Won't You Bite Even Now? (6)
At that voice, Francois and I turned to look at each other simultaneously. Then another voice rang out.
"Yes. We're heading to Grovbrook Island. Hurry up and set the dock fee already."
I crept around quietly and peered into the complaints office. The person I'd bumped into earlier was leaning crookedly against the reception desk, counting coins in their palm. It was a woman with bright brown hair covered in freckles. Her face looked familiar somehow... who was she? Oh, right! She was one of the ones who'd swiped the navy supplies during that brawl with the marines earlier.
"Ship's registry is Tarda Kingdom, crew of twenty."
"Tarda Kingdom? A flag of convenience vessel?"
"Yeah."
Tarda Kingdom was a landlocked country with no sea access. Yet this woman's ship was registered there because it was a flag of convenience—a system where ships register under a nation totally unrelated to their operations. The main reason? Low taxes.
"Captain's nationality and name?"
"Swafeld. Name's Hesta."
"Ship type and how long has it been in service?"
"Cog ship. Thirty years."
The clerk looked up at her in surprise as he filled out the paperwork.
"A cog that's over thirty years old? How the hell do you plan to sail that thing to Grovbrook Island?"
"With heaven-defying navigation skills and sea-shattering guts."
The receptionist nodded absently at her deadpan absurdity.
"Impressive..."
Hmm... a thirty-year-old cog, huh. No way—it's gotta be that rustbucket I saw on the way here.
The woman slammed a few copper coins on the counter.
"Sorry, but I'm short on time. Make it quick?"
"Ah, right."
The clerk checked a few more details and tallied up the dock fee for the vessel. It was basically free. Sounded good on paper, but it also meant the ship was that damn old.
She grabbed the receipt and strode out of the office. She glanced at me and Francois standing by the door, then hurried out the administration building's entrance.
"Francois. Let's tail her."
Sure enough, she headed straight for that battered cog ship. Crewmen were loading cargo across a plank bridging the dock and deck. Mixed in were some of those navy supplies they'd stolen earlier. If they get caught with that, it's not gonna end with just jail time.
"Captain's here!"
The crew greeted her, and she bellowed back.
"Load the navy shit first, you idiots!"
"Heh heh. Don't get your knickers in a twist. We'll handle it."
Whether the captain raged or not, the crew moved at their own leisurely pace, chuckling. But it wasn't defiance—they just seemed to get along great.
"Ugh, paying wages for louts like you is a waste!"
"Wages? You mean the two or three times a year we get paid? Call it quarterly pay, why don'tcha."
"Hold your horses, you bastards. I'll rake in a fortune on Grovbrook Island and settle all the back pay in one lump sum."
"Sure, if we come back alive, Captain."
The crew gave as good as they got, and the woman captain just laughed heartily, shaking her head.
"Who's the pair lurking behind you? New hires? We're already short on grub."
"What? New crew?"
She whipped around, met my eyes, and raised one eyebrow.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Mind if I ask something? You're going to Grovbrook Island, right?"
"And?"
"Give us a ride too."
"Say what?"
She stared at me and Francois like we'd lost our minds. Honestly, I thought the same of her. Sailing a decrepit cog to a lizardman-infested hellhole? Gotta be nuts. But it was the only boat heading there right now, so beggars couldn't be choosers.
"You know where we're headed before hopping on?"
"Grovbrook Island. The place with such brutal currents no normal ship can even approach."
"Then why the fuck would you wanna go there? You insane?"
I just stared her down. She coughed awkwardly after calling out her own crew for the same thing.
"No dice. Crew's full."
"You could fit ten more easy. You said twenty crew."
"How'd you know that? Oh, eavesdropping at the office, huh. Still no."
She crossed her arms firmly.
"Not enough food. Barely scraping by for twenty as is. And it's not a quick hop—we're searching the island too, no telling how long."
"You mean you can't afford more supplies?"
"No? It's about keeping the ship light. Too much cargo and one bad wave flips us. You wouldn't get it—not a sailor."
"Hmm. Fair enough. But if you're lightening the load, why bother stealing navy supplies to haul aboard?"
She clamped her mouth shut and glared. But she wasn't scary—too young-looking, kinda tomboy-cute. How the hell did a girl like that wrangle twenty roughneck sailors?
"So what're you getting at?"
"Simple. Take us aboard. I've sailed before, got some muscle. And she's a chef—handy for the voyage."
I flicked a gold coin from my pouch her way. She snatched it midair and gawked at me.
"Covers our meals."
"Guh..."
Under the southern sun, the gold gleamed. Her jaw dropped halfway.
"That enough?"
"Uh... more than."
She looked shell-shocked by the windfall. Ship rations were just cheap long-lasting bread, jerky, and pickled veggies—a single gold covered two people with change.
"Guess you're aboard then."
"But why Grovbrook? I can't just take on shady strangers without a reason."
"We're not shady. Heading there to catch moonlight cod—those things that live around the island."
"Moonlight... cod? The hell's that? Some fish?"
"Heard it's delicious cod. But the currents keep ships away, so we were about to give up—till we heard about you."
"Ugh... you are nuts..."
She muttered to herself. In the end, I had to spill the whole backstory: Expanding my inn big-time back in Verabche Kingdom. Lizardmen guests mentioned moonlight cod. Came all this way to snag some. Even flashed our IDs before she started buying it.
"That square it? Can we board?"
"Well... if that's the deal... no guarantees on survival. You might die."
"We know."
Death? Please. I had countermeasures.
She stuck out her hand.
"Hesta. From Swafeld."
"Bertrand Balder. From Verabche."
"Francois Audrion. Verabche too."
Introductions done, she eyed us warily.
"Fancy names. Nobles?"
"Nah, just commoners."
"Yeah, figures. What noble chases fish this far?"
She pocketed the gold and hollered for some crew.
"Follow me. Need to buy more stuff."
"Huh? What with? We're broke."
"Shut it and march!"
To Francois: "Chef, right? Come on. Food shopping."
Figured—short on cash for grub. But pushing to Grovbrook anyway? Either adventure junkie or chasing pirate treasure rumors. Whatever. Didn't matter.
As Hesta and Francois headed to the market, I turned to the crew.
"This all goes aboard?"
"Yeah. You two joining for Grovbrook too?"
"Business nearby."
The sun-bronzed sailors wiped sweat and grinned.
"You must be half-mad yourself."
"Moderately. Details later—this all for the hold?"
They nodded at the heavy sacks.
"We'll help. It's heavy, even if it's just barely enough chow."
"Nah. Stand back. I got it."
I shoved them aside and started stacking sacks neatly.
"Hey now, kid. Don't overdo it or you'll—guh?!"
They yelped as I hoisted eight at once.
"Where to?"
"Th-this way..."
They scrambled over the plank, guiding me. I'd sailed plenty as a hero, even worked as deckhand. Dodged typhoons, fought sea monsters underwater. Ship was rickety, but we'd manage.
A wagon groaned up, loaded with food Hesta had bought. Nearly blew the whole gold—massive haul. Once even that was stowed belowdecks, the ship buzzed with departure prep. Planks pulled in, anchor up, lines cast off...
Captain Hesta hunched over charts at a tiny poop-deck desk. Compass out, ruler marking dots, lines connecting them—she scowled fiercely. No navigator; she handled it all solo.
Pencil behind her ear, she straightened and barked at the crew.
"We set yet?!"
At her command, the first mate rushed over.
"Ready for sail!"
Hesta gripped the weathered tiller and roared.
"Hoist the sails!"
Crew hauled ropes; the single sail billowed full of wind. The cog eased backward as a few whistled warnings to nearby ships. She slipped through the anchored fleet, Hesta swinging the bow seaward.
Hands firm on the tiller, she bellowed.
"Here we go! Desire's Maiden—full ahead!"
Wait, what kind of ship name is that...?