Chapter 9
Running, jumping and leaping around, onto and over everything in his way, Dassiter De Fformelo Tussock raced across the island one last time towards Xoer's camp. He had been out searching for Leonardo all night and had lost track of time. Although he was unsatisfied with the results of his search, he was eager to get off of the island and see Xoer's contraption work. It was assumed that the former captain was dead. Dassiter knew the crew would be upset to hear the news of his search, some less than others, but they had agreed that if it came to it they would have put the captain out of his misery anyway. Thankfully, the ocean must have done it for them; nobeast truly wanted to kill him.
Coming up onto a hill, he stretched up onto his paw tips and looked towards camp. A large white bulge appeared above the clearing. Whooping with delight, the hare raced forward to the clearing, arriving just in time to see a sight never before seen.
There the ship stood, or rather flew! It had been hung from a massive balloon being constantly filled with steam and hot air. The ship's hull was a bit smaller than the Seaspark's but shaped to a slope on the sides and a completely flat bottom, this was to allow a landing on both water and flat land. It also had no hatches like the Seaspark had. The balloon was longer than the ship itself and made completely out of a light sailcloth and supported on the inside by a thin wooden frame to prevent a gust of wind from blowing the canvas in on itself.
To push the ship forward, there was a propeller attached to the stern of the ship. This was directly linked to a wheel on the interior where two creatures would be stationed and turn the wheel, thus spinning the propeller. There was no galley onboard, just a quickly assembled kitchen; the ship was designed to get off an island, not be luxurious. It was to be steered by placing a rudder behind the propeller that would turn to and fro, just like any other rudder. This would force more air against one side of the rudder and turn the ship in that direction. On the lower deck there were no compartments, just one wide room. Here, all of the stockpiles of food and water were next to the kitchen corner. Also, a series of reed mats were on the floor, these would serve as beds for the time being. Finally, there was an extensive amount of arms for the coming battle with The Cry of Amun (it had been decided that they would pursue Deamal before returning to Mossflower).
"Ahoy Dassiter, hurry up, we're waitin' on ye! Untie the anchor while you're down there!" Shouted Maximus from the ship. Dassiter raced forward feeling like he was still a small scout in the Long Patrol. He cut the rope away from the anchor and held on to it. He was alarmed at how quickly the ship ascended and was soon hanging several meters off the ground. Holding on with great intensity, the hare looked down in amazement. He was flying!
"So this is what the birds see. They must be the happiest creatures in the world!" He said.
"Hey, long-ears, quit swingin' around afore ye kill yerself!" Said Xoer, leaning dangerously over the edge of the ship. Soon Dassiter was on board and joined the many others looking around.
"I don't believe it, we're actually flying!" Said Bellus.
"It feels like I'm dreaming," said Ronar Silverthorn.
"How 'bout I throw ye overboard and we'll see if ye wake up!" Jested his brother.
"The island looks so small from up here doesn't it?" Said Ellyvin.
"Hurr, oi think I'm a gonna be sick!" Said a mole by the name of Tarsl Grudd. "Ee watur be's fine, but *Blargh* Oi don't loike ee flyin', no zurr!
"Say, Xoer, where about are we headed?" Said Gorm.
"Well, that's what I wanted to talk to all of ye about. C'mon, everybeast gather 'round!" Once all (except for the unfortunate airsick mole, who was sitting with his back to the railing and a bucket firmly in his clutch) had been gathered, Xoer proceeded. "By show of paws, does anybeast have an idea as to where The Menace is headed?"
"There was quite a storm the day we saw 'im. I recall seeing the ship escape into it whilst we had our paws full. I bet they'll be stopping someplace for supplies and repairs. Does anybeast have a sea chart?"
"They all sank with the ship," said Dassiter.
"I have one!" Said Maximus, unfolding the large map from around his spear, "It's not complete, but it has a pretty fair amount of range on it." He laid it out on the deck for all to see.
Marius spoke up in his grand bass voice, "It's a great map, Maximus. But the problem is we're around here." He pointed a massive paw at an unfinished portion of the map.
"Hm, somebeast give me some charcoal, I can fill that in." Said Bellus. Immediately, she set to work drawing in as much as she could. "This may take a bit, workin' from mem'ry, ye see. Jus' keep west fer now."
The Cry of Amun had endured the storm, but it had also taken monumental damage. The wind had ripped the sails, the waves washed supplies overboard, the foremast had been struck by lightning and was blown to pieces, and just about everybeast onboard was injured to some extent.
Deamal sat on a barrel and conversed with Vladd, the ship's navigator rat, as he got his wounds redressed by a stoat named Samarias. "What progress have you made, Vladd?"
"Sir, I have calculated that if we sail straight east from this point, we will arrive at a land mass within a few days."
"You are being vague, Mr. Vladd."
"Well captain, we lost some of our equipment in the storm and it's still overcast. It will be some time before I can determine our location. However, there is always land to the East!"
The slender pine marten sighed, "Very well, I understand that we are limited in our current predicament. However, as soon as you've the slightest bit of information, you are to let me know, is that understood?"
Vladd stood tall and clicked his boot heels together in salute, "Yes cap'n!"
"Good!" Said Deamal, taking a deep breath of the salty ocean air. "Set all sails to full and set course for east!"
"Er, captain?" Said Vladd timidly.
"We've no sailcloth left, do we Mr. Vladd?" The voice of the pine marten was tired and dreary as he massaged the corners of his black eyes.
"No, captain, there is not a stitch left in the hold or on the masts."
Standing up, he dismissed Samarias and looked about at his crewbeasts. "I am going to my chamber, I need rest. As for the sails, use whatever you can find."
"But captain," said Vladd, "we've nothing to use as sailcloth that'd be sufficient enough to get us moving!"
Stopping in the doorway of his quarters, Deamal turned about to face Vladd on the deck. "That's a nice tunic you have there, mate. There's many other beasts onboard who have similar ones, yes? I bet those would make nice sails if they were stitched together. Mr. Vladd, let me make myself clear. I don't care what you have to do to get my ship to shore but do it and do it quick before I use your pelt for a sail!" Shutting the door behind him, the pine martin slumped behind his desk. Grabbing a bottle of grog, he ripped the cork out with his teeth and filled one of his many jeweled chalices. But when he went to take a sip from it, no drink touched his lips. Upon examining the chalice, he found that there was a crack in its side and his drink had spilled out all over himself. He threw it aside and grabbed another chalice, this one even more jeweled than the last, but found it was also cracked and no drink would hold. Again a third jeweled chalice, a third crack. Finally, he grabbed a dirty wooden cup and filled it. "Huh," he said aloud, "Now why is it that the nicer chalices can't hold their drink, but as soon as I put it in this cruddy bucket, it holds? Maybe I just need t' stop throwin' everything…
"Agh, this reminds me, I need a new ship! This schooner has served me well, but it's old and starting to be a bother. What I need is a new ship, a faster and more efficient one. Perhaps I should get a big trireme and get me some slaves like ole Daskar did. Huh. Din't get 'im far, though... Maybe I should build a temple for meself an' have a fleet at my disposal like Ublaz, now he was a good ruler! Anything that isn't in Mossflower— that coast is locked up tight by Salamandastron. Huh, idiot of a father Dakunda couldn't figure that out. I saw 'is downfall comin' from a season in advance! Dragged my poor sister down with 'im..." He took a big gulp of grog, "I wonder where she would've been today. Ah, probably dead still, never was clever that one, always taking stupid risks like her father...
"Maybe I'll get a caravel with some nice, triangle sails. It'd be nice to be able to sail into the wind instead o' tacking all the time. Yeah, that would be nice... we'll see." The Menace set the chalice down and dozed off for a few moments.
Suddenly he came about with a jolt and sat upright. He had been dreaming again. Dreaming bad dreams, always bad dreams. Always the same bad dreams lately. He wiped a small bead of sweat off of his brow and reflected on what occurred in his nightmare. A tall, wide-eyed mouse stood in front of him, armed with a long cutlass. Every time, he would overpower the mouse until he was about to kill him when an unbearable pain would emerge from his lower back like a thousand knives being thrust through it. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his cup and took a sip. The cup had left a ring on a sea-chart covering his desk. The shape circled a small dot. Upon closer inspection of the map, Deamal found that this dot was Amijowi, a tiny, almost tear-shaped island towards the center of the map. It was such a minuscule thing in the middle of the vast ocean; he thought it to be nothing but a smudge at first.
Suddenly, there was a loud thud from the side of the ship. This was followed by screams and splashing. Deamal grabbed his Khopesh sword and darted out onto the main deck to see what all of the commotion was about. He saw Talom pull two of his own creatures, a rat and a stoat, back onboard. The rat clumsily fell onto the deck. "What is the meaning of this?" Said Deamal sternly. The rat looked up at the captain and tipped his hat to him,
"Sorry cap'n, caught a crab while rowin' ye see!" Every sailor on board, with the exception of Deamal, of course, was nearly naked. By the main mast of the ship, Vladd sat busily sewing the pieces of the new 'sail' together.
All of the onlookers chuckled at the sight of the rat and stoat. Deamal stood shaking with rage. He was not about to have such nonsense on his ship in these conditions! "Silence!" He ordered. Looking at the dripping rat, he put on a mock smile, "Ye caught a crab?"
"Er, Yessir." The stoat next to the rat chuckled,
"Tell me where the oar is."
"Um, back there, captain." Said the stoat, "We 'ave to turn the ship around so we can go back an' get it."
"Turn my ship around?" Deamal's face showed he was dumbfounded at the very thought. "You want me to order my ship, currently being held together by nothin' but spit an' wax at this point, to turn around and waste what precious time we have to find land so we can get your lost oar? Do you take me for a fool, or do you not give a damn about the fact that we have zero supplies and no time to waste?"
The stoat looked worried, "No, no, cap'n I completely understand our time is limited!" Deamal allowed the stoat's words to hang in the air while the rest of the crew looked on in a now stunned silence. Deamal took one step forward, then another, then another until he was a hairsbreadth away from the stoat's face. His midnight eyes stared right through the trembling creature, and then to the crew around them.
"I have no time for nonsense like this. Neither does the rest of the crew who, if I'm not mistaken, would like to get to shore, right?" He said. The crew answered in unison,
"Yes, captain!"
Deamal turned back to the petrified stoat and gave a small snort and smile.
Another splash followed shortly. The crew rushed to the ship's rail, mouths open in sheer amazement at the distance Deamal threw the stoat. He had launched him almost the entire distance to the oar!
