Merrain's rowers backed water immediately; Locke watched as the gig made sternway, aligned itself with the gate and then sped back out of the little bay at high speed. Chains rattled once again and water surged as the gates drew closed. Locke glanced up and saw that teams of men were turning huge capstans, one on either side of the bay doors.
"Welcome," said the man who'd helped them out of the boat. "Welcome to the most foolish damn venture I ever hear of, much less got pressed into. Can't imagine whose wife you must" ve fucked to get assigned to this here suicide mission, sirs."
The man could have been anywhere between fifty and sixty; he had a chest like a tree stump and a belly that hung over his belt as though he was trying to smuggle a sack of grain beneath his tunic. Yet his arms and neck were almost scrawny in their wiriness, seamed with jutting veins and the scars of hard living. He had a round face, a woolish white beard and a greasy streak of white hair that fell straight off the back of his head like a waterfall. His dark eyes were nestled in pockets of wrinkles under permanent furrows.
"That might" ve been a pleasant diversion," said Jean, "if we" d known we were going to end up here anyway. Who might you be?"
"Name's Caldris," said the old man, "Ship" s master without a ship. You two must be Masters de Ferra and Kosta." "Must be," said Locke.
"Let me show you around," said Caldris. "Ain't much to see now, but you'll be seeing a lot of it."
He led the way up a set of rickety stairs at the rear of the dock, which opened onto a stone plaza that rose four or five feet above the water. The entire artificial bay, Locke saw, was a square roughly one hundred yards on a side. Walls enclosed it on three sides, and at the rear rose the steep glass hillside of the island. There were a number of structures built on platforms sticking out from that hillside: storage sheds, armouries and the like, he presumed.
The gleaming expanse of water beside the plaza, now sealed off from the harbour once again by the wooden gates, was large enough to float several ships of war, and Locke was surprised to see that there was only one craft tied up. A one-masted dinghy, barely fourteen feet long, rocked gently at the plaza's side. "Quite a bay for such a small boat," he said.
"Eh? Well, the ignorant need room in which to risk their lives without bothering anybody else for a while," said Caldris. "This here's our own private pissing-pond. Never you mind the soldiers on the walls; they'll ignore us. Unless we drown. Then they'll probably laugh." "Just what is it," said Locke, "that you think we're doing here, Caldris?"
"I" ve got a month or so in which to turn two ignorant straight-legged fumblethumb landlubbers into something resembling phoney sea-officers. All gods as my witness, sirs, I suspect this is all gonna end in screaming and drowning."
"I might have taken offence at that if I didn't know that every name you just called us was true," said Locke. "We told Stragos we didn't know the first damn thing about sailing." "The Protector seems mighty set on having you out to sea regardless." "How long have you been in his navy?" asked Jean.
"Been at sea forty-five years, maybe. In the Verrari navy even before there was Archons; been in the Thousand-Day War, the old wars against Jerem, the war against the Ghostwinds Armada… seen a lot of shit, gentlemen. Thought I had it sewn up — been master on Archon's vessels for twenty years. Good pay. Even got a house coming, or so I thought. Before this shit. No offence." "None taken," said Locke. "This some sort of punishment detail?"
"Oh, it's punishment, Kosta. It's punishment all right. Just weren't no crime done to earn it. Archon sort of volunteered me. Fuck me, but that's what all my loyalty bought. That and a taste of the Archon's wine, so I can't just quit or run away on you. Poisoned wine. The waiting sort of poison. I take you to sea, outlive all this nonsense, I get the antidote. Maybe my house, if I'm lucky." "The Archon gave you poisoned wine?" said Locke.
"Didn't know it was poisoned, obviously. What was I supposed to do," Caldris spat, "not fuckin" drink it?"
"Of course not," said Locke. "We're passengers in the same boat, friend. Except it was cider with us. We had a hell of a thirst." "Oh, really?" Caldris gaped. "Ha! Fuck me raw! Here I thought I was the biggest damn fool on the Sea of Brass. Here I thought I was the damnedest halfwit of a blind, uselsss… old… ah…"
He soon noticed the glare Locke and Jean were giving him in unison, and he coughed loudly. "Which is to say, sirs, that misery does love company, and I can see that we're all going to be real enthusiastic about this here do-or-die mission."
"Right. So, ah, tell us," said Jean. "Exactly how are we going to get on with this?"
"Well, first I reckon we talk, second I reckon we sail. I got just a few things to say before we tempt the gods, so open your ears. First, it takes five years or so to make a landsman into a halfway decent sailor. Ten to fifteen to make a halfway decent sea-officer. So fuckin" attend this: I ain't making no halfway decent sea-officers of you. I'm making shams. I'm making it so you're not embarrassed to talk rope and canvas around real sailors, and that's about it. Maybe, just maybe, that's what I can do to you in a month. So you can pretend to give orders while taking "em from me. Taking "em good.""
"Fair enough," said Locke. "The more you handle, the more comfortable we'll be, honest."
"I just don't want you to decide you're heroes who" ve learned the full business, so's you start changing sails and trim and courses without my leave. Do that and we're all gonna die, fast as a one-copper fuck in a one-whore cathouse. I hope that's clear."
"Not to get ahead of ourselves," said Jean, "but where the hell is this ship on which we would never, ever dare do anything like that?"
"It's around," said Caldris. "Getting a bit of finishing in another bay, just to help it hold together. For the time being, that there's the only vessel you're fit to board." He pointed at the dinghy. "That's what I'll learn you on." "What does that little thing have to do with a real ship?" Locke said.
"That little thing is what I learned on, Kosta. That little thing is where any real sea-officer starts. That's how you cop to the basics — hull, wind and water. Know "em on a boat and you can think it out on a ship. So, off with your coats and vests and fancy shit. Leave anything you mind getting wet as I'm making no promises. Boots as well. You'll do this barefoot."
Once Locke and Jean had stripped down to their tunics and breeches, Caldris led them over to a large covered basket that sat on the stones near the docked dinghy. He undid the cover, reached in and removed a live kitten. "Hello, you monstrous little necessity." "Mrrrrwwwwww," said the monstrous little necessity.
"Kosta." Caldris shoved the squirming kitten into Locke's arms. "Look after her for a few minutes."
"Urn… why do you keep a kitten in that basket?" The kitten, dissatisfied with Locke's arms, decided to wrap her paws around his neck and experiment on it with her claws.
"When you go to sea, there's two necessities, for luck. First, you're courting an awful fate if you take a ship to sea without at least one woman officer. It's the law of the Lord of the Grasping Waters. His mandate. He's got a fixation for the daughters of the land; he'll smash any ship that puts to sea without at least one aboard. Plus, it's plain common sense. They" re good officers. Decent plain sailors, but finer officers than you or me. Just the way the gods made "em.
"Second, it's powerful bad luck to put out without cats on board. Not only as they kill the rats, but as they're the proudest creatures anywhere, wet or dry. Iono admires the little fuckers. Got a ship with women and cats aboard, you'll have the finest luck you can hope for. Now, our little boat's so small I reckon we're fine without no woman. Fishers and harbour boats go out all the time, no worries. But with the pair of you aboard, I'll be damned if I'm not bringing a cat. A little one suits a little vessel."