Voyage of the Owl Page 9

  Ethan felt a mixture of elation and sadness. It was the most beautiful fish he had ever seen, and now its life force was ebbing away on the deck.

  ‘A yellowfin tuna,’ whistled Fox, admiringly. ‘It’s a good size too. Not bad for your first catch. We’ll have a feast tonight.’

  Ethan grinned shyly. ‘I never caught anything quite like that in the river at home,’ he said. ‘I thought it was going to drag me to the bottom.’

  Saxon and Ethan gutted and scaled the tuna, slicing it up into thick steaks. There was plenty to feed the whole crew, as well as Aisha and Charcoal.

  As the sun sank into the west in a blaze of riotous colour, Ethan and Lily, Roana and Saxon sat on the deck eating buttery fish straight from the pan. When it was dark, they all lay on the deck looking up at the stars.

  ‘Mmmm, that was good, thanks, Ethan,’ sighed Lily. ‘I think that was the best fish I’ve ever eaten.’

  ‘It was exciting to watch you haul it in, too,’ added Saxon. Ethan smiled at the memory, flexing his sore and blistered hands.

  ‘Look, a shooting star,’ called Ethan.

  ‘There’s another one!’ exclaimed Saxon.

  ‘It is so beautiful,’ Roana breathed softly. ‘It is almost like a fireworks display. The stars were never this bright in the sky at home in Tira. I suppose it is because it is so dark out here in the middle of the ocean.’

  ‘There are no lights or lanterns or fires for kilometres,’ Lily added. ‘It feels like there is nothing else in the whole world except us on this tiny boat and a million stars!’

  When they finally got up to go to bed, Saxon noticed a luminous green streak surge through the black sea. There was another, then another. The others crowded around to watch.

  ‘It’s phosphorescence,’ offered Jack from behind the steering wheel. Jack was the ship’s apprentice, not much older than Saxon and Ethan. ‘It looks magical, doesn’t it? Things that move through the water, like fish and dolphins, glow with a ghostly light. It’s mighty weird till you get used to it.’

  They watched the glowing green streaks until their eyes ached with tiredness. In a few moments they were all asleep, curled up in their cosy nests of sail.

  The next day was as beautiful as the day before. The children ate, dozed and soaked up the warmth of the spring sunshine as the Owl flew across the blue, blue sea.

  It was a strange feeling to be in the middle of a vast azure world, with nothing as far as the eye could see except white-capped waves and the odd glimpse of strange sea creatures gliding under the surface.

  In the late morning, Lily woke up from a light doze. The sun glittered off the sea like shards of broken glass. A large dark shape broke the endless blue. Lily blinked. It was gone. There was nothing. She looked again. Once more a large black shape breached the water for a moment and then was gone.

  ‘Hey, look,’ Lily called. ‘There’s something out there.’

  The others all woke up sleepily from their sail bag cushions. They looked where Lily was pointing.

  ‘It’s a whale,’ cried Ethan.

  ‘It’s two whales,’ added Roana. ‘A mother and a baby.’

  The whales came up together, blowing up spouts of water, like white fountains. They seemed to be playing, leaping out of the water, then crashing back with an enormous splash. The mother dived, leaving her tail upright in the air, like a giant signpost. The baby cavorted, waving its flippers and rolling over.

  The children watched, mesmerised.

  ‘And to think the Sedahs kill those beautiful creatures to make lip balm!’ exclaimed Lily in disgust. She fingered the beautiful pearl at her throat, which the Merrow maid had given her as a gift after saving her life.

  The days and nights slipped by, broken into shifts by the four-hourly tolling of the ship’s bell, which told the crew the time. The crew worked four hours on, four hours off. In their off time, they slept in the hammocks or played cards.

  Sometimes Jack played the harmonica – lively dance reels and sad, sad songs of loss and death that rang out over the ocean like the singing of Merrow folk.

  Mia the monkey loved Jack’s harmonica. One afternoon when Jack had been playing, Mia gambolled over, snatched the harmonica and scrambled up the rigging as quick as lightning. She sat up on one of the spars sucking and blowing, trying to make music. Jack stood for an hour below, begging and pleading with her to come down.

  She finally grew tired of trying to make music and ran away, flying through the rigging like a circus trapeze artist, clutching the harmonica in one wrinkly paw.

  Finally, she came down the mast right where Aisha was curled up asleep in a sail bag. Mia jumped on Aisha’s back and Aisha woke from her sleep in a fright, jumped up and ran, Mia clinging to her back like a jockey.

  ‘Come back before I wring your neck, you blasted monkey,’ shouted Jack, chasing the escaping monkey mounted on Aisha. Aisha ran faster round the perimeter of the deck. Saxon, Roana and Carl all tried to grab Aisha as she passed, but she was too fast.

  Ethan and Lily ran up from below deck, alerted by the cacophony of shouts, barks, swearing and excited monkey chatter. They both burst out laughing to see the pained look on Aisha’s face and the mischievous face of the wicked Mia.

  Aisha ran to Ethan and Lily in relief and rolled at their feet, trying to dislodge the tenacious jockey. Mia was too quick and leapt off, tweaking Aisha’s black ear as she fled.

  ‘Poor Aisha,’ soothed Lily, stroking Aisha gently. Aisha rolled over onto her back to have her white tummy tickled.

  Mia scampered straight down the ladder into the cabin, and a few seconds later escaped through the forward hatch, this time with empty paws.

  Everybody searched the Owl from bow to stern, but there was no sign of Jack’s precious harmonica. Saxon found it that night when he curled up on his sail bag and discovered something hard and sharp wedged inside.

  The children were fascinated by the Owl and keen to learn all they could about sailing. Fox was happy to teach them to fill in the time as they skimmed southwards.

  The Owl had two masts of equal height, with a mainsail, a foresail, two head sails and a square topsail. The winds were currently light, so they used a set of old sails, patched and mended. Two sets of spare sails were kept in the sail hold, where they slept. These included a set of strong, new sails to be used in heavy winds and storms, and another set that Fox affectionately referred to as his invisible sails, though he hadn’t explained why.

  Sometimes Otto, the bo’sun, sat on the deck basking in the sun with his shirt off, patching a torn sail or splicing snapped ropes. His job was to do running repairs on the ship and keep everything in tip-top shape.

  The children noticed in amazement that he had a large creature tattooed in vibrant red, green and blue across his back, shoulders and arms. On closer inspection they realised it was a dragon. Its head and fiery breath snaked down his left arm, its body, claws and wings flew on Otto’s broad back, while its long tail wound sinuously down his right arm. As Otto worked, his muscles rippled under the skin, making the dragon shimmer and tremble as if it were truly alive.

  The tattoo seemed very sinister. Lily felt as though the dragon’s blood-red eye were following her as she moved around the ship, as if Otto were spying on her through the creature. She mentally shook herself and concentrated on her chores.

  Every day the children had to sluice the timber deck with canvas buckets of seawater to keep the timber clean and swollen tight. They helped Jack measure the Owl’s speed using the log line. The log line was a long rope knotted at regular intervals that was rolled onto a reel. The line was attached to a small wooden triangle, which Jack threw into the sea behind the Owl.

  Saxon and Ethan held the reel, feeding out the line. When the first knot hit the water, the sandglass was turned over. The sandglass took exactly twenty-eight seconds to empty. When the sandglass was empty, Jack would count how many knots had been let out. Each knot indicated how many nautical miles the Owl sailed per hour.
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  Another job was to regularly record the water depth with a lead line. The line was thrown over the side with a lead weight to drag it to the bottom. The lead had a hole filled with wax that picked up fragments from the ocean floor, to indicate whether they sailed over sand or rock.

  Even days spent in his company did not make Otto any friendlier. He scowled every time he saw them, especially when he saw Lily cuddling and stroking her black and white kitten. He often made a sign against evil, his three middle fingers curled into his palm, and his thumb and pinky pointing out like horns. Lily tried hard to ignore him and stay out of his way.

  Otto’s surly behaviour was the only sour note in the first week of their voyage, which passed like a lovely relaxing holiday, full of sunshine, splashing, eating, joke telling, sharing chores, card playing and music. Of course, holidays cannot last forever. This voyage had a very serious purpose, which drew ever closer.

  Every day, Marnie, Willem, Queen Ashana and the courtiers were escorted up into the herb garden for some fresh air and sunshine. Every day Marnie gathered fresh herbs, flowers and rainwater to make her herbal tisane. Every day the prisoners drew hope and strength and happiness from this brief respite from the oppressive squalor of their dungeon.

  After four days, there was a break in their new routine. There was a thudding on the locked gate of the walled garden. An order was barked, and the soldiers leapt to attention. Marnie looked up from where she was kneeling on the paving, picking mint. Queen Ashana was walking up and down the paths with Willem beside her and her ladies trailing behind.

  The gate swung open and in walked Governor Lazlac. His face was pale and gaunt, with black shadows under his eyes. Queen Ashana stiffened. She pulled herself up taller. Willem stopped momentarily, but Queen Ashana tugged gently on his arm, and they kept walking.

  The queen’s silk dress was filthy and torn, and her hair was knotted and unkempt, but she still wore the unmistakable air of a royal. She had gained some colour from walking in the sunshine. Marnie’s herbal brew had helped her sleep deeply, and Cookie’s improved food had taken away the pinched, unhealthy pallor that she had suffered for weeks. Indignation at Lord Lazlac’s presence now gave her even more colour and a dangerous glint in her eye. She continued to talk to Willem, reminiscing about great royal hunts in the forest of Kenley, acting as if Lord Lazlac did not exist.

  Lord Lazlac had been making his way over to where Lord Mortimer lolled on the garden bench, but he saw Queen Ashana and changed direction. He bowed slightly.

  ‘Madam,’ Lord Lazlac said with a twist of his mouth, which obviously was meant to pass for a smile. ‘Good day.’

  Queen Ashana ignored the self-appointed governor. She held herself proudly, lifting her ragged skirts out of the dust, as though concerned they may get dirty.

  Lord Lazlac flushed slightly. ‘Madam, I trust you are enjoying this beautiful spring morning,’ he growled.

  Queen Ashana kept walking.

  ‘Willem, I fear there may be something nasty in this beautiful garden,’ the Queen remarked nonchalantly. ‘I can smell quite a dreadful stench here that not even Marnie’s beautiful lavender posies could dispel. I feel quite faint.’

  Willem repressed a smile. ‘Marnie’s posies have amazing restorative power, your majesty,’ he replied.

  Lord Lazlac ground his teeth in irritation. He swung around, hoping the guards could not hear. The seven guards all stared resolutely straight ahead as if they had heard nothing.

  ‘Madam, I trust you have enjoyed your brief moments of freedom in the fresh air,’ Lazlac snapped, a little louder this time. ‘I would not want you to do or say anything that may jeopardise the small concessions you now enjoy. It would only take a word to the guards and the cooks and your life, and your friends’ lives, and your son’s life, would be very much the worse.’

  Queen Ashana stiffened. Her face went white, then grey. She stopped walking. Then a mask descended over her face – a mask of polite Tiregian royalty. She smiled with great difficulty and little warmth.

  ‘Why, Lord Lazlac,’ Queen Ashana murmured softly. ‘What a surprise to find you here. I was just telling dear Willem here that this exquisite spring morning reminds me of hunting in the beautiful forests of Kenley. We have had many happy memories there.’

  Queen Ashana’s eyes shone brightly, as if brimming with unshed tears. Even Lord Lazlac could not fail to remember that the last time Queen Ashana had been in the forests of Kenley she had lost her husband, her daughter, her son, her crown, her throne and her land. Now she was a prisoner, totally at the mercy of this man.

  ‘Ahem,’ Lord Lazlac spluttered. ‘Yes. Well, spring is a lovely time of year. Both here and in my own country of Sedah.’

  ‘I am surprised you are not distraught to be missing spring in your own, probably far more beautiful country,’ Queen Ashana continued in a voice of icy politeness.

  ‘Yes,’ Lord Lazlac choked. ‘Well – I am here on my most esteemed Emperor Raef’s orders. Once my duty is completed here, I may well be allowed to return to my home.’

  Queen Ashana glowed with sudden hope.

  ‘Pray tell, when do you think that might be?’ she asked.

  ‘I do not presume to guess my fearful emperor’s intentions, but once Tiregian is completely subdued, the people converted to the ways of Krad and the wealth of Tiregian sent back to my lord’s coffers, then my work will be done. I hope to return home in five to ten years’ time.’

  Lord Lazlac twisted his mouth once more. Queen Ashana swallowed painfully. Willem took her arm to offer her support, but Queen Ashana did not need it. She held herself more strongly than ever.

  ‘I see, my lord,’ Queen Ashana retorted quietly. ‘You seem very sure of yourself.’

  ‘I am, madam. I am,’ Governor Lazlac said complacently.

  He bowed again slightly and turned away. ‘I must have a quick word with Lord Mortma. Enjoy your promenade.’

  Queen Ashana stared after him, her brain whirring. She dared not defy this man when her child’s life and her retainers’ lives were in his brutal hands. She must try to play his game. She suddenly had a pounding headache. Her shoulders felt like she had an iron sword skewered through them.

  She watched Lord Lazlac and Lord Mortimer closely. Lord Mortimer had no doubt about who held the power at this moment. He leapt to his feet and swept a flourishing bow.

  ‘My dear Governor Lazlac,’ Lord Mortimer gushed. ‘How delightful to see you!’

  ‘Mortma,’ Lord Lazlac nodded. ‘I hear you have been hallucinating about this young princess you are besotted with. I hope the fresh air and sunshine has restored your faculties.’

  ‘I am not besotted with the princess, as you put it,’ Lord Mortimer said huffily. ‘I simply remembered the deal I made with your double-dealing master. I was to provide you with information on where to find the king unprotected. You were to kill the king, invade and take over Tiregian. I was to marry the snotty-nosed brat of a spoilt princess, Roana. Then I was to rule as king on behalf of your master.’

  Lord Mortimer scowled. ‘Instead I find myself locked up for weeks in a dungeon, fed on pig slops and nibbled by rats. I have not even had a clean shirt for weeks. This was not the deal I made with Raef.’

  ‘You will refer to the emperor as his most fearful majesty Emperor Raef,’ Lord Lazlac retorted. ‘Well, things did not go exactly to plan. The princess was killed by a sea monster, and I have had to make other plans.’

  Lord Lazlac glanced over at Queen Ashana, who was now walking around the garden perimeter with Marnie, discussing their favourite subject – their respective children.

  ‘In times of war, one must make contingency plans,’ Governor Lazlac smirked.

  ‘But the Princess Roana is not dead,’ exclaimed Lord Mortimer. ‘I saw her with my own eyes. She was disguised as a beggar child. She was with some other beggar children who swore they were on a quest to find the Sun Sword of Tiregian.’

  Lord Lazlac sniggered.

  ‘
Ridiculous, I know,’ Mortimer replied. ‘But the princess is alive, and I demand you find her and keep your side of the bargain.’

  ‘Demand?’ Lord Lazlac laughed. ‘I think you are forgetting who holds the keys to your dungeon. You are in no position to demand anything, Mortma. I will overlook this outburst of yours. But do not try my patience. I hope you enjoy your time in the sunshine. It will not last long.’

  Lord Lazlac nodded shortly, then swept out of the garden. Lord Mortimer sank back on his garden bench, chewing the corner of one nail. Perhaps he had miscalculated. Perhaps he had made a terrible mistake.

  He shook himself. No. He had made a deal with Emperor Raef and surely it would be honoured. They just had to find that irritating brat of a princess. Then everything would be as he had dreamed. King of Tiregian. Aaah – life would be good then.

  The beautiful weather and fair winds did not hold. The breeze disappeared for six whole days, leaving the Owl wallowing in an oily sea. The sun beat down mercilessly.

  The ship’s bell still rang every four hours to mark the change in watch, but there was no wind and little to do. Someone was always on watch for Sedah ships, but the horizon stayed flat and bare.

  Otto muttered and cursed, glaring at Lily as if at an evil snake. Lily avoided him as much as possible.

  During the heat of the day, Fox set them to making a large store of customised fire arrows. These arrows had a large tuft of flax, soaked in pitch, attached behind the arrow head.

  Fox amused himself by teaching Saxon and Ethan navigation using the ship’s brass compass, which was housed in the binnacle by the ship’s steering wheel.

  ‘Look, the needle always swings back to the north, so we can find our way home again. Sedah and the Nine Isles are to the south, so the opposite direction,’ Fox explained. ‘And this is an astrolabe, which we use to take an angle between the horizon and a star or planet. The heaving log tells me how fast we are sailing – not that we are going anywhere right now.’

  Roana’s fair skin burned and blistered under the hot sun and started to peel off in white sheets. The others turned brown. With all the salt water and sunshine, Roana’s hair started to bleach back to a dark blonde.