Chapter Three
THREE PASSES OF THE MOONS HAD COME and gone as we did our best to keep the Cloud’s Shame from springing leaks.
I’d been in the hold just this morn, glaring at the dozen or so small circular globs of tar mixed with oakum—the fibers teased out of old, unraveled rope—to cover the pinholes left behind by the chainjaw lampreys.
Pinholes became larger if not sealed. The proper thing would be to put into port to have the damaged boards replaced.
Watching the men slathering more of the hot, sticky, and very pungent mixture anew on the inside of the hull, I contemplated doing so when we reached Light’s Keep.
The port was a fairly large one, with a famed lighthouse, so that the job could be done if we could find a willing shipwright.
I knew of several who were not averse to taking a privateer’s coin.
If that privateer had any coin left after paying rental to a dragon in his crow’s nest.
“We should be coming into sight of Light’s Keep by the end of the forenoon watch,” Hyla informed me when I returned to the deck, my boots slightly damp from the seawater slowly seeping into the lower decks.
“Good. The sooner we can put into port, the sooner we can stop mopping up leaks,” I replied, striding over to stand at the rail to spy a pod of ridged porpoises swimming alongside us.
With a smile—for porpoises were known to save sailors lost at sea—I pushed a bit of magicks into the waves, a boon to the porpoises, for the waves brought fish to the surface as well as a boon to us.
The sooner we could get a shipwright or even a skilled ship carpenter to replace the damaged boards, the sooner we could set sail once more.
Although why I was feeling excitement mingling with dread, I dared not contemplate.
Instead, I focused on sea life. The blue-gray beasts leapt from the sea, chasing flying fish as they broke from the waves. “Any news from the capital?”
“No, none that I know of.” She moved to stand at my side, leaning her strong forearms on the rail, the hoops in her ears bright silver and gold. “I’ve not seen the raven since we rounded the Frozen Point, so perhaps it has taken a missive to the king from the scout?”
“Mm, perhaps.” I stared down at the porpoises.
What a joy life must be when your only concern was finding fish and procreating.
If a soul did return as the green-skinned wood elves believed, then I hoped I came back as a ridged porpoise.
Living in the sea, swimming joyously while eating, and fucking when the mood struck. “Perhaps it grew weary of salted fish.”
“Could be. Captain. Coelum.” The use of my given name onboard pulled my sight from my spirit beasts to my first mate.
Hyla stood straight as a mizzenmast, but I knew her too well.
I could see the worry in her gaze. “It’s been several days.
I’ve given you space to come to terms with things.
I’m not one to let things fester. If a splinter breaks the skin best to dig it out. ”
“I recall your thinking about splinters quite well.” My gaze moved from her back to the sea. The winds blew back my loose hair. “I recall many things. How you would quiet me during the night when father was ashore or locked in his quarters with a whore or four.”
“Like father, like son,” she mumbled under her breath, but loud enough to be heard.
“Aye, that trait and many others I seem to have inherited.” A moment passed.
The ship sailed down the coast, the sun bright, the winds strong.
“I also remember you telling me tales about the drift mother and the entire continent the colossal creature carries on her back. You told me of the bell of the north and how after naval battles, the ringing of bells has been heard by survivors to signal the arrival of a loathsome beast coming to feast. You told me to never light three lanterns in a polar fog, for it would attract frostcoil young. That whale bones carved with runes will repel the Iceveil Kraken. That frozen blood on the deck means the pale sirens draw near. You told me about women and men, and to be a courteous and kind lover. You told me about the moon sisters. You told me about the stars and how to use them to navigate the seas. You told me of books and wine and song and the joys of life. And yet for all that you told me, good mother, you never told me the truth of my birthright.”
I looked at her now. Tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away. One did not weep on a pirate ship in front of the crew. Even if one had just lost their father. This I knew to be a fact.
“I wish I had never listened to your father. Aye, he kept me close to help with raising you, and for that I am eternally grateful, but now I see you should have been given the truth of things. I’ve done wrong by you, my child.”
Fukkate. When she spoke to me so gently, that was when the anger and hurt inside began to melt.
Aye, she should have told me, but she had been forbidden.
I’d seen my father cast off members of his crew who had displeased him.
Hyla had lived in that fear until his death.
She thought of me as her own child, the one who had died and left her bereft, while filled with love that she then fed to me along with mother’s milk.
“Perhaps we can shift the blame to my father. Sea witches know he was not without sin,” I offered, turning to look at her. She straightened, nodded, and gave me a brisk, tight hug with a hidden peck on the cheek. I hugged her back.
“Aye, shift some of the blame to him, but not all,” she said after releasing me with haste.
Not that the crew didn’t know how close we were.
Our past was an open book, as the printers say.
Well, aside from one pertinent fact that my sire had not wanted exposed.
“I’m able to carry my share of the guilt. ”
I bobbed my head. “If you wish. Then it is settled. You feared losing the family you had acquired, and he feared…” There I stumbled.
“He feared many things, but mostly that they would come searching for you to either take you back or slay you. Knowing the bastardly nobles as I do, I would wager they would have drowned you in a basin to keep the shame of the princess hidden.”
“Aye, I suspect you’re right.” I breathed out a sigh and squinted into the sun to see where she sat in the sky.
Close to midday. The glint of light off the brass glass shared among the crew in the nest to bring things closer.
The dragon sat in the yard under the crow’s nest, snout into the wind, wings out as if it were a vulture warming itself.
Kilter was in the enclosed platform scouting the shoreline when he shouted down to us.
“Land ho! Light’s Keep to the starboard! ”
“That is good news,” I replied and then shouted to the crew.
“Reef the topsails!” The call was unneeded as my crew was already doing what needed to be done to slow and ready to dock.
I let the water that was pushing us fall back into the sea, further slowing the ship.
The tip of the tall lighthouse came into view as we sailed past a small inlet.
The dragonling took to wing, screeching as it swooped down to try to catch a gull in mid-flight.
Feathers exploded. The bird never stood a chance, but gulls were not a dying species.
Nature was brutal. The ship slowed as the lighthouse grew larger and larger, the sails shortening.
“Bring her about!” I yelled as I hurried to gather my hair into a long tail.
“Strike the colors.” The blood-red flag was brought down, even though the powers that be at Light’s Keep knew the Cadere clan well.
Still, there could be a stray Melowynn ship at port, although that was unlikely.
The royal fleet had not sailed past the outcropping of the Verboten Woods for hundreds of seasons.
I strolled to the bow, smiling as the large port came into view.
There was a small pub here that catered to the privateer who fancied good grog and eager male whores.
While I did enjoy the female form from time to time, I enjoyed manly forms even more.
The thought of a tight ass and heavy cock in my mouth had me growing hard.
The owner of Polly’s Palace, Polly himself, was an older bawd who took only certain clientele to his bed.
I was one of the lucky few. The thought of sinking my cock into his arse made me feel randy.
The docks were oddly empty, which struck me as peculiar, but perhaps it was simply the vagaries of sea travel. I glanced down at the water as we slowed even more. A large group of black eels swam past. Two arm spans in length with slimy white strands billowing behind them.
“Fukkate,” I whispered as the rotscale eels darted under the dock.
I spun from the rail in time to see Beiro and Asdren scuttling about the upper deck.
“Rotscales in the water!” I bellowed as I charged to the other side of the ship.
The eels were a sure sign of plague-ridden waters.
There in the water, tipped over to lie on its side in the tide, was a large white sign with a crudely painted skull on it.
A plague sign. “Hard over! Hard over! Do not drop anchor!” Several people emerged from a shack on the dock, staggering toward the quay, the thick brown growth of the widow’s touch fungus covering their faces, arms, and bare legs.
“Bring her around. We shall not be berthing here. They have the widow’s touch! ”
Beiro darted to my side, wiggling in on my left to gape at the sickened villagers tumbling to their knees while waving us away.
“That is what the queen had as a child. It killed her entire family,” Beiro whispered, his fingers biting into the rail of the Cloud’s Shame, green eyes wide.