"We'll need to check the bottom one just to be sure." The mate pointed to a single crate with a complete circle with two crates on top of it. He ordered two more crew to replace the sailors working with Haddad. Even for a race with gray skin, the two sailors looked listless. The mate did not relieve Haddad however, and the captured League soldier leaned against an open crate, trying not to collapse.
Haddad couldn't muster the energy to think as he threw the last series of catches. When the lid opened, he looked on in confusion at the contents. The "body" had arms and legs and a head, but it wasn't alive. There were weapons and pieces of armor in the crate, but it was no Keldon warrior. Despite the brick colored skin that covered muscles and bones, Haddad was unsure if the figure had ever been alive. The body's skin looked like leather and was tightly drawn. The joints were swollen and the hands were a collection of walnuts strung together. The head was enclosed in a helmet, and Haddad felt his gorge momentarily rise. The body had no lower jaw, and Haddad felt sick at the thought of such an injury. But the skin and lines of the neck showed no trace of injury. Finally, the eyes were spheres of glass or crystal, and they stared out of lidless sockets. Haddad looked to the mate in confusion, and the officer advanced to get a better look at the contents.
"A war manikin?" he exclaimed. "Why would anyone put a war manikin in a stasis box?" He stooped and looked over the humanoid device in puzzlement. Haddad gnawed at the inside of his cheeks, trying to wake up, to get a close look. The mate stopped Haddad's inspection as he closed the box, taking the lever from Haddad's hand to throw the latches shut.
"One of the warriors in stasis must have decided to bring it home with him," the mate said out loud. "Actually a clever way to smuggle it back to Keld if he can get around the wake up ceremony when we reach port." He motioned for the crew to secure the crates again with the cargo net and bolt. "We'll leave it alone. None of our business, anyway."
The crew was finished, and finally they all trooped up onto the deck. Haddad realized that night must have fallen hours ago, but he had lost track of time as lanterns were lit, and the work moved farther and farther into the depths of the hold. His exhaustion clouded his mind.
"The captain and the artificer have retired," the sailor standing watch informed them as they stumbled around in the darkness. "They'll take reports in the morning." Haddad was thankful and followed the rest of the crew to bed.
Haddad lay in his hammock minutes later, dreaming of the gastro-jelly eating and dissolving men until only a crippled Lord Druik was left, surrounded by ranks of what the mate named war manikins.
The morning found Haddad barely aware but already ordered to report to Latulla. He was surprised to find the morning half gone and most of the company on deck standing beside empty stasis boxes. Many of the Keldon warriors who came aboard with Lord Druik were in armor and standing ready as if for battle. Haddad checked the horizon for signs of an enemy, but nothing was visible. It seemed a perfect day. The captain cleared his throat and addressed the company.
"We took several casualties in the battle yesterday, but the ship has survived due to your efforts. I am proud to have you aboard as my crew." Hollow cheers sounded, but most were exhausted from the battle and its aftermath, and enthusiasm was lacking in their voices.
"In spite of your bravery we still lost a substantial part of our cargo, and so we will all have to work harder and make some sacrifices." He looked to the horizon and spoke in a more serious tone. "We were carrying supplies for the ships we are to meet in three days. Keld needs those ships sailing and raiding in these waters. They can't withdraw to resupply without jeopardizing important plans. So to provide them with what they need we will have to transfer part of our own rations." A low murmur sprang up, but none of the crew seemed particularly surprised or upset.
"We've neither the funds nor time to buy or raid for more, so we will have to consume less." He gestured to the stasis boxes. "We will put as many in stasis as we can. When we meet the fleet, we will take on their empty boxes and sail with as small a crew as possible. Lord Druik has volunteered to be first."
Haddad doubted that Druik had spoken since the battle. High-ranking Keldons almost never entered the boxes because of the danger and loss of control that they experienced. It was means of cramming low-level warriors into ships and restraining supply costs, but pride overrode the economics. The crew murmured again in real surprise at the thought of a lord willing to endure a process that they were happy to avoid.
When Fumash backed out of the cabin holding one end of a hatch cover, Haddad realized that the captain was serious and that Druik had survived through the night. Fumash and the crewmen helping him used the cut hatch as a crude stretcher. Once they were out of the hatchway, Haddad could see that the Keldon war leader had grown easier to carry. Fumash had amputated the leg, and Druik's remaining arm looked foreshortened as well, though the layers of bandages made an accurate assessment impossible. The fallen hero was still insensate, and Haddad hoped he stayed that way. He couldn't imagine waking up with his limbs gone. He was frankly surprised that someone had not eased Druik's passage into the next life already.
"Bring him here." Latulla was standing beside the first open box. A burning censer and several bottles rested on a table moved up on deck. She was clad in her finest robes, and she laid a gold-embossed cane on the table. She began to arrange the ingredients.
Fumash and the others shuffled up to the box, and at Latulla's wave, two of Druik's armed retainers advanced and slid his shrunken form into the box.
"To sleep in the dreamless void," Latulla intoned as she opened a bottle and placed it between Druik's slack lips. The lord coughed as the liquid poured into his mouth and into his lungs. Latulla was muttering before he finally swallowed a proper dose.
"He shall need no nourishment for a year and day." Latulla forced a second bottle and gave the lord a draught. Haddad could see the form stilling as each second passed. Finally, Latulla was satisfied that Druik was under. Haddad wondered how difficult it was to figure the proper doses for a man without limbs.
"Finally, protection from decay, from the mouths of worms and the companions of the dead." Latulla picked up the censer and then looked at the flags and emblems on the masts to evaluate the direction of the wind. She shifted to keep the wind at her back and raised the censer. The crew shifted away from the path of the smoke, Haddad following and trying to move to the front of the group for a better view.
Latulla hesitated and then waved Fumash closer. Haddad managed to reach the front rank and could hear her as she whispered to Lord Druik's personal slave.
"The bandages need to be cut and more of the flesh exposed." She handed him a small knife and motioned him to begin. Fumash bent over the still form of his master and began cutting through the wrappings that he had so carefully tied over his master's wounds. Druik was totally removed from time but there was still fresh blood soaking in the pads placed over his wounds. Haddad turned his eyes and counted the boxes awaiting bodies. Almost thirty were open, and Haddad wondered how many more would be filled after they reached the supply point. At last, Fumash finished his task and stepped back from Druik.