Devoted to The Tide

CHAPTER THREE

PERSEUS

Seeing the Gallient up close was something every young lad across the Motherlands wanted to witness before they died. And now that I was standing on it, I was starting to see why my father took such interest in this career.

The Gallient was the largest ship in the Motherlands and the most powerful. Ranging from two hundred and sixty to three hundred feet long, weighing at about ninety tons. The Gallient was a magnificent ship, built in Sickadol wood, a wood type native to Vasgatan. I resented my father for leaving us to join this crew, but it didn't stop me from allowing my curiosity to get the best of me. The endless amount of research I dove into as a kid has finally paid off.

I observed the beauty that was presented before me as I followed the large group of men on board. The sails flew high in the wind, and their flapping was louder than I had imagined. I peered over the other side of the ship, looking down at the water and gazing out to the horizon. There were at least fifty more ships decorated with the same sails but weren’t nearly as large as the Gallient. This fleet was magnificent. Something about seeing the one thing that everybody talks about in songs and tales up close in person, tends to heal a man. On top of hearing dangerous things about the Captain… who turns out to be a woman. A lass for a sailor wasn’t unheard of but a Captain? I still struggled wrapping my mind around it. But just looking at her, it was clear that she didn’t have to do much to demand respect. She was tough. And I could tell she had many more tales to share.

After everybody gathered on the main deck, it turned out I wasn’t the only one confused on what to do next. Everyone looked as hopeless as I did. But my bastard cousin of course steps up to command attention once again.

“Oi! Listen up! Everyone split up into three groups of twenty men!” I felt a painful shiver of dread on my spine and a blow to my ego as I listened to instruction from this fucker. “Group one, you all will go with Jarvin for defense training, Group two, go with Tammlin for sailors education…” Caspian glanced over at me, peering right into my eyes with the most arrogant smirk I’ve ever seen. “Group three. Bottom deck. We need hands on cleaning and maintenance.” I knew it. Of course he was going to make my life as miserable as possible. “You all will switch out training shifts every week. So get comfortable gentlemen. Because we are on our way to Meh Thaylor of Zadavi. And that's going to be a long trip.”

…

If I had to scrub one more sail, I was going to lose my mind. Eight hours I’ve been at this. Hand scrubbing large sails in a large tub of water. For as long as I’ve been down on the lower deck with nineteen other sad saps for men, you’d think I’d forget that we’ve been setting sail over Coutouli Crossing for the last eight hours. But the vigorous swaying of the ship made it hard to forget. You can only imagine how relieved I was when one of the veteran mates came to retrieve us for supper. I threw the sail down into the tub and stood to my feet, my back and knees cracking in several places. Gods be good.

The dining hall wasn’t much of a hall but more of a cramped cafeteria. It honestly didn't feel any different than if I were in a tavern back in Irongarde. I carefully shoveled spoonfuls of… whatever this soup concoction was, savoring every bite. I remember one of the mates mentioning how this was the most strict rationing they've ever done. Which was surprising to hear in all honesty. For being a powerful fleet, you’d think they’d have enough rationing for long excursions such as this.

The atmosphere here was as lively as I imagined though. Men laughed and joked and drank to their heart’s content. Music played from a man on a lute and another on a hand drum. Anything to keep morale up I suppose. But I guess the music and the laughter didn't matter much given that the captain herself looked miserable. She sat at the head of the room, Caspian right beside her. She fidgeted with her cup of what I was assuming was ale, and stared off at the wall, as if she wasn’t present in the moment in the slightest. So many things I wanted to say to her. So many questions I had for her, knowing well that she had answers for. But catching her alone was mission impossible. Given that Caspian followed her around like a lost pup. I didn't realize I had been staring at her until she found my gaze and held contact for longer than comfort. Looking away was like a reflex. She had that power. Intimidation was her talent.

Charlie removes her legs that she had propped up on the table in front of her and smacks her cup on the table, catching everybody’s attention. She stands to her feet, the chair scraping behind her. “I’d like to make a toast.” She begins, raising her cup in front of her. “This is the first voyage this fleet has taken since my First Mate, Vladimir Thorn, had sadly left us. He was a great man and a wonderful mate. He watches over us from the heavens with the Gods. This mission is in honor of him.” “Hear, hear!” The crowd erupted. I raised my cup myself in respect, feeling a sense of pride that everyone felt so highly of my father. However, it made me feel a sort of way that everyone knew him better than I did. I took a swig from my cup, keeping my thoughts to myself. One of the veteran lads turned to me, his expression suspiciously eager. “Oi. Aren’t you Vlad’s boy?” He asks, his voice harsh and hoarse. He was an older man with a giant scar across his face. A few teeth missing it seemed as well. “I am.” I responded. He chuckles to himself. “Didn’t know Vlad had any kiddies.” “He and I weren’t close.” I kept my responses short and vague. If Charlie thinks it’s insensitive for me to be here, I can only imagine what everyone else thinks. “I heard the captain call him ‘father’ from time to time. Guess he left his dud son for a daughter who knew how to use her head.” I ignored his insulting comment, looking down at my bowl and stirring the soup with my spoon. ”If Vlad was your old man, wouldn’t that make First Mate Caspian your cousin then?” He asks, still obviously trying to get a rise out of me. Or he just simply doesn’t know what the hell comes out of his mouth. “Yes.” I responded, my voice softer and dismissive. The man lets out a hardy laugh. “Ain’t that something to tickle ya funny bone! Ha! If I were you, I’d be embarrassed to carry the name ‘Thorn’!” A cup slammed down in front of us, catching both of our attentions. “Aye. He should be. Because the name is the only damn thing that got him on this ship in the first place. Unlike you. You’re Grenn Hiltcher right?” Charlie says. I hadn’t noticed her approach and now she stood right there beside us. “…Aye…” He responds. “Ah, I heard about ye Hiltchers. Nothing but a family of thieves and rapers. I think I’m more embarrassed than lad here for having such an insignificant swine on my crew. But alas, here we are. Names don’t matter here. Nor blood. You all bleed the same to me. Shall we test it out anyway? See if you bleed a different color than him?” Grenn looked down at his bowl, taking back every word he wanted to speak. No more words were exchanged before Charlie then walked away, disappearing into the captain's quarters. I glanced up from my bowl to look at the humiliation on Grenn’s face, biting back a smile.

At the end of dinner, men began to vacate to their cots below deck. But I couldn’t stop myself from making a detour to the captains quarters to finally catch Charlie alone. I stopped in front of the door, hearing muffled talking on the other side. But that didn't stop me from giving a soft knock before peering inside.