"You'll have a job here as long as you want it," she replied, trying to sound businesslike, though she was giddy that he was asking to stay on long-term. "I should be the one to pay them back, though. Any money you earn is yours to keep." She paused and bit her bottom lip. "I should warn you, Fritz, sometimes a good bit of time goes by between paydays on the Perechon. We haven't had a lot of luck landing decent assignments."
"My friends will understand," he said softly. "Besides, after we get your father back, this ship's luck will change. Fortune could blow your way."
"Fritzen!" Koraf bellowed at him from the bow. The minotaur was motioning toward the bowsprit.
The half-ogre sighed. He was enjoying Maquesta's company, and he would have liked to stay with her a bit longer. "I told him I'd strengthen the bowsprit," Fritz said. "Your first mate is an able seaman, but I don't think he fancies tasks that might land him in the water."
"Minotaurs can swim," Maq replied laughing. "Very well in fact. But they are not the fastest of swimmers. Besides, you're the agile one. He's picking the right man for the job. That's the mark of a good first mate."
The half-ogre flashed her a wide grin, saluted, and dashed toward the bow.
For nearly two hours Maq fought the constant pull southward, toward the inner rings of the Maelstrom. An icy rain began to fall, and the sky erupted with thunder and lightening. Maq was about to call for help when she saw Koraf mounting the steps leading to the upper aft deck. He nodded to her by way of greeting, ever slightly formal. When he motioned that he would take over the helm, she gladly gave it up. As she had in Attat's dungeon, Maquesta felt she could trust this particular minotaur. Maq remained near the helm to ascertain that Koraf could indeed handle the wheel in this weather. She felt gratified at the level of skill he displayed.
After a few bad hours, the Perechon broke away from the pull of the Outer Reach, heading more directly northward, toward the port of Sea Reach. Just after they made the break, Maq spied a black sail on the horizon far behind them. Now and then during the course of that afternoon, she caught sight of it again. The sail could belong to only one ship, the Butcher, captained by the vile Mandracore the Reaver. Mandracore was the one true enemy Melas, and by extension Maquesta, had among those who sailed the Blood Sea regularly. He nursed an old grievance, something about how he and Melas had divided treasure they had scavenged from a sinking merchant vessel many years earlier.
The Butcher's initial appearance troubled her. The fact that it seemed to be following the Perechon deepened that feeling. However, even though the Perechon was not sailing in top form, the Butcher never drew any closer that day. They sailed into the Sea Reach harbor as the sun set, and Maq put that particular worry aside.
Maquesta summoned several crewmembers after dinner that night. Hoping to keep their stay in Sea Reach to one day, or at the most two, Maquesta doled out various responsibilities. She and Lendle would go to the marketplace for foodstuffs and miscellaneous items, where she hoped their ingenuity at making money stretch would carry the day, since there were very few coins left in Attat's pouch to stretch. Fritzen would go to the shipyard to obtain a special compound designed to reinforce the mainmast, which, though not showing any cracks, had been subjected to a great deal of stress lately. After that, he promised to visit some friends and see if he could get enough coins to replace the largest sails. Hvel and Vartan would purchase the water. The assignments taken care of, Maq retired to her cabin for a nap. Sleep was a requirement, for she was to take over watch duty from Fritzen later that night.
Stars filled the sky and the air was still balmy when Maq relieved the half-ogre. He stayed on deck with her for several minutes, discussing the weather, the designs for the Perechon, and how the crew had fallen into an easy rhythm with a minotaur first mate. "Sailors are usually a skeptical lot," she told him. "But they are an accepting lot, also. There's a kinship about the sea that tends to erase racial boundaries. I knew they would eventually like Koraf."
Fritz's lips tugged upward into a smile. "And are you so accepting of other races, too, Maquesta?"
She hoped the handsome half-ogre did not see her blush. "I accept everyone until they've wronged me," she said simply. "You should get some sleep. Our day in port will come very quickly."
Maq settled in next to the helm, pondering her strategy for capturing the morkoth, trying not to worry too much about Melas, and working to keep her mind off Fritzen Dorgaard. She didn't like the idea that he was occupying a lot of her thoughts. A captain has to keep her mind on the ship, she told herself.
She must have dozed for a few minutes, for she woke to someone gently shaking her shoulder.
"I do not sleep well most nights," said Koraf. "I would be happy to take this watch duty so you can get more rest."
"That's quite all right," Maq said defensively. Then, sensing the minotaur was not judging her, she added, "But I could use some company, and if you're not sleeping perhaps you'd oblige me on that."
Receiving no reply, and concerned that she had somehow offended him, Maq simply began talking. She talked about growing up on the Perechon, about the first time Melas allowed her to take the helm, about spotting the Butcher earlier in the day, about virtually anything that popped into her head. Gradually, she sensed Koraf relaxing.
"And what about you, Kof?" Maq asked, genuinely curious. "How did you learn to sail?"
Koraf remained silent. She wondered if he had fallen asleep. Finally, under the cover provided by the darkness, he began to talk.
Chapter 9
"For as long as I can remember, I have been fashioning boats from leaves, small pieces of wood and now, of course, solid lumber," Koraf told Maquesta. His resonant voice was soft, perhaps so no one else would overhear him.
"Because of that, when I was still very young, my family secured an apprenticeship for me with Efroth, the best shipbuilder in Nethosak. I do not come from a noble or well-connected family, so it was a very good apprenticeship, one of which I was very proud. Efroth had a thriving business, and four of us started with him at the same time-me, Diro, Thuu, and Phao. We studied and worked under him for many years, learning not only shipbuilding and design, but sailing as well. He taught us about the currents, weather patterns, how to spot an approaching storm by looking at the clouds and feeling the air upon our skin.
"I am not a braggart, and I have never considered myself arrogant, but I was his best student. The others recognized it and turned to me for help at times, all of them except for Diro. He was jealous, and he did nothing to hide his feelings. He began to try to shame me in front of Efroth by doing things that made my work look inferior, when my work clearly was not. Still, I knew I was good, and so did Efroth, so Diro's attempts to shame me did nothing except shame him.
"For a dozen years I learned and worked, worked and learned. That is not such a long time, Maquesta. You spent more than that many years at your father's side learning. It was a happy time in my life, and perhaps I was the happiest I have ever been when I was working with him. I owed him a great deal.
"Finally, it came time for us apprentices to set off on our own, and for Efroth to take in a new group. The next group would be his last, he claimed, for he was getting old and wanted time to himself. We each had to pass a final test in order to be certified as qualified shipbuilders. The test was to design and construct a sailing vessel, then sail it alone through a special course Efroth had set up off the coast. He would accompany each of us so he could observe and grade us.