Chapter Seven

I was forced stay below deck with rat boy. I understood it was for my own protection, though I saw it more as a punishment. Perhaps Captain Lott wasn’t aware of the conditions, for he never ventured to the lower decks - but of course – they were plagued by darkness and stank of pig shit and chicken. If that wasn’t bad enough, there were rats to contend with. Nasty, filthy creatures, with beady eyes always watching, always staring, seeing everything but caring for nothing but filling their stomachs, pilfering the crumbs I left behind. I considered them nothing more than flea-ridden pigeons that had lost their wings in a bad gamble with the gods.

But despite it all - I was happy, for I had done it. I had bartered my place on the ship and we were bound for Lamaria. My excitement was like a large parasol, shielding me from any fear or regret, and if Ansha was angry at my theft, I could not see it.

I gently lifted the jacket from the bundle of clothes the black toothed man had brought down for me, as if it were so delicate it would crack and shatter to dust at a mere human’s touch. Deep black velvet lined with silk and slathered in gold embroidery depicting swirls of blooming flowers and lined with golden buttons.

“It’s all he had in your size,” he sniggered, as if greatly insulting me, but the coat was beautiful and I was enamoured with it.

“Tell the captain, thank you,” I nodded.

“Fine,” he said and strode away back upstairs, leaving me alone to examine the other clothes.

Two pairs of well-darned woollen socks I would never wear, two shirts, standard issue for the sailors it seemed, but the trousers – they were just as glorious as the coat. The finest silk jacquard, they shone in green and black, woven with a pattern of skulls and ivy that wound up one leg, snaking down the other as if for an eternity like death itself.

The boots were leather and laced, but I had no use for them, I was to remain barefoot and free.

“Rat boy!” I called out, “close your eyes. I’m getting changed.”

“Nowt I’ve not seen before,” he chuckled, but I was too enthralled by my new clothes to allow it to bother me this time.

“How do you know?” I shot him an intriguing look.

His gaze flickered from my face to my crotch and back to my unblinking eyes.

“Umm-” I had rendered him speechless, a new amusement of mine- it helped pass the endless hours in the depths of the ship.

“Close your eyes, rat boy,” I repeated.

He turned to the wall, and, keeping a watchful eye on him, I quickly changed.

I felt powerful. The wool padding in the jacket’s shoulders made me look broad and strong. Though I had to improvise a belt from rope to stop my trousers from falling, they were exquisite, the winding ivy making my legs look endless as if I had grown a foot taller.

“You can look now,” I called out.

Rat boy turned back to me, nodding his silent approval, his face saying more than his words ever could. Even Chip squeaked his admiration, for although he was simply a stupid rat, even he could recognise elegance and power when he saw it.

“I’ve festered down here for far too long,” I looked over my shoulder to admire the back of my coat – it had tails like the rich, foreign gentlemen who left donations of gold at the High Priestess’s door, “let’s go up - to the top deck,” I said.

“No - you’ve gotta stay down here, Captain’s orders,” rat boy raised his eyebrows at me, scolding me like he had some control over me. But he did not.

“I’ve been here three days, and three nights, enduring the smells, the sounds the darkness of the hull, with no complaint,” I was interrupted by a scoff falling from Rat boy’s thin little lips, I narrowed my eyes and continued, “my sea jitters are now just a quiet rumble in my stomach, and today the captain sends me these clothes to wear - if he did not want me up on deck, he would not have sent such beautiful things - they deserve to be seen, and I deserve fresh air - the chickens are choking me with their foul odour and their feathers that somehow waft on some non existence breeze stick to the sweat on my forehead and the pig’s incessant whines are driving me insane!”

“I know the feeling,” rat boy chuckled and this time if did bother me. My face scrunched like parchment littered with mistakes as my hands clasped firmly on my hips.

“Well - I do have to wet the deck-” rat boy glanced at the stairs.

“Take me with you,” I pleaded.

“Fine,” he sighed, “but if captain says anything-”

“It was all my idea.”

“Good. And you’re helping me with me chores-”

“Deal,” I said, not caring for any conditions I had to meet.

Following rat boy to the stairs, I tried to not lean on the barrels for balance, convincing myself I could walk with the pitch of the ship – a natural born sailor. But the thought of going up the stairs, worried me. Narrow and steep, rat boy did it with little effort, climbing like a rat up a drainpipe, but I stood at the bottom staring at the landing above as the floor below me shifted and creaked with the rocking waves.

Realising I was no longer following, rat boy’s head suddenly reappeared, staring down at me.

“Changed yer mind?” he asked.

“No,” I replied.

He sighed, smiling at me, he shook his head like I were a silly little child failing to reach the biscuit barrel, high on the counter.

“Both hands for the ship,” he called down, “steady now, keep yer balance.”

“I can climb a staircase,” I said, grasping the hand rail.

Planting a foot on the bottom step, I pulled myself up. It was a strange feeling, moving upwards as the ship rocked to the left - my balance tested with every slow step, watched by rat boy as if I were some street performer he could ogle.

Nearing the top, my confidence swelled as I sped up, but my hand drifted from the rail, my foot missed its mark and I slipped from the step as the boat keeled right.

My body braced for a fall that did not come. Rat boy’s calloused hand tightly gripped my arm, his feet anchored to a protruding floorboard. With an effortless pull he righted my stance. Hurrying to the top, the ship swayed left and I fell into his chest, his hand at my waist, “steady,” he whispered, his hot breath on my cheek, prickling the hairs on the back of my neck.

“I had it without your help,” I said, pushing him away.

“A thank you would suffice,” he arched an eyebrow, pushing his lips to a pout.

“For what? I was perfectly fine,” I dusted down my coat, checking to see if he had damaged it with his chipped fingernails and pointless attempts at being a hero.

“Good, cos there’s another set to go!” His chuckle. How I loathed it. Swallowing my irritation down into the pit of my stomach, I kept my head high and my shoulders strong.

“Excellent, after you.” I forced a smile.

Weaving through the mess of hammocks and wooden chests that plagued the stinking middle deck, I tried my best to stay upright, but my sea jitters threatened to return with the taste of metal in my mouth. I willed myself not to vomit. I wouldn’t give rat boy the satisfaction, or ruin my new clothes.

The next set were steeper, I was sure of it. Rising more like a ladder than a staircase, a mountain with no path, rat boy scampered up them with ease and opened the door. The sunlight poured in and he turned to watch me again, fully illuminated by the light of Ansha, as if she were waiting for my failure just like he was – a smirk on his awful face – a hand lingering at his side ready to rescue the helpless damsel he thought I was.

Taking a deep breath that tasted of sweat and feet, I started my ascent. As my knuckles whitened with the sway of the ship, rat boy offered me his waiting hand. I slapped it away, and stumbled down, my shin dragging on the edge of a step. He chuckled. The noise vibrated through my brain, rage building in the gurgling depths of my stomach, I gritted my teeth and grabbed the hand rail. With a roar like a majestic beast pouncing on her pray, or possibly just a deranged girl needing redemption, I heaved myself up - missing out three steps - onto the deck.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

With a look that screamed I told you so, I faced rat boy and straightened my coat. Though my arrogance was short lived, for I inhaled the fresh salty air, dry on my tongue, and a new wave of sickness washed over me. Hurrying to the bulwark, I threw my head over. Pausing, I swallowed hard, forcing the vomit back down, for I saw it. The ocean. Despite the bright, mocking sunlight, it seemed dark. Dangerous. Back home the sea was turquoise, colourful fish weaving in clear waters, dancing sting ray with their white smiling faces. You could see the silver-grey sharks coming for miles and dodge the poison eels, their colours rivalling the screaming macaws in the coconut palms. But here – out in its middle, with no land upon the horizon, no golden stretch of sand, I could see nothing. Just a rising darkness from the vengeful depths like a shadow set on devouring ever flicker of light it touched. I had not realised it would look so – frightening. Like an abyss – a nightmare lurking beneath us, filled with monsters and death.

And to add to my fear, I had a sudden urge to climb the ropes and jump from the rigging. To dive into the water - to let the waves engulf me, drag me to their secret depths, amongst the hidden creatures that would devour my flesh, piece by piece.

White foam frothed about the ship as it tore through the water, reminding my brain of my churning stomach, and I finally emptied my breakfast over the side. Watching as it splattered into the sea below, chunks of the scrambled egg rat boy had made me, now chum for the fish. A brave choice he had said of my request, and he had been right. My stomach had barely settled since I came aboard. I should have stuck with the hard tack, but I was starving, my body craved real food.

So mesmerised by the waves swallowing my breakfast, I hardly heard the cheers from the crew as I threw up once more.

But I had heard them. Loud and mocking. They annoyed me more than rat boy’s relentless chuckling. Tearing myself away from the hypnotic thrusts of the sea, I turned to scowl at them. But my misconceptions had not stopped. When sat alone in the hold, I heard their voices and imagined them to be scrawny – their teeth victims of scurvy – their bodies ravished from too many nights at sea, but I was way off. Though some surely needed the comforts of land, most seemed to be thriving, and my scorn was met by men the same height – and width - as the black toothed man, and just as intimidating with muscles bulging. My scowl slipped away.

“Where you been hidin’ this one, eh Galen?” a man with a crooked nose stepped towards me.

“Leave her alone,” Rat boy warned him.

“Oh like that is it boy? Not a fan of sharin’?” crooked nose drew closer, but rat boy blocked his way with his scrawny body, half the size of the brute that approached.

“Leave her alone,” he bared his teeth like a cornered dog protecting his bone. The man towered over him. I thought rat boy and idiot to speak to him in such a way, but perhaps he liked a challenge.

“Galen gotta girlfriend?” a man with a lazy eye sneered at me from across the deck. Like a bored mother craving gossip, he left his cards on the barrel and sauntered over.

“Yea I do, Nayan, and she’s mine so back off,” rat boy raised a hand to him.

“I am not your-” I began, but rat boy turned to me, giving me a look - one that shut me up in an instant.

“It’s okay, they can know – my darling,” he forced a smile and nodded, begging me to play along.

“Yes, I’m his girlfriend,” I was aware I had said it unnaturally, I was no actor, but I assumed they were as stupid as they looked, and that it would go unnoticed.

“Aye, but that’s not how it goes round here is it?” crooked nose pressed his chest against rat boy’s, tilting his head towards his, “that’s not the rules here, is it lads?”

Sniggers erupted from the six or seven men that now surrounded us. Lazy eye licked his lips, his good eye fixed on me, the other wandered to the horizon.

“Captain says we get an equal share of the spoils,” crooked nose pushed rat boy aside with ease, grabbed me around the waist, forcing his body into mine, knocking me into the bulwark.

I tilted my head away from his, I could feel his hot breath on my neck, the smell of it drifted to my nostrils. Rum and fish guts. A vile mix that made my lips curl and eyes water. My hand squeezed its way to his chest and pushed, trying to prise him off me as rat boy shouted, but he was a boulder half buried in the sand, unmoving and strong.

“Don’t be like that, pet, I promise to be gentle,” crooked nose grabbed my breast. Squeezing he gave a low moan, and licked my neck.

It was warm and awful.

I shuddered.

My toes curled, nails scraping on the wooden deck, clenching my fists together, I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry out to the ocean so god Lamar himself would hear my plight, rise up and blast a torrent of water in crooked nose’s face, flinging him from the ship into the shadow of the ocean, where - with gasping breaths, he would slowly sink, clawing at the sky above, eyes swelling, silently screaming, summoning the sharks to feast on his flesh and guts - tearing him apart until his bones sunk to the deep dark nightmare of the bottom, where they would stay, being pelted with fish shit forever more, until the only evidence of him ever existing, was the rotting pile of faeces that even the shrimp would not touch.

But I could not. No words came from my open mouth. My body failed me, freezing me to the spot as he groped me. His groans assaulting my ears as he smacked his lips together. Rat boy did his best to pull him away, his scrawny muscles no match for crooked nose’s brawn.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?” A voice boomed.

Crooked nose released me. He stepped away, but I could still feel his hands on me, the wet on my neck. My stomach fizzed once more, but it wasn’t the ocean that caused it this time. I looked to crooked nose, for any remorse, an apology, anything, but he did not meet me gaze.

“I repeat myself – what is going on here?” the sailors cleared a path for the captain.

“Nothing, just playing around,” crooked nose sneered. I was not a game. A heat rose from my toes, and as it reached my head it intensified, prickling my cheeks like a thousand sewing needles. I tasted blood. My vomit swirled up my oesophagus and blasted out of my mouth like a fountain, covering crooked nose in a shower of egg and bile.

The captain glared at crooked nose, as if daring him to move, to comment, to say something of the indignity. But he did not. My sick dripped from his broken nose and landed on his boot and he had not a thing to say of it. I wanted to smile, to laugh at him in his state, but the corners of my lips were weighted down and I had not the strength to move them.

“Galen – get her back down below,” Captain Lott said, without breaking his gaze.

“Of course captain,” rat boy threw an arm around me and ushered me back to the stairs.

If going up was a challenge, then going down was an impossibility. I slipped at once and skidded to the bottom on my side. But the stinging pain was not enough to distract from the pressure I still felt where crooked nose’s rotten hands had been. I fumbled back onto my feet, swaying with the ship. Rat boy said something mocking and clever, or maybe he simply asked if I was okay, I could not concentrate on his words. I could not concentrate on anything. I felt as if I were floating, but not the happy kind of floating like when you’ve had the best day, full of laughter and happiness to find there’s chocolate cake waiting in the kitchen – no, this was more floating like a ghost, a haunting spirit who left the world painfully and suddenly, betrayed and with unfinished business. It was cold, it was dark, it was the opposite of cake.

I could feel rat boy’s hand on my shoulder, his gentle grip as he guided me to the next staircase, but it made my skin crawl, and my feet could not keep up so I stumbled like a drunkard thrown from a tavern.

He helped me to sit at the top of the stairs, and whispered something about sliding down – he had lost all faith in my abilities, and in all honesty I had too. I had lost my fight - it had been swept away in the wind and was now drifting amongst the waves. As I slid down, I wondered if it would make it back home – back to Anshallia, and wash up on the beach before the Dawn Palace. Would Priestess Ahnn find it? Would she recognise the feeling, the lost power of me? Would she fetch a bottle to catch it in, would she keep it safe for me, for when I returned? For all I wanted in that moment was to be home again, in my library, surrounded by my books. I’d even endure the High Priestess’s censure. I’d eat up her hateful comments and be grateful for the meal. I wanted my Priestess Ahnn, her comforting words, her laugh, her touch. At the bottom of the stairs, I did not stand. I shuffled in between two barrels and I sobbed. Loud, open mouthed sobs that quickened my gasping breath, until I had no control over it, like everything else in my life. It had all gone wrong, nothing was as I imagined. It was not like my books, it was no fairytale, not for me.

Rat boy quietly sat at my feet and stroked my leg, either he knew not what to say, or he recognised my need for silence. Even Chip did not squeak, curling around rat boy’s neck he looked at me with curiosity – he had probably never heard a human make such noises before. A low, wild moan that rose from the pit of my stomach.

I continued to think of my home, of Priestess Ahnn, I questioned if she missed me as much as I missed her, or did she still hate me for leaving? No - she would have forgiven me by now, she always forgave me. I was her little bean.

My breathing calmed briefly – long enough for me to whisper pillowcase to rat boy. He nodded and obliged, bringing it straight to me. I dug my hand in, pulling out my book. Opening it, I inhaled deeply, taking in its smell, transporting myself back to my library and away from the ship. My breathing settled.

With the palm of my hand I wiped the tears from my cheeks. I closed the book and stroked the cover. It was my only beacon of hope in the dim light of the hold.

“I’m sorry,” rat boy finally spoke, but his voice had lost its cheer, his chuckle had also drifted away in the wind.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I sniffed.

“I shouldn’t have brought you up there, I should have obeyed my captain,” he said.

“Stop acting like you had any say. I would have gone up even if you said no,” I said and my tears began to well again.

“Nah, you would have fallen at the first staircase and given up,” he playfully pushed my knee.

“It did not fall,” I said.

“Aye, because I was there to catch you, like I am now,” he nervously ran a hand through his hair, “I know, I know – you are strong, you are Mara, you don’t need saving, you snuck aboard a ship, bartered passage to Lamaria, braved staircases and foolish men - but I wouldn’t think less of you if you were homesick or struggling.”

I stared at rat boy. All I wanted was to say something clever and mean, but I could not think of a single thing. His ocean eyes had me in a trance – they were soft and calming like priestess Ahnn’s.

My tears fell all over again. Everything he had said was the absolute truth - I was strong – but still, my arms begged for a hug like a snivelling child lost in a crowd of strangers, and he gave in. Effortlessly sliding me out from my barrel cocoon, he pulled me in close as I sobbed into his shirt. And I didn’t even mind the smell of his armpits.

“It’s not what I thought it would be,” I sniffed.

“Life is never like our dreams,” he said as he stroked my tangled hair.

“I wanted adventure, an escape from my life – I thought this was my path. I dreamt the captain would think I’m special, and take me on adventures, I’d be a natural sailor, I’d impress everyone because this was where I was meant to be. But the captain has banished me to the darkness, where it stinks of my own vomit because I cannot shake my sea jitters, but it’s better than the deck where the ocean is so vast and scary like a sea monster in itself, and the men are worse. I miss my home, my priestess Ahnn. I cannot do this. I thought this was my path. That Ansha was showing me the way. But how foolish – the gods do not care, least of all for me. I am motherless and unloved, a cruel girl with a hateful heart, a bad omen spat out from the sea, and banished back to it when land had enough. I deserve nothing but this.”

I cried into rat boy’s shoulder until I slipped into uneasy sleep.