“You wait and see!” Gerd said, and delivered a combined attack, first with knife, then with his short axe.
Viggo dodged both attacks masterfully. “Come on, you move like a Mountain Troll. I can see every attack before you’ve even started.”
Gerd tried a feint, but he was too slow, and his opponent dodged it without difficulty.
“I almost got you there!”
Viggo burst out laughing. “Yeah, that was really close.”
The two friends went on fighting for a while longer, until Gerd ended up with his tongue out, and of course without having touched Viggo a single time.
“I’d better give you some lessons and teach you a couple of tricks, because with that big body of yours you’d have a job catching someone more agile and slippery.”
“Thanks, pal.”
“On the other hand, if it’s a question of pushing down a door, or fighting against an Ogre, I think you’d be ideal.”
Gerd smiled. “Let’s focus on the first.”
“Fine. By the time this journey’s over, you’ll be an excellent fighter.”
“D’you promise that?”
“As my name’s Viggo, I promise.”
Gerd laughed out loud. “Okay then, do what you can.”
Viggo smiled. “Done!”
The days went by peacefully. Captain Olsen was an expert sailor and knew these waters well. He avoided storms and other ships as soon as he caught sight of them, and often he seemed to know they were on their way even before that. It was because of his many years of experience, he said, having spent his life at sea. According to him, at sea you could never trust either the course of a storm or the intentions of a merchant ship.
“I think Olsen is half a wizard,” Viggo said, “and that’s why he knows where the next storm or ship’s going to come from.” The captain had just avoided heading directly into an ugly storm.
Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure, it’s got nothing to do with knowledge and experience, it must be witchcraft.”
“He’d better not be a half-witch or wizard or anything,” Nilsa protested. “You know how much I hate magic, it puts me in a foul mood.” She folded her arms protectively and glared at the captain, who was chatting with Eicewald on the port side.
Gerd was looking out at the horizon. “Well, the storm he got us out of was one of the bad ones. Look how black the sky’s turned, and all that thunder and lightning.”
“He’s not a witch, and nor do you need to be afraid of a storm,” Ingrid said to both of them. “And you, smartass, stop talking nonsense,”
“I love it when you get angry with me. Your face lights up. You look so much prettier.”
Ingrid, red with fury, grabbed one of the oars and tried to hit Viggo with it. Luckily it was too long and heavy to be wielded easily, which gave him time to run to safety. At the stern he joined Lasgol and Astrid, who were on the starboard side playing with Ona and Camu. The latter was camouflaged.
Astrid stared at Ingrid, who was fuming at the other end of the ship. “What did you do just now?”
“Me? Nothing,” Viggo said, looking as if he had never broken so much as a plate in his life.
“Yeah, sure,” Lasgol said, convinced his friend had been up to his tricks again.
Astrid smiled and shook her head. “Oh, sure, and that’s why Ingrid’s spitting feathers at you.”
Viggo petted Ona, who evidently enjoyed this and pretended that like him, she was a picture of pure innocence. Camu, invisible, gave Viggo a friendly shove. Caught unawares, he was forced to do a pirouette to avoid losing his balance.
“Very good move, that,” Astrid said.
“You wretched fiend, at least you could have warned me!”
Warn not funny, Camu transmitted to Lasgol.
No, not funny at all, Lasgol agreed, and laughed.
“You and the creature aren’t laughing at me, are you?”
Lasgol shook his head. “Of course not.” He smiled at Astrid.
Viggo funny.
Yeah, you’re absolutely right there. At least he always makes things entertaining.
“I think at least you ought to paint a red dot on him, so we know where he is.”
“No way,” Lasgol snapped back.
“Nobody else would notice, and we’d know where he was.”
“How’s a red dot floating around the ship not going to attract attention?” Astrid asked.
“Well, we’d make it really small …”
“No and no again,” Lasgol said, shaking his head.
No paint, Camu protested, and Ona chirped in amusement.
Don’t worry, I won’t let anybody paint anything on you.
“Well then, don’t let him catch me off guard!”
“But he’s just showing his affection,” Astrid said. She smiled and reached out her hand. Camu went to her and licked it. “See? He does it to me all the time, he’s adorable.”
“Yeah, yeah, adorable, a pain is what he is.”
Camu went over to Viggo and licked his hand too. Viggo leapt back at the touch of his moist tongue.
“But why does he like licking so much?”
“Because he’s a sweetheart,” Astrid explained.
Viggo protested to high heaven.
I sweetheart, Camu transmitted to Lasgol and Ona. Ona growled as if to say ‘sweetheart my paw’.
Yeah … a real sweetheart … Lasgol transmitted to her, full of irony.
They spent a while enjoying conversation and games while the ship sailed on westwards. They soon found out that Camu loved climbing the mast up to the crow’s-nest, as well as sliding down the sail. Since the palms of his four feet stuck to any surface, he had a wonderful time letting himself slide down the sail. The optical effect he created in the process made it look as though a whimsical gust of wind had decided to strike only one part of the sail, from top to bottom. Captain
