Whisper of Suffering

by Samantha Jacobey

  “Did the dragon not sink your ship?” Rey asked in amazement.

  “No,” Piers shook his head. “No, we seemed to pacify it with our course change and the haste of our retreat. As if we had gotten too close to something, and all it really wanted was to turn us away. It let us go, and we got the hell out of there, in a hurry.”

  “Then what happened?” Ami breathed, mesmerized by his escape.

  “We stayed at top speed until we could make port. Three days we went, until we met a small island that a group of villagers occupied. We put in there and replenished our stores. From that day on, that was our line. The island of Myrth, and we never sailed past its shores again. Not in all the years I remained on that vessel.”

  “Wow,” Rey agreed. “So, you’re saying there’s an island of dragons out here, and they’ll be watching for us so we don’t get too close.”

  “I’m not saying anything of the sort,” Piers bit back angrily. “I never saw any island, and I never actually saw the dragon. Some of the men described it, fair enough, and from what I fought last night, their accounts were true. What it means, I can’t say. Sailors don’t speak of the flying devil. It’s bad luck, as you all well know,” he growled.

  “It means we have to be careful,” Ami whispered.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Baldwin observed. “An island or no island, it’s the edge of the world we have to watch out for. If we’re moving west, and there’s no wind to blow us there, then we’re caught in the current. That’s where we are.”

  “What current?” Piers clipped, giving him a scowl.

  “The current. The water is moving fast, flowing to the edge where it drops off into oblivion.”

  “That’s rubbish,” Rey chortled. “You’re saying the world is flat, when any man with half a brain knows that it isn’t. It’s round, like an orange, and that’s why the sun goes around us every day,” he described, holding up his hand and his portion of bread to demonstrate the piece of fruit with the sun making its trek around it.

  “You two,” Ami intervened. “The map is flat, but only because the table is flat, and it has an edge all around our ring of land called the netherlands, so someone has seen it. What matters is that we are alive, and we won’t be if we panic about falling off the edge!”

  “That means it’s unexplored, the netherlands does, that’s all,” Reynard retorted.

  “Quiet, all of you,” Piers commanded sternly, holding his temples at their bickering. “Flat or round, it makes no difference. We’ll either fall off the edge, or we’ll come out on the east side of the eastern lands when we come around the other side. We’ll find out soon enough if we don’t figure out how to get out of this current.” Or starve to death before we get there, he thought to himself angrily.

  Presented with a real problem they could address, they began pondering ideas for beating the pull of the water as it sucked them along. Leaning over to tap the smooth water, Rey sent a small set of ripples across it, then sighed. “I wish we had a paddle for a dinghy,” he confessed, thinking of the smaller boats that some ships carried upon them. “That would have been nice.”

  “Yes, it would have. Unfortunately, we didn’t have any on our ship, or we wouldn’t have needed to build the raft,” Piers pointed out, running his hand through his hair and over his brow. Sweat smeared on his forehead, he had been wiping at it at more frequent intervals.

  “It’s getting rather warm,” he observed, looking around at the others and seeing that Amicia’s fair skin appeared flushed. “Ami, use your lid as a shade and hide beneath it,” he commanded, demonstrating with his own, which put him in an awkward position. “Like this.”

  For the girl, it was easier, as she had the pack of goods to sit on. Holding the flat surface above her, she smiled, “Am I covered?”

  “Yes, it’ll keep the sun off of you. We’re out in it more, I guess, so we won’t burn as easily as you.”

  “All right,” she agreed, adjusting her cover to produce the widest patch of shelter.

  Returning to their discussion about steering, they searched for a method that seemed at least plausible. “How about if we get out and swim?” Rey suggested. “We can push the flat along for Ami, and even take turns if we have to.”

  “Even if we could, we couldn’t keep it up indefinitely,” Piers shrugged, indicating the patch of land that had clearly moved to the east. “As soon as we stop, we would be moving in the wrong direction again, and that’s assuming we could overcome it at all. Even the three of us might not be strong enough to beat it.”

  Observing the land as well, Bally gasped, “We’re moving so fast, why can’t we feel it? That land is going to be gone before the sun sets. Do you think we’re already past the ring of the western coast?”

  “Maybe, at this speed,” Piers agreed. “Without our charts and the stars to go by, it’s hard to say where we are.”

  “So, we stay in the flow and hope it takes us to land,” Rey observed. “And hope we find it before the dragon finds us.” Having grown warmer than he could stand, he reached over and splashed himself with a few handfuls of the salty water and then scrunched down in his barrel, holding his lid over his head as well. “At least this is cooler,” he announced after he had gotten settled.

  By late afternoon, they all sat huddling beneath their tiny patches of shade. They bobbed along in semi-consciousness as the four of them slept off and on until Bally finally stood, turning his back on the girl. Hanging over the side of his accommodations, he relieved his bladder into the water below. As soon as he did, the other two males stood and urinated, Rey adding a groan of satisfaction to the process.

  “Hey, that’s not fair!” Amicia complained, a tear forming in her eye. She had been thinking of just how she could work out taking a piss for what seemed like hours, and here they had taken their own right in front of her.

  “Get up and hang it over the side,” Piers informed her bluntly. “It’s only the four of us here, so it’s not like anyone else will see.”

  “You’ll see!” she snapped. “This isn’t a dress,” she reminded him, “I can’t hide anything under these… things!” The very thought of it brought a hot flush to her cheeks.

  Sulking, she sat in her tube and waited, the pressure inside her building. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she unfastened the pants and began jerking them down her legs. Her bladder aching, she hoped that she could get them off before she fouled the inside of her barrel.

  Hopping up onto the side and fighting for her balance, her pee dribbled, then squirted in a solid stream, loudly hitting the smooth water below. When she dared to look over at the men she felt sure were watching her, she discovered their lids all sitting on top of their barrels. They had each sunken inside and sealed themselves in to give her all the privacy they could.

  When she had finished, she managed to get her pants back into place and secured them. “Thank you,” she announced loudly. “I’m decent again.”

  Pushing their lids up, the trio of men rejoined her, pretending as if nothing had happened.

  “Hand me the bag, and we’ll set it up here to dry now,” the Mate commanded. Pulling it out for him, she plunked it onto the center barrel once more, then balanced her personal shade above her head. Returning to their discussion of the west, the world, and how they might steer the flat, they whiled away the minutes until the sun had made its journey across the sky and it was time to break out their dinner, such as it was.

  Dragon Tales

  Lying in his barrel, Rey used his lid for shade to protect himself from the glaring sun. It had been seven days since the ship sank, and they were doing their best to make their food stretch. Outside, he could hear the splashing as Baldwin surfaced next to their small craft.

  “You see anything?” he called, not bothering to stand.

  “Naw,” Bally replied, hoisting himself up. Once inside his own cask, he placed his lid over his head and grunted. “This is a damn dead sea, for sure.”

  “Don’t say
dead,” Piers corrected from inside his tank. “I’ll go next,” he informed them. Climbing out of the tube, he located the end of the rope his crewman had left coiled over the others that held the barrels together. Tying it around his waist, he gave it a tug to ensure it was secure, then dove into the clear blue water from the front side.

  They had been using the setup for days, searching the bottom below for anything they could use or eat. The rope kept them connected to the raft, so it didn’t float too far ahead and strand them while they were submerged. Leaving by the front, the flat would pass overhead while he searched, and he would surface behind it when he caught up, as their pace had slowed, but they still moved towards the west.

  On the bottom, he scoured over jagged rocks. Only about three or four fathoms down, the sun shone brightly through the shallow depths, illuminating the barren bottom. That had been about all he had seen each time that he went down; stretches of rock or sand with little or no vegetation growing in it. He kept telling the others that eventually they would find something, but he had begun to wonder if that were true.

  When his lungs grew tired, he swam for the surface, clinging to The Bobber for a minute on the back side. Refreshed, he dove under to return to his empty cask and climbed out to sit on the narrow edge of the platform that served as the base to their craft. It floated about two feet below the surface of the water, so small waves lapped at his chest as he breathed.

  “Guys, I hate to admit it,” he said wearily, “but if there could be a desert in the middle of the ocean, I think we’ve found it. The water is so shallow here, like we should be near land, and yet there’s nothing…” His voice trailed away.

  “Great,” Bally replied, tapping the side of his tank with his knuckles out of boredom. “Now what do we do?”

  “We take a nap and conserve our energy,” the Mate replied, standing to get back over into his space. “We’ll eat when the sun gets low and talk about our options.”

  Listening to the exchange, Rey thought about the young woman in the barrel next to him. “How you doing over there, Amicia?”

  When she failed to reply, he got to his feet and leaned over the opening, shoving her lid aside to peer down at her. She sat on their dwindling sack of food, her head resting against the wall of the container with her eyes closed. Studying her, he detected the movement of her chest that signaled she was napping, and probably had been the entire time.

  “I don’t like how much she sleeps,” he announced to the other two.

  “It’s better that she does,” Piers countered. “With nothing to do but worry, at least she’s keeping her sanity.”

  “I think she’s sick,” Bally chimed in, tapping again.

  “Maybe,” Rey agreed, taking a seat and covering himself once more. Drifting off into a fitful slumber, he was awakened by wild screams to find the sun had all but set. “What’s happening!” he shouted, standing up in his tube.

  Looking around, he discovered that everyone was up, but it had been the girl crying out. “Are you ok?” he demanded, seizing her by the arm to pull her over for inspection.

  “I’m fine,” she snapped, yanking the appendage away. “A nightmare, that’s all.”

  “Another one,” Bally clipped, cutting his eyes over at the girl. She had awoken with screams and tears half a dozen times by then, but so far had refused to divulge the details of her visions.

  “Leave her alone,” Rey instructed, still attempting to stroke her arms and comfort her. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready,” he said softly, his hazel orbs filled with concern.

  Looking up at him dolefully, Ami didn’t reply. Instead, she shifted the gaze over to Piers and asked, “Is it time for the meal?”

  “Aye,” he agreed, offering his hands to receive their bag of rations. After two days, they had counted their food supply, only to discover it would last only two weeks, provided they all continued to eat, and it would be exhausted in a few days.

  There had been a bit of discussion about how to make it last longer, but eating less than one small meal a day each seemed counterproductive. Instead, they had grouped it into small bundles, which they broke open one per evening and shared. During the day, they enjoyed water, but that too was running low.

  Following his nightly routine, Piers unrolled the scroll of paper and made a note of the day, the depth of the water, and the terrain along the bottom. He also penned that they were going to consume their dinner and that they still had not seen any signs of life in the water below them. Rolling it up, he returned it to the pack and retrieved their bundle of food.

  The others might have thought his recordkeeping silly, but none said so if they did. Everything they could do to normalize their existence strengthened their chances of surviving, and they would never take that away from him. Of course, if they died, the log would serve as their epitaph; the details of their final days upon the earth.

  “Rey, I believe it’s your turn for the story, mate,” he informed the younger man when he handed him his hunk of meat and sliver of cheese.

  They had been taking turns, each of them sharing something from their childhood, or some other interesting event. Nothing too deep; just something to pass the time and keep them sane while they bobbed along.

  “I’m running out of stories,” he grunted in reply.

  “Well, it’s your turn, so come up with something,” the other man stated more gruffly, refusing to let him bow out.

  “Fine,” Rey scowled, nibbling a few bites off of his meat and chewing them with quick, small motions that twitched his nose as if he were a rabbit. Feeling an anxious twist in his gut, he glared at the woman next to him. She had grown temperamental and had little to say to any of them. “Want to hear another dragon story? I don’t have much else left.”

  “Another one?” she groaned. All three of the men had taken to telling dragon tales, and she had heard at least a dozen by that point. Part of her considered they might have been the cause of her disturbed sleep, but she wasn’t about to admit it. “Ok, let’s hear it,” she sighed while rolling her eyes.

  Ami doubted that any of the stories had been true, except maybe the first one, which had been the Mate’s explanation of when he had first encountered one of the beasts. Come to think of it, it had been his only one, as well. The rest had come from Rey and Bally, as if the pair were each trying to outdo the other in the grandeur and sheer stupidity of their exploits.

  “All right,” Rey grinned wryly. “If you recall from my last adventure, I grew up on a fairly large island called Domania.”

  “Yes, on a farm,” Bally sneered.

  “Hey, there is nothing wrong with a farm,” Rey shot back, glancing at the girl and noting her pallor as she picked at her food. “Anyway, we had eight of us kids there. Eight living anyways. Mum had three that didn’t survive, and they were buried out in the field.”

  “In the field?” Ami asked in surprise, cutting her eyes over to glare at him. “You didn’t have a graveyard or cemetery on your little island?”

  “It was a family plot,” he offered, turning his hand up to the sky. “So, I had seven siblings, only I was almost the last one born. Only one other boy came after me.”

  “Where’s the island?” Piers interrupted.

  “What difference does that make?” Rey demanded.

  “It just does,” the Mate scowled. “I’m trying to get a good picture on this, and you have to tell us all you can. It’s the story and keeping our minds busy so we don’t go crazy out here, so tell it right, Reynard.”

  “Ok, the farm was built on a new settlement on one of the western isles, on the edge of the ring. Domania, like I said.”

  “I know that place,” Bally grinned. “They have a lot of cattle and stuff there.”

  “Yeah, we milked the cows and made cheese for trading,” Rey agreed, studying the lump still in his hand as he worked to make it last. “Anyway, late at night, while everyone was asleep, these creatures would come flying in. Most of the time, they stole our cows,
but every once in a while, they would leave one all burnt up, like a smoking pile of wood that smelled like –”

  “That’s disgusting,” Ami cut him off. “Are you trying to make me sick?”

  Rey glared at her, his mouth hanging open, before he managed to reply, “No. Why would I try to make you sick?” His voice rippled with anger, and his teeth clamped shut in a near snarl.

  “All right, I think that’s enough story time,” Piers took charge before the two of them came to blows.

  “But I’m not finished,” the other man shouted, waving his arms at the two of them. “You said you wanted a story, damn it!”

  “Well, finish, but you don’t have to be so explicit,” Ami said with a small pout.

  Frowning, Rey pushed on. “So, sometimes, during the night our farm would be visited by creatures. Flying monsters who stole our cows or burned their bodies. I could lay in bed at night and listen to them screeching like they were talking to each other, too. The village in the middle of our community was terrified of them, and they called them dragons.”

  Bally rolled his eyes, emitting a small snicker, “Wow, wonder where they got that.”

  “Well, these dragons were really vile, and they tormented us. They let us rebuild our barns, our crops, or our herds. whatever they destroyed. But, they only did it so they could come back later and tear it all down again,” he insisted. “I think they could have totally wiped us out if they wanted to, but they didn’t, like it was a sick game of some kind.”

  “Is that why you were so adamant about them that day in the wheel house?” Ami cut in with the connection, suddenly suspecting at least this story was true.

  Locking his jaw, Rey glared at her. “Ok, yeah. Only, I was a kid, so I didn’t understand what was going on, and the grownups didn’t talk about it in front of us. It was all dark and mysterious. All I heard were the whispers and half conversations. And the dragons when they were tearing up the place.” He envisioned his secret attempts to get a look at them when he was young and how the flying shadows he had discovered had haunted him beyond words.