Didn’t dare go online yesterday. Needed to figure out this boat and its crew. We left the island on that rowboat yesterday, but at least this time Stavlan came with us. He came aboard the schooner and held a short meeting with its captain, a small, chunky man called Jaeran. I can only imagine they were finalising whatever plans had been made.
Stavlan gave us a few words of encouragement before he left. But they were weak and empty words. It sounded like he was glad to see the back of us.
Jaeran introduced us to his crew. There are six in total, including Jaeran; but I don’t think these guys are part of the Cadavat. At least they don’t behave like it. Judging by the way they curse and joke so crudely they couldn’t give a hang for Lession or the island. Just as long as they didn’t have to go near it, I guess. I suspect they’re hired hands. Just like Captain.
I haven’t dreamed about Lession since we left the island.
Jaeran was so open I felt like asking him if he knew of Captain and Solera. Caution held my tongue. Okay, so they’re a pleasant crew. But they’re not our friends. They could as well be dressing up those smiles with thoughts of all the gold they’ll get when we’re delivered.
But at least it’s more comfortable aboard than Captain’s ship. Our cabin is twice the size, has its own porthole, and the beds bolted to the floor are as close as I’ve come yet in the Parawerthan to out bed back home. We’ve got a free run of the ship, too. No magic doors, just old-fashioned locks to keep us out of certain places. Food’s better, as well. This morning we had some kind of mashed egg laid over a bed of what tasted like potato cakes. They’ve got a proper cook, a fat, red-faced man called Angalan who bustled out of the galley the moment we were finished to find out what we thought of his food.
I’d swear his face turned even redder when I asked him for more.
Yes, they’re a pleasant lot these buccaneers, pirates, smugglers, or whatever they really are. But, despite the comforts, I’d much prefer to be sailing with Captain. I miss his charm, his bluntness and comical arrogance. Most of all, I miss his stories. Even through the roughest seas, he had a way of spinning a yarn that made everything feel good and safe. Armbranch misses him, too. I see it the way he looks around the cabin whenever we join Jaeran up there.
It’s hard to look out across the sea without wondering where Captain and Solera are right now. Somewhere beyond the horizon, I guess. Yes. Where they’re supposed to be. I wonder if we’ll ever see them again. I truly hope so.
The journey to Tracen is longer than I expected. Four days. Jaeran said he’s taking the longest, safest route. We’re going to join a current called the Cladrod currant. The waters flowed in such a way there it discouraged other mariners, especially those in the pay of the Tinotte leaders, from ever venturing near it.
I also found out what that thing they’re towing is. A weapon. Or perhaps ‘deterrent, might be a better word. Jaeran told us it produces a vibration that keeps predators away.
Rod Stewarts’s song ‘Sailing’ is stuck in my head. Can’t get rid of it. Not complaining. Anything’s better than hearing Lession.