Sorry for the long update! I did try. Seriously!
Chapter 3
It was common, expected even, that at some point or other in life, one would ingratiate oneself with other, better-off individuals for personal benefit. The skilled curried favour with flair and aplomb, and the inexperienced at least knew to slide their way in cautiously.
Few there were who would purposefully antagonize those whose authority was above theirs, and certainly not aboard a ship, where the rightful place and station were cast in stone; but Kaname, for all his intelligence and charm, as the other seamen observed, was one of these mud-headed clams.
A fortnight into the voyage of the Seamaster, and it was obvious to anyone that Kaname was sinking into Hern's black books like armour into water. None of them actually liked Hern, because the second officer was the son of a rich merchant, and had wormed his way up the naval ladder with neither talent nor effort. He relied on his rank and father's name – and often violence as well – to bully others into subordination.
Kaname made an effort to reign in his fists after Captain Kiriyuu's warning, but it was beyond his nature to tolerate with such mistreatment very long; shorn of physical means, Kaname relied on his other talent to justify himself – verbal abuse.
Hence it came to be that Hern carried out his daily inspections of the men to a litany of vulgar profanities, all uttered by one impudently grinning cad swarming up and over the masts with a pail of tar as black as his obscenities. He had heard of few and understood fewer, but piety and self importance made him feel particularly insulted by these – Kaname was, as it were, "polluting" his surroundings with his filth and commonness.
It was a mark of Kaname's genius that he read and wrote in three languages, spoke in five, and swore fluently in more than ten, excluding Norwegian which he was presently picking up from Finn. The choice phrases he reeled off clanged like sickening carrion calls on Hern's eardrums and were a source of amusement for the men, whose grasps of language were likewise usually limited to the rude and colourful.
"He's blaspheming against all that's good and holy, Captain, its affecting the men and their work negatively – twice I caught Miles rigging the sails wrongly, it's that heathen rogue, distracting them-"
"I will not scold them for language like a school mistress, Henry. The men have a right to their own words, as long as there is nothing against our Lord and good Queen, may she live forever," Captain Kiriyuu snapped over his dinner.
It was one of those hot, muggy seasons come again, with that irrepressible heat that drove men and women to various states of undress. Even night brought little respite, for the ocean releases stored heat after sunset. The captain was contemplating removing his necktie and long sleeved shirt, not to mention the calf length boots that squelched with sweat and moisture whenever he stepped in them.
The weather was bad for his composure, and worse still for the discipline of the sailors. Having hit windless waters for more than three days, tempers were running high, and trouble had swung by just that morning, a petty spat amongst the cook and the "heathen rogue".
A clamour had roused him from his work before noon, and he had gone on deck to see the men gathered in a circle around three others; Finn, Kaname, and Gad.
Gad was one of the Seamaster's oldest members. He had always been slow, rough but kind, bit of a trumpet but with more wisdom than most. Men hailed his formidable stench because it ensured their eating well, and more often than not he was the butt of many a joke that he accepted good naturedly.
Captain Kiriyuu had known Finn for a long time, too. Men named him the golden kraken - for his long hair, now a thick wheat braid that hung past his waist; for those powerful limbs that were longer than mortals should have a right to. Sailors whispered that the Norseman had kraken blood, and that occasionally, he would leap into the sea and couple with the merpeople and their krakens. "Only once in a blue moon, mind ye." Like his namesake, Finn commanded a healthy measure of fear and respect on ship, and his presence was essential in keeping the men in line.
Kaname was another matter altogether. He reminded Captain Kiriyuu of a mustang who would skip up daintily for a lump of sugar and then bite the hand that fed it – for fun.
Consequently, he was not very surprised to find that Finn was standing with his legs planted apart, holding Kaname in one hand and dangling the shorter Gad in another. Kaname's teeth were bared, his fists were clenched, and Gad's nose was bleeding badly.
"Enough, I said!" Finn roared, shaking Kaname by the scruff of his shirt roughly as the younger flailed wildly about.
The captain gestured to the first officer, and Tarren immediately called for their attention.
A silent pall fell over the men as they parted and looked to him nervously. He waited until he had the attention of Kaname Kuran – Finn released Gad, but held on to Kaname with a disgusted mutter.
Captain Kiriyuu took one look at Kaname's face, and upon seeing those eyes sparking with anger, his lips pressed into a thin smile. His features were so sharp and angular, clean and finely chiselled like a nobleman's. He could just see Kaname, given the right grooming, with his easy manners and eloquence, as the perfect ladies' gentleman. Right now, though, his long hair hung in lazy, shiny waves, giving off the scent of a ship's refuse; he was dripping with sea water and strewn with seaweed.
On anyone else, it would give the appalling visage of a terrier half drowned in sludge. Kaname, however, somehow managed to pull it off with an inexplicable air of elegant, if scruffy, resentfulness.
"Time and tide wait for no man! Off to your work with you!" Tarren growled, and the spectators dispersed.
"Well?" Captain Kiriyuu said. Anyone could roar and threaten men into obedience, but the seamaster's captain refused to run his ship on antipathy. He leant on the railing, spreading his arms on the banister and looked at them with a slight tilt of his chin. Purple eyes glinting in the sunlight coolly awaited their response. Gad finally burst into a sullen complaint.
"Tha' stug ub jackal spawd loogs dowd od the likes o' me ad' by kind, cap'n. Themb all gave hib too buch approval, 'ad id's all gone to 'is head. He bid idsultin' be place ad' professiod, sir, whad wid dirdying up the cook area wid all dad rod, gibbe extra work' and thinks he aid't pleased with his meals. A toody he drags in, sir. A whole bloody toody, a six food bess of blood and scales! As ib I were a midwife! I dold hib so, and he hids be here - " Gad motioned toward his nose.
The captain was a veteran of embellishments and heartfelt accusations, sailors being passionate, if slightly ridiculous beings; but this was one of the more insensible stories, rendered almost nonsensical by the exaggerated nose injury.
"A tunny, you say?"
"A toody, sir, yes."
"I see. He brought a fish into the kitchen and you lost your temper. And are you so idle as to sit around fishing, Kuran?"
And so on. Hern stuck onto his heels like a rotten peel to one's shoe sole, eager to give the men a hiding. The captain, however, had other ideas.
"Very well. Gad, return to your normal duties, but let Kuran have the privilege of managing tonight's meal, and we'll see if he can't do better. Kuran, seeing as how to deem your normal job unworthy of wholehearted attention, I expect a satisfactory meal of this prized tunny tonight, otherwise you can take lessons as the cook's scullery maid in addition to your sailor's duty."
It was impressive, the way he established order with a few sentences. He was quite sure Kaname lacked any basic culinary skill, and by letting him take charge of supper, it implied displeasure or at least dissatisfaction with his cook, hence it was a rebuke to Gad. At the same time, saddling Kaname with the burden of butchering and making edible a giant animal whose thrashing could still be heard beneath the deck, could allow Gad a measure of vengeance and superiority. The bonus, of course, was Kaname's disbelieving snort, which became a cough when he realised his captain was serious.
A sail snapped mockingly in the shocked silence that prevailed, and Captain Kiriyuu had the satisfaction of pivoting on his heel and striding away from the two seamen. Once in his cabin, he dropped his impassive mien and chuckled. Hern was displeased by this lackadaisal punishment, and warned his captain in dire tones that the lowlife miscreant would find a way to do the men harm in his cooking.
If only the captain and his officers knew that at that very moment, when Kaname should have been sweating in the heat of of the kitchens and labouring over the fish, he was lazing in his hammock and regailing his fellow seamen with his exploits in (and out) of the sheets.
How Kuran had managed it, he didn't want to know, but the fish had been brought to his table at sunset, sizzling in its fats and still smoky from the oven. The top was glazed with honey and lime, and Captain Kiriyuu suspected that the bottom of it was burnt. The flesh was tasty enough, however, with a pleasant springy texture and a salty sea scent. It was sent up with spiced vegetables and a strong wine. All in all, one of his better meals on board.
"Captain," Tarren's voice proceeded a knock. "Kuran's here, says he has - dessert." The last word was said with a touch of confusion.
Dessert? Since when did one have dessert on board? Captain Kiriyuu raised his brow, pleasantly surprised.
"Send him in with it."
There was a click as Kaname opened the door and came in. Kiriyuu bestowed an approving glance in his direction.
"I must admit, you did put up quite a show here. I am sufficiently impressed with your culinary skills," Captain Kiriyuu commented. He swirled the wine elegantly, and sipped from it.
"Thank you, captain. I'm glad you liked it. It's going to get better, you know."
Kiriyuu looked up, and noticed with narrowed eyes that Kaname was empty handed. He did not miss that last phrase, that debonair whip-snap nuance in his tone that was disrespectful in its flippancy and yet audacious enough to attract.
"What do you mean?"
"What I mean is, I'm glad you liked it."
Whatever edge he had gained on Kaname disappeared. He noticed the distinctive lack of sweat and grime on Kaname, and the pale pink skin of his face, with its just-scrubbed-clean rawness. The captain looked at the sailor, then to his empty hands resting on his hips, and back to his eyes alight with a brazen, unshameful desire.
"That was no tunny, it was shark you ate. You wanted a 'satisfactory meal', and in my opinion no meal is satisfacory without dessert. So, well, I'm here with dessert, and I hope you're up for it too, captain."
Captain Zero Kiriyuu's mouth went dry, and the shark he had eaten sprang to life in his belly, coiling and sliding, and sending hot sharp slithers of pain - or was it? - through his every nerve.
I hope you do like that! I hope Gad's speech was understandable. I rather like him!
Tunny : a large fish, known as mackerel now
Thank you for reading! Reviews DO encourage me to update!