. He stumbled and tripped. He tried grabbing some of the ropes to steady his fall, but just pulled them along with him on his path to the ground.

His was the second thump of the day. Followed by someone kicking him in the ribs.

“That’s enough of that,” a voice said. It spoke in a strange accent that Ulfnar didn’t recognize. This must be one of the men from the visiting ship. “Now get him up.”

More rough hands grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. He was surrounded by five men. Three with short crossbows pointed right at his head. Another was dressed in a strangely cut coat of fine make. It had shiny buttons and a crest of a crane in flight on the breast. He didn’t recognize the man.

The fifth man was a member of the crew. One who lost against him with regularity. Apparently, he was a sore loser. But it wasn’t like Ulfnar was taking his money. He made sure to lose what he won also. He just tended to lose to other people. Maybe this man didn’t enjoy that Ulfnar was redistributing the wealth on the ship.

The fancy dressed man handed the loser a purse. The coins clicked as the man opened it and stuffed his finger inside. A broad smile came across his face. Ulfnar wouldn’t be surprised if it were the last smile the man had. If he had betrayed Jeolm and his crewmates for a purse of gold, they wouldn’t find that particularly endearing. But greed makes men do strange things and to hell with the consequences.

One of the men with the crossbow put his weapon aside and slapped a set of manacles on Ulfnar’s wrist.

“Who are you? What is the meaning of this? Do you know who I am?” Ulfnar found himself demanding.

“I am Commodore Tyrec and you are my prisoner,” the well-dressed man said. “And I know exactly who you are, your highness.”