It was a clear day, and a stiff breeze was blowing in from astern. The sea sparkled under the midday sun, and the swells were low. Despite being heavily laden, the Vesper was in her element as she ran before the wind.
On her upper deck, the Vesper’s crew was in good spirits. There had been no sign of their pursuers in the night, and even the most pessimistic among them had begun to relax as they broke off into their respective cliques.
The women, Raimala the pilot, Tash the helmswoman, and Marsel Hing, the sailmaker, were gathered on the quarterdeck, talking amongst themselves as they tended to their respective tasks. Elran El Tiarnan, Raimala’s brother and the ship’s doctor, sat nearby, grinding herbs in a mortar. He sported a thick, black beard and was the only man on the crew who wasn’t cleanshaven.
On most ships, the quarterdeck was the domain of officers only, but Firch was not one for tradition, much to the consternation of Bardrick, who glanced at them and muttered under his breath every so often while he worked on a section of decking that had come loose the previous day. Duglin, meanwhile, was scrubbing the deck with a worn brush close to the quarterdeck.
“Marsel, could you see if you can scrounge anything from the pantry?” he heard Tash ask. “I’m starving.”
“We finished the last crumb yesterday,” came the tired answer. Marsel was a lithe young woman whose red hair came down to her shoulder. She was the best shot on the ship with a rifle or cannon and was the quickest up the mast. “There’s nothing to be had until we pull into port.”
“And how long will that take?”
“That’s Palm Cove off our port bow, so around another four hours if the wind and currents are favourable,” came Raimala’s reply.
“That’s so lonnnggg,” Tash groaned. “I’ll never make it.”
“This is why women have no place on ships,” Bardrick growled. “I’ve been on voyages where we went weeks without proper food. They’d give a man the lash if they heard them complain about being hungry after less than a day.”
“Well, thankfully, our Captain’s no barbarian,” Marsel remarked.
“You call it barbaric,” Bardrick snorted. “But a soft Captain doesn’t last long. Life at sea’s tough and without discipline, a ship won’t survive. I only hope the Captain realizes that before it’s too late.”
“Oh, you’ve been beating that drum for months now, Bardrick Haranon,” Tash scoffed. “Everything’s been fine. Perhaps men need beatings for every little thing to stay in line, but not us women.”
Duglin winced when he saw Bardrick’s face turn a deep crimson. The huge man slowly got to his feet and approached the quarterdeck, holding his hammer menacingly. Seeing this, Tash planted herself at the top of the stairs with a club in her hand. Duglin scrambled out of the way and looked around frantically for anyone who could step in and defuse the situation. Though Tash was impressively built for a woman, she was still dwarfed by Bardrick, and Duglin didn’t think much of her chances should they come to blows.
The boy looked over to Fultern, who was up on the prow, acting as lookout, and he seemed more interested in the sea ahead than the developments behind him. Besides, he was too far away to intervene.
“There will be no lashings or physical punishment of any sort so long as I am master,” a quiet voice said. “My crew are people, not savages who need pain and violence to be kept in line.”
Bardrick turned around to see the Captain standing at the hatch that led belowdecks. His eyes were red rimmed but alert and focused the bear of a man. The Captain hadn’t slept since they found the wreck while the others had napped in turns through the previous night. “I thought I made that clear to you when you signed on, Bardrick.”
“You did, Captain, but…”
“However,” Firch continued. “If a fight ever breaks out, I will leave the instigator marooned on the nearest island, is that clear?”
“Captain, letting women onto a ship is asking for trouble,” Bardrick began and was silenced by a cold look. He was standing less than five feet from the Captain and towered over him, and Duglin was stunned by the fear in the bigger man’s eyes.
“There were plenty who told me the same about you,” he replied icily.
The colour drained from the huge man’s face, and he backed away from the stairs. “And I’m grateful you took me in despite my brand, don’t get me wrong. I’m just trying to protect you from…”
“If I ever think I need your protection, I’ll be sure to ask,” Firch said. “But let me make one thing clear. If I ever catch you so much as threaten a crewmate, I will leave you beached. Is that clear?”
“Is that clear?” he repeated softly when Bardrick didn’t reply.
“Aye Captain,” he conceded at length.
“Good,” Firch nodded. “Now, Inder needs help in the bilges. Go and give him a hand, will you?”
“Aye Captain.”
Firch stepped aside to allow Bardrick to flee below decks. When he was gone, Duglin realized he had been holding his breath and exhaled.
“Our hero,” Marsel laughed.
“Raimala, I heard we’re four hours out?” Firch asked.
“That’s right, Skip,” the pilot replied. “Conditions permitting, of course.”
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“Any chance you can squeeze a little more speed out of her, get there a little quicker?”
The pilot’s button nose scrunched up as she looked up at the sails and frowned. “Our canvas is a little worn…”
“And the spare?”
Raimala glanced at Marsel, who shook her head. “In worse condition than this, Captain. I did recommend changing it almost six months ago, but you said…”
“I’m aware of what I said,” Firch sighed. Now that the situation was defused, the Captain’s shoulders sagged, and his head drooped making him look weary. Very weary. “We have priorities.”
The pilot arched an eyebrow. “You chose to careen her instead of buying new canvas.”
“You saw the state of the hull,” Firch protested. “Besides, now she glides like a dolphin, skipping over the waves.”
“Is there a reason for the rush, Captain?” Tash, the helmswoman asked.
Firch shook his head. “No, I’m just eager to get paid. Don’t tell me you can’t relate.”
Tash smiled, but Duglin could tell that it was forced. “Of course. I’m going to eat myself into a food coma when I get ashore.”
“Well, don’t count your chickens,” Firch warned. “The first thing we need to do is pay Darnall off.”
“That’s right, we do, don’t we?” Tash frowned.
“Don’t forget, we need new canvas and lines too,” Marsel added.
“Well, hopefully, there will be something left over for us,” Tash sniffed.
“There will be,” Firch promised. “Enough to tide us through to the next season if Thuley holds up his end of the bargain.”
“Will the crates we left behind be a problem, Skip?” Raimala ventured.
“Let’s hope not,” Firch shrugged. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in my quarters. Let me know when we pass the Beetle.”
“Will do, Skip,” Raimala said as the Captain entered his cabin, which was under the quarterdeck. Once he was inside, the pilot turned to Duglin and beamed. “So, your first payday. What are you going to buy?”
Now that he was suddenly the centre of attention, the boy froze like a startled deer. The women smiled impishly as they stared at him, and at length, he regained enough wits to answer.
“I suppose I’ll send most of it back to my parents. The last three crops have failed in my village, and they need the money badly.”
“Aw, isn’t that sweet?” Raimala laughed, and Duglin felt his blood rush to his face when Tash joined in.
“I’m doing the same,” Marsel said softly.
“You will have to forgive my sister,” Elran, the doctor said as he walked up to them. He was a sharp featured, handsome young man. The siblings bore a striking similarity to one another that looked uncanny when they stood side by side. “We are from an affluent family, and she knows little of the plight of the common people.”
“You’d have to be to travel across the Western Ocean just to chart this part of the world,” Tash remarked. “Don’t beat yourself up, though, Raimala. My parents threw a fit when I told them I wasn’t going to marry the man they sold me off to and cast me out, so I’m spending all my money on me.”
“Say, doctor,” the burly woman continued. “Is that salve of yours ready? My back is killing me.”
“Why, yes, it is,” he said, holding up the mortar. “Would you like to apply it now?”
“Marsel can do it for me when she’s finished mending that line,” she replied.
The doctor nodded and frowned down at the mortar. “I’m afraid we are low on medicinal herbs as well, but I didn’t want to pile on the misery.”
“Your family is rich,” Marsel said with an impish grin. “Can’t you just buy them with your lavish fortune?”
“As you are well aware, we spent all our money on the voyage out,” Elran replied.
“Then couldn’t you send home for more?” Tash ventured hopefully.
The doctor sighed and shook his head. “I’m afraid our family isn’t rich enough to send silver half way across the world with any expectation that it would arrive in our hands.”
“That’s enough gum flapping,” Inder barked as he appeared from below decks. “Look lively, we’re in a shipping lane.”
“The closest other vessel is four hundred yards away,” Raimala remarked as she pointed at the eighty foot long brigantine off their port bow that they were quickly coming up upon. “Besides, Fultern is on watch.”
“All the same, let’s keep things professional,” he replied while the others quickly returned to their duties. “We’ve been at sea a month now. It won’t be funny if any mishap occurs because we were careless within sight of port.”
“Aye, sir,” Raimala said before saluting jauntily.
“It’s the Gilded Pony,” Fultern called as the brigantine drew nearer. “They are hailing us. Shall I summon the Captain?”
“Let’s see what old Rumlow wants first,” Inder replied as he made his way over to the prow. “Let’s drop some sail and settle in alongside.”
“Hey Duglin,” Marsel said as she came running down from the quarterdeck. “I think the deck over by the bow is a little dirty. Why don’t you go clean it up?”
“And update us on the latest news,” Tash added.
“Yes, that was implied,” Marsel frowned. “He’s not a simpleton.”
“You can never be too sure when it comes to smooth hands,” Tash shot back.
“Save the flirting for the bunk, you two,” Raimala said. “And you, boy. Run along before you miss anything important.”
Obediently, Duglin picked his bucket and his brush up before shadowing the first mate over to the prow. While he did, Marsel and Tash dropped the mainsail while Raimala took over the helm.
“Ahoy there, Vesper!” a voice called as the Raimala brought the Vesper’s prow alongside the Pony’s stern.
“Ahoy, Rumlow!” Inder called back. “What’s the news?”
“Just a warning, Inder,” the master of the Gilded Pony answered. “The Empire showed up not long after you lot weighed anchor. Word is the governor has asked for their protection. They hadn’t setup customs yet when I left last week, but all the same, I hope you don’t have any contraband on board.”
“Well, that explains the Imperial frigate,” Duglin heard Inder say softly to Fultern. The first mate then raised his voice. “We don’t, but what are you going to do?”
“I’ll have to kiss the Ardenpool route goodbye,” Rumlow said ruefully. “Well, here’s hoping the deal to incorporate Avarice into the Empire goes tits up.”
“Knowing the governor, there’s a good chance of that,” Inder remarked.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Fultern offered. “The Empire can be very accommodating when courting new lands.”
“Hey, Inder,” Rumlow called. “At full sail, you lot will pull into port at least three hours before mine. Would appreciate a little warning if there’s trouble.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” the Vesper’s first mate replied. “I appreciate the heads up.”
He then turned to shout over his shoulder. “Full sail ahead. I want best speed to Avarice.”
“Full speed ahead, aye!” the girls sang.
The sails were raised, and the Vesper began to accelerate.
“Fair winds and following seas, Rumlow!” Inder called out as the Vesper pulled ahead.
“Let us know if there’s trouble, you hear?” came the reply.
“Should we inform the Captain?” Fultern ventured.
Inder shook his head. “The Captain anticipated this development.”
“Did he now?” the wiry man sounded surprised.
“He’s as canny as they come. Sometimes I think that boy is part witch,” Inder remarked, sounding impressed.
“I’m surprised to hear those words come out of a superstitious man such as yourself, Mister Inder,” Fultern observed.
“A lapse,” Inder said good naturedly. “I trust you will keep it to yourself.”
“You don’t have to worry about me.”
Duglin bowed his head and scrubbed vigorously when he saw Inder coming down from the prow. The man’s bare feet came to a stop inches from his nose, and Duglin knew he was caught. He raised his head and knew he looked as guilty as sin.
“They told me to scrub the deck over here,” he offered feebly.
“If I catch you eavesdropping again, I’ll have you clean out the bilges with your tongue,” the first mate growled. He glared at the boy for a good long while to make his point before shaking his head. “Go on, tell the others what you heard. It will save me the bother.”