Someone Else's Kingdom, BOOK I - Chapter 58

Were it not for the sheer stench of blood on the Sleight they would have scuttled the Arbowlan and continued their journey on that. A smaller ship being more manageable for such a meagre crew. Just six men, including the young boy, seven, if they included the ship's pilot. However, the state of the Sleight made such a prospect untenable. Plus, the sentimental attachment Essen had for the Arbowlan was just too great a pull. In consequence, they now had a struggle, whichever way they were heading. They loaded the Arbowlan with everything they deemed of value, then sent the smaller vessel to the ocean floor. A wooden casket, burying at sea the numerous dead it still contained.

Even after all this loss and carnage, and still with the gaping wound on the side of his face, Acalee was eager to head forwards into the unknown though. He'd charted so much new territory, but there was still a great mystery.

"If we turn around and head north we could come into contact with more Tunidan ships," he proffered, attempting to make a case for continuing on, "Which we certainly won't be able to fight off this time."

The others, simply relieved to still be alive, didn't quite have the wherewithal to dispute him. The young boy from the Sleight was happy to keep going, his optimism unabated, but the rest were unmoved. Even Essen was more pensive than usual. On one hand they'd come so far already, and what lay beyond was too enticing to turn back. On the other, it seemed foolish and almost certain suicide to wander on. The journey home in such dire circumstances seeming almost equally daunting, but at least offering the dream of familiar sanctuary.

"It's futile whichever option we choose," interjected the ship's pilot, his clothes and visage still immaculate in comparison to the others, "Whatever we do now we'll be killed or captured. We may as well just head back towards Tunida and hand ourselves in."

Essen felt incensed that the ship's pilot had even spoken, and, in the weary moment, finally lost his patience. Racing over, he grabbed him by the neck, then dragged him across the deck and hit him hard in the face. In his wild rage he considered killing the Tunidan pilot there and then. A fate he felt would have been perfectly deserved given the continual lies and actions, but somehow he pulled himself back. He cast the pilot down to the hard floor, then headed back over to Acalee and the others, who would have done nothing if he'd followed his instinct and killed him dead. The ship's pilot picked himself up and went and sat behind the wall of the cabin, out of sight of the others, checking for blood from his nose and lip with his hand, as he considered the fate he was now shackled to.

"We may as well head on forward then," intoned Essen, the suggestion of handing themselves in kindling enough belly fire to make him want to press on further. "We'll discover where this passage leads - or die trying, I guess. Then with luck we'll get back home with an incredible tale to tell." He looked up at the blue and green Brynnyfirdian flag that still fluttered, luminously, from the top of the mast. "We can drop this Tunidan back on his own island when we pass, if we haven't thrown him overboard first."

The brave crew then cast sail once again and headed further into the heat.