“Go ahead,” the commander replied.
“Why are we so far out?”
“There’s a big current, called the Stream, that hooks around Flora and heads up the coast. It’s like a river in the ocean. If we stayed in it, we’d take twice as long to go south; it was worth sailing out to the east to avoid it. When we reach the Isles we’ll have to sail back into it since the mer’s last reported position was on the western edge of the Isles where the Stream passes between Flora and the Isles.”
“I think I saw it,” Herzer said. “The water was different looking.”
“Probably where the school was,” the commander offered. “The migrating fish on the coast tend to follow the edge of the Stream. Plankton get caught in the eddies, there’s more growth potential in the interface of different temperature waters, and lines of seaweed build up there and provide shelter.”
“How much longer to get to the Isles, sir?” Jerry asked.
“Well, if we don’t have to get off course to launch dragons all the time, about another two days,” the commander said with a grin. He looked up at the sky where high clouds had started to cross the sun and frowned. “That’s assuming the weather holds and we don’t have to heave to.”
Herzer slumped into the chair in the wardroom and dragged his helmet off, rubbing at his sweaty head. He’d thought about getting a shower but he was just too bone weary at the moment.
The door opened up and a steward stuck his head through. It was a new one, a tall, lanky fellow who looked both young and old. Herzer was sure he wouldn’t be able to place his age in the right century.
“Get you anything, sir?” the steward asked.
“God, would you?” Herzer grinned. “I thought sword work was hard but riding those damned things is harder than it looks. Water? Maybe some tea?”
“Coming right up,” the steward said. “Maybe a bite to eat? There’s some cold pork and some ship’s crackers I can get my hands on.”
“That’d be great,” Herzer said, leaning back as the steward left.
The man was back in no time and true to his word he brought both water and herbal tea as well as a platter with meat and crackers.
“Thanks,” Herzer said, taking a long pull of the slightly metallic-tasting water and then a bite of cracker. “Join me?”
“Not done, sir,” the steward said, but then picked up one of the crackers and took a bite. “Mostly.”
Herzer chuckled and took another swig of water.
“You’re new.”
“The other guy busted his ankle on a ladder, sir.” The steward frowned. “I’m Seaman Annibale.”
“Got a first name, Seaman Annibale?” Herzer asked.
“Joel, sir.”
“Ever flown on a dragon?”
“No, sir,” Joel answered. “I used to be a sailor before the Fall. And after, but as a fisherman then.”
“So what the hell are you doing as a steward?” Herzer frowned.
“You know, sir, everyone asks me that,” Joel grinned. “I suppose I ought to go find the idiot that did it and thank him one dark night.” He paused for a moment and then shrugged. “You’re with the general’s party, right, sir?”
“Yeah,” Herzer replied and then stuck out his hand. “Herzer Herrick.”
“Really?” Joel said, smiling. “The Herzer Herrick?”
“Oh, gods,” Herzer groaned.
“I mean, I’ve been reading this book…”
“Oh, gods…” Herzer groaned again. “Not you, too?”
“I mean, the guy’s not a particularly good writer…”
“So I’ve heard,” Herzer replied. “And if I ever track him down…”
“Did you really kill fifteen guys?” Joel asked, sitting down.
“Not there,” Herzer said then grimaced. “Look, the book was way overblown, okay? I just did my job.”
“But that’s where you got the hook, right?” Joel asked.
“Yes, that’s where I got the hook. But it was six riders, okay? Not fifteen. And Bast got most of them. And, yeah, we were outnumbered, but the Changed didn’t cover the valley ‘like a rippling wave.’ There were… a few hundred. Look, you ever been in a fight, I mean, where people are trying to kill you?”
“Yeah,” Joel answered, soberly. “And I’ve seen a few dead bodies in my time.”
“Ever had a friend killed before your eyes?” Herzer asked, not waiting for a reply. “Look, it’s just butchery, okay? It happens to be butchery I’m good at. I don’t know what that says about me except… I’m good at staying alive. A lot of people that day, and other days, that were just as good as me bought the farm. Sometimes it just seems like luck. But if you’ve been there, you know that.”
“Yeah, I guess I do,” Joel said, picking up the mug. “I’ve got to circulate, sir. But thanks for talking to me. You cleared up a lot.”
“You’re welcome,” Herzer said, then grinned. “And if you ever find the bastard that wrote that book…”
“I’ll be sure to send you his address.” Joel grinned.
There was no chance of dragons launching the next day, as the ship was tossed by the winds in the morning. A bank of clouds was to the north and the crew scrambled aloft to reef the sails. For the next two days the ship was tossed by howling winds and blinding rain as the second front in as many weeks hammered them unmercifully. This one was, if anything, colder and stronger. And while the winds were fair to send them to their destination, on the second day the captain had the ship heave to, sailing into the teeth of the gale. Their destination had been the death of countless mariners over the ages and he was not about to go sailing down on it, unable to get a fix on their position and at the front of a gale.
By the third day the winds had started to abate and the rain had stopped. The captain had the ship put on the starboard tack and sailed to the west, groping forward for a glimpse of Flora or anything else to get a fix on their position. Joanna volunteered to go aloft and try to spot land. She wasn’t able to land in the tossing waves but the recovery area had been reinforced and redesigned so that she was able to pull herself out with minimal effort.
“Flora’s over to the west,” she said, after she had shaken off. “There’s an inlet, but there’s inlets all up and down the coast. That doesn’t tell us anything. There are some islands to the southeast; we’re about sixty klicks from them. Nothing due east at all as far as I can see. Oh, and there’s clear sky well down below the horizon northwest. I think we’ll be clear of the clouds, or at least the cover will be broken, by evening.”
The skipper and Commander Mbeki consulted their charts and came to the conclusion that they were too close to the Isles for comfort without better conditions or a clear sky to get a navigation fix. They altered course towards Flora, which of the two was the lesser danger, and headed into the Stream.
By evening, as Joanna had predicted, the skies were clearing and the wind and waves had abated. The latter were choppier, but far smaller and the ship rode over them with a graceful dip and yaw that was easy enough to compensate for.
The next morning dawned clear but the winds were increasing and the area around the ship was dotted with whitecaps. The skipper had managed to get a star reading the night before so the ship was now under reefed sails, scudding southward over the tossing sea. When Herzer came on deck after breakfast he groaned, sure that the skipper would want dragons up in this mess.
“We can launch, sir,” Jerry was saying as Herzer reached the quarterdeck. The wind, hard and cold from the north, blew his words away so that he practically had to shout. “But I’m not sure about recovery. And I’m not sure we can read the water the way you would like. We can see shoals, and we can signal them, but we can’t really gauge the depth.”