by Rick Johnson
“It is the same story for the Wood Cows,” Helbara declared. “We, too, have our troubles. Our way of life also has been destroyed. The High One has exiled us from our homes. We are outcasts. How curious that your story is so much like our story.”
“Who said that our stories were different?” TrimWagg replied. “Dividers divide the story. PogWaggers can’t see anything as divided. Our story is your story. The reason the trees accept our carving is that we feel we are doing the carving on ourselves. When a PogWagger begins carving on a piece of living wood, he feels intense pain, as if he were carving his own flesh. Yet no wound is created. As he becomes more skilled in carving, the feeling of pain diminishes, but the carving design appears on his body.” TrimWagg lifted his shirt to show that several of the designs from the trees showed on his body as if made of light.
“That’s astonishing,” Helbara gasped.
“There is nothing magic about it,” TrimWagg responded. “It is simply the mutual recognition that my blood flows in the trees, and their sap flows in me. That is why our carvings do not kill the tree—and their carving on me does not kill me. Surely the Wood Cows know that every creature has the Great Light within them. What you see is my little light showing in the carvings I create.”
Breister and Helbara were silent, thoughtful. They had nothing to say.
After a few moments, TrimWagg spoke. “Come with us to the Great Hot Lake. You will find your daughter there. Perhaps you will join our efforts to ward off the great danger.”
“Wood Cows are a peaceful clan,” Breister replied. “We have never raised war against any beast.”
“I did not invite you into warfare,” TrimWagg said. “I invited you come with us to the Great Hot Lake. You may, or may not, wish to join in our efforts to ward off the great danger.” He paused, giving Breister a kindly look. “PogWaggers do not believe in either War or Peace. Peace and War are simply words and, like any word, can be made to mean many things. Sometimes Peace means War. Sometimes War means Peace. If we believe in such things as War and Peace, as most beasts think of them, we will always be at War, even if there is no reason, or always at Peace, even if there is none. Live beyond the words. Think beyond the words. That is all I invite you to do.”
“What you say makes sense,” Helbara said. “We will be grateful to go with you to the Great Hot Lake. It seems we will find Helga there and, perhaps, we will see into the depth of what you say.”
“Bammit!” TrimWagg exclaimed joyfully. “You will not believe the Great Hot Lake! Our journey will have a serious purpose, but it won’t hurt us to soak in the lake a bit and eat some delicious food. Gather yourselves. We were just preparing to set out when you arrived. I’m glad you have decided to join us.”
“You made it a pretty easy decision,” Helbara replied. “You know where our daughter is.”
“As I said,” TrimWagg said, “our stories are not divided into yours and ours.”
The Admiral’s Schooner
It was midafternoon when Fishbum, the Ship’s Lookout, called out, “Sail Ho! On the weather bow, Capt’n!”
Red Whale, who was currently at the wheel of Daring Dream II, put his glass to the sail. It was a large schooner under full sail. Not wanting to draw any conclusions without consulting his Co-Captain, Red Whale went below to find Bem Madsoor, who was studying sea charts.
“Did you see a flag on her?” Bem asked.
“That’s why I came to discuss it with you,” Red Whale replied—she’s flying Lord Farseeker’s colors!”
“Lord Farseeker’s colors!” Bem Madsoor exclaimed. “How can that be? Would your good Lord have sent out a second mission into the Voi-Nil?”
“That I highly doubt,” Red Whale replied. “He would not risk another voyage into unknown seas until either we returned, or he felt certain that we had been lost. No, that sail cannot be another voyage of exploration sent by my good Lord.”
“What then?” Bem Madsoor mused. “Perhaps a trading ship that has lost its way?”
Bem Madsoor accompanied Red Whale back to the main deck. Both examined the ship carefully with the glass.
“Looks to be a trading ship, alright,” Red Whale commented.
“Maybe someone was inspired by your voyage into the Voi-Nil and decided to mount another expedition,” Bem suggested.
“Maybe so,” Red Whale replied. “There’s probably many a beast who sees gold and silver to be found. Probably some beast trying to beat the crowd when the Voi-Nil opens up.”
“What shall we do?” Bem asked.
“I think we should hold our course, which will take us close to the schooner,” Red Whale said. “If they be friends, as I expect, they may hail us and we can, perhaps, meet them.”
“And, if they be not friends?” Bem replied. “What then?”
“Crinoo! We’ll show her our heels and make all sail,” Red Whale responded. “That schooner’d be no match for Daring Dream II in the open sea. She may be bigger than us, but she’s heavier and can’t run before the wind like we can. We’ll keep our wits about us and make happy or run, depending on what they do.”
For the next hour, the two ships moved toward one another, neither altering course. As they were closing to within two miles of one another, the strange schooner ran up a pennant beneath Lord Farseeker’s colors.
“An Admiral’s pennant!” Red Whale exclaimed. “The schooner has an Admiral aboard.”
“What can that mean?” Bem wondered.
“Let’s steer within hailing distance,” Red Whale replied. “We’ll ask them what they’re about.”
The sun was still a couple of hours above the horizon when Daring Dream II hailed the schooner.
“Schooner, ahoy!” Bem Madsoor called. “What schooner is that?”
“Quest & Luck, of Lord Farseeker’s Realm, looking for Captain Red Whale.”
“You’ve found him, then!” Red Whale boomed out. “Shall we send a boat for you to visit?”
“No, we’d like you to come over and keep company with us,” was the reply.
Hearing this response, Bem Madsoor turned to Red Whale. “Law of the sea says that the larger ship has the say when it comes to invitations,” she observed. “And, since we are Co-Captains, we would both be obliged to pay our respects. But I don’t like the idea of meeting them myself until I feel certain about their intentions.”
“Living on the outside of the law will give you that feeling,” Red Whale replied with a grin.
“And living within it like a brainless idiot will make you a slave,” Bem retorted. “I place the just beast somewhere in-between the two.”
“That’s fine,” Red Whale said, “but the question is, what now?”
“We live within the law by accepting their invitation, and live outside the law by letting me be absent from the festivities,” Bem said. “Neither too much of this, nor too much of that is the best policy.”
Agreeing to the plan, Red Whale again hailed the schooner, “Send a boat over. I’ll be honored to keep company with you.”
Meeting a ship from Lord Farseeker’s realm was puzzling. Watching the Quest & Luck rolling on the waves, Red Whale’s curiosity about the ship’s purpose in looking for him filled his thoughts. Before Red Whale’s voyage into the Voi-Nil, a bare handful of ships had ever ventured into these unknown seas, and none so far as this. The Quest & Luck was on some very special mission. But what? Yet despite his puzzlement, after weeks of near constant crises and dangers, it was pleasant to think of hearing news of Lord Farseeker. Despite his cautious curiosity at the unexpected appearance of a ship from his homeport, Red Whale could not help feeling happy.
The boat arrived, and Red Whale clambered down into it. The sea-beast in charge, offering a friendly smile and proper salute, quickly turned the boat back towards the Quest & Luck. Red Whale settled down for the trip to the schooner. “What news?” he asked. “Your ship is a sight for a sea-beast weary for home!”
“Sorry, sir, but I didn’t bring along any ne
ws,” the sea-beast in charge of the boat replied.
“Crinoo!” Red Whale exclaimed. “What do you mean you didn’t bring news! Since when is news from home treated like packet mail, when sea-beasts sit eye-to-eye!”
“Sorry, sir, not meaning any disrespect,” came the reply, “but Admiral Poo’Lard most particularly asked that he be allowed to personally share the joyous news from home with you.”
“Admiral Poo’Lard!” Red Whale exclaimed. “The last time I heard of Poo’Lard, he was a barnacle-counter in the back desks of the Seas Office!” The sea-beast in charge simply continued to look toward the Quest & Luck without responding.
“Thickthud Poo’Lard? An Admiral? Crinoo!” Not often at a loss for words, Red Whale sat in stunned silence for the rest of the journey to the schooner. There must be important news indeed from Lord Farseeker, to have sent Poo’Lard—who Red Whale judged barely able to pilot a ship—into the Voi-Nil.
Despite the choppiness of the waves, as soon as the boat reached the schooner, Red Whale quickly climbed the rope ladder to the deck. An honor guard, in finest dress uniforms, greeted him as he stepped on the deck. The ship’s band immediately began playing. Following the music, a brawny Hound, of the hearty and robust type, wearing the insignia of Commander, saluted Red Whale and welcomed him aboard.
“Commander Spinnit, at your service, Captain,” the Hound said. “With pleasure, I welcome you aboard the Quest & Luck. Now, you must be anxious to consult Admiral Poo’Lard. Follow me. I will show you to his cabin. Such a magnificent dinner has been prepared in your honor. You and the Admiral have much to discuss.”
Commander Spinnit’s good-natured manner and the warm welcome he had received put Red Whale in a jolly mood. Questions about the Quest & Luck’s mission, however, lingered in the back of his mind. Not entirely at ease despite his good spirits, as Red Whale followed Commander Spinnit, his attention was on every detail of the ship. For a schooner, he noticed that the ship seemed to be undermanned. Beyond the welcoming group when he boarded, and a few sea-beasts tending to the sails and steering, few other crew were apparent. Such a ship would need far more crew than he saw.
His unease, however, turned to high alert as they walked down the passageway to Admiral Poo’Lard’s cabin. Passing the map room, Red Whale cast a glance through the slightly open doorway. A sea-beast with flaming red hair was looking at the maps, his back turned to the door. It was T’Welf Cut, a well-known pirate! Although the light was dim below decks, Red Whale knew there was no mistake about the pirate’s identity. T’Welf Cut had a three-inch-wide scar running down his head on the backside. His head was covered with luxuriantly curled red hair, except where the scar tissue made it impossible for hair to grow. There could be no other sea-beast with brilliantly red curled hair, who also had a wide scar straight down the back of his head. There was no doubt in Red Whale’s mind—there was a pirate aboard.
As soon as they passed out of earshot of the map room, Red Whale immediately spoke. “Commander Spinnit, do you know who that sea-beast is in the map room?”
“Ah, yes, Master Wiggins,” Commander Spinnit replied, “quite an interesting character he is. Many years back, pirates attacked his ship and left him for dead. I rescued him and he’s been in my crew ever since. He’s the best navigator a Commander could have.”
“With all respect to your rank, Commander, I beg you to listen,” Red Whale rejoined. “By some hoax or trick, you’ve been deceived! That sea-beast is none other than T’Weft Cut, one of the most notorious pirates on the seas!”
“If that be so,” Commander Spinnit replied with a smile, “tell it to Admiral Poo’Lard, and if my judgment is faulty, he will correct me. Now, here we are at the Admiral’s cabin. Good day, Captain.”
Left alone, Captain Red Whale knocked at the door. “Come in,” a growling voice answered.
Entering the cabin, he found Admiral Poo’Lard seated at the far end of a long table. Despite the invitation to dine, no food was present. Admiral Poo’Lard did not rise but merely pointed to the empty chair across the table from him. “Sit down, Captain,” he said.
“Thank you, Admiral,” Red Whale replied, “but I think I’ll stand, if you please. My legs are a bit tight from sitting in the boat.”
The Admiral was a short, stout Hare, with an abnormally protruding jaw. It was as if some hideous disease had caused a large swelling or growth on the side of his face. The Admiral, however, thrust two fingers into his mouth and pulled out an immense wad of Sea-Bitters he had been chewing. Tossing the gnawed purple wad into a cup sitting in front of him, Admiral Poo’Lard repeated the instruction. “If you please, Captain, I do require the courtesy. Please be seated.”
Pulling the chair well back from the table so that he could have freedom of movement, should he need to move quickly, Red Whale sat down. “I notice, Admiral, that you have T’Welf Cut, a cold-blooded scalawag if ever there was one, working in the map room. I’m surprised that an Admiral would allow such crew to serve him.”
“Don’t be alarmed, Captain,” the Admiral replied. “He’s no longer a pirate. I invited you to visit me because I have joyous news from Lord Farseeker’s realm. T’Welf Cut and myself are now in charge of all the good Lord’s ships and expeditions. That is why we came to find you. It would create some unpleasantness should you come back from your explorations and not know how things had changed while you were away.”
“What has changed?” Red Whale demanded, jumping to his feet.
“Oh, only some little modifications in policy and administration,” the Admiral replied. “I imagine the main one that will most interest you is that Lord Farseeker has taken a leave of absence due to his failing health.”
“What! That can’t be true!” Red Whale exploded. “The good Lord is healthier than either you or I, I’ll wager.”
“Well, I guess I did misspeak,” the Admiral said. “It’s more that he has taken a leave of absence because his health would fail if he did not leave the throne. You see, some of us have long thought that the realm needed stronger leadership…”
“STRONGER LEADERSHIP!” Red Whale yelled. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”
“Calm yourself, Captain, such outbursts are unbecoming an officer—even a former officer—in King Myyst’s realm.” Admiral Poo’Lard opened a case and pulled out a new wad of Sea-Bitters. Offering some to Red Whale, he continued. “King Myyst had hoped that, perhaps, if I talked to you, you might be persuaded to serve him. In that spirit, I offer you some of the finest Sea-Bitters. Here—have a chew with me and let’s talk of what Vice-Admiral Red Whale Gumberpott might achieve in service to King Myyst.”
“KING MYYST!” Red Whale howled. “THE MYYST I KNOW IS A GAMBLER AND KNOW-NOTHING! HE’S A SCOUNDREL AND CHEAT! HE COULD NEVER RULE LORD FARSEEKER’S REALM!”
“Now, Captain,” Admiral Poo’Lard said evenly, placing a long curving cutlass on the table. “I have asked you to speak in a tone worthy of an officer—even a former officer, I repeat. King Myyst now rules what you call Lord Farseeker’s realm. I advise you to speak respectfully of King Myyst.”
“Crinoo!” Red Whale replied, more calmly. “I, too, can repeat myself: The Myyst I know is a gambler and know-nothing! He’s a scoundrel and cheat! He could never rule Lord Farseeker’s realm!”
“Captain Gumberpott, you are simply being delusional,” the Admiral said. “The order has changed. So many of us did not like all the new notions that Lord Farseeker had gotten in his head. He was becoming positively dangerous to his own subjects. All this talk of new ideas, and new thinking, and new worlds across the Voi-Nil. Well, it just couldn’t be allowed to continue. The more beasts who got such ideas in their heads, the more trouble it would be for those of us who have our own ideas about exploration. It had to be stopped, while it could still be stopped.”
“Crinoo!” Red Whale replied. “Now I see how it is. Myyst and the brainless creeps he has gathered around him, such as yourself and T’Welf Cut, have clapped the good Lord into chains and taken
over the realm. You came looking for me in hopes that I would join you—well, you are supremely wrong on that point. I would never join such a crowd of greasy scum as yourselves.”
“You mistake our intelligence, Captain,” Admiral Poo’Lard replied. “In coming to find you, there was no thought that you would join us. We are smart enough to know that, after the beast formerly known as Lord Farseeker, you are one of the most respected public figures in the realm. It would create considerable unpleasantness for you to return to your homeport and, finding that things had changed, raise a ruckus. No, it’s much better to come and find you and avoid unpleasantness.”
“So, now what do you have in mind?” Red Whale asked.
“I’m expecting that you will surrender your ship to me,” Admiral Poo’Lard replied. “I will place T’Welf Cut in command, replace any of your crew who might be difficult with crew of my own choice, and we will all sail cheerfully back to port.”
“And if I refuse?” Red Whale said coldly.
“I don’t really care if you refuse or not,” the Admiral said. “I have enough crew on board to simply overwhelm any resistance and take your ship.”
“I thought something was amiss when I saw so few sea-beasts on deck,” Red Whale observed. “You didn’t want to show your hand.”
“Well, perhaps that was part of my thinking,” the Admiral agreed. “However, I also thought that you might think my crew did not look very welcoming, if they were visible. I mean so many weapons and such unhappy faces. I simply didn’t think it was a worthy welcome for such a fine sea captain as yourself.”
“Do as you will with me,” Red Whale said grimly. “I will never hand Daring Dream II over to you.”
“As I said, we don’t really need you to do that,” Admiral Poo’Lard said, rising from his chair. “I think your crew may be willing to do that for us. If not, then, as I said, we will board her. Now come with me. I want to make an appeal to your crew.”