Chapter Nineteen: White Sails, White Hares
Temporary Captain Scaplax blinked sweat from his eyes as the approaching ship filled his gaze. It was a medium-sized vessel, surely not any warship, but yet nothing to be sneezed at. She was set at full sail, the white linen sails billowing outward in the brisk evening breeze. Her oars were stowed at the moment, the manner in which the long wooden paddles stuck out from the ship's sides made her look like some awkward, many- legged beetle, gliding spread-eagled over the calm seas.
Scaplax strained his eyes, scanning the white sails for some sort of flag. Sure enough, he spotted a banner of color, standing proudly out against the white sails in the dim light. It was orange-yellow in color, and he could make out some sort of black markings upon the bright flag. As the ship drew ever nearer, Scaplax saw that the main marking upon the flag was that of a sickle, a common tool used in the farming of wheat and other grains. It was embellished with a small black dot on either side, and a feather lying horizontal beneath the sickle insignia. The feather was usually the heraldic symbol of learning, as far as Scaplax could remember. He attempted to recall what he knew of heraldic symbols, hoping to discern the approaching ship's purpose, thinking carefully to himself.
"The sickle, symbol of agriculture, and the feather, symbol of learning... Scholar-farmers? Pah, that sounds ridiculous... but if that's true, then with some luck they may be peaceful folk..."
Scaplax's thought was cut short by Talongaze. The fox Lieutenant nearly tripped over his tail when the peculiar rat appeared at his side, blinking his strange eyes slowly.
Scaplax cleared his throat and attempted to regain as much dignity as possible, ignoring Talongaze's soft smile.
"Ah..! Err, Talongaze, have you anything to report?"
The mottled black and white rat nodded his head and spoke in his soft, careful manner.
"Yes, Captain. The ship that doth approach seems to be crewed by beasts of a woodland sort, thou wilt shortly see mice, and a white-furred hare. No weapons have been drawn yet, my good Captain, perhaps thou canst speak with them peacefully."
Scaplax visibly relaxed, but only by a fraction. He nodded his thanks to Talongaze, who vanished as quickly as he had appeared. The fox turned again to the rail, watching the ship eerily glide closer and closer. Siduri, who remained by his side, seemed to have her strange eyes fixated upon the ship, squinting occasionally at the bright orange-yellow flag.
* * * * * * *
A short time later, the ship had dropped anchor a frightfully short distance from the Sayladar. Each crew could easily see the faces and expressions of the other, and neither appeared too friendly. Scaplax stood at the head of his motley pirate crew, his narrow chest puffed out with forced confidence. A few moments later, the hare that Talongaze had mentioned appeared on deck. He wore a rather militaristic outfit, with a saber at his side. He held himself with a rather haughty-looking air, and seemed to glare down his nose at the unkempt Scaplax. His voice boomed over the darkened shore.
"Name, rank, and business, vile villain!"
Scaplax had to stop himself from scowling at the hare's arrogant demand.
"Scaplax Nightstorm, Lieutenant of the Sayladar, and our business is our own. Yourself, rude hare?"
"Solmiel Ptarmigan, Captain, first class, Order of the Shell. Our business is this island... Does it belong to you?"
The Order of the Shell sounded strangely familiar to Scaplax, but the question regarding the island set off a small alarm. If this island was of interest to these beasts, Captain Morgan could be in trouble.
"...Perhaps it does, Captain Ptarmigan. What is that worth to you..?"
Ptarmigan turned his back upon Scaplax for a moment to confer with a rather large, dark-furred mouse who had been standing behind him. In that moment, Scaplax had the urge to hurl one of his hand-axes into the arrogant hare's back, but he resisted. Within a minute,
Ptarmigan turned back to the Sayladar. There was ice in his gaze, and it made the fox's hackles rise.
"It means, Lieutenant Scaplax, that you have two hours to get yourself and your crew as far away from our island as possible."
Temporary Captain Scaplax blinked sweat from his eyes as the approaching ship filled his gaze. It was a medium-sized vessel, surely not any warship, but yet nothing to be sneezed at. She was set at full sail, the white linen sails billowing outward in the brisk evening breeze. Her oars were stowed at the moment, the manner in which the long wooden paddles stuck out from the ship's sides made her look like some awkward, many- legged beetle, gliding spread-eagled over the calm seas.
Scaplax strained his eyes, scanning the white sails for some sort of flag. Sure enough, he spotted a banner of color, standing proudly out against the white sails in the dim light. It was orange-yellow in color, and he could make out some sort of black markings upon the bright flag. As the ship drew ever nearer, Scaplax saw that the main marking upon the flag was that of a sickle, a common tool used in the farming of wheat and other grains. It was embellished with a small black dot on either side, and a feather lying horizontal beneath the sickle insignia. The feather was usually the heraldic symbol of learning, as far as Scaplax could remember. He attempted to recall what he knew of heraldic symbols, hoping to discern the approaching ship's purpose, thinking carefully to himself.
"The sickle, symbol of agriculture, and the feather, symbol of learning... Scholar-farmers? Pah, that sounds ridiculous... but if that's true, then with some luck they may be peaceful folk..."
Scaplax's thought was cut short by Talongaze. The fox Lieutenant nearly tripped over his tail when the peculiar rat appeared at his side, blinking his strange eyes slowly.
Scaplax cleared his throat and attempted to regain as much dignity as possible, ignoring Talongaze's soft smile.
"Ah..! Err, Talongaze, have you anything to report?"
The mottled black and white rat nodded his head and spoke in his soft, careful manner.
"Yes, Captain. The ship that doth approach seems to be crewed by beasts of a woodland sort, thou wilt shortly see mice, and a white-furred hare. No weapons have been drawn yet, my good Captain, perhaps thou canst speak with them peacefully."
Scaplax visibly relaxed, but only by a fraction. He nodded his thanks to Talongaze, who vanished as quickly as he had appeared. The fox turned again to the rail, watching the ship eerily glide closer and closer. Siduri, who remained by his side, seemed to have her strange eyes fixated upon the ship, squinting occasionally at the bright orange-yellow flag.
* * * * * * *
A short time later, the ship had dropped anchor a frightfully short distance from the Sayladar. Each crew could easily see the faces and expressions of the other, and neither appeared too friendly. Scaplax stood at the head of his motley pirate crew, his narrow chest puffed out with forced confidence. A few moments later, the hare that Talongaze had mentioned appeared on deck. He wore a rather militaristic outfit, with a saber at his side. He held himself with a rather haughty-looking air, and seemed to glare down his nose at the unkempt Scaplax. His voice boomed over the darkened shore.
"Name, rank, and business, vile villain!"
Scaplax had to stop himself from scowling at the hare's arrogant demand.
"Scaplax Nightstorm, Lieutenant of the Sayladar, and our business is our own. Yourself, rude hare?"
"Solmiel Ptarmigan, Captain, first class, Order of the Shell. Our business is this island... Does it belong to you?"
The Order of the Shell sounded strangely familiar to Scaplax, but the question regarding the island set off a small alarm. If this island was of interest to these beasts, Captain Morgan could be in trouble.
"...Perhaps it does, Captain Ptarmigan. What is that worth to you..?"
Ptarmigan turned his back upon Scaplax for a moment to confer with a rather large, dark-furred mouse who had been standing behind him. In that moment, Scaplax had the urge to hurl one of his hand-axes into the arrogant hare's back, but he resisted. Within a minute,
Ptarmigan turned back to the Sayladar. There was ice in his gaze, and it made the fox's hackles rise.
"It means, Lieutenant Scaplax, that you have two hours to get yourself and your crew as far away from our island as possible."