The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock (3 page)

“Wow,” said Kinker. “So you have an entire fleet of
sailing ships, each manned with a complete crew? Just to escort you
to World's End?”

Kinker immediately knew that he had said something
wrong because Telka shuffled his feet and looked away, Vashnas
become interested in her jacket's right sleeve, and Malock's arms
dropped to his sides and he suddenly looked as old as Kinker.

“Ah,” said Malock, a slight tremble in his voice,
“wrong tense, Kinker. We
had
an entire fleet of sailing
ships, all manned with a complete crew. Five ships, in fact. Now
... well we only have one. This one, actually.”

Kinker could hardly believe his ears. “How did you
lose almost an entire fleet of ships?”

“A string of bizarre coincidences and disasters that
I doubt even Tinkar, the God of Fate, could have seen coming,”
Malock said, shaking his head. “I'll tell you about them later. All
you need to know is that the current situation is very grim for
everyone involved, including you.”

Those words seemed to resonate with Kinker in a way
he couldn't at first explain. Then it hit him.

He looked around the quarters he was lying in and
realized what it was about the place that had bothered him. The
room smelled of fish and blood, the walls and floor were stained
with bodily fluids he didn't care to identify, and there was a hole
in the ceiling that looked to have been created by someone stabbing
the ceiling with a sword.

When he looked more closely at Malock, Vashnas, and
Telka, he noticed more signs of weariness and damage. Telka's hair
was matted and encrusted with dirt, Vashnas stood with all of her
weight on her right leg, like her left leg couldn't support her,
and Malock himself had several small scratches across his face that
messed up his otherwise handsome complexion. All of them shared the
same weary, tired look that Kinker had always associated with
retired soldiers. He had seen a lot of retired soldiers back on
Destan during fishing season, when retirees from the various
Northern armies came down south to fish.

Whatever had happened on this voyage, Kinker
understood that it was far more serious than he had first thought.
And to be honest, he wasn't really eager to find out exactly what
had sunk four large sailing ships and killed their entire
crews.

Malock shook his head and said, “But enough of that.
We have enough sorrow on this ship as is. Let's try to think happy
thoughts.”

“Happy thoughts?” Kinker said, looking at the
Captain in disbelief. “Why haven't you headed back home to Carnag?
I mean, you lost four ships and from what you've said this one
isn't doing too well, either. Seems irresponsible to risk the lives
of everyone on this ship like this.”

“I cannot ignore the summons of a goddess,” said
Malock, as if the very suggestion was insane. “As a Kanonite
yourself, surely you have heard stories of what Kano has done to
people who ignore or disobey her direct summons?”

Kinker nodded. “Yes, but I'm sure she would
understand if you had to go back to get another fleet. She is not
an unreasonable goddess.”

“I can't risk that,” said Malock. “Angering gods is
never a wise move, Kinker. Besides, you don't understand. I can't
just go back. My very soul is drawn to World's End, like a magnet.
I couldn't go back even if I wanted to.”

Kinker had to admit that Malock seemed to be
genuinely driven. He didn't look away from Kinker as he said that,
nor did he tremble or stumble over his words. The Captain of the
Iron Wind
seemed to believe in what he had just said and he
wasn't going to apologize for it no matter what. Maybe he was less
spoiled than Kinker had thought.

“Fine,” said Kinker. “I guess it is too later now to
turn this ship around; although I find it strange that Kano didn't
protect your fleet from destruction.”

“You should direct that inquiry to the other gods,”
said Malock. “Most of the crews of my fleet were not Kanonites.
Perhaps Kano didn't see any reason to protect them or perhaps they
just weren't especially pious; either way, that is no reason for me
to give up and go home.”

“I didn't say you should,” said Kinker. “In fact, I
said the opposite. By the way, where are we now?”

Malock looked at Vashnas, who said, “We just entered
the southern seas a day ago.”

Kinker shivered. “The southern seas? Please tell me
you're joking.”

“Hardly,” said Malock. “In order to reach World's
End, we have to go through the southern seas.”

“But the southern seas are full of danger,” Kinker
said. “All the old legends say so. Gigantic sea monsters,
unpredictable weather, and all kinds of other things are said to
exist there. There's a reason Destan is the farthest known southern
island, you know.”

“So what?” said Malock. “Those are just stories and
legends, Kinker. We have so little precious fact to rely upon that
I find it silly to be afraid. I mean, so far, the southern seas
have been very kind to us, with favorable winds and bright
sunshine. You're just worrying for no reason.”

“No,” Kinker said, shaking his head. “A friend of
mine once told me about the giant sea snakes that live in these
seas. They have mouths big enough to swallow entire islands
whole.”

Vashnas laughed. “Giant sea snakes with mouths big
enough to swallow whole islands? That's so ridiculous that I can't
believe you even thought that was true.”

Being laughed at—by an aquarian, of all beings—made
Kinker angry, but before he could answer, Malock said, “Fear not,
elder. We have the best guide to the southern seas that anyone
could ask for. We'll be prepared for whatever these seas have to
throw at us, and then some.”

“And who is that guide?” said Kinker, looking at
Malock.

“Me,” said Vashnas, pointing at herself.

Now Kinker shifted his attention to her. “What do
you know about the southern seas, young lady? No one who has ever
tried to explore them has ever returned alive.”

“Except for Vash here,” said Malock, reaching over
and patting her right arm. “She's been to the southern seas,
traveled all the way to World's End, in fact, and can tell us
everything there is to know about it.”

“Really?” said Kinker. “How do you know that for
sure? I would like some proof.”

This seemed like a reasonable request to Kinker, so
he was shocked when Malock stood up, knocking over his chair, and
grabbed Kinker by his beard. The Captain didn't raise his other
hand or anything, but he was staring at Kinker with such intense
loathing that Kinker felt like he was being held above a fire.

“Don't ... you ... dare ...” Malock said, every word
emphasized for impact, “... imply ... that Vashnas is a liar ... or
I'll ...”

“Captain, please,” said Telka, reaching out and
grabbing Malock's arm. “Let go of Kinker right this instant. He's
still weak, and any undue shock might harm his still-recovering
system.”

Malock just shot Telka an even angrier look, but the
doctor didn't let go or shift his gaze. That made Kinker respect
Telka immensely because his chin was starting to hurt from Malock
pulling on his beard.

“Didn't you hear what he said?” Malock said through
gritted teeth. “He implied Vashnas is a liar. You think I'm going
to stand here and let him get away with it?”

“I understand your anger, Captain, but it's the
wrong response,” said Telka, his tone even and firm. “He didn't
have any malicious intentions. He's understandably skeptical
because he obviously believes no one has ever gone to the southern
seas and come back alive. Now let go of him or I will be treating
your injuries in a moment.”

For a moment, Malock didn't let go. If anything, his
grip seemed to tighten because his knuckles turned whiter and his
normally handsome face became contorted with anger.

Then, to Kinker's relief, Malock let go and stood
back. Kinker let out his breath, which he hadn't even realized he'd
been holding in, and moved as far away from Malock as he could on
his bed. Vashnas put an arm around Malock's shoulders and began
speaking to him in low, soothing tones, but that didn't seem to do
much to make Malock calm down.

“I'm sorry for implying that Vashnas is a liar,”
said Kinker. “I wasn't meaning to. You heard Telka. He got it
right.”

Malock didn't respond. He just kept glaring at
Kinker like he was hoping to kill him with his nasty looks
alone.

Vashnas looked at Kinker and said, “It's okay. Most
people are skeptical when I tell them I've been to the southern
seas and survived. Honestly, I don't believe it myself at times,
but it's true.”

“Could you tell me how?” said Kinker. “Just for
curiosity's sake. That's all.”

“I received a dream from Kano proving it,” said
Malock. He seemed calmer now, but Kinker keep up his guard up just
the same. “The night before I met Vashnas, Kano sent me a dream in
which I saw Vashnas swimming through the southern seas. She
explicitly told me that I needed Vashnas if I was going to make it
to World's End alive. And the very next day, as I was inspecting
the crew of my fleet, I saw Vashnas and immediately summoned her to
my court, where I told her about my dream.”

“Is that true?” said Kinker, looking at Vashnas.

Vashnas nodded, looking a little embarrassed. “When
I first entered his court, Malock showed me a picture he'd drawn of
me, a picture he'd drawn when he woke up. And I know for a fact
that he has never seen me before, so there was no way he could have
drawn it from memory. There is no other explanation for it. Kano
must want me here.”

“I see,” said Kinker. “I guess that makes sense. The
gods surely do work in mysterious ways, do they not?”

“Indeed they do,” said Malock, perhaps more harshly
than was necessary. “Now if you'll excuse me, I must return to my
stateroom. Vashnas and I have to discuss what awaits us in the seas
ahead. For now, Telka will take care of you until he deems you fit
enough to work on the ship.”

Kinker raised a hand. “Hold on. When did I volunteer
to join your crew?”

“I suppose you'd like to swim back to Destan naked?”
said Malock. “I won't stop you if that's what you want to do, of
course, but I doubt you'd make it very far, even if you're a good
swimmer.”

Kinker cursed under his breath. “You're right. I
guess I don't have much of a choice but to work on this ship, do
I?”

“No, you do not,” said Malock. “When you're better,
I'll give you a tour of the ship, introduce you to the crew, and
assign you a job. Do you have any useful or productive skills?”

He asked that last question almost too fast for
Kinker to catch, but the old man said, “Yes. I'm a fisherman by
trade. Been fishing off the coast of Destan for fifty years
now.”

Malock's scowl disappeared like a cloud on a
summer's day, replaced with a giddy smile that took Kinker by
surprise. “That's excellent. I hope you recover soon because I
already know exactly where I want to put you. Telka, make sure to
tell me the minute you think he's ready to start working. I wish to
put him to work right away.”

“Yes, sir, Captain,” said Telka, saluting. “I'll
make sure you know as soon as possible.”

“I'll pray to Atikos for you, Kinker,” said Malock
as he and Vashnas left the room, “so that your healing may come
quickly.”

As soon as Malock and Vashnas left, Telka thrust a
bowl of some kind of greenish soup under Kinker's nose and said,
“Eat up. You look hungry.”

It hadn't even occurred to Kinker to eat, but when
he thought about it, his stomach rumbled. He immediately took the
bowl and slurped down the greenish soup, even though Telka was
about to hand him a spoon. The soup was hot and burned his throat,
but he was so hungry that he didn't care.

When the last of the soup entered his mouth, he
lowered the bowl and handed it back to Telka. “Thanks, doctor. What
was in that soup, anyway?”

Telka took the bowl back, but didn't look at the
bowl. He was staring at Kinker in amazement, like he'd never seen
him before.

“That was lime fish soup,” said Telka. “It's nasty
stuff. Fit for human consumption, of course, but still nasty.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” said Kinker.
“It was good.”

“You're not supposed to slurp it all down like
that,” said Telka. “It's hard on the stomach, so you have to eat it
in small helpings to avoid throwing it all up.”

Kinker put his hand on his stomach and said, “My
stomach doesn't feel that bad. Are you sure that's what it's
supposed to do?”

“Normally,” said Telka. “But I guess you're
different. What do you Destanians normally eat?”

“Fried fish, zapper stew, and other stuff like
that,” said Kinker. “Why?”

Telka put the bowl down on a nearby desk and said,
“I just find it intriguing that you ate it all so quickly and
without any adverse medical—”

The only warning Kinker received was a slight rumble
in his stomach. He heaved and managed to avoid hurling all over his
bed. Unfortunately for Telka, however, his barf landed on the
doctor's trousers and boots, dousing them in lime-green stuff that
Kinker didn't try to identify.

Kinker lay back in his bed, shivering and coughing,
while Telka looked down at his pants and boots in dismay.

“Well,” said Telka, “I guess you Destanians
don't
have stomachs of steel after all. Let me clean this
up. I'll get you some water and after that you should take a nap.
You need it.”

***

O
ver the next few days, Kinker spent all of
his time in bed, being tended to by Telka. He saw no other
visitors. None of the other sailors came down to visit or see him,
although he often heard them bustling by in the hall outside, going
to and fro, perhaps doing chores. He figured Malock had ordered the
crew to leave him alone until he was better, but that just made him
feel a little depressed because he had no one to talk to except
Telka. And Telka was not a very interesting conversationalist.