Loss of the Resolute: A Dark Fantasy (Fractured Lands Book 1)

by Greg Alldredge

Kanika was quick to add, “It’s even lighter in the forward part of the space.”

  “That would seem to mean it isn’t the cargo,” said Hakeem, quick to admit he was wrong.

  “No, I don’t think it’s the cargo. But we need to find the smell before it gets worse.” Kanika began walking towards the aft end of the berthing deck.

  Hakeem disappeared from the cargo hatch and stuck his head back down the aft ladder. He quickly coughed as the stink washed over him. “I can tell you, sure enough, it still smells back here.”

  “I can’t see anything that would cause it to smell so badly.” She moved with a purpose, searching as she went, making her best time possible toward the back ladder.

  After taking a deep breath in the fresh air, Hakeem stuck his head back inside the hatch. “What’s that down there?” Hakeem pointed directly below him.

  “Why don’t you come down here and find out? Kanika stopped, breathing through her mouth, trying to mitigate the assault on her nose. It smelled so bad she could even taste the odor, if that were possible.

  “I don’t see why I would have to, you’re already down there. I might add, doing a wonderful job.” Hakeem’s head disappeared as he went for fresh air.

  Kanika whispered under her breath, “Dickbiter.” About the same time, she came across an out-of-place canvas. Bracing herself for the worst, she pulled back the cloth to reveal what it concealed. Under it, she found a wooden bucket, the contents of which caused her gag reflex to go into overdrive. Thankfully she hadn’t eaten since the pork sandwich earlier, so she had nothing to hurl across the deck.

  She threw back the canvas at the same time Hakeem stuck his head back through the hatch. Unprepared, his face caught a full-frontal assault as the aroma rose from the bucket and into his face. Hakeem had eaten his cold lunch, so the contents of his stomach spilled over the deck as he found the stench overpowering.

  Stumbling away from the container, closer to the open cargo hatch, Kanika coughed while she gagged.

  In the interim, Hakeem steadied himself. His head poked in from the hatch above Kanika. “What the goddess’s name was that?”

  “Somebody used a bucket as a honeypot and left it while we were in port,” Kanika managed to spit out through the coughs.

  “A what?”

  “Hakeem, for such a smart man, there are times you can be foolish. Somebody shit in a bucket and left it while we were in port. They covered it with a tarp so nobody would find it.”

  Hakeem found it hard not to roll on his back in a fit of laughter.

  Kanika shouted through the hatch, “Damn it, if you think it’s so funny, I order you to get your ass down here and throw this bucket away. Then get the watch, let’s crack open the cargo hold and see what we might find.”

  Hakeem continued to laugh, but Kanika heard his footfalls on the deck above. She had to think of a way to air out the compartment before they left in the morning. On second thought, Hakeem needed to find a way to air out the compartment before the morning.

  She stood as far back as possible while Hakeem held his breath and descended the ladder. Bucket in hand, he gagged five or six times before he reached the top of the ladder. She should’ve told him to throw it over the side, but the thought of his expression while dumping it overboard strangely satisfied her.

  As soon as the bucket left the space, the air began to clear. Kanika made her way to the forward ladder. When she popped her head out of the hatch, she regarded Hakeem at the starboard gunnel, pouring the contents of the bucket overboard. Occasionally his mouth would open fully, with the contractions of his belly clearly visible.

  “Serves you right!” she shouted and continued, “I need the watch to come below and open the cargo hatch. Use the forward ladder. You will thank me for it.”

  A barrel of freshwater had been lashed to the mainmast, there for anyone to grab a drink while working. With a deliberate motion, she moved to the barrel and sank her head into it up to her neck. Her face didn’t quite burn from the stink, but it itched. She envisioned her hair smelled of the slop.

  Hakeem followed up close behind. The offending bucket had been left at the rail. He quickly washed his face and arms in the drinking water.

  The stench washed out of her nose, Kanika laughed loudly, bringing herself to tears.

  “What’s so funny?” The memory of the funk still fresh in his mind, he fought to hold back the gags.

  Her laughter grew louder at the outlandish expression on his face. Through the laughs, she managed to blurt out. “You want to become pirates, and you were just thwarted by a bucket of shit.”

  “Let’s go check this cargo.” Hakeem pushed away from the barrel.

  Kanika understood she had hurt his feelings, but the truth needed to be told. This crew wasn’t hard enough to be privateers.

  The trip into the cargo hold became easier with the bucket removed. The berthing compartment already began to air out. By the crew’s return in the morning, it should be bearable.

  “We will leave the cargo hatch open overnight. That should help clear the air,” Hakeem said looking down into the dark cargo hold.

  “Yes, it doesn’t look like rain tonight, besides we’ll close this hatch as soon as we’re finished. After you?” Kanika mirrored Hakeem’s earlier bow with a sweeping left arm inviting him to take the lead.

  The wooden ladder into the hold creaked from little use as they scampered down. Once Kanika ensured he stood out of the way, she followed behind him.

  “Since when do people ship cornmeal in wooden boxes? The cost of the nails alone must be more than the cornmeal.” Hakeem tapped on one of the sides to prove his point.

  “It does seem odd, but the boxes do stack easier than the normal sacks.” Kanika became curious why her father had sent her off while the ship loaded out. Perhaps he didn’t want her around to ask questions.

  “Let’s open one of the boxes and check out this cornmeal.” Hakeem searched for a cat’s paw to yank the nails.

  “It’s highly out of the ordinary and against the contract to open cargo.” Kanika’s stomach grew queasy at the thought of breaking a contract. However, she wanted to make sure what they carried wasn’t a danger for the Resolute.

  The crates were freshly sealed, the square nails pulled easily as Hakeem worked the cat’s paw like an expert. Against her better judgment, Kanika searched out another tool and began pulling nails.

  All but a few pulled, they both wrestled the lid of the box open, only to find oilcloth lying on top of the contents.

  “Why would anyone wrap cornmeal in oilcloth?” Kanika gazed across the crate at Hakeem, who shrugged his answer.

  With great care, they lifted the oilcloth, unsure what they would find underneath it. Their high expectations were shattered when the covering revealed nothing but cornmeal underneath.

  “That can’t be! Why would someone go to so much trouble to protect such a commonplace cargo? Why ship something that can be made on every island?” Hakeem turned his back on the crate, his hopes of finding a conspiracy dashed.

  Kanika started pushing her hand into the cornmeal. “Hold on a moment, there is something under the cornmeal. It feels like more oilcloth.”

  Hakeem spun around and helped Kanika push the cornmeal aside to search for what lay hidden beneath. The second layer of oilcloth removed, they discovered a bright yellow powder, the likes of which neither had ever seen.

  Hakeem stared into Kanika’s eyes. “What is it?”

  Kanika shook her head, “I’ve no idea, but it’s not cornmeal.” She risked a closer inspection, sniffing for any detectable odor. The powder floated into the air from her breath, but she smelled nothing.

  “We need to seal this back up and join the crew.” Kanika started flattening the oilcloth over the yellow powder.

  “But we must tell someone. We have to tell the captain.” Hakeem put his hand on her hers to stop her.

  She shrugged him off. “We need to tell him what? That we broke the contract by opening th
e crate? What did we find, Hakeem? Yellow powder, that is all. Who are we to care if someone wants to ship yellow powder disguised as cornmeal? I can tell you now the captain isn’t going to care what’s in this box. He will care that we broke the contract. Now help me seal this back up so we can join the crew on the beach.”

  Hakeem watched her for a moment, but eventually her steel gaze broke his resolve. He joined her in closing the container.

  “And not a word of this to anyone. Last thing I want is to get ten lashings for your fool’s errand. Do you understand?” Kanika understood he was disappointed, but she finally did get him to grunt his acceptance.

  Chapter 7:

  On the rocky coast, Kanika and Hakeem separated, leaving each other to their own thoughts. Kanika understood they were a long way from the war. Their cargo and the secret cargo did little to settle her nerves. Unsure what it all meant, she would be much happier when they made port and offloaded the damnable powder, whatever it was.

  The evening meal sat like a lump of ballast in her stomach. Sleep evaded her as she curled up on the dry rocks. She was not a religious person, but before bed, she said a short prayer to the Old Man’s conjoined twins, those responsible for fate and worshiped mostly by traveling minstrels and gamblers. The twins named with a single name, Harper, represented as a girl conjoined with a boy wearing a flowing gown.

  Kanika whispered in prayer, “Harper, the odds are in our favor. The water has been calm, the winds in our favor. Continue to keep your older sister, Sinead, under control. Don’t let her good mood turn to anger. See us home safely.”

  Before sunrise, Kanika heard the watch stationed on the Resolute ringing the ship’s bell. Jolted from her slumber, she stood up before she realized it echoed not as the rapid sound of a battle alarm but a calmer tempo informing everyone it was time to get up. It was followed quickly by a bosun’s pipe that sounded the wakeup call. The high-pitched cry flowed over the water and echoed off the black cliffs behind them. It seemed Kanika survived the night with little damage, save a sore back from sleeping on rocks instead of her rack.

  She helped wrestle the crew awake, bribing them with a hot breakfast before continuing to their next anchorage. The glow of first light brightened the sky above the cliff. They would be in the shadow for hours, but it would be bright enough for the ship to continue its journey. The added light gave Kanika a chance to scan the horizon for any indication of trouble ahead; she found none. When she found no vessels in sight, it should have given her a sense of ease. Instead, she experienced the overwhelming feeling of how alone they truly were. She was accustomed to the Resolute traveling for days without seeing land or another vessel. There was no accounting for the unease that settled in her innards, save the warning from the mysterious man in the alley.

  “Stop scaring yourself, woman. Get these land-lovers back onboard so we can continue. That is what you need to do. Not chase some ghost,” she whispered to herself to bolster her spirits.

  Once the crew rousted, things moved quickly. After breakfast, the longboats were eased back into the water with the crew filing in. With the captain in one and Kanika in the other, the crew began rowing back to the Resolute.

  On the forecastle, Kanika scanned the horizon again, finding only water. “Bosun, make ready to get underway. I think today we need another sacrifice to the crazy bitch.”

  Bran gaped at her. Kanika spied the questioning look in his eye, but he was professional enough not to question her order in front of the crew. In a clear voice, he replied, “Aye, First Officer, another sacrifice to Sinead.”

  Kanika left getting underway to the bosun. With the lack of traffic in the area, she felt comfortable leaving the deck for a moment. From the forecastle, she headed aft, climbed the ladder to the sterncastle, and mumbled to the captain in passing, “I’ll be right back.”

  Her father nodded in agreement.

  In her room, she poured water from a pitcher into a basin and washed her face. In the briefest of moments, she scanned the eight by eight cabin that’d been her life for so many years. Then she took off her light linen shirt and scrubbed the cloth over her upper body, letting the cool water lower her body temperature. She reached into her trunk and pulled out a padded leather vest with a raised, hard leather collar explicitly fitted for her body. She knew it would be hot, but the tight fit of the leather armor gave her a sense of comfort. Her sword of office slid into the scabbard integrated into the back.

  Before she finished, she felt the motion of the deck change; they had gotten underway. Another day farther away from any possible help, or a day closer to the destination. May the twins Harper, make it the latter.

  Back on deck and away from the influence of the cliff to the east, the helmsman found a favorable wind into the southeast. Once clear of the small cove, the Resolute went to full sail, running before the wind at best possible speed. The navigator, as was customary, plotted a course with one of the black cliffs in sight. Following one of the edges of the crack made planning the route much easier than guessing where you were in the open water. The ship needed to head east-southeast once they reached the end of the island they followed off the port side.

  Sailing like this made it relatively easy. Kanika was sure the first sailors had gone about creating their charts the same way. It must’ve been petrifying to leave the first island behind with nothing around you but open water. They would have never known if they might find land on the far side or just more water. In several places, even with a favorable wind, it might take many days, a week even, to cross the cracks. Those had to be hardy individuals to push so far into the unknown with no end in sight.

  She stayed at her station longer than she needed to. Overdressed compared to the topless crew around her, a few of the crew even risked more than a sideways glance at her wearing armor, but she paid them no mind. This far north, the crew was more accustomed to seeing her dressed the same as them. A simple loincloth covering her sex, the rest of her body bared to the sun. She didn’t care what they thought. Today, the tight-fitting armor made her feel safe.

  She knew the sentry stationed on the top of the mast, in the bird’s nest, should see anything long before she did, but out of sight of the officers, that watch had a reputation for falling asleep from the added motion so high up. To ease her mind, Kanika spent the day augmenting the top watch with her own eyes. Not only did she check the horizon for signs of sail, but she also watched the coves they passed. They would be an outstanding place to lay in wait for an ambush.

  While underway, a sail could be seen for many miles, a mast with furled sails would be barely visible. It would take a keen eye to spot a vessel lying in wait for an ambush. For better or worse, Kanika spent too much time devising ambush tactics for when she finally took the leap and moved into the life of piracy, but not with this crew. As much as they wanted to bluster, she knew them too well. Most of them were too softhearted to do what needed to be done. The only thing holding her back was her current captain—and father.

  The boredom of standing guard got the better of her. She spent too much time watching the horizon thinking about her future. She was jolted from her contemplation by a call from the bird’s nest, “Ship off the port bow!”

  She spun to her left to look over the rail, and sure enough, there it sat in one of the small coves, like their own cove from the night before. They drew closer, and she spotted the crew scrambling to get underway. From this distance, she could see they ran with no colors like the Resolute. They were unaligned to a city, or they hid their allegiance.

  “Perhaps we startled them, and they think we are a raider coming to attack them,” Bran said from her side.

  Kanika hadn’t even noticed him approach, but she countered, “Or they are raiders coming to attack us.” She checked the sails one more time. The Resolute ran full out, making best possible speed. If they meant to attack them, the Resolute would make no better speed.

  Intrigued, she watched the crew weigh anchor and raise their sails. The
vessel was rigged differently than the Resolute. Instead of having square battened sails, the ship getting underway had a combination of square and triangle sails, with no battens to stiffen them.

  “Bran, have you ever seen a rigging like that? Look at the man working the top. That must be dangerous. Have you ever seen such a thing?”

  “No, ma’am. I’ve never seen a ship like that.”

  The Resolute moved quickly through the water. The craft in the cove would take some time to build up speed. They would find out soon enough if this was a one-off coincidence or if the ship lay in wait for them, for anyone to fall into a trap.

  Kanika wasn’t one to believe in coincidences. Too many things were not adding up. The load of ballast in her stomach got heavier as the ship they passed pulled in three miles behind them and matched their speed.

  Chapter 8:

  “Captain, have you ever seen anything like it?” the navigator asked.

  “Perhaps they’re just going the same way. They’re not gaining on us,” the helmsman added.

  “I’ve never seen sails like that, the design is inspired. The rigging has to be that of a madman or a genius,” Hakeem observed.

  “They have no or little cargo. They sit too high in the water. I don’t believe they have all their sail out.” Kanika’s uneasy feeling was coming true. Harper had turned their back on her.

  “All of you just calm down. They’re not gaining. They might be holding back to give us space. Just being polite. No, I’ve never seen a design like this, but that doesn’t mean anything. New designs are hitting the water every day. The ship could be from anywhere.” The captain stood at the stern trying to ease everyone’s fears.

  Following the captain’s lead, Kanika chimed in after him, “The captain is right. You need to stop behaving like children, shitting your pants the first time trouble arises. We don’t even know if there is trouble. Now, all of you go about your business. Officers go take care of your crew.”