“But I’ll not have a man or woman on my ship that’s not here because they want to be. If your wanting to join and you’ll take my orders, you may board.”
He looked to the priest, who smiled and nodded. Dexter thought he could see some moisture in Father Dooligan’s eyes. The young man turned back to Dexter and met his gaze. Dexter was surprised by the look he saw barely contained in them. His gaze was intense and overpowering, as though something great and powerful was hiding within.
He nodded. “I’m your man, Captain Silvercloud.”
Dexter nodded and stepped aside so the young man could enter. He took his measure as he passed by him, noting that he stood roughly as tall as him, but seemed a bit thinner in the shoulders and chest. He carried no weapons that Dexter could see, but he supposed that men of faith felt they had all the weapon they needed in their God. Dexter fought the urge to scoff at the notion.
“Rosh, show him to his room,” Dexter asked.
Rosh gestured for Logan to follow him but he had only taken a step before the priest spoke up. “Remember, Captain, you mentioned the hold? I advise you to heed your own advice.”
Dexter looked at the priest and then at Logan, then he turned to Rosh and nodded. Rosh turned again and led the newest crewmember below deck. When they were out of sight the priest spoke again.
“How is the girl doing?”
“She’s sleeping still,” Dexter said. “But we think she’ll be okay.”
“Losing a hand will be hard on her,” he said. “Sometimes healing the spirit is harder than healing the body. Keep that in mind, my young friend.”
Dexter chuckled, he hardly felt young. The priest had more than a dozen years on him, but still, the things Dexter had already done and seen had aged him much, especially of late.
“Father… may I have a word with you?” Dexter asked, not sure he agreed with what he was doing.
“Of course,” Father Dooligan was quick to respond.
Dexter gestured for him to come up the plank and on to the ship, then he led him below, pausing at his cabin and taking a moment to peak into the bridge. Not seeing the specter of his former first mate, he opened his cabin and led the priest inside, offering him a seat at the table.
“Father Dooligan,” he began, uncertain as to how to address the priest.
“Father is fine, Captain,” he said with a warm smile.
Dexter chuckled. “Fair enough.”
He took a deep breath and said, “You deal with faith. The hopes of eternal life in service of Acaros. People are born, people die.”
The priest nodded. “That sums it up I suppose. There is, of course, more to it than that.”
Dexter nodded and held up his hand. “Aye, there is. It’s neither here nor there though. What I’m for wondering is what about them that don’t pass on?”
The priest looked at him funny. “Those that don’t pass on? You mean, they live forever? There’s no such thing. Or do you speak of unholy abominations — the living dead?”
“No, no, no,” Dexter said. “I mean them that die, but… well, they’re still here,” he said, trying to explain it.
“Ah, denied entrance to the afterlife,” Father Dooligan reasoned, nodding. “Captain, I know not who you pray to, but you are a good man and I have no doubts such a thing would never-“
Dexter sighed. “This isn’t about me,” he said, slightly exasperated. “We lost my first mate a little while back and… well, there’ve been some strange things going on. People thinking they thought they saw him.”
Dexter altered the story just enough so that the priest would not suspect Dexter was actually the only one who had seen him.
Father Dooligan leaned forward, interested. “I’ve heard of such things,” he confessed. “Often they are of someone who was died unjustly and remains to seek revenge.”
“Have you seen this apparition?”
Dexter hesitated, then nodded. “I thought I was going mad,” he admitted.
Father Dooligan shook his head. “Was he well liked and was he a good person?”
“Aye, he was… ” Dexter trailed off, unable to speak for a moment. He just nodded and finally said, “he was a good man.”
“You’re not daft, my son,” the priest said softly. “And while I’ve not heard of it before, I can only guess that this friend of yours stays out of love for your crew. How did he die?”
“Some type of creature found a way into our steerage and Kragor stumbled across him. It struck him down, paralyzing him and making him black out. He never awoke,” Dexter said raggedly. He looked up and shook his head. “He fought… he was a dwarf, after all.”
Father Dooligan nodded and smiled. “I know.”
Dexter opened his mouth to say more then stopped. “You know?” he asked, confused. “But I’d never spoken of that before. Did you hear it from someone else?”
The priest nodded his head towards Dexter, but to the side. His eyes looked there as well. When Dexter turned his head to look he saw Kragor sitting on the head of his bed, carving a block of wood and sending ghostly shavings to the floor. They disappeared before they reached that decking.
“You can see him?” Dexter asked, turning back to the priest.
He nodded and smiled. “I can. He is letting me, otherwise I doubt I would be able to.”
“This friend of yours is a benign spirit. Only the wrathful and vengeful ones have the strength to affect the world of the living. Your friend stays on to see that you do well, I suspect. Or perhaps there is more he would tell you, yet he cannot as he has no voice.”
Dexter turned to Kragor and caught the dwarf’s eye. They shared a look and Dexter had to blink back tears. He was not crazy! Making no noise. Kragor sniffed and bent his head to go back to carving his block of wood.
“Captain, I must take my leave,” the priest said, noticing the special moment between the two. “It does my heart good to see this though… it makes me feel better about your new deckhand and his fate.”
Dexter rose with him. “We’ll take good care of him, Father,” Dexter promised. “As good as can be given out there, at least.”
“My thanks, my friend.” They shook again and Dexter escorted him back up to the deck and off of the ship. He paused up there and sighed, happy to not be insane.
“Everything alright, Captain?” Rosh asked as he wandered by carrying a length of sail that Bekka was planning on mending.
Dexter stared at the priest then to Rosh and asked, “Rosh, see that man over there?”
Rosh turned and nodded. “Yeah, the priest… right?”
Dexter smiled. “Aye,” he said, then turned and walked away, whistling a tune softly. Rosh watched him go, head cocked to the side. Finally he shrugged and continued on his way.
Chapter 8: Dancing with Demons
The Voidhawk bucked against the breeze, making everyone on board anxious to grab on to something to keep their balance. A normal day’s sailing had a few minor bumps and shifts, but it took place in the Void, where the ship carried its own pocket of air with it. Today it sailed through the gusty clouds of Azmea’s atmosphere, seeking the forward army of Lord Falson’s forces.
Dexter agreed to a deal with the Azmarian lord. He was to help secure a nearby region, a peninsula of land that was run by another Azmarian lord. In return for the assistance of the Voidhawk, he would be given the necessary magical materials Xander needed to enchant his ship so his holds could carry more than they should be able to. Dexter did not understand the magic, he only knew that he had heard of ships being modified thusly. With an increased carrying capacity he reasoned that profits would be far easier to come by.
Bucking their way through the wind made him grit his teeth and wonder at the soundness of his decision, however. He expected a couple of months for their current job and, after only a couple of hours, three of his crew had thrown up and his own stomach was anxious to join them.
