The Butcher of Gadobhra

Chapter 217: Something that glitters, something old...

Chapter 217: Something that glitters, something old...

Captain Woodrat and his mate set out across the Sargasso, doing their best to keep to a straight course, but they became sidetracked time and again by the lure of a derelict ship. There were hundreds of wrecks, somehow drawn to this part of the smoke and drawn into the clutches of the strangling sargasso weed. To explore them all would be the work of a dozen teams exploring for a year or more.

Woodrat explained that long before that the strangle weed would be growing again. This was a golden opportunity to loot and plunder, made risky because had no idea of how long they had until that happened. Might be a year and they had plenty of time to find treasure and outfit the best ship they could find. But it could also be only a week and they would be forced to retreat to a large ship with no hope of rescue. Neither of them wanted to push their luck. Finding a ship was priority, with maybe a little looting along the way.

For all Woodrat kidded Ozzy about hauling the longboat behind them, he considered it their escape plan if things went all to hell. Their loot was packed aboard already, along with food, chain, and plenty of wood from the remains of the Splinter. They'd just have to make it to the edge of the smoke and shove off. But for the next day or two the captain wanted to scavenge ships for loot and supplies as they took a chance on finding a ship that was bigger than what he could build, and yet small enough that they could sail it competently.

There was another problem that his constant observations of the smoke revealed; it was heating up. The waves and swells continued, and the remaining creatures that lived in it were going to be taking on extra heat. He'd seen porpoise leaping over and over as they traveled, trying to drain off heat, and at the edges of the Sargasso things were crawling out of the smoke. The Kraken was only the first thing they were going to have to deal with.

Predators were going to become more aggressive, and their normal prey would be fleeing for less hostile seas. This little island of burnt weeds and old ships was going to get more dangerous, day by day. The charred sailors who were left marooned when their ships were entangled in the weed were one threat. Now they had a second as things from the depths took temporary refuge upon the island of burnt salad. He mentioned his worries to Ozzy.

Ozzy mulled over the problem and wasn't coming up with any answers. "Yeah, that doesn't sound good. Charred are bad, especially in numbers, but I have skills that work well on them. I can't hurt a shark the same way I can fight undead. What type of stuff are we talking about? More of that land-kraken thing? How many predators can actually move around out of the smoke."

Woodrat climbed about a pile of wreckage to get a look at the next ship they were coming to, and checked behind them for movement. "That walking pile of tentacles was dangerous, but for all its power, that beast was slow in a footrace. There are worse things. Packs of flying mackerel, wolf sharks, smokesuckers. They'll adapt to moving on solid ground if they have to."

"And we can't forget two-leggers like ourselves. This place is a pirate's dream, and they might not like competition. Or they might think to themselves that two crafty scavengers like us have already found some good loot. The worst type of predator may be the ones that smile at us and want to be friends."

Ozzy hadn't considered that. "So basically, anything that moves could be a threat. It's best that we get a move on then. Let's crack this next one open and see what it has."

The next one was a galley, with just one bank of oars on each side. Splintered oars stuck out along the sides as if the boat had run aground while the rowers had their oars out. This was confirmed as soon as they climbed about the ship. The galley had twenty-five oars on each side, each had been manned by two people. The ship using a hundred men to ply the oars, and they were all still here. Their feet shackled to a chain running along the deck and their wrists were shackled to the oars. One hundred charred rowers had been sitting in the galley for years on end. They screamed and hissed at Woodrat and Ozzie, and a few fought flutily to break their shackles, but the worst were the ones just staring vacantly and those who seemed to be weeping.

Ozzy felt sick. He hadn't really thought of the charred as anything but monsters. But this nightmare was a reminder they had once been men. They had been reduced to slaves, and then to charred. Ozzy felt ill just thinking about it. "What the hell do we do?"

Woodrat drew his sword. "We kill them. Not for loot, and not because they threaten us. We kill them so their souls sink into the smoke and they can board a ship for the living once again. They can't kill themselves, and chained like that they can't even seek out something that can kill them."

Ozzy drew his hatchets. "Go check out the rest of ship, and loot it, or whatever. I'll take care of this job. I don't want you feeding that sword; it makes you crazy. This is work for a Butcher."

Woodrat nodded, and didn't argue. He really hadn't been enjoying the thought of putting down all these enslaved sailors. He turned away as Ozzy began lopping off heads, and so he didn't see a curious thing. As Ozzy approached each charred, they became quiet, and just waited for the blow. Those who had been praying even nodded at him, as if offering thanks. He felt numb as he did it, slashing just once at their brittle necks and seeing each body crumble to black dust.

After all one-hundred of the charred had been sent to the bottom of the smoke, he spent some time looking at the shackles. Each one had a small lock that was magical in nature. They had an ugly feel to them that he didn't like. He took hold of the long chain that wound through the shackles and manacles and tried to break it. It resisted, but at last a link parted, turning to smoke, and one by one the rest of the chain dissolved. He felt better, hoping he'd accomplished something. Woodrat found him sitting there thinking when he came out of the captain's cabin with a roll of carpeting and a dozen bottles in a bag of chain netting. They dropped over the side and continued on. Neither man talked for quite a while.

Woodrat had a good idea of where he wanted to go, and had made a map that marked the locations of some of the ships on the way that looked to the best to look into. Three times a pack of a dozen charred came howling at them, and for a few minutes they fought. Ozzy just let them swarm over him as he killed them one by one. Woodrat dodged and slashed with his enchanted sword, not able to take the damage that Ozzy could. The fights that would have worn them down were becoming trivial. They had no lack of heat. If anything, the fights helped them reduce their heat as they made more smoke. Fuel wasn’t a problem either. Woodrat had been surprised at how filling sausage was.

They skipped over several small fishing boats that were nothing more than broken wood, and made for a larger ship with an intact mast. "I'd like to take another sighting from the top of that mast. And a big ship like that might be interesting to poke into."

It was a warship. On the main deck were two ballistae at both bow and stern where the elevated deck would give a broad range of fire. Additional weapons would have been mounted along the sides, but now only splintered wood and broken decking showed where they had been. One mast was torn loose from the deck and that side of the ship showed considerable damage.

Woodrat looked at it and said, "Squid, a big one. Probably not a walker. To tear out that mast it had to be a deep-dweller. Probably got annoyed at having a bunch of javelins stuck into it and ripped off the arsenal on the port and starboard sides. Never underestimate how smart a deep-dweller is. They have a big brain inside that head of theirs. Some of them even learn some magic, which makes them a terrible foe to piss off."

Ozzy was hoping to avoid seeing one altogether. While Woodrat started his long climb up the mast, he started looking around the ship. The forward hold held another dozen ballistae and catapults. They were tumbled together along with barrels of javelins. To one side, heavily secured were several crates. Ozzy opened one up and saw glass spheres a foot in diameter. The green glass was thick, but he could tell they were hollow. On a hunch he took one over to a catapult and put the glass ball in the sling at the end of the long arm. It looked to be just the right size. So how did you hurt people tossing glass? Unless...was there something inside the glass? He had no real reason to want to find out. Either it was nothing, or something horrible that might kill him. He'd ask Woodrat. The captain seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of knowledge about the ships that sailed the smoke.

Moving back up to the main deck, he explored the cabins and the galley. The galley was a treasure trove of pots, pans, slicers, dicers, and many other utensils. He found several of the large butcherblock cutting boards and what he thought was an oven. It was made out of clay surrounded by a layer of glass and then another layer of thick wood. It was bolted to the floor with wooden screws. He was able to unscrew three of them and then broke off the fourth when it wouldn't budge. The whole oven was a cube four foot to a side. It just barely fit down the passage. He rearranged things in the longboat, putting the oven at the rear. After bringing up an empty crate, he filled it with the pans and cutlery and lowered everything over the side and put the pillaged goods in the longboat. It was filling up fast. A last trip to the galley paid off when he spotted a small wooden chest, half hidden on a tall shelf. Opening it, he saw glass bottles filled with what might be spices. They were corked tightly shut. He opened one that held small seeds and a smell like licorice filled the cabin. Ozzy recorked the bottle of what he thought was anise seed and carried it down to his boat.

The captain's cabin was mostly intact. Ozzy found several old but serviceable blankets, a pillow with an embroidered whale on the front, two wooden chairs that he had to unbolt from the floor, and a large hammock made from an unknown material. The netting looked like twisted plant fibers and was big enough to hold two people or one butcher. He rolled up the bedding and added it and the two chairs to his load. Woodrat came sliding down the mast, excited. "I can see it! She's a beauty and just what we are looking for. Let's get moving." As he jumped over the side of the ship, he noticed the now fully loaded ship’s boat and shook his head in disbelief. "The first time we find a good hammock and I missed it? Life simply isn't fair." But he was smiling and eager to get moving, making Ozzy wonder what he'd seen.

Woodrat insisted on no more plundering. The covered another half mile and Ozzy saw a small ship ahead of them. She looked to be in good shape. He was getting a crash course on ship types from Woodrat. If he was remembering correctly, this was a sloop, with just one mast. She would have a fore and aft sail, probably triangular, and then other, smaller sails.

This is where Ozzy's knowledge got hazy. Woodrat had talked about stay sails, jib sails, cross jacks, gallants and another dozen names that had escaped Ozzy. Once they had just one ship to talk about, he hoped it would be easier to learn it all. Woodrat had told him many times he was going to turn him into a 'proper mate'.

Woodrat was on his knees with tears running down his face. "Look at her! Just look! She's beautiful!"

Ozzy had to admit, it was a nice-looking little ship. Her hull looked in good shape, but there was something odd about it. He walked up and touched the hull, running his hand along smooth surface and brushing off years of dirt, soot, barnacles and whatever else had crawled over her before the heat had killed it. The hull was shiny, and metallic. And hot.

"You found a metal ship? The smoke has metal ships? Is that copper?"

Woodrat stood up and walked over to the ship. "That's Auric, you lackwit of a mate. Don't you know Auric when you see it? Or don't they have this down in the junction? It's a gift from the gods and damned rare. It takes years of harvesting corral and grinding it up for the Auric dust that it contains. And then more years to fuse it to a stout hull. There aren't many sailing the smoke. Even just coating a keel in Auric is an expense that only the richest of merchants can afford, and few spend the money on one. So usually, it's only a ship of war, or a fast courier that will see a coat of Auric added to the entire hull."

"Damn, but why am I lecturing you? Toss me up top. I need to explore my new ship!"

Ozzy did so, and then realized Woodrat was lost to the gleam of the golden hulled ship. He'd best get up there as well.

He was just hoisting himself over the rail of the ship when Woodrat came tumbling back out of passage to the captain's cabin, blown by a powerful wind. He came to rest up near the bow. He stood and straightened his hat. "Look alive Mr. Ozzy, my ship has a passenger, and she's a right spirited little lass."

Wind roared and white smoke poured out of the passage, spinning into a fifteen-foot-high tornado with shining green eyes. A deep, rich voice came from the creature. "If I wasn't going to rip you to shreds before, I'd do it just for calling me that!"