CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

Tom was asleep with his head on a coil of rope and his neck twisted at an extreme angle, and his body curled up like he had been in an accident. He woke when a crash of thunder sounded in the distance. He got on his knees and he walked on his knees to the small window, and saw the river below was brown and hot with the sun boring down. The boat was slowing.

‘What is happening?’ he murmured to himself.

He waddled on his knees from the window of the brig to the door, and he put his eye up to the slats. The light streaming in hurt his eyes.

Up ahead on the riverbank, was a centaur and two swamp hogs. The swamp hogs had shackles around their throats with chains attached to the shackles and the chains fed back to attach to the rear of a saddle on the centaurs back. The hogs surged against the chains, only to be wrenched back. They wore ragged clothes and their eyes were bloodshot and rolling with fear. They were looking up at the large ship as though it was a monster.

One of the hogs opened its snout and let out a whistling scream, and immediately the other hog joined in. They continued to scream until the centaur got hold of a fist full of chain and reefed the chain so that it bit into the hogs necks.

The centaur was as tall as a small tree. His human chest and stomach, connected to the body of a horse, was naked and hairy and knobbly with muscle. His face was wide and his mouth wore a grimace, as though the centaur was somewhere in the middle of some unpleasant task.

Even more interesting, perhaps, than the sight of a mythical beast (Tom knew about centaurs from his dictionary of fantastic beasts) was that Andrew was seated on the centaurs back.

Tom felt his heart sink. He had been glad when Andrew was taken by the skinny man, knowing that, while on this adventure, Andrew wouldn’t get to bully him.

Peering through the slats of the brig door, Tom watched as four of the ship's hands unstrung their bows and drew arrows on the pigs. This seemed unnecessary considering the pigs were tethered to the centaur.

The captain strode across the deck from the forward cabin. He was a head taller than his sailors. His massive head seemed to be entirely beard.

The captain leaned over the bulwarks and called to the centaur.

‘Braidor, who have you scavenged up for me’.

‘A boy who has made a big claim.’

The centaurs voice was rich like loam, filled with a gentle humour.

‘What kind of claim?’

‘He has claimed that he is Elion returned.’

At the mention of ‘Elion’ all the men on the boat burst into laughter. The centaur laughed too, his voice like a choir.

‘This is how he introduced himself,’ said the centaur. ‘He claimed he was Elion, the greatest leader that Paris has ever known.’

‘Where did he get that idea?’

‘From the Creeper. Who tried to sell him to me. The Creeper claimed that this boy was worth a million rizers if I could get him to the Emperor.’

‘How much did you pay the Creeper?’

‘After I convinced him he didn’t have Elion he was happy to hand the blighter over.’

‘So the Creeper believed the little dung monkey when he said he was Elion.’

‘The Creeper can’t see the ‘shine’. He captured the boy in the northern meadows, mistaking him for Elion. Apparently the boy and two others came through the cliff.’

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‘Why have you bothered taking the boy, once you discovered he wasn’t Elion?’

‘I owed the Creeper a favour, so I told him I would get rid of the little slab of turtle fat.’

‘Well I don’t want him,’ boomed the captain.

‘Put him in the brig and drop him off at the capitol. I’m sure they will find something for him down there.’

This was horrible news for Tom. He had actually been enjoying the solitude of the brig, even with the spectre of danger that was just around the corner. If Andrew joined him in the brig there would be no escaping. There had been too many occasions when Tom had been stuck, either in the canteen or the lockers, cornered by Andrew and his taunting or his punching or his remarks. Tom took a deep breath and tried to rid the feeling he had of suffocation.

It looked like Andrew had been through hell. His hair was dishevelled and his St Dominics uniform had been torn and was smeared with dirt and blood, and his face was as dirty as a chimney boy's face. His eyes were red, like he had been swimming in the ocean.

The centaur turned, one large arm stretched back and a thick finger poked Andrew in the chest.

‘Time to get off my back.’

The centaur knelt. Andrew managed to scramble off, although when he tried to stand he wobbled like jelly and fell to his knees.

By now several deckhands had leaped ashore and secured the ship to a tree stump that stuck up from the brown water. Other deckhands were lowering a gangplank. One end of the gangplank was on the ship while the other was stuck in the reeds, the end of it sinking into mud. Water frothed, and a tree stump drummed the hull.

The captain walked down the gangway, the board bending under his weight.

The swamp hogs seemed terribly afraid of the captain, and they scrambled to get as far away from him as the chains allowed.

The captain walked across the mud until he was beside the centaur, and even though the captain was seven feet tall, he had to rotate his head back to look up at the centaur who was several feet taller again.

‘Good to see you Braidor … It has been too long.’

Braidor reached down with an open hand and the captain reached up and slapped it.

The captain said, ‘Does the boy still think he is Elion?’

‘I think I ridiculed him enough so that he understands that he doesn’t have Elion’s ‘shine’.’

The captain reached a hand into the vest and brought out a leather bag that he handed up to the centaur.

‘My debt,’ he said.

‘The centaur took the bag and opened it, and peered inside with his eyebrows bunching over his eyes.

‘You are a good man, Captain.’

The captain took a step backward and motioned for Andrew to follow him onto the ship.

‘I must get going,’ said the centaur. ‘I have a man near the ocean who is looking to buy a couple of hogs.’

The centaur reefed the chains around the hogs necks so hard they nearly fell over. One of the hogs squealed and the centaur yanked the chain again.

The centaur turned his human body and leaned his horse body to the left, muscles bulging and rippling. Without saying a word to Andrew who was back on his feet with his arms hanging at his sides, the centaur set off along the river bank with the two hogs shuffling beside in an awkward gait, swaying and bumping up and occasionally stumbling as the neck shackles bit.

‘Follow,’ said the captain, and Andrew followed the captain up the gangway.

Just then Tom noticed Fox emerging from the forward quarters. He came across the deck with his arms swinging theatrically, and his purple coat wafting back like a cape, and displeasure running through his eyes.

‘I need a word.’

The captain shook his head at Fox. ‘I'm not dealing with a little fellow wearing a purple jacket right at this moment.’

‘You cannot put this boy in the brig with my prisoner.’

‘I can do what I like.’

‘I paid you for direct passage.’

‘That may be, but if a person sees Braidor the centaur on a river bank … he stops.’

‘I don’t want this … boy … in the brig with my prisoner.’

‘Too bad … he is going in the brig.’

Fox seemed to be jittering, and he put a hand out indicating the brig. ‘Let me take the prisoner to the brig.’

‘My ship, my prisoner,’ the captain boomed, and continued walking toward the brig with Andrew who looked surprisingly positive, considering his dishevelled appearance.

Just then a huge gust of wind came roaring across the deck, and Fox’s coat whipped out and got twisted up, and the captain jammed his hand on his captains hat, and Andrew nearly lost his footing and took two wild steps sideways while the wind pressed his pants and shirt and blazer hard in against his portly body.

‘This storm might end us all before we get much further,’ said the captain.

The gangplank got hoisted up and the deck hands poled the ship away from the riverbank. There was a sucking sound of mud. The telegraph pole sized oars reared into the air, then came down with a splash.

Tom watched with terrible foreboding as Andrew got led to the door of the brig.