CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

In the brig of the ship known as the Sweet Louise, Tom crawled in amidst coils of rope, and with an oily tarp pulled across his shoulders and back for warmth, he slept through the night.

He was woken early by a dozen angry voices demanding that Elion be released. He stood with a slight stoop in the low ceilinged brig, and walked to the door that led onto the afterdeck. Although the door was locked, it had a square window with slats to allow in light and air. Tom could see through the slats. There were six ship guards on duty, three on the port side and three on the starboard side. Something was happening port side and the starboard guards crossed the deck. The guards crowded the gunwales and three of the guards unslung bows and nocked arrows against strings. They drew to half tension and sighted down the shafts.

A crowd was on the dock shouting and waving their hands and their fists. The crowd were calling for the gangway to be lowered so they could board the ship and take Elion back. The guards didn't reply. They just held their weapons and waited.

Presently the captain, who was a huge man with a pumpkin sized head, came marching out from his quarters at the prow of the ship. He wore black pants and a long blue coat, and on his head was a hat that looked like a boat. He yelled for the crowd to disperse, but this only made the crowd more boisterous. They demanded that Elion be released immediately.

The captain shook his head.

'You are all mad ... Elion is not on this ship.'

'We know that he is,' yelled a woman wearing a yellow dress. She had her chest out and the tendons in her throat were bulging.

Just then Silas Fox came mincing along the ship deck wearing a purple coat and an orange hat. At the sight of the dapper little man, the crowd grew even more agitated.

'You have taken Elion for the bounty,' they shouted at Silas.

'You should be ashamed,' they shouted.

'This is not true,' Silas shouted back. 'I have an important prisoner, but it is definitely not Elion.'

'Liar,' shouted the crowd.

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'We need to go,' Silas whispered to the captain. 'We need to depart before this gets ugly.'

The captain didn't argue. The crowds anger was bludgeoning the quiet of the morning. The captain sensed it was only a matter of time before the crowd managed to board the ship.

Under the captain's orders the deckhands threw off the mooring ropes, and immediately the river's current caught the ship and pushed it away from the wharf. The townspeople roared and ran along the rivers edge, but soon the ship was travelling too fast for the runners to keep up. Wood groaned. Deck hands shouted. Ropes zipped through blocks. Huge oars were lifted and pulled by beasts that were chained up in the hold of the ship. Tom had overheard one of the deckhands refer to the rowers as Bearded Grogans. From the way the sailors had talked, Tom got an image of creatures as large as elephants, with bodies shaped like gorillas, and heads that looked like a hippopotamus.

Soon the town fell behind.

Tom shuffled over to the rear of the brig, to a small stained glass window. He wondered if he could open the window, but it became apparent that the window was locked from the outside. He might be able to smash the window and reach through to unlock it, but that was something he could consider later if a purpose for escape came to him. He found a piece of clear glass amidst the stained glass and he looked through. The river unwound behind with a v shaped wake slapping against the river banks. The sun reflected silvery squares of the brown water.

For a time the river wended through lazy U turns that took the ship past farmland. Cows and sheep grazed in paddocks surrounded by hedges of nettle. Soon, though, the river left the farms behind as it worked into a hilly area covered with woods. Along the edge of the river were weeds and wildflowers and logs and earthen banks and storks with long grey legs and long grey beaks.

The breeze brought the smell of weed and wood rot and insects.

The light was yellow and gold, and Tom felt quite optimistic. He had accepted that he was on some sort of pre-ordained mission to take a seat inside a machine, and Jane had her heart set on finding the book. Tom felt that the strength of both his and Jane's ambition would see that everything would work out just fine.

Out to the south, very very distant, came the occasional low rumble of thunder.

Tom stepped away from the window and sat on a coil of rope, and soon he was starting to drift back off to sleep. Then he heard commotion from the guards on deck. He promptly woke up and went to the brig door. The guards had their bows up and arrows nocked. They were lining up their arrows on someone that Tom couldn’t see out on the riverbank. Then the guards suddenly lowered their bows and one of the guards said, ‘She is swimming. Does she think she will catch a Grogan rowed ship?’

Tom scrambled across the brig, stepping over ropes, to the back window. Out the window he only saw the receding river and the willows along the river banks, and the bow waves slurping into the muddy overhangs, and a brace of ducks rolling up and over the ship's wake.

Then they passed a meadow and Tom saw Jane crouching in the meadow amidst the grass. He called her name, but his voice sounded as thin as a reed, and she showed no sign of having heard him.

In the water were the sleek green shoulders of a thrip, swimming behind the ship, powerful and fast.