"What do you want, crewman?" he asked, already thinking of the lies he would use.
"We want you to settle an argument. I say it's better to serve under a male, even if he is more brutal, than under a female, because they strive to show authority at all times." Haddad took several moments because none of his ready answers addressed this unlikely question from a slave.
"I believe that Latulla is a special case, and it would be unfair to consider her as representative of her gender." Haddad tried to sound respectful of his mistress, but his eyes watched the unfortunate steward that the captain had appointed to wait on Latulla. Bruises and a general furtive-ness gave the man a hunted look as he waited on deck to put off talking to Latulla as long as possible. He had tried to switch positions with the other sailors, but so far he had no takers.
"You're right. It wouldn't be fair to use her as an example. She has special demands upon her as part of her position." Each excuse was more forced than the last; each trying to overlook the fact that Latulla was unusually cruel even in a race that rewarded such cruelty.
"Usually women give lots of verbal abuse and scut work. When clear of military duty, a woman may have warriors underneath her, but very few males are capable of much outside of military action." The sailor spoke with the knowledge of experience evident in his voice, and Haddad took a chance to learn more before he left the Keldon world.
"Why don't we see more women then? Almost all of the bosses are male, regardless of the activity they oversee." Haddad had not considered it unusual, but he did not see the Keldons as anything but monsters most of the time. Trying to see them as a race or people was painful and jarring. "Where are all the women if they are so skilled?"
"Haddad, the town you left is a military base. Military action is the provenance of males. Our captain and officers are male because this is a combat area." The sailor smiled smugly as he revealed his superior knowledge. "Furthermore, this incursion is not totally supported by the Keldon nation. Most of the warriors are of inferior status and from secondary clans. The males you see commanding work details are from clans too poor to maintain a proper distribution of work between males and females. But if the loads we bring in are as rich as the one we're hauling now, there will be serious interest in colonizing."
Every time Haddad ran into slaves who supported or approved of the Keldon cause, he wondered what flaw warped their minds. Ignorant as he was of Keldon culture, he was sure that human males sat at the bottom, and that made him even more determined to escape and fight for the League.
It was late afternoon before Haddad found free time. Latulla ordered him to repack several crates they had hurriedly loaded to make the sailing date. The inventory was blatantly incorrect, and Haddad considered the man who packed it lucky indeed to avoid Latulla's grasp by staying on land. Of course, any mistake that Latulla could not instantly address tended to fester. Only a shipwreck would stop a sure reckoning upon her return. The artificer even designed a new loading scheme, so Haddad had to draft several crewmen throughout the day to dig crates out of tight quarters.
Haddad was taking a break on deck. Not a large risk because a meal would be served soon, and Latulla preferred to be in her quarters when the deck was crowded with men.
The helmsman and officers were in the raised stern, and Haddad wondered how much longer he could escape notice. The crew was taking a break, and each man had his cup ready as the galley workers brought up buckets of beer. Fumash was near the rail and looking over the sea. As Haddad approached, several sailors started a round of singing as their ration of spirits was distributed. Haddad had lived on coffee and weak beer for most of his life, but the strength of the spirits the crewmen routinely consumed was a source of amazement.
Fumash threw a bucket on a line into the water and drew it back up. He carefully poured a little from the bucket into his fresh water ration.
"I thought drinking seawater would kill you," Haddad said.
"You can add seawater to fresh water to stretch out your supplies as long as you dilute enough. Besides, it's a convenient source of salt." Fumash added to the concoction a small portion of spirits and then drank the mixture down. "Tastes as bad as always," he said with a smile.
Haddad could see hints of white teeth and wondered if the drinking was scouring away the deposits left by Fumash's nut habit. It would certainly be more difficult to procure a supply of them if they arrived at Keld.
"The captain doesn't look too concerned about League airships," ventured Haddad.
The ship commander was talking to Druik. The huge Keldon was on deck without the customary armor of a war leader, though the spike and long blades on his artificial limbs certainly gave him a martial air.
"He has to look brave under a war leader's eyes," Fumash replied. "We are heading northeast and should be outside the regular patrol areas. By tomorrow it will be just navigation watches, and we'll turn to the northwest the day after. It should still be calm if we are lucky." There was no wind, and the sails hung slackly. Those crewmen with needle skills worked their way through the ship's sails and signal flags. Maintenance had lagged, and Haddad wondered why. The ship glided forward slowly and without sound over the still sea.
"So we change course tomorrow," Haddad said, nodding slightly at the boat only a few feet away.
"As long as we are not spotted we should make a clean break." Fumash was growing nervous and stood with the bucket in hand. "How about a little sea water to cut your liquor ration?" He threw the bucket over, and it hit with a splat rather than a splash.
"What the hell is that?" The customs man was leaning over the side and sounded so puzzled that Haddad and another sailor looked over the side as well.
The water shimmered with faint glints of color, as if a sheen of oil lay on the water. It was a thick patch that the ship had hit in only the last few minutes. It was a large slick, and Haddad thought it strange that none of the lookouts spotted it. Perhaps it was common enough that only a landlubber or coastal sailor would be surprised by its appearance. The sailor's reaction put that theory to rest.
"Captain!" he yelled in a near falsetto, "we're on a gastro-jelly!" His cry sparked a round of confirmations as the various lookouts turned their eyes from the sky to the water about the ship.
The captain took only seconds to look over the side and then started shouting orders. "Change course hard to port! All hands fetch boarding pikes and prepare for jelly drill! Cook!" he shouted as the first serving of hot food was brought on deck, "start boiling soap! We've jelly to deal with!"
The cook dumped the rations on the deck and hurried into the galley, screaming orders to his assistant as he went. Haddad turned to the sailor who was sweating and holding a boarding pike.
"What is going on?" He looked at the water. The colors were now rushing toward the hull, and deeper, more-vibrant colors were starting to well up from the depths. The sailor seemed calm but expectant.
"It's a gastro-jelly, a type of jellyfish larger than the ship." He shook his pike at the disturbance under the water. "Right now it's turning over so it can use its tentacles. If the course change doesn't break us free, we'll be scraping it off the sides in a few moments." Haddad had seen monster attacks, but this one was so leisurely that he had a hard time feeling any fear. Fumash was confused as well, and Haddad was pleased not to be alone in his ignorance.
"Why haven't I heard of it if it is so dangerous?" Haddad asked as he took a pike.
Lord Druik was shouting and making the rounds of the railings as well. The words were forceful exhalations and grunts that Haddad couldn't make out, but the exhortations served to energize the Keldon crew. Each touch of Druik's hand as he walked left a more confident warrior behind.