“The studs are already down,” replied Aravan. “Likely we will furl the starscrapers and moonrakers as soon as we round the shoulder of the cape. . the gallants and royals as well. I deem that we’ll make our run on stays, jibs, tops, and mains, though likely we’ll reef them down somewhat. Long ago I ran with all sails full up-not here but in the Silver Straits-and I lost two of the masts in one fell swoop. I’ll not risk that again.”
“What about the spanker, Cap’n?” asked Noddy.
Aravan smiled at the cabin boy, who even now was showing promise of becoming a bosun. “Aye, Noddy,” answered the Elf, reaching out and tousling the lad’s unruly hair, “we’ll reef the spanker, too.”
“Kapitan,” said Nikolai, “I t’ink you might talk to crew again about running cape. They no doubt like word straight from you.”
A murmur of agreement rumbled ’round the table.
“Aye, Nikolai, I had intended to. Assemble the men, and thou, Brekk, gather the Drimma as well. Shall we say at the change of the noon watch on the morrow?”
Sleet pelted down upon the ship, while in the forward quarters below, Aravan stood on a sea chest and spoke to the Eroean ’s crew, the weather too harsh to hold an assembly above. And as the hull clove through the rolling waves and brine billowed over the decks, all the Men and Dwarves gathered ’round their Elven captain, all but three remaining in the sheltered wheelhouse-Fat Jim and Wooly, along with Tarley.
Aravan spoke of the cape and reminded them all of the weather at this time of year, for although each had been through this passage before, it was a year and a half past and in a different season. This time, as then, they would make transit from west to east, running with the wind, running with the gale. Aravan spoke of the ice that would form on the ropes, and of the driven snow that would blind them and weigh down the sails, if it should come. “Yet,” he said near the last, “we have made this run ere now. The Eroean is a sturdy ship, and ye are a fine crew. I fear not that we will see the Sindhu Sea in but a week or so. Still, I would caution ye to take care, for if any be lost to the waters, we will not be able to wear around the wind in time to save ye in those chill waves, and to do so would put the entire ship at hazard. So, buckle up tightly when up top, for I would see ye all when we’ve passed beyond the cape.
“Be there any questions?”
“What about the Grey Lady ghost ship?” asked Billy, the cook’s helper. “I mean, Captain, I hear she runs in weather like this.”
An uneasy stir rippled through the crew, for well they knew the legend of the tatter-sail ship, ever cursed to ply these waters, ever searching for the owner’s lost son who had washed overboard in a wild storm in these waters.
Aravan sought out Billy’s gaze and said, “I think the legend be false. Yet if true, and if the Grey Lady appears, then look the other way.”
Now it was a stir of agreement that rippled through the crew, for everyone knew that if you didn’t look long at the ship, she would not claim your soul. On the other hand, if one got washed overboard and lost in these waters, the Grey Lady would stop and take the unfortunate one aboard to sail forever this frigid sea, especially in furious blows.
“Be there any more questions?” asked Aravan.
None had any, for they had made this crossing before, and so Captain Aravan called for a round of rum, his words met by a cheer.
They finally entered the South Polar Sea, and around the cape they fared, and the freezing rain and sleet beat upon the masts and sails and rigging, and made the decks treacherous. Men spent as little time as possible above, and Fat Jim and Wooly and Tarley helmed the Eroean from the small, sheltered wheelhouse, rather than the aft deck.
And the westerlies hurled the ship onward, her sails reefed half or goosewinged, and those nought but the stays, jibs, tops, and mains, the rest furled and stowed or reefed full.
And the waves she rode across-or those that rode across her-were sixty, seventy, eighty feet high from trough to crest, or conversely eighty feet deep from crest to trough, depending on where the Eroean rode, as southeast and then east she ran.
But at last the cape was rounded, and Aravan turned the Elvenship to east-northeast. Even so, sleet and freezing rain yet hammered upon the ship, but the farther north they fared the less ill the weather became.
From the polar westerlies and into the roaring forties the Eroean sailed, and there came a day when she broke out into sunlight, and all the crew celebrated and stood adeck admiring the warm light and clear blue sky.
Another two weeks found them wending among mountainous green islands, for they had come into the tea-growing slopes of the Ten Thousand Isles of Mordain.
They spent nearly a month altogether obtaining what they had come for, and the crew reveled in shore leave, yet toiled when the precious and well-sealed cargo was laded.
And then they made the long journey home, this time rounding the cape in the teeth of the wind.
They brought back a ship laden with white tea from the slopes of a dormant fire-mountain on one of the Isles of Mordain, and no Rovers did they see when once again they fared through the Northern Strait of Kistan.
Their next voyage took them to Ryodo, where they delivered fine Valonian horses to the royal court of the Emperor of that insular land.
Throughout the following five years, they sailed west through the perilous waters of the Silver Straits in the South Polar Ocean to reach the Great Island in the Shining Sea. There they took on a single chest as cargo, a small cask filled with fire opals, a fortune in and of itself.
They sailed north through the Shining Sea to the small island where Lady Katlaw lived in her tower, and they exchanged one of the opals for a deck of special cards for Aylis to use in her ‹seeing›.
In Bharaq, they traded charts to Dharwah, a map merchant in the port of Adras, where they took on a cargo of teakwood, to fare to the carvers and furniture makers in Lindor. While in Lindor they sought Captain Allson to redeem his promise of a meal and a drink, yet the Gray Petrel had been lost at sea and none knew the fate of the men.
They made several forays inland at various isolated shores, where rumor said something lost or precious lay within. Here Lissa and Vex scouted as Brekk and the warband and Aravan and Aylis followed. Yet all they found were ancient ruins, usually nought but tumbled-down stones with nothing dear for their effort. Yet these expeditions along remote coasts were the principal reasons why the Eroean sailed the seas.
As Aravan said to Aylis and Lissa one night in the salon, “It matters not whether the legends are true, for the seeking is the sum of the game. Had we wanted nothing but wealth, then merchants of the seas we would ever be, for with but a few trips of the Eroean we can each make a fortune many times over.
“Nay, comfort and riches suit none aboard, not I, not ye, not this well-chosen crew. For we sail only to fund our quests, setting a little aside for the times after, when many of the crew will leave the sea and settle down to a more staid existence. But that is for later and not for now, and not for the times immediately ahead, for legend and fable yet call to this crew, sweet voices singing in our hearts, in our spirits, and drawing us on. And so we hie across the sea, the holds laden to the hatches, until we can go somewhere we are called, and mayhap we will find whatever it is that drew us there. If not, so be it, for other ventures lie beyond the horizon, their siren songs luring us on.”
Lissa looked up from her jot of brandy and raised the tiny cup into the air. “I’ll drink to that, Captain. Lead on. Lead on.” She stood and then abruptly fell on her rump. She looked into her cup and muttered, “Perhaps I’ve had enough.”
22
DARK DESIGNS
MID SPRING, 6E7
