Chapter Eleven - Tantagel Bound

The West and North-West coast of Vedian provide the most interesting and dangerous marine geography available to us. Unlike the eastern coast, depth readings becomeimpossible to take after only a mile or two from shore and weather conditions areof a far grander and formidable scale than it's relatively passive eastern counterpart.

This increase in risk is not without it's corrolary benefits; whales and other largesea creatures can be found in the sea of these coasts, better wind patterns make sailingfaster and there is something far more appealing to the lover of the sea about thisdeep, awesome ocean. From the pennisular of Asten you look out into one of the greatestmysteries of Vedian and it stares impassionately back at you.

Marine History Of Vedian - Sea Lord Grenton

The Dusk Returner sliced through the water under full sail on it's westward reach, the mainland visible to the south, the Returner eating up the leagues relentlessly. The ship and crew had strained to push north with the mild, changing winds of Coralis but once it was around the headland the prevailing westerlys let it spread it wings and fly. A pair of dolphinskept apace with the Returner leaping out of the bow wake and then falling back to repeat thetrick. While most of the deck hands were busy keeping a ship under full sail in order, thenon-seafaring passengers lined the bow rail to watch the Returners playful blue-gray companions.

Joseph came forward to check on his friends.
"They're said to be good luck.", he indicated the dolphins with a nod, "But I suspect thatwe see so much of them because Fyle throws them kitchen scraps when noones looking. I hearhe can also tell one from another and has names for them too."
Arn nodded in appreciation while Febra made it clear she thought anyone naming fish was positive evidence of insanity. Joseph had had twice his normal presence once aboard the Returner, he walked differently and responded to questions with a note of certainty mixedwith finality in his voice. Whether this was caused by a true seaman taking to the waves ormerely that he had returned to normal and familiar surroundings couldn't quite be discerned.

The ship itself was some one hundred paces long, a gaff-rigged schooner designed for whaling in deep sea conditions, that first put to sea over a century and a half ago. Her infrastructure was of a fine wood that had not been indiginous to Vedian in living memory but running repairs had not been made out of the same fine materials, whereever possible dirtwood replacements were used which were crude and with a lifespan of only a few years. Much of the original metal components had been replaced with copper fittings, a far cheaper metal in vedian.

Occasionally the Returner would pass within hailing distance of smaller fishing craft, notdesigned for the deep sea journeys that the Returner required to hunt down larger marine prey.One day on their pleasant westward reach they passed within a few thousand paces of a fishing smack,the crew of the little boat waved wildly to the Returner. Pike appeared and strode onto the stern deck.
"Close haul!", he bellowed coming alongside the ship's mate at the wheel. Men jumped to theirduty but there was no disguising the fact they were surprised by this turn of events. Rope tore through blocks at a frightning rate, the mate changed his course toward the shore and thetiny fishing craft. The Returner suddenly put on a turn of pace, cutting through the waterlike a predator and heeling over slightly on its new bearing.
"Hunter boy, get your bow and get over here!", Pike meant Arn, who for some reason always seemed to be the snub of his crude humour. When the woodsman got up to the stern deck withhis bow and quiver the captain passed him a piece of paper and some twine.
"See to it that that message arrives on that boat when we pass it by. If I have to come aboutto deliver it myself I'll have you scrubbing these decks for the next week."
Arn grinned, he knew that Pike would do no such thing but if he couldn't hit the side of thatboat he deserved to scrub decks. As he fitted the message as tightly as possible onto theshaft of the arrow, he began to judge the rate at which they were approaching the othervessel. The Returner undulated slightly as it cut through the waves and this would make thetask at hand slightly more difficult, Arn relaxed his knees slightly to absorb the motion asmuch as possible. When they seemed to be at the zenith of their passage past the boat, Arnloosed the arrow, the distance was less than thirty-five paces he judged and he needed littlearc to cover the distance. The crew of the fishing boat realised at the last minute whatthe Returner's Captains intention was and dropped to the deck moments before the missilewas sent over.
"Bullseye my boy! By god, it's sticking out of the mast! You'll be the stuff of sailorsstories for months on this caper my lad!"
Pike issued orders to the mate to resume course and put his arm around the hunters shoulders.
"You know I should thank you for that, stories of the Returners prowess have reduced troubleat sea and ashore for us. That little display will bolster our reputation for a while."
"I don't suppose that means you are going to tell me what the message said then?"
"Just an order for more tobacco for myself and a few others at the Luff. I make quite a profitrunning odds and ends around, in truth without the side business there may not be enough cash in the strong box for our winter overhaul. You gotta stay flexible to stay alive d'ya see?It's true in everything, morals, business, goodness even marriage I've been told, thoughpresiding over a marriage is probably the closest I'm ever likely to get to it."
"Amazing how sound doesn't carry at sea though isn't it?"
"Have you lost you're mind boy it travel leagues further at sea than on land!"
"Then why not shout an order to the boat rather than risk scewering one of them?"
"Brains will take you a long way Arn. But you gotta learn when to use it and when to keepit locked up for safety's sake."

Speck did not fare well once the ship set out to sea, his stomach churned constantly and just as he thought the sensation was passing a fresh wave of nausea flooded over him. The embaressment of sea sickness was made all the worse that neither Febra nor Arn seemed altogether troubled by it and the sailors told him that they were having exceptionally smooth weather but it wouldn't last once they rounded the cape. At first he suspected that he had a bad case of lolygag but soon it was all too obvious that he was no born sailor. Fyle the steward had tried to comfort him by mentioning that he himself had been sick for his first week at sea and even still was queasy the first day after a long shore leave. Speck listened politely appreciating the cooks attempt to console him but all he could really think about was getting back to the ships rail in a hurry.

During a lull in his nausea Speck wondered if he could somehow divorce his mind from his body during this distressing period, then perhaps he could spent his time usefully while his physical self got on with the nitty gritty business of being sick. His idle speculation turned from mental dawdling into deep thought when he recalled the effect that the book had had on him. His physical self had seemed to become suspended while he was 'elsewhere', he didn't remember being aware of his body or the conditions around it. As Speck explored these thoughts further he also managed to suppress the question of whether he should actually use the book again.

Suspended in the folds of a hammockSpeck uses the book again, flashback of Sabre Regiment in the keep, Pinkerton floods the keep.

Discussion of the state of the ship. Making repairs with dirtwood and copper nailing. Green stains.

Arn watched Fyle dance around on his toes, suddenly the big man looked far more nimble and deadly than he had thought possible. Shaking his arms out and hanging his head down so that his chin touched his massive chest the cook appeared to go through some kind of psychological metamorphasis. When he raised his head there was no jolly glint in his eye; no suggestion of the compassionate, thoughtful man that Arn thought he knew. One word seemed to describe this new man's expression: purposeful. Tanwell the challenger was throwing air punches in his corner, he seemed to be attempting a similar mental preparation himself but if he had succeeded the outward effect was far less obvious than it had been for Fyle.

The ship's mate rang the bell and both men circled the center of the roped off deck.Tanwell threw out some experimental jabs which Fyle dodged, blocked or simply ignored,Fyle didn't seem to need to weigh up his opponent in the same way, perhaps simplydefending the initial blows told him all he needed to know because on the next jabfrom Tanwell, Fyle dropped and hammered a swinging left fist into his opponentsexposed ribs. Tanwell leapt back and covered his side, obviously shocked by the blowwhile Fyle seemed happy not to press his attack.
"Just saying hello there.", noted Pike.
Tanwell circled again and probed with cautious jabs, actually landing a reasonableblow on the cook's left cheek but not seeming to phase the man. Arn's instincts toldhim that Fyle had let the blow through his defenses for some reason but couldn'tfathom why until he saw the result. In commiting to the successful blow Fyle'sopponent and come closer and circled, leaving him far closer to the corner of thering than before. Fyle launched a blistering combination of punches that put histarget completely on the back foot and further into the corner of the ring. Fromthen on it seemed as if the fight was almost surgically finished. The rocking,twisting Tanwell tried desperately to escape a tirade of body blows by lowering his guard to his mid-drift when the focus of the attack suddenly changed with a lightning left jab to his face, stunning him with his hands down.
"...and there's the goodnight kiss.", smirked Pike as a brutal right cross lifted Tanwell off his feet and dumped him onto the ropes, bouncing off to arrive in an unconcious heap, face-down on the deck.

As Arn watched the cook backed away from the motionless Tanwell, still ready should the recumbent boxer actually rise up again. It didn't happen. When the other man was finally counted out Fyle was again shaking out his arms with his chin down on his chest, moments later when the mate held the man's hand in the air he was the same jovial human being that Arn had thought he knew. How elastic the soul of man must be, thought the hunter, to use personality like a weapon in that way. We can change psyches with just the goad of a percieved need, as simply as a workman changes his clothes.

"The wind has risen but we are making no more headway. I've put more sail up but she makes no more headway.", the bowson kept his voice low as if he still might be overhead in the captain's quarters. Pike and Joseph looked at each other grimly.

"There can be no mistaking it then we are either dragging some kind of crap from the coast or..."

"We are snarred by something else."

"You know what that would mean around these shores then?"

"You wouldn't be trying to make this kind of time around the coast if it weren't for us. We're sailors here, not lubbards, lets be honest we know its the beast that's on us and that would normally mean we put to port if  we can make it but we've no time to do that. You're the skipper Pike and the best I've ever seen tell me you've got something left that I don't know."

"You know everything I know boy - I don't raise fools - this is the hero hour and damn it I don't want to go down with the ship but you know the choices, let loose some boats with the crew, someone leads it away in the main vessel. you father knew it but he had to try and find the option that saved ship and crew. If he has taught us one thing is that we can't stop for anything, if we do the thing will be upon us and you're in fifyt shades of shit more trouble than we were before. No one will get out. Not the life ships. Nothing."

Joseph waited and thought because this was his first critical moment working in the senior crew. There is no place for extravagant emotion, you either are adding information to the situation or producing new solutions or you are a bad commanding officer. His father had tried to save the original Returner from the Drain but lost both the ship and almost all the crew in an attempt to severe the creatures ties from the hull of the ship. They had no idea even if it was a single creature or a breed that lived in that area but they knew that no solution had been found to the fatal slowing of a vessel. Stop - you're dead. Push on - you're dead eventually. Let loose the majority of the crew and you can save lives but lose the ship and the skeleton crew on board. In this case Pike thought he could pilot the ship alone for enough time to get a everyone else clear in the the two launches.

It was time to think like a man. Pike his father figure was asking for suggestions that wouldn't involve him sacrificing himself for his crew. All sailors knew that this was a captains job if the time came. His father had believed both ship and crew could be saved and lost both in the attempt according to Pike although the details were very loose. Pike wouldn't respect his decision if he didn't act like an officer of the ship, as he had said the sea has no time for the heart. There were less than minutes in which to decide the fate of lives, the more alive the better.

"Take to the boats. I will hold the windward coarse, you can the launches back and lee to coast. I am the fastest swimmer and ranking officer of the ship. I'll light the foilers fuse before the ship goes down and that will give me the chance I need."

Pike and Fillesne, the first mate gave the statement the time it deserved for digestion. There weren't going to be any rash statements at this, the most critical of moments a sailor could make, but inside they were both calculating alternatives. By they're expressions Joseph could tell his proposal was not going to meet with approval. Filly spoke first.

"You haven't served as long on this ship as I. You've been around and I respect you lad but this is a job for the old crew. I have twenty years on you at sea, I can get this, one of the last vedian ships and they'll be no more like it I warrant, to move faster single handed than you might imagine and that'll make sure that the rest of you are clear and safe."

In that moment Joseph damned all the joyous moments of his youth when Pike had taught him about ship and command. Each seemingly functional at it's time but now compelling him to predict the words he was about to hear. His soul rolled within him and fought against everything he knew, that the best decision was just that, not excepting the individuals that might be involved.

"You know it's my job lads. Lets not mess about."

And that was it, a life that hurt everyone as deeply as family was about to be lost but they were expected to act swiftley and without question. Not to do so would be a direspect to the very man that they would honour later.

"I have brought this upon us.", Joseph said in guiltly tones.

" Nonsense boy!", said Pike, "you have done as you saw best and we were there for you. I wouldn't have decided any different. You are talking as if I were already dead. Grak! I'll drag the thing on shore myself next Tuesday and make a fortune on the fishers market. You'll get none of the profits you understand."

As if to emphasise the point the decks of the ship groaned under the constrained pressure of making headway and holding the unseen tethers of the sea leviathon that would inevitabley pull the vessel down to the bottom.