A determined smile, reminiscent of his mother, hovered on Martin's lips. "Of course I'll obey him, but one day I shall be in charge."
A great feeling of pride enveloped Luke. "I'm sure you will. Farewell, my son."
Rigging ropes hummed around broad-bellying sails as the Sayna skimmed the deeps like a great white swan, headed west out onto the main. Luke turned for a moment from the tiller and looked back astern. He saw the small figure standing on the pebbled strand alone, waving the sword in a warrior's salute. The vessel dipped, bow into a rolling trough, and when she rose on the next wavecrest, the shoreline was lost in an afternoon of snow and icy winter spume. Luke turned back to his crew, certain he had chosen fighters whom he could trust to be at his side through thick and thin. Vurg, Cardo, Dulam, Coll and the rest, they stood waiting his orders, clinging to the taffrails to stay upright on the heaving deck. Cardo was not looking too well. Luke shook his head. "Get below decks, all of you. Batten down everything and stay there. 'Tis goin' to get rough. I'll take tiller an' first watch. We have t'learn to be sailors now, seabeasts, so like all beginners we can expect to be sick me, too. There's nothin' to be ashamed of. We'll get used to stormy seas in a few days."
Cardo had definitely taken on an unhealthy pallor. "Permission to jump over the side an' drown myself, cap'n!"
Just looking at his friend made Luke feel queasy.
"I'll drown you myself if you start that cap'n business. My name's Luke an' that's what you'll call me. Permission denied. Now get below, all of you!"
The entire crew shouted back at him, "Aye aye, cap'n!"
Luke was glad they had not lost their sense of humor.
It was three days before they were out of the stormy latitudes. The evening of the fourth day saw calm seas with no trace of snow. Luke realized they must have dulled southwest instead of holding the northwest i nurse. A meeting was held in the captain's cabin, and I uke tolil the others what had happened. "'Twas my fault, re.ilK . I'm still only learning aboutbein' at sea. You ni.iv've noticed the weather's changed for the better well, that's because we've drifted south."
But Vurg would not hear of his friend taking the blame. "Oh, frogfeathers, mate, it's the fault of everybeast here, we've all taken our turn at the tiller. Bein' seasick or sleepy didn't help things. Little wonder we drifted off course. Ain't that right, pals?"
The crew agreed, though Coll had a question.
"Er, just what was our original course? Seems to me we've just been sailin' willy-nilly, eh, Vurg?"
"Well, I s'pose there's little else y'can do when you're searchin' the seas for that red ship."
Luke gestured at the empty shelves around the cabin. "What were we supposed t'do? There's not a chart or a map aboard the vessel. Most of these pirates sail by instinct. I've been thinkin', maybe 'tis best what we're doin', lettin' the winds an' currents carry us."
Cardo had regained his color, as had the rest of them. "Why do you say that, cap'n, er, sorry, Luke?"
"Well, look at it this way. Seascum hate the cold stormy seas as much as we do, so it stands to sense they'd sail to warmer waters. I've a feelin' the farther south we sail the more chance we have o' meetin' up with Vilu Daskar."
Dulam spoke up as he headed for the door. "Great idea. I'm with ye, Luke. But after three days sick I'm feelin' much better, 'cept that I'm famished. Let's break out some vittles an' get a decent feed inside us!"
Dulam's suggestion was welcomed wholeheartedly. The crew were much happier now they were in calmer climes with a plan of action worked out.
A full moon beamed down on the Sayna as she drifted south on calm seas. Luke let Denno, a fat jolly mouse, take the tiller.
"Let her sail easy, Denno, just keep your eyes open and check the tiller from swingin' wide in another direction. I can tell by the smoke comin' from our galley there's some serious cookin' goin' on. Better take a peek, eh?"
Denno shook his head, chuckling. "You'll probly get chased away. There's more cooks in that galley than y'could shake a stick at, an' that Cardo's the worst of all. Thinks 'e's cap'n o' the stewpot!"
Lantern light and steam came from the open galley window. Out on the darkened deck, Luke shook with suppressed laughter as he watched the antics of his crew. They bustled and bumped into one another, each trying to advise or outdo the other with tips on cooking expertise.
"Not too much o' that dried barley, Vurg, go easy."
"Oh, rubbish, my ole mum always put plenty o' barley in every thin' she cooked!"
"Aye, I thought yore mum's fruitcake tasted a bit funny."
"Well it didn't stop you scoffin' it, y'great lard bucket!"
"Lard bucket yoreself, mate. Hoi, Dulam, where are you goin' with the salt? Ship's stew needs lots of salt!"
"How d'you know? 'Tis the first time you've been on a ship. Put any more salt in that stew an' we'll drink the water barrels dry afore mornin'."
"Aye aye there, chop those carrots smaller, mate!"
"Gerrout, I like big cobs o' carrot!"
"So that means we've all got to 'ave great lumps o' carrot?"
"Huh, won't 'urt you. Hey, 'tis my turn to stir. Gimme that ladle."
"I'll give ye it on yore nose, see 'ow y'like that!"
A large cauldron of stew was carried into the big cabin, where Luke had set out beakers of ale and an oatcake by each place. Doing his utmost to keep a straight face, he tried sniffing appreciatively. "Mmm, that smells good. What is it, Cardo?"
A heated debate broke out over the cauldron's contents.
"I call it Cardo's Carrot Seastew!"
"Ho, do you now, well I calls it Vurg's Veggible Delight!"
"I did all the work, so 'tis goin' t'be called Coil's Combination Concoction!"
"No it ain't, it's Dulam's Delicious Shipstew!"
Luke banged the mess table with the serving ladle. "Enough! I won't have mutiny aboard my ship over a pot o' grub. I'll name the stew. Put it down here!"
They watched as Luke ladled a portion into his bowl. Blowing on a spoonful he sampled it gingerly, with his crew looking on anxiously. Bravely, Luke chewed at the stew, his face expressionless. He put down the spoon and took a deep draught of ale.
They all spoke the word at once. "Well?"
Luke picked something from between his teeth and looked at it quizzically before returning his verdict.
"I think it should be called crunchy barley, half-cooked carrot lump, far too salty 'otwater stew. So if you'll excuse me, I'll just stick to oatcake an' ale for tonight's meal, mates. Eat up, an' see how you lot like it!"
Luke wandered out on deck with his frugal meal. "I'll take the tiller for a while, mate. You go an' get somethin' to eat."
Denno immediately stopped gazing at the peaceful moonflaked waves and relinquished his watch. "Certainly smelled great when they carried it to the cabin, Luke. Thankee, mate. I'll enjoy some o' that stew."
Luke smiled wryly. "Oh aye, I'm sure you will!"
Soft pastel-hued skies heralded the dawn. A mouse named Cordle dozed at the tiller, a canteen of water held loosely in his paw. Coll came to relieve him, sipping from a beaker.
"Huh, fine one you are, sleepin' on watch. Good job Luke never caught ye or he'd 'ave whacked yore tail off!"
Cordle blinked sleepily and took a quick swig of water. "Leastways while I'm sleepin' I'm not drinkin'. I tell ye, Coll, I never drank so much water in all me life!"
"Aye, no more o' that blinkin' stew fer me, mate. You could've stood a spoon up in the salt that went into it! If we capture any Sea Rogues, I reckon we should feed it to 'em, that'd teach 'em a lesson." But Cordle was not listeninghe was staring eagerly out to sea. "What's up, Cordle?"
"Look, land! I'm sure of it. That's land of some sort dead ahead. Laaaaand hoooooooo!"
Instantly the ship came alive. The mousecrew tumbled from their bunks and staggered out on deck, rubbing sleep from their eyes as they followed the outstretched paw of Cordle.