Seafaring
Copyright © [2021] [Michael Harper]
All rights reserved. No portion of this book, story, or concept may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions, contact the author directly.
The characters in this book are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Cold water from the sea sprayed the decks. The waves were tossing the ship into ungodly directions. Even the experienced deckhands and crew found themselves praying to the Old and New Gods. A few silently prayed to ones they had made up, to be sure.
Death to every man was common to them as breathing. What troubled the men was the manner of their death. Slow, burbling drowning was not at the top of bard songs. Nor would they earn enough at the bottom of the sea, as they became one with the detritus where the sunlight never reached.
It has been three weeks since any on-board last seen a star or clear sky. All they had were the miserable, dreary, unrelenting storms. Rain fell in sheets sideways most times. They lost track of time and didn’t know whether it was day or night. Knee high water sloshed their cabins. Feet and hands wrinkled from the salty water. Screams under the dark and serious clouds went unheard. The boat sailed over watery fists, maybe to bruise everyone and remind them how hopeless everything was. The wood planks creaked and moaned as the wind buffeted them, making the whole structure lurch. There was no steady tempo from the violent sprays. Waves rolled with the essence of an enraged sea. Endless crashing shelves made unceasing, and unyielding, sounds to drive them all mad.
Sailors stopped bailing the ship to keep the weight light. It was fruitless. The drenching tumult whipped without care of a person’s station. Three men died from the perfect storms. Onslaughts of black waters and howling winds snatched the poor souls over board, before men standing next to them noticed.
The crew, their clothes clinging to them like old rags, worked with bloodshot eyes as they fought the brutal weather to hold the ship mast and sail from breaking. Sheer terror overcame the seafarers save for the Black Ice King’s slayer. The only person not under the smothering cowl of fear was Lady Zheng Yi Sao. She had stared into the icy eyes of death’s avatar--its black heart held as much sway then as the dark sea around her now.
Everything moved with cool moisture. Hands were sore from gripping frayed ropes and hauling buckets laden with water. Stomachs churned as the rain thundered against the roof and hull as the captain fought the wheel. He tried to keep on course with desperation. Zheng stood near him. Her keen balance and mental endurance made her seem inhuman to the crew. Historically, it’s been the Isles and other way-finders who sailed the seas beyond the pirates and smugglers. To the Northern crew, this was a first.
To sail beyond the maps. The muscles snapping and fluttering as they lashed the riggings. As the first mate grappled, the coils of rope near the steps, his eyes caught Lady Zheng’s for a fleeting moment.
It took bribes, favors, and handshakes for Order of Archmaesters, and other learned men across the world, to relinquish the scrolls and tomes of the known world to her. None succeeded in a westward journey through the vast ocean. Either crews mutinied for fear of a flat world, or provisions emptied, leaving them prone to disease or death.
Under the break of another mountainous wave, Zheng thought she heard something. Not of the ship nor crew. A week before this churning monsoon came upon them, she had them use knotted ropes to check the depths. There was not enough rope. The depths below remain as unknown as the storm above. They passed the last signs of human civilization a long time ago. Resupply and shore time was now impossible. They mixed all the alcohol on board as their fresh water stores grew slimy. Their commissary stores were running low.
Another sound. Scraping the ridge below the waves.
The same noise came again. This time clearer than the maelstrom. The soggy crew froze in place. Staring. Waiting. Watching. Listening under the winds and rain.
Zheng made sure her sword Durendalashi was clear of its sheath.
A large wave crashed the deck and washed away the previous layer of seawater.
In the thundering wails, two sailors retreated from shadows near the keel. Zheng held her arm up to block the water from her eyes, so she could see into the murky dark.
There was something there. It felt wrong. Unnatural. Yet perfect for the sea. Aquatic in essence.
Three more crew backed away from the unknown thing. The sway of the ship didn’t bother the newcomer’s balance in the slightest. It stood more like a snake than man. The eyes were more spaced out on its face than a human, but they were full of intelligence.
“Who are you?” Zheng shouted above the winds in common tongue. The figure cocked its head as if assessing. Zheng stepped forward. She held one hand on the rail and the other on Durendalashi. She tried another tongue and asked again, “Who are you?” A loud bump below deck seemed to break the mysterious creature’s trance. Its eyes changed color from obsidian glass to a deep azure. It’s hair rippled with the wind as it rose up, much as a snake readying to defend. It’s green webbed hands flexed with talons. Along its wrist was a hooked digit.
The deck buckled under its weight as it grew tenfold in size, a Harryhausen vision amid the sails. A torrent ran across the deck.
“Who are you?” Zheng shouted louder. She gripped her sword against the uninvited guest, who may have sinister purposes. Men scurried away as the thing grew in stature. Zheng came to the deck. The creature cast its gaze around, meeting the eyes of several crewmen, ending on Zheng. It nodded, low and resolved.
The wind picked up and started howling. Zheng looked to the sky, and her knuckles whitened on Durendalashi, unencased. She didn’t want to provoke the unknown beast, but she was determined to defend her ship.
With a thrumming sound from its chest, the clouds above rotated, forming a withering disk in the sky. Forks of lightning struck the sea around them.
Zheng and the crew quickly assessed the dire situation. The Captain had released the wheel and gawked from the top of the stairs.
“Captain!” Zheng yelled off her shoulder. He glanced down from the looming doom to her. “I need you at the helm!” The captain looked doubtful. “Are you afraid to get wet, Captain?” she chided him. The captain wrestled the wheel as the water tilted the boat. The creature almost matched the capstan in height. It bent at the waist as a dragon to a rider. Its eyes the size of barrels peered at Zheng. It sniffed at her. She was normally fearless in the face of death. She doesn’t even flinch when a thunderclap happens. The boat swayed back and forth from the wave surges. The creature before them didn’t seem to acknowledge the boat’s motion.
Zheng made her way over the slick deck. Her eyes embedded into the dark black eyes of her new enemy. Brine and slime knotted the scaly, bumpy skinned creature. Its hairless body had a layer of fat on its core. A long tail curled down its backside. Gills slanted along its stout throat with a thin membrane covering it above the surface. As she made her way closer, there was a sulfur stench like rotting eggs. She noticed fins coming out of its upper back.
Zheng held no doubt the beast saw her clear in the torrential weather. It evaluated her as nothing more than a mountain would be a mosquito. “What is your purpose?” she repeated. She tried in several of her homeland’s tongues, but none ringed in the behemoth’s ears.
Above the ship convoy, the storm disk made way for the storm’s eye. Blinding yellow, warmth of sunshine illuminated the waters and boats. Zheng’s hair was moppy from the torrential rain. The crew held a subdued cheer at the fresh sun. In these moments, the titanic creature was easier to see. It was as if lethality was incarnate. Teeth, fingertips, and bone spurs were sharper than glass shards, and far larger. It would take the work of a full-grown dragon to bring this thing down. Even then, it would be a tough battle to the death. Zheng swallowed as she noted the sandpapered scales, overlapped in such a manner to speed through water.
“We mean no harm. We seek new lands.” Zheng checked Durendalashi’s comforting presence in her grip. She spotted several crew with a net with stones readying to trap the being. She shook her head at the crew. It would be futile and possibly enrage this sea creature. Its head rolled back as if basking in the warm sun like a lizard. As it lowered its gaze to Zheng, she blinked, and it was gone. None on the ship saw it jump ship. Nor was there a splash. Several men ran to the rails to peer over. They saw only the white froth of the briny watery splashing the keel.
Zheng took stock for a moment and turned to the captain. As her mouth opened to speak, the ominous clouds returned with a vengeance. This time, Zheng noted the winds had shifted. The captain fought the wheel and lost to the force of nature. He yelled something, but Zheng could not hear him within the discordant sounds rising in volume. The rain came sideways as if swatted by long-swords of the gods.
Her eyes narrowed and brows furrowed as the ship took a new direction.
