As rowing teams glided by, Zale could tell the novices from the veterans. Whenever he saw a team struggle to synchronize their strokes or perform a smooth turn, he hoped that leader was not who Dippy had in mind.
He smirked upon sighting a shell of four rowers with a female standing at the helm, her voice blaring into the docks. Her mocha-colored skin seemed to shine in the sunlight. Wavy locks of chestnut-and-gold hair draped over a gray headband and played about the shoulder-straps of her sleeveless top.
By now they could hear the lady coxswain’s commands, called out in a clear, well-enunciated voice with husky undertones that demanded attention. “Easy on port!” They turned in toward the dock, her crew in perfect form.
Zale stiffened as the crew boat approached. Surely not, he thought.
“Check it down!” the woman shouted. The crew buried their oars in the water, bringing them to a stop beside the dock.
“Dippy…” Zale said under his breath.
Not twenty feet away, the lady coxswain was stepping onto the dock.
“Daubernoun,” he continued in a low grumble, “what are you getting me into?”
“Captain Murdoch,” Dippy spoke in a grand voice as the woman approached, “please meet Evette Caskmore.”
Evette flashed white teeth, and her big, brown eyes focused sharply on Zale. She stood tall and extended a hand. “Captain Murdoch—I’m honored. I hear you have need of an able coxswain.”
Zale was taken aback by the firmness of her handshake. “Pleasure to meet you.” He leaned in to his first mate. “Dippy, a word with you, please.”
Dippy hastily held up a finger to Evette and turned around with Zale.
“Dippy, what are you doing?” Zale muttered.
“Finding us a coxswain, sir. One of the best.”
“You know we can’t have dames aboard!” Zale hissed. “We’re an all-male crew. A woman would throw our whole operation into a tailspin.”
Women at sea were traditionally considered bad luck. In some ways this went back centuries to superstitions that women aboard ships caused turbulent waves and violent storms.
But Zale knew not all storms were the weather kind.
Some crews handled mixed genders with success. Zale had had no such luck in the past. In his experience, a woman with an otherwise all-male crew was a nearly unavoidable distraction. Confined together for weeks, men could preoccupy themselves with their work, their crass jokes, their unadulterated banter, and the prize to be won. With even one woman aboard, most men became subject to an entirely different set of behaviors and instincts. An otherwise able crew might be thrown off its game.
“I’ve vetted this one, Captain,” Dippy said. “Just speak with her. With time so short, she’s worth at least a consideration.”
Zale groaned. “You might be forgetting, Dippy. At sea, your first love is your ship, and she is a jealous lover. Bring a woman aboard, and the men forget themselves and their duty to the ship. It’s tantamount to adultery!”
Dippy returned a wry smile. “Ironic, sir, coming from the only of us who is, in fact, married to a woman.”
“I’m a lot more concerned about the crew than myself.”
“It’s not just her, sir.” Dippy gestured at the four men who had been in Evette’s boat and now stood upon the dock. “It’s four more men to fill the gap in our rowing ranks. We’ll have that many more hands to streamline our voyage.”
Zale could hardly argue with that, despite his reservations. He turned back around to face Evette. He reverted to a more congenial persona. “I should tell you, just to be upfront, that we’re an all-male crew.”
Evette kept her shoulders back, maintaining eye contact. “I’m accustomed to male crews. As with your guild, Captain, women aboard fishing vessels are few and far between. That’s just the way it is. I know how to handle it.”
“Not to be presumptuous,” Zale said, “but the sailors of our guild might be of a somewhat less refined class than your aquacultural charges. The seafaring merchant guild of Warvonia is filled with honest men, sure, but just as many sanctioned scallywags, privateers, and looters.”
“Captain…I’ve twisted many arms of quick-fingered gropers. I’ve kicked more balls than a provincial fieldblitz team. Aquafarmers might not be quite as refined as you think. With your reputation, I’m sure your crew is more professional than simple looters.”
Zale rubbed fervently at his chin whiskers. At least these are two short voyages, he considered. If the first one’s a disaster, we’ll just part ways before the second.
Finally, he held out his right hand and shook with Evette. “Welcome to the crew of the Queenie. Today is Whitesday. With any luck, we’ll set sail Flamsday morning. Preparations are underway now. Dippy here will give you the rundown about your share as coxswain and shares for your rowers, who when not rowing will slog alongside our other deckhands to do whatever is needed.”
“Thank you, Captain,” she replied. “We’ll be ready.”
She left them, returning to her fellow rowers with shouts of triumph.
“I hope to Eloh I don’t regret this,” Zale said to Dippy. “If this doesn’t go well, it’s on you.” He managed a smirk. “If it does go well, it’s on me.”
“Aye, Captain,” Dippy said. “I’m just glad that we’re crewed enough to be on our way.”
“On that note…very fortuitous how you found a man doubling as physicker and chaplain. Sublime work, Dippy.”
“Sir?” Dippy replied with a slight tilt of his head, eyes blinking.
“He found me earlier at the wharf,” Zale said. “The man named Fulgar.”
“A fascinating notion, Captain, for which I’d love to take credit…but, I must confess, I know of no such man.”
Zale frowned, now wondering how the man had come to know of their impending voyage.
“Curious case.”
And, in thought, he departed from the canals.
CHAPTER 4
ALL ABOARD
7/25/3203
“Who’s got a smooch-cake for ol’ Pop-Pop?!”
“We do!” sang three eager voices.
Zale’s granddaughters ran into his embrace and pecked his bristly cheeks with kisses. He shook hands with Dane, Haly’s husband, and walked into their home exchanging greetings. Baby Hazel reached out from Haly’s arms, and Zale gladly took her into his own.
“Squeakle-Imp!” he piped in his playful, higher-pitched voice.
Whenever possible, Zale made it a point to visit his grandchildren before setting sail. If things went well with their upcoming two voyages, fewer of his visits would be for the purpose of saying goodbye.
Tonight Zale and Lola were in for a treat: fresh pottage stew with boiled vegetables and roasted beef, followed by left over marzipan cake from Nova’s birthday. The broth’s warm, savory smell set Zale’s stomach to growling, a most welcome home-cooked meal before subjecting himself to Wigglebelly’s cooking aboard the Queenie.
“This smells delicious, Haly,” Lola said.
“Pop-Pop,” started little Nova timidly, “could you say the ‘Treasure of Mac’?”
Zale thought a moment. “The ‘Treasure of Mac,’ you say? You’ve got a prodigious memory there.” He took a seat, his granddaughters gathering round. “Now, girls, sailors hear a great many tales and stories over the years. This is one I’ve known most of my life, since I was just a lad, passed down from my parents.”
He cleared his throat.
“The Treasure of Mac is not very far;
Once you know where to look, then you’ll know where you are!
O dear Mac, if you’re here, thy great name is alive;
Thy back to the river, then ten paces five!
O most brilliant Mac, the treasure is nigh;
Your head must be spinning, from looking so high!
O Mac, you great rascal, thy foundation is rock;
It’s dark water below, and below must ye hop!
O wondrous Mac, if here faith do ye lack;
Then ne’er shall ye claim the great Treasure of Mac!”
The girls cheered as soon as he finished. “What is the Treasure of Mac, Pop-Pop?” asked Fawn, oldest of the girls.
“It’s just a fun old treasure hunting rhyme,” Zale replied. “I like to think that ol’ Mac, in the end, had enough faith to find the greatest treasure of all.”
“What’s the greatest treasure?” asked six-year-old Sage.
It seemed such a simple question, but even the best of treasure hunters would likely never know the answer. Whatever was the largest payout known, merchant sailors only dreamed of fetching an even higher number—a never-ending cycle. Still, Zale found himself imagining where the Grimstone might fit in the greater scheme of high-value cargoes.
“If I ever find out, I’ll let you know,” Zale said.
“Okay, I think everything’s ready,” Haly announced.
In short order they were gathered round a long, wooden table, breathing in the rising steam from bowls set before them.
“Bring on the eats!” cheered Fawn, a spoon already clutched in her hand.
“Wait,” said Haly. “First we should say a blessing. Sage, would you like to?”
Sage hesitated but finally answered, “Okay.” They bowed heads. “Thank you, Eloh, for this day. I hope I have a good day tomorrow, and I hope I like the food. Thank you for the stew. I like it, even though I didn’t a few minutes ago. And let Pop-Pop have a safe trip. Selah.”
“Selah,” everyone repeated.
“Glad you came around on the stew, Sage,” Zale said with a wry smile.
Haly sighed. “There was much drama involved earlier over the stew.”
Dane gestured toward Sage. “I told you you’d like it.” Sage mumbled something incoherent into her spoon.
“When do you have to leave, Pop-Pop?” Fawn asked.
“As soon as first light on Flamsday,” Zale answered, “if our fortunes hold out. That’s after staying overnight on the ship getting everything ready.”
“And then you won’t have to make quotas anymore, right?” Fawn’s face lit up with hope. “You’ll be home a lot more to come visit us!”
Zale gave her a doting smile. “I hope so, sweetie.” He looked over at Nova, who was slurping away at her stew, much of it landing on the table. “Careful there, Nova. Some of that stew might end up in your mouth.”
“Where are you sailing to this time, Pop-Pop?” Fawn asked.
“We’ve had a few prospects, actually,” Zale replied. “One’s a beautiful green stone from Korangar called verdantium. Another’s a special kind of space-rock for the university in Miskunn.”
“What’s the other one?”
Zale’s hand, holding a spoonful of stew, stopped halfway to his mouth. “How do you know there’s another one?”
“You said ‘a few’ prospects. Usually that means more than two, or you would’ve said ‘a couple.’” She bounced in her chair, pleased with herself.
“So happens there was another job someone approached me with. Something called the Grimstone. This man I met told me that it might somehow help the Light of the Land. I say two to one it doesn’t exist.”
“In co-op yesterday,” said Fawn, “one of my friends said the Light is fading. It sounds kind of scary. Our land needs the Light to survive. It’s holy light that the divine—Eloh, I think— gave our land when He used lightning to make Alpha Makutu.” She referred to the kingdom’s famous star-shaped plateau, upon which the king’s Metsada Palace rested.
“Just because you heard it,” Dane said, “doesn’t make it true.”
Fawn continued. “Some stories I’ve read talk about using powers of darkness to help the Light. Maybe the Grimstone is something like that.”
“I don’t really like you reading those stories,” Haly said. “They’ve got too much about the Shadow Age and sorcery and grimkins—not something you kids need to read.”
Dane stood from his chair. “I’m going to grab that marzipan cake.”
“Yum!” Fawn cheered. She turned back to Zale, looking him straight in the eyes. “Pop-Pop, if you could really do something to help the Light, would you?”
Dane returned with the marzipan cake. Zale’s mouth hung open as though frozen mid-breath, not because this was his favorite dessert. As the adults served cake to the children, Zale stared pensively into his bowl.
Lola’s arm was linked in Zale’s as they walked under the night-glow of the rings, navigating the maze of cobbled streets and alleys on their way home. Neither of them moved particularly fast, especially with their path going in a generally uphill direction. Zale didn’t mind. The humid air was warm and pleasant, a light breeze streaming through the alleyways. Soon his next voyage would begin, and he wanted to enjoy this walk with Lola before departing.
“That meal was zesty sustenance, wasn’t it, Dwoey?” said Zale. “Haly does whip up a mean batch of pottage.”
Lola returned a delightful smile. “That she does. Of course, she learned from the best.”
“You mean the café manager down the street, right?” He cackled, pushing playfully into Lola. She laughed, as she always did, at his goofiness. “Are you and she going to the theater while I’m gone?”
“I think we are. But those dancing men from Eidyn are just so hard to look at.” She jokingly fanned at her face.
“Oh, just throw a bucket of water on yourself.”
They conversed further about family, the destinations of Zale’s upcoming voyages, home improvement ideas, and things they might want to do once they had more time. They were just discussing how they might start a small garden, when another voice stopped them short.
“Lovely night for a stroll, Captain.” A pale-skinned man stepped out from a side-alley and into their path.
Zale squinted and took a step ahead of Lola. Already his hackles were up. He only wished he had his sword with him. His family had come to prefer that he not carry it when visiting the kids, which he’d begrudgingly obliged.
The man came closer, and the dim light from a streetlamp illuminated his face.
“Vidimir?”
Memory of a cold, purple fire ignited in Zale’s mind. This man had known too much about Zale’s family even back in the tavern, and here he was again, an encounter that Zale assumed to be more than coincidence.
“I’m glad you recognize me,” Vidimir said. “I understand your ship is nearly ready to depart.”
“I don’t really think my ship is any of your concern,” Zale said.
“No need to be defensive, Captain. I approach you merely as a man with much at stake.”
“Those can be the worst,” Zale replied. “What is it you want?”
“Merely to ask you a question. If you could really do something to save the Light, would you?”
Zale’s heart skipped. Lola gasped. It was the exact question Fawn had asked earlier.
Vidimir gave an insidious half-smirk. “Kids do say the darnedest things, don’t they?”
“You stay the hell away from my family!”
Vidimir laughed. “Don’t worry. I have better things to be concerned with than your family. It is, however, a fantastic question. It is, in fact, a question I’ve already placed before you. I do so hope, Captain, that when you set sail, it is the Grimstone you seek. It is a most urgent service to your kingdom.”
“Turns out everyone tends to think their need is most urgent. I’ll pursue what best suits me and my crew. Your particular curio is ethereal mythology. We could circumnavigate nations and wander islands for weeks and come up with nothing.”
“Did I not point you in the right direction, Captain? Rest assured you can trust my information. The Grimstone is out there, ripe for the taking.”
“I don’t trust you as far as I can piss.”
Vidimir adjusted his shirt collar. “Are you a gambling man, Captain?”
“I don’t gamble, Vidimir. I calculate. That’s why I’m the best.”
“Nor do I,” Vidimir said.
“I hedge my commissions most carefully. For every man who claims he’s the best, another stands eager to prove him wrong. It comes down to this: you will retrieve what I seek, or someone else will. And be assured that your kingdom will remember those who answered the call to service…and those who did not.”
“Is that some sort of threat?” Zale growled.
“It is simple reality. The choice is yours, Captain Murdoch.” Vidimir gave a curt nod. “Pleasant night to you both.”
He spun on his heels and walked into the shadows of the side-alley.
Moments later, when Zale peered into the side-alley’s length, the man was gone without a trace.
“Captain aboard!” cried Dippy upon the deck of the Queenie. As deckhands scurried about, he grabbed at the rope of a nearby bell to give it a hasty ringing. “I say, Captain aboard!”
Most of the crew turned in sudden realization.
“At attention, men!” bellowed Zale. Silence fell across the deck. “Officers, repooorrrt! Everyone else, as you were!”
Although not sailing until the next day, Zale was clothed in fine seafaring array. One of his best blue tunics covered a white shirt, V-necked over a field of chest hairs. A monocle rested within a small pocket of his tunic, secured to a button by a gold chain. Upon his shoulders rested a navy-blue captain’s coat with brass buttons down the flaps, its long tail hanging to the knees of his sandy-colored trousers. Below his knees were the turned-down tops of his brown cavalier boots. His best brown leather tricorn hat, complete with white, red, and blue feathers, covered his head, routing the breeze cleanly across the sides of his face, and his favorite saber was sheathed at his side.
He drew in a deep breath of the salty air, observing the friendly white clouds across a perfect sky. “Ah, we can’t cut the waves soon enough, Dippy. This wind is exactly where I want it.”
“Yes, sir. I quite agree,” Dippy replied.
Within moments Kasper “Beep” Gibbers, Yancy “Fump” Willigan, Rosh “Chim-Chum” Pureblood, and Evette Cask-more stood before Zale and Dippy.
Zale scanned the area and found the smooth-headed man he sought. “You too, Fulgar.”
Heroes of Time Legends: Murdoch's Choice Page 6