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[talien]

“Ship to the starboard!” rang out from above as the Nǎoké approached a becalmed ship, her sails furled. The ship in question was listing badly to one side, nearly taking on water because of the severe angle of the deck.

“I don’t believe it,” said Vlad.

Hanging from a spar by a complicated assembly of block and tackle was the sea serpent they had encountered the day before. The beast was a pincushion of spears, bleeding from countless wounds. Into the open mouth, a man lowered a bucket and retrieved an oily substance that was transferred onto the deck to large barrels. The ship was alive with activity, despite the pervading smell of death.

“They stole my fish!” snarled Beldin.

“That be the Long Day’s Night, out o’ Freeport,” said Baldric. “Th’ ship and crew are well known as mariners o’ exceptional skill and whale hunters unparalleled.”

Ilmarė sneered. “A disgusting habit. Osalian’s creatures should not be harvested in such a fashion.”

“I know this ship,” said Kham. “Their captain, John Amos, has a knack for avoiding dangerous seas. Wonder what he’s doing out here?”

The Nǎoké pulled alongside the Long Day’s Night. Amos waved from the deck. “What ho, Baldric? Seems like Cho Sun caught up with you!”

“More like we caught up with him!” Baldric shouted back. “What be ye doin’ so far out t’sea?”

“War, my friend.” The ships came close enough so they didn’t have to shout. The stench of dead serpent assailed their nostrils. “Coryan is in the midst of a civil war and Freeport is caught in the middle. The seas aren’t safe for a decent fishing man.”

“So then what be ye doin’ out here?” said Baldric with a gap-toothed grin. “But I know yer meanin’. Th’ political climate in Freeport ‘tis why I took this job, fer all th’ good it did th’ Shrike, Yarris rest her soul.”

Amos nodded solemnly. “She was a good ship. But you’ve got a new crew and a new ship, and a fine one at that!”

“Aye, aye. What news then?”

“Ominous storms ahead, my friend. It’s why we’re moving quickly, we need to get back with this catch.”

“My catch,” muttered Beldin.

“Someone is trying to swim to our ship, Baldric,” Ilmarė said quietly.

Baldric leaned over the rail. “Why th’ lass is right! Who be ye?”

The man, caught in the act of floating with a small barrel between ships, waved helplessly. “Help! I need to get off this ship!”

Amos looked down. “Gods, not this again.”

“So he’s yours then?” asked Baldric suspiciously.

“Aye. Clem is a bit mad.”

Ilmarė drew her bow. “I can kill him now and be done with it.”

“Easy, lass.” Baldric put one hand out to stop her. “That’s still a member of Amos’ crew and ‘tis his t’ deal with.”

“We don’t want him!” shouted Amos with a broad smile. “He’s nuttier than a loon and a terrible whaler.”

“What makes you think we want him?” asked Ilmarė.

“Oh come on!” chimed in Kham. “Let him on board. We can put him to work. We’re short-handed anyway, right Baldric?”

Baldric grunted. “We could use someone who speaks Low Coryan. If yer sure…”

“I’m sure,” said Kham with a broad smile. “He’ll be my responsibility.”

“Fine. We’ll let him on board.”

Ropes were thrown down and Clem clambered onto the deck.

“This is a mistake.” Ilmarė put down her bow. “If he makes one wrong move I will slit his throat.”

Kham nodded. When the elorii walked away he turned to Vlad. “Isn’t motherhood grand?”