Ocean of Dust

by Graeme Ing

  "We've got to hide," she said. "Down again."

  The galley hallway was empty, but the sounds of the brawl were loud. Boots appeared on the ladder above them, and Lissa grabbed Branda's hand and darted into the nearest storeroom, looking for a pile of sacks to hide behind.

  Two of Nib's friends followed them into the room. Each clutched a huge knife that glinted in the light of the hallway globes. Their clothes were dirty and torn, and their heads were bald. Blab, the larger man, had a thick, blonde beard that tapered to a point.

  "Look what we got 'ere," he said, with a wide, lopsided grin.

  Lissa retreated against a pile of sacks, thrusting Branda behind her. Branda peered under her armpit.

  "We're not a part of all this," Lissa told them. "We're not on anyone's side. We just cook dinner."

  "Farq wants you," the smaller man snarled. "You're coming with us."

  He stepped forward, arms wide, herding them toward the rear of the room.

  "Let 'em go," Mampalo said, appearing in the doorway, breathing hard.

  "Mamp!" Lissa gasped.

  "Walk away, Blab." He aimed his saber at the man's chest. "They're just girls."

  Blab raised his knife and advanced on Mampalo, while the other man continued to approach Lissa. She and Branda backed against the wall.

  Mampalo made a lightning thrust at Blab's midriff, but Blab beat it away with his knife and kicked Mampalo in the leg.

  The other man lunged forward and grabbed Lissa's arm.

  "Gotcha." He smirked.

  She struggled to break loose, but his fingers dug into her arm, turning her skin red. He dragged her toward the doorway.

  "I got 'er. Now you walk away," he said to Mampalo.

  Lissa could see that Mampalo had the clear advantage of reach with his saber, and none of Blab's stabs got near him. His gorgeous yellow eyes focused unblinking on his opponent's face.

  Chuckling, Blab reached behind himself, and with a smooth movement took the knife from his friend's hand, flipped it around, and with both knives lunged at Mampalo.

  "Interfering Drujan."

  "Let the girls go and I won't run you through," Mampalo cried, and dodged sideways, narrowly escaping both blades. He stabbed his sword through Blab's left arm. Lissa winced as the tip pierced straight through, spraying the room with blood.

  Blab ignored the wound. Instead, he pushed a knife into Mampalo's guts.

  "Idiot. Always fight to kill." He gave it a hard twist both ways.

  "No!" Lissa cried.

  Mampalo faltered. He released his grip on his sword, which slipped out of Blab's arm and clattered to the deck. He uttered a gurgling, gagging noise, and then looked down, staring in disbelief as blood erupted from his body.

  Chapter 22 - Imprisoned

  "Mampalo," Lissa screamed.

  She punched and kicked at the man dragging her toward the ladder. His grip tightened and he turned his head away from her pummeling. She clawed at him, trying to go back. Mampalo stumbled against the wall and slid to the floor. His eyes registered surprise, fear, and then pain. He clasped his trembling hands to his body, but blood gushed over them.

  Her captor snorted and carried her. Behind them, Blab wrapped his arm around Branda's neck and shoved her ahead of him. He kicked Mampalo as he walked by, and laughed when Mampalo reached out feebly with one hand.

  "Leave him alone," Lissa shrieked. "Call the physiker."

  "He'll be dead soon enough."

  Her body went limp and she let herself be hauled up the ladder, glancing over her shoulder and blinking tears away. Mampalo's head slumped forward, and his bloody hands fell to his sides. His breathing was irregular, and with each exhale the pool of blood on the floor spread wider. Her stomach churned at the thought of him dying alone.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

  She kept her gaze on him until the last minute when Blab pulled her up to the mess deck. Then Mampalo was gone from her. Tears streamed down her face and she cried so hard that snot dribbled from her nose. She paid no attention to the shattered globes crunching underfoot, the overturned benches, or the men lying lifeless on the deck. Blab stepped over them as if they were a piece of timber someone had left there.

  She blinked to find herself in front of the rear door; the one Mampalo had barreled through on her first day, knocking her to the floor. Blab pulled the door open and the men shoved her and Branda inside.

  The room served as the junior officer’s mess, but she had never seen inside. Larger than the navigator's cabin, but half the size of the infirmary, six people berthed here. Scheepas were tied to the forward bulkhead, and a table and two benches stood along the starboard side. Morning suns-light flooded in through two small windows on the rear wall, which looked out over the ship's wake. The dust ocean lay only eight feet below.

  So many people inside. The captain perched on one of the benches, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs. She wiped away the tears and avoided his gaze. What was he doing here? Jancid, the oldest member of the crew, sat to the captain's left, his face thin and shriveled, and his white hair contrasting the captain’s long, ink-black ponytails. Grad, the Bandit player, stood by the windows, scratching his bushy brown beard and muttering to the man next to him, a thin and balding man named Sawall. On the windowsill sat a scruffy boy with a cap. She had never learned his name. Behind her, two grim-faced guards blocked the exit, their halberds clasped in both hands. Blab muttered something to them and then left the room, closing the door.

  Lissa glanced at the long faces. Were these the only survivors? Had Farq killed everyone else? What about the navigator, the physiker and Cook? She gasped. They couldn't have sided with Farq.

  No one spoke or moved for a long time, until the door sprang open and Farq strode into the room. His uniform looked crisp and clean, and not blood-smeared or dusty like everyone else’s. When he saw her, a wide grin spread across his face. Oban, the navigator hurried in behind him. Lissa sighed with relief, but the captain clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes.

  "No more bloodshed," Oban croaked to Farq. "Honor the captain, even in his defeat."

  "Shut up. I decide his fate."

  "Hurt them and I refuse to help you," Oban said.

  "Then you'll suffer alongside these fools," Farq snapped. "I won't tolerate traitors to my cause."

  Oban didn't appear threatened. "The ship is dead without me. You can't harm me."

  "Are you challenging me?"

  "No," Oban said softly. "I acknowledge you as our new captain. The price for my loyalty is that you spare their lives."

  His gaze swept around the room. His frown deepened when he spotted her, and then he raised one eyebrow.

  Despite the danger, she found their argument fascinating, surprised at the authority wielded by the navigator. He and Farq faced off for several moments.

  "I'll think on it," Farq said, and then spun around, shoving the guards out of his way.

  Oban followed, his cloak swirling about him.

  "Bring that little girl," Farq shouted over his shoulder. "Cook needs help."

  Blab stepped into the room, snatched Branda's arm and pulled her away.

  "Lissa," Branda cried, reaching back.

  "I'll come too," Lissa said, rushing forward.

  Blab backhanded her to the floor. "Just her."

  Branda whimpered and struggled.

  "You'll be safe with Cook," Lissa said. "Do as she tells you. I'll join you soon."

  The door slammed behind the man and Branda was gone. Lissa crawled into a corner. She tried to be happy that Cook was alive, though working for Farq. She nodded to herself. Branda would be safer in the galley than here with her.

  No one spoke and the captain remained deep in thought. What was Farq planning to do with them all? She tried to calm her breathing and drummed her fingers slowly on the wooden deck.

  Shortly after the midday bell, the guards were replaced and two buckets brought in, one full of water and the other sta
cked with bread, cheese and stale cakes. Lissa jumped up and served the captain first. Her hands trembled but her body tensed, expecting him to yell or push her away. It seemed wrong for him to be seated and her to stand above him. He accepted the mug she offered and took a long drink. She listened to the men’s slurping and munching. Not hungry, she stuffed her own food into her pockets for later. The captain watched her, and her cheeks flushed. He simply nodded and did the same.

  To pass the afternoon, she observed how the shadows spread across the room and down the far bulkhead. One by one, the men stood at the open window and relieved themselves, so she turned away. The quiet gnawed at her nerves. She wanted to scream or talk to someone, but didn't dare break the silence.

  Finally, the door opened and the crew chief squeezed in, his giant figure hunched double. The captain exhaled violently, as if he had been holding his breath all day.

  "Wait outside," Sam told the guards.

  "Farq told us-"

  "I don't care. Get out."

  The captain offered his seat on the bench. "You'll cramp your neck."

  Sam grunted his thanks and sat, his head still bent against the ceiling timbers.

  "I expected more from you," the captain continued. "Frankly, I never imagined such treachery from Farq. I hope you're ready for the trouble you've brought upon yourself. Under treaty law you're marked men, whether I live or not."

  Not wanting to openly stare, Lissa watched from eye-corner. The sadness was clear in Sam's eyes. She had come to think of him as a friend. How could he side with Farq?

  "I'll not forgive myself for betraying you," Sam said in a deep but quiet voice. "If I find myself at your sword point, I reckon I'll get what I deserve. But Farq is my gal-mas. He saved my life as a lad. My life is his, however he commands."

  "Then leave," the captain snapped. "We have nothing more to discuss."

  "I gave him my oath to be his deck master, but mean you no ill. He intends to kill you, all of you."

  Lissa's stomach flipped. The image of Mampalo lying in his own blood popped into her head. She moaned and shook it away.

  Sam stood.

  "Oban sent this." He handed the captain a folded parchment, and then squeezed out of the room.

  The captain stared at the closed door for a long moment, and then sat. He read the letter silently, and then read it a second time. He glanced at her over the top, and sawed his teeth.

  Her cheeks burned. She looked quickly down. A tiny crawlie scurried across the deck. A man's boot crushed it, making her jump.

  When the guards showed no sign of returning, Grad crossed the room and placed his ear to the door.

  "I can 'ear 'em talking, sir."

  "We could storm 'em," Jancid said, and then blew his nose on his shirt sleeve. "Grab their weapons. I ain't too old to fight."

  "Aye," the others agreed in low voices.

  Lissa tried desperately to think of how she could help. Could the Klynaks do anything? She doubted they would get involved.

  "I bet I could climb out the window," she said. All eyes fell on her. "Er... I could get help, or fetch something."

  "I could too," the boy said.

  "Maybe there are other prisoners elsewhere," Jancid said.

  "Aye, we could break out and rescue 'em."

  "Fight back when they least expect it."

  The captain cleared his throat and everyone fell silent. "Don't take Farq for a fool. He's devious and he’ll be expecting us to fight. The guards’ll be ready for us."

  "Or worse," Grad mumbled. "He's got a cruel streak."

  Lissa swallowed and nodded.

  "You're all good men." The captain caught the eye of everyone except herself and the boy. "But we need a proper plan. These are desperate, armed men. Assuming Farq has the rest of the crew, we cannot win a fight that we lost the first time."

  Jancid sniffed. "So if fighting ain't an option, what’re we gonna do?"

  Once again, the men growled their desire to fight, but the captain waved them to be quiet. He strode to the window and stuck his head out, looking left, right and up.

  "Sawall," he said, beckoning the man over. "You're a climber-"

  "Yessir," Sawall replied, puffing his chest.

  "Can you and Coy scramble out here and find a way to untie one of the ship's boats, and get it down here without anyone seeing?"

  "Aye, I bet we can."

  The captain clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man. It's a tough task, I admit. Be careful and be quiet."

  Sawall and the boy climbed easily out of the window, and then disappeared up and to the left. Having had several falls herself, she knew the risk they took.

  "What are you thinking, cap'n?" Jancid asked.

  The captain turned to the old sailor. "I see no other option than to escape in the boat."

  Jancid and Grad complained but he raised his hand to silence them.

  "I know, I know. I've run this ship for nine Sunturns now. It's our home, but it's not worth more loss of life."

  "What if the guards come back?" Jancid said.

  "We'll deal with that rough passage if we get to it. Let's pray the lads work swiftly."

  "Aye, sir. We're with ye whatever 'appens."

  The room was bathed in orange as fiery Eldrar slipped beneath the flat horizon of the dust ocean. Indar raced after it. The captain glanced regularly toward the window.

  "Where we gonna go?" Grad asked.

  "Oban says there are islands to the south," the captain whispered. "I'm not sure how far, but it's the only chance we have. It might take a few days."

  "How're we gonna survive?"

  "I can get food," Lissa squeaked.

  "Water's the main problem," the captain continued. "Grad, fill these buckets, and any other containers you can find."

  "Aye," Grad replied, and opened a hatch in the bulkhead to reveal a small basin and tap, similar to the one in Lissa's washroom, but without a shower.

  "I can steal food," she said, louder, determined to demonstrate her usefulness. What if they didn't need a girl and left her behind?

  "What are you bleating about?" The captain glared at her. "Stay out of the way."

  "I can sneak below and steal food for us all."

  His eyebrows rose. "How?"

  The full impact of her plan rushed through her mind, and she finally registered how dangerous it would be if she were caught. Why had she stuck her neck out? Because she wanted to prove herself to the captain. Her newfound loyalty surprised her.

  "Speak, girl. Time is not on our side."

  She blinked and scanned the floor. "Somewhere here is a hatch down to the storerooms. I've seen it from below."

  "Can we escape that way?" Jancid asked, spitting out the fingernail he was chewing.

  She shook her head. "It's barely large enough for me. But I can bring food back."

  "Do it," the captain said. "As much as you can, as quick as you can. Find that hatch."

  Grad found it moments later after dragging aside a large chest. He lifted the wooden hatch cover and slid it aside. Everyone knelt and peered into the semi-darkness of a storeroom piled high with sacks.

  "This is next to Cook's cabin," she whispered.

  The captain nodded. She hoped for a smile or a word of encouragement, but his face was stern. She lowered herself into the hole and dropped five feet to land on the hard sacks. The cover slid back into place above her. She crossed to the hallway and peeked out. Cook's door was closed. There was no one in the dim hallway, but normal sounds came from the galley, and she heard two gruff voices further on, toward the manger.

  The sacks around her held dry beans and uncooked oodspal, food that would feed them for many days in the boat, but how would she cook them? Fresh vegetables and fruit would be good for their diet, and dried meat, but that would mean venturing into the other storerooms.

  Branda's voice came from the galley. Lissa retreated into the shadows. It wouldn't do for Branda to find her, in case she cried out and alerted the guards.
Lissa longed to run and embrace her friend, but knew she had to be strong. Others were depending on her now, and she wouldn't let them down. Branda had looked after herself long before Lissa had arrived. She would be safe. Lissa took a deep breath and counted slowly to ten.

  Convinced Branda wasn't about to leave the galley, Lissa tiptoed into the hallway and moved along it as quickly as she dared. A dark stain coated a section of the wall and floor. Mampalo! She clapped both hands to her mouth to smother her gasp, searching for any evidence, any trail, that they had dragged him to the physiker. He had died defending her and Branda. She hadn't even had a chance to thank him. A tear dribbled down her cheek.

  She darted past the galley and moved forward beyond the mast. Sure enough, two armed men blocked the way, but they had their backs to her, so she slipped into the storeroom behind them. There she found a crate of dried meat and lifted it awkwardly.

  "What're you doing sneaking about?"

  Chapter 23 - Escape

  The crate slipped from her hands and crashed to the deck, narrowly missing her toes. She spun to face the two men from the hallway, one tall and bug-eyed and the other fatter. Each gripped the hilt of his sword, edging it from its scabbard.

  "I... I'm fetching meat for Cook." She backed against the wall.

  The tall man turned to the fat one. "Ain't she the girl they got locked up?"

  "What, the one who went missing?"

  "No, the one locked up astern with the cap'n."

  "That was the third girl, wasn't it?" The short man squinted at her.

  "Yes," she said. "They locked up my friend."

  Both men stared at her.

  She reached down with trembling hands and picked up the heavy crate. "Cook'll beat me if I don't get back."

  The tall man shrugged and stepped aside. She walked wide around them and scurried out of the door, shifting the crate for a better grip.

  "I was sure it was the other girl," the man muttered as they both headed back the other way.

  She moved quietly along the hallway, giving the bloodstain a wide berth. Back in the aft storeroom, she dumped the crate on top of the sacks and shook her throbbing arms. Using a loose piece of timber, she tapped softly on the hatch overhead. No answer. She knocked louder. Had the guards returned?