The sailors, Ostrik’s party, the captain, and the two Devils boarded the ship called Soldier’s Pride. The double decker rose tall with its masts square rigged up to rising sails. The wind blew in and wafted the scent of salt, and pelicans soared above the crow’s nest. Captain Dunarik marched onto the aftercastle that overlooked the working men and women below.

  “Make ready, sailors,” he barked and the crew roared in unison.

  “Valks across the sea!”

  Kasar watched in awe as the team moved swiftly to have the ship leave the dock.

  Vorza looked amused as he helped carry barrels and racks to and from beside Kasar. “A Vrodian crew functions better than this rabble.”

  “Really?” asked Kasar, huffing from the weight of his barrel. “They are quite fast.”

  Vorza gave a grunt as the two descended the stairs into the bottom deck. Hammocks and sacks lay spread around the floor, packed against more barrels and equipment. The hammocks hung over each other, sometimes two or three at a time. Kasar pitied anyone tall as the ceiling loomed just over his own scalp.

  “So cramped.”

  “Exactly,” said Vorza. “Vrodian ships, I tell you, are built with Green Runes engineered into the hull. It can have larger innards while maintaining a sturdier structure to graze across the seas.”

  They set their things in the bottom deck where more cargo had been stored. After a few more rounds, and several beads of sweat, the crew were ready to depart in full.

  Ostrik and his crew had already begun mingling with the sailors. Kasar trained his hearing on what the rowdy man said.

  “I plan to wed a goddess.”

  “You’re mad,” laughed a few sailors.

  “Trust me, this one likes mad men.” His grin flashed and the sailors rolled their eyes. Some even grumbled about tempting the seas.

  “He shouldn’t be saying such things,” said Vorza.

  “Sea goddesses and weddings?” asked Kasar. “I think he’s just trying to sound interesting.”

  “Words fly in winds, power flows in the waters. It means more at sea.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  Vorza didn’t say more.

  When the ship left the docks and sailed off, Kasar watched the earthen tiled roofs slide away. Soon the sails of docked ships, and the coast vanished behind the horizon and Kasar eagerly awaited the next course of his adventure. From the woody shades, deserts, and marshes to the sea itself. Kasar felt like an explorer. He wished he could read so as to learn of the greatest adventurers of the past. A smile plastered his face as the salty sea sprayed from the waters below. This wasn’t too bad.

  The voyage began smoothly, the winds flowing in their favor, and the waters calm. However, Kasar had varying definitions of calm. An hour in, his stomach began rumbling. The next hour, their meager meal seemed less appetizing than the scraps he and Vorza had survived on once out of the pits.

  He ate nonetheless, but soon after the third hour ended, Kasar rushed to the edge of the ship and hurled his meal overboard. Retching, eyes watering, he swore.

  The crew began cheering and Ostrik’s handsome bard played a jig that the sailors danced around. Even Captain Dunarik seemed amused over the aftercastle, his arms resting on the railings as he watched the abashed young Devil recover.

  “Alright that’s enough,” said Dunarik. “Back to stations.”

  Kasar wiped his mouth and realized Dunarik was striding his way with a stern face.

  “Sorry about that,” Kasar rasped, his throat sore.

  “Get yourself together. In a fight, you’ll be the first to die. I didn’t let a freeloader come on board just to die so petty.”

  Kasar’s belly churned with annoyance. “I’ll be fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Or you’ll be dead.” Dunarik turned to leave.

  “Wait,” said Kasar.

  “What is it?”

  “Do you really think we’ll be attacked?”

  Dunarik’s eyes flitted to Ostrik who narrated tale after tale of his adventures in Warvale. Kasar caught a mention of “sea goddess” again, and a promise made by a witch.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “That mercenary is going to cause trouble.”

  “Can the sea really hear?”

  “The sea just is.”

  “Okay, and?” asked Kasar, frowning.

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Why don’t you shut him up?”

  “Because my men like him, and his stories don’t scare them anymore.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Courage and confidence, boy. It might just save us in the end. Things work differently here. Various traits are foolish on land, and end up working here. And that Ostrik might be mad enough to follow through.”

  “You’re going to leave this ship and its people to chance and madness?” asked Kasar, perhaps too harshly than he’d have wanted to.

  “Watch your tone,” growled Dunarik. He leaned in so Kasar could smell his rancid, salty breath. He’d eaten pork this morning. “Chance and madness are all you have left at sea. Never forget it.”

  “You make it sound hopeless.”

  The captain flashed a sneer and gave a hearty chuckle that rose from the belly. Turning around, he strode away, back to his post above the main deck.

  ****

  “Where is he?” asked Cryppe, concerned.

  “Follow me,” said Vorza, leading Cryppe above deck. Night had fallen, and the moon shone pale and haunted. Placid seas around them rippled slightly from the breeze, and The Soldier’s Pride cut through the still surface northward.

  The sailors above had fallen asleep, piling atop whatever to use as a cushion. Any semblance of comfort had been thrown out for sheer practical fitting. Below deck was no better with hammocks bearing two to sometimes three folk.

  Kasar, however, had huddled himself behind a cluster of crates, hands clutching his belly. His face gleaned from the sweat that dribbled down his cheeks. Red marks cracked in the whites of his eyes. He shivered and smiled when he saw his mentor bring Cryppe.

  “What if the rest of them catch what I have?” asked Kasar, trying not to tremor his speech.

  “Don’t worry,” said Cryppe, clasping his hands together and rubbing them against each other. “Pestilence is a thing of the past, my friend.”

  “Pesta-what?” asked Kasar.

  Cryppe laid his hands onto Kasar’s head and the young Devil felt the surge of power rush through him. Pain gripped his mind. Vorza tackled Kasar’s legs down so he wouldn’t kick out of control. His arms flailed, but Cryppe had his mail on so he did not feel any real damage.

  Soon enough, the healing ended and Cryppe sighed in exhaustion. His hand went to his chest.

  “He’d caught something alright,” the mercenary said with strain in his voice. “I think he was just more vulnerable due to being at sea for the first time.”

  “Lad?” asked Vorza.

  “I never want to be on a ship again.”

  “One more voyage, lad,” said Vorza. “From the Isles to Mahar. Or maybe straight to Vrodia.”

  “Unless you want to stay in a cesspit of crime and depravity,” said Cryppe.

  “Thank you,” groaned Kasar. “Why doesn’t that magic just solve all the world's problems?”

  “Scarcity,” said a voice from behind them. It was Rend, the grim looking man with a sickle at his hip. Another one of Ostrik’s men. “Scarcity means you can hoard it. Hoarding it means people will be upset. The ones who have hoard it will divide it amongst their supporters.”

  “Thanks for explaining how a government works,” said Cryppe.

  “He asked.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Well done with the healing. You should have asked me.”

  “I wouldn’t be able to pay your fees.”

  “Ostrik would have allowed it on this occasion.”

  “Are you his lap dog?”

  Rend’s eyes grew narrow. “Cryppe, I like you. I owe my loyalty to Ostrik, but also to myself. Do not insult me.”

  “You know he’s crazy right?” asked Cryppe. “Talking about sea goddesses and all. The captain’s terrified of him. He doesn’t speak up because he fears Ostrik has more sway than himself as the damn captain.”

  “Is it true?” asked Kasar. “He says he is going to wed a sea goddess. That’s why he is on this voyage. It takes it over her realm. It’s all fluff and fairies, surely?”

  Rend’s eyes softened, but his face was as hard as rock. “Devils know little of what lies in the sea. But a Vrodian?” He turned to Vorza. “Tell me, what do you think?”

  Vorza scoffed. “Madness. All of it.”

  “Is that your conclusion?”

  “Not fully.”

  “Follow that line of thought. Elaborate”

  Vorza shrugged. “Things work differently at sea. Different rules of fate, if you will.”

  “Why?” asked Rend, encouraging more from the Devil.

  “No one can say. It’s mostly observation. Many have succeeded where others have failed and it boils down to either a pattern we haven’t found yet, or sheer luck.”

  “Or faith,” said Rend, giving everyone a meaningful look. “So let me fill your hearts with faith in Ostrik Half-Heart’s madness. It is reliable. And it will come through. We will survive.”

  “Is Dumai just influencing their minds?” asked Cryppe.

  “He isn’t casting Blue,” said Kasar. Kasar could of course sense it if he was. Perhaps his reach encompassed the whole vessel.

  Vorza shook his head as well. He looked annoyed Kasar probably shouldn’t have given Rend insight into his developed sensory skills.

  “I meant more that he could be trying to convince you so that Ostrik has a higher chance.”

  Rend’s lip curled in annoyance. “Even if he was, that’s a very stupid thing to point out to them. Second guessing faith on the edge of a knife? Might as well throw yourself over now. ”

  Cryppe did not respond.

  “I do believe Ostrik will wed the sea goddess. A witch told us.”

  “A witch told you?” asked Cryppe. “At least keep up the faith angle. Could have said it was a priest.”

  “I am not keeping an angle. You were there.”

  “I saw a woman say some vague things. And Ostrik believed it.”

  “Yet you stick with us still. Tell me? Why is it that you do?”

  Cryppe straightened his back. “Consider it professional loyalty for now. After the Isles, Rend, I believe I will part ways. I have seen enough of your band. I think you have too, but your loyalty runs deeper than mine. I don’t know why. You’re a good man under all that filth.”

  Rend’s face hardened and he did not respond.

  Kasar’s vision blurred and he coughed. “I think I am going to sleep.” He didn’t know the history between Ostrik’s band, and didn’t care.