The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock (6 page)

After several seconds of kissing, Vashnas pulled
away, but only a few inches. The taste of her mouth lingered on
Malock's lips, a taste he hoped he would never forget.

“What's the matter?” Malock muttered, stroking her
back. “There's no one watching. No one to judge.”

Vashnas didn't break eye contact with him. “It's not
that. It's just ... I'm not sure.”

Malock kissed her briefly. “Didn't we already talk
about this? I love you, Vash, and you know that. There's no need to
hesitate.”

Vashnas pushed herself a little away from him, but
she was still in his arms. “I know. It's just that we've spent a
lot of time doing this together and I'm wondering if maybe I'm
distracting you from your actual duties.”

“You're hardly a distraction, Vash,” said Malock,
once again looking into her eyes. “Do you regret that we can't
really tell the rest of the crew about our relationship?”

“No,” said Vashnas, shaking her head. “They already
know, anyway. They gossip about us behind our backs all the
time.”

“And?” said Malock. “If anyone gives you any trouble
about it, the Captain will punish that person severely.”

“That's not what I mean,” said Vashnas. “And you
don't have to refer to yourself in third person, you know.”

“Then what do you mean?” said Malock. “Just come out
and say it. I can handle it.”

Vashnas actually pushed herself entirely out of his
arms now and stood up.

“It's just this entire voyage has put a strain on
all of us,” said Vashnas. “There are times where I've wondered if
we should just go back.”

Malock stood up, pushing his chair back as he did
so. “Just go back? But we've just reached the southern seas. We
can't go back.”

“I know,” said Vashnas. “What I'm really trying to
say is ... well, I guess I'm just scared. Scared of what awaits us
further on.”

“Oh, I doubt there's anything we can't handle,” said
Malock. “Kano wouldn't have summoned me if she didn't think I could
make it. And with your firsthand knowledge of the southern seas,
I'd say we're going to be just fine.”

“Just because I know about the southern seas doesn't
make them any less dangerous,” said Vashnas. “And I don't know
everything
about them. Last time I was here, I took a pretty
straight line from the north to the south. I stopped for a rest
every now and then, but otherwise I didn't do much exploring.”

“We're taking the same route as you, so I don't
understand what your problem is,” said Malock. “I mean, when did
you do that? Five years ago, was it? I doubt the southern seas have
changed drastically in that time.”

“Maybe not,” said Vashnas. “But often, it's not the
major things that sink ships. It's the small things, like the tiny
holes in the hull that no one notices until the entire ship is
halfway underwater. It's the small things I'm afraid of.”

Malock pulled Vashnas into a hug again. “Don't
worry, Vash. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I
swear this on Kano's name.”

Vashnas looked at him in surprise. “That's a pretty
serious thing to swear by, Mal. You know what that means, don't
you?”

“Yes,” said Malock. “Which is why I did it. I love
you more than anyone else in the world, regardless of what any
narrow-minded fool thinks about our relationship, and I will defend
you no matter what.”

Vashnas smiled, which made her look even more
beautiful. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Malock returned the smile, but it disappeared when
he felt her grab his behind. He looked at her in surprise and saw
that she was smiling seductively.

“Now why don't we ... play a little?” said Vashnas.
“I'm in the mood now, if you know what I mean.”

“I would love to,” said Malock. “But unfortunately,
I must leave very soon because I have not yet finished showing
Kinker around the ship.”

“Aw,” said Vashnas. “Well, all right. But maybe
later you and I can play, when you don't have anything else to do,
of course.”

Malock smiled. “Of course.”

***

K
inker had been so busy teaching the other
fishermen about the inadequacy of their trawl that he hadn't
realized that an hour had passed until Malock came up behind him
and tapped him on the shoulder. Kinker turned to face the Captain,
who looked slightly bemused for some reason.

“I see you are getting along with your fellow
fishermen,” said Malock. “But what are you doing with the
trawl?”

Kinker looked down at his hands. He had been showing
the others how to make a codend (he didn't have the right materials
to make an entirely new trawl), but that had been difficult because
the ship's trawl had been designed without a codend in mind. So far
he had only managed to make a tiny codend, not big enough to catch
anything but the smallest of fish, and it didn't look very
good.

“He's 'improving' the trawl,” said Jenur, making air
quotes with her fingers.

“I tried to stop him, sir,” said Deddio, scratching
the back of his head. “But he insisted that the trawl needed a
codend right away if we were to catch anything.”

“Is that right?” said Malock, looking with more
interest at Kinker's work. “You know, we threw that trawl together
without knowing a thing about making trawls.”

Kinker glanced at the mangled mess of slimy wet
ropes in his hands and grimaced. “Yes, I can tell.”

“But I must ask you to leave it here,” said Malock.
“Our tour of the ship is not yet complete, after all. When it is,
then you can come back here and play with the trawl to your heart's
content.”

Kinker reluctantly dropped the trawl to his feet and
followed Malock across the stern back to the center of the ship. He
couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, however, at the fishing
crew, who were now lugging the trawl back into the sea. None of
them looked happy about it, making Kinker wonder if he had left a
bad first impression.

Considering I am going to be working with them
for the next several weeks or months or however long it will take
for us to reach World's End, that's not good,
Kinker thought.
At least they don't know about what I did on Destan. Then
they
really
wouldn't like me.

Malock led Kinker across the deck of the
Iron
Wind
, occasionally pointing out something or introducing him to
another member of the crew. Kinker tried his best to pay attention,
to learn as much as he could, but it was difficult because his mind
kept returning to that bundle of ropes and netting that they
called, with sincerity, a trawl.

When they reached the bow, Malock pointed at the
bowsprit and said, “That's the bowsprit, which I'm sure you already
know. Take a good look at it.”

Kinker walked as close to it as he could get. He at
first thought that the bowsprit was a simple one, a long wood pole
sticking out in the front of the ship, but the more he looked, the
more he noticed that it actually was in the shape of a woman. From
his current position it was impossible to see the woman's front,
but he could tell that she had long, cascading hair, holding her
arms above her head in a point.

“Our figurehead is a statue of Kano, naturally
enough,” said Malock, though he didn't sound very proud of it. “Or
at least, an artist's representation of Kano and it's a very
inaccurate one at that. It makes her look like a mermaid when I
know for a fact that she resembles a woman made of water. All I can
figure is that the artist must have never seen Kano before.”

Kinker was about to say that most people probably
hadn't seen Kano before when two loud, arguing voices floated on
the wind from the center of the ship.

“Watch where you're going,” one of the voices, which
sounded human, snapped.

“You first, sinker,” said another, colored with the
distinctive gurgle of an aquarian. “Besides, I was just cleaning
the deck, as I am supposed to. Are you lazing off again?”

“I was just heading below deck to grab some extra
rope,” said the human. “If anything, I think
you're
the lazy
one around here. Look at how slowly you're scrubbing the deck. It's
ridiculous. A human could do it faster.”

“Then why don't you do it?” said the aquarian.

Malock immediately wheeled around and made his way
back to the deck without saying anything. Kinker hurried after him,
trying to keep up with the younger man's long, quick strides.

The source of the commotion soon became obvious. Two
sailors were arguing with each other, one human and one aquarian,
as Kinker had suspected. The human was a burly man with pale skin,
his fists as big as rocks, who wore only a jacket without a shirt.
The aquarian had an octopus-like head and was holding a scrubber in
his hand, although it took Kinker a moment to realize that the
aquarian was holding the scrubber using the suction cups on its
fingers and palm without actually gripping it like a human
would.

Both of the sailors looked close to blows. The human
sailor was red in the face and was holding his fists up in a way
that suggested he knew how to use them, while the aquarian sailor
held his scrubber like a knife. A handful of other sailors had
stopped to watch the argument, but immediately went back to work as
soon as Malock approached.

Kinker didn't blame them. Malock walked with heavy
feet, his every step echoing loudly off the floorboards of the
deck. He stood straight and tall and somehow seemed larger than he
was. He gave off such an aura of anger and authority that Kinker
felt compelled to trail a few feet behind him, rather than walk
beside him, even though he knew that the Captain was not angry with
him.

The two arguing sailors either didn't see their
Captain approaching or didn't care. The human was now cussing so
hard that even Kinker, who was not above swearing himself, felt
embarrassed. The aquarian kept switching between a language he
didn't understand (perhaps the aquarian tongue) and Divina, the
language of the gods used by humans and aquarians to communicate.
Nonetheless, the aquarian's meaning was clear even to Kinker.

Malock didn't wait for them to stop. He just walked
up between them, saying, “All right, break it up, break it up you
two,” and shoved them apart. He almost slipped, however, because
the deck beneath his feet was wet from the aquarian's scrubbing,
but he caught himself quickly and looked at the two sailors with
anger.

“All right,” said Malock, folding his arms. “What
happened?”

“This ...” the aquarian seemed to struggle to come
up with a less-than-nasty word to describe his fellow sailor. “This
human
almost tripped over me while I was scrubbing the deck.
I'm almost certain he did it on purpose.”

“Captain, that's a damned lie from the mouth of a
damned fish,” said the human, folding his arms across his chest.
“He tried to trip me up. I was minding my own business, making my
way to the hold, when he got in my way and tripped me. Fell flat on
my face and almost broke my nose.”

“I didn't do that,” said the aquarian. “As I said,
you should have seen where you were walking, you ...” he glanced at
Malock as he spoke, “... uh, you
human
.”

He said that as if that was the worst insult he
could think of, although Kinker knew there were worse.

“All I see is an aquarian playing the victim card,”
said the human sailor. “For the one hundredth time. Sometimes I
wonder if you aquarians ever take responsibility for your
actions.”

The aquarian made an odd shrill sound that Kinker
realized was a laugh. “How rich. The
human
is asking the
aquarian
to take responsibility for his actions. The irony
is so thick that I'm surprised you can still see me.”

Before the human could respond, Malock held up a
hand and said, “Enough arguing. I don't know or care who started
it. There shall be no fighting among the crew on this ship while I
am Captain. Banika?”

Almost as if by magic, Banika appeared at Malock's
side. Her sudden appearance made Kinker jumped. She didn't comment
on that. Instead, she stood at attention as usual, her arms at her
sides and her face blank.

“I want you to take these two below deck and lash
them,” said Malock. “Ten times each. That should be enough to teach
them not to fight, but not enough to cripple them or make them
unable to work.”

The two sailors' expressions changed from anger to
fear in one instant.

“Sir, Captain, please,” said the human, putting his
hands together as if in prayer. “I just realized that I actually
did trip over him. It was an honest mistake on my part and I don't
care if he tried to do it. Honest.”

“No, no, I'm the one who should be apologizing
here,” said the aquarian, his words becoming harder to understand
through the fear clouding his accent. “I really should have paid
more attention to where I was scrubbing. I've learned my
lesson.”

Malock shook his head. “As Captain, I have every
right to discipline you for your failure to get along. Follow
Banika down into the hold. Now.”

Banika was already on her way to the hatch and the
two sailors followed her without question. It was clear that they
didn't want to, but they evidently did not dare question their
Captain's orders.

Malock watched them disappear under the hatch and
then he turned to Kinker and said, “Kinker, I'm sorry you had to
see that. Occasionally fights break out and I have to break them up
and punish the two fighters.”

“But they weren't even exchanging blows,” said
Kinker. “Ten lashes each seems like a harsh punishment to me.”

“I see you don't understand, despite your age,” said
Malock. “Very well. I suppose, since you've never been the captain
of a ship before, you don't understand the necessity of swift and
painful punishment.”