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.
Latulla must have added something to the censer while Haddad was lost in thought. The censer boiled over like a kettle on the fire, and the smoke poured over the sides like water, filling the stasis box and hiding Druik from view. Some smoke lapped over the sides of the box and seemed to crawl like a snake over the deck before collapsing and disappearing. Latulla grew irritated as crew tried to avoid the excess vapor. If there was more to this internment ceremony, she cut it short and swung the heavy box lid closed. Fumash threw the final latches.
"His guards will follow him into sleep now." Latulla waved the guards forward as a group and there were no more words as she processed them all at once. Each guard drank from a bottle and then quickly lay down in his new home. Latulla went down the line, forcing the second potion between their lips. Haddad could hear the bottle jamming and levering against teeth as Latulla acted with her customary regard for others. Then she stoked the censer till smoke geysered out. She walked it up and down the line of boxes as if watering a flowerbed, and finally the guards were closed up in their boxes.
"It is fitting that Druik's servants travel with him."
Fumash froze as other slaves advanced to stand before empty boxes. Latulla gripped him by the throat and sharply struck his hand with the base of a potion bottle. The knife he used to cut Druik's bandages fell to the deck. Haddad could only watch the surprise spreading slowly over Fumash's exhausted features as the potion poured down his throat. Latulla pushed him into an open box, and he fell into oblivion. Latulla administered the doses, and Druik and his entire household were sealed up.
There were still a few open boxes, and from the restlessness of the crew, it was obvious that a new crop of bodies was going to be laid to rest. The captain walked toward the group and drew out the unwilling volunteers by touching their arms and pushing them toward the open boxes. A mate selected crew to transfer the full boxes to the hold. Latulla called Haddad forward. He advanced, but his eyes were locked on the boxes as he walked closer. Latulla smacked his head with her cane from the table. After his vision cleared, she thrust a small container of paint and a brush into his hands.
"Check the latches, and use the paint to close the circles." She turned to process the crew waiting for her and her potions. Haddad knelt down by Druik's box and checked it thoroughly. He dipped the brush into the inky black paint and closed the circle at the box's end. He went down the line of boxes quickly but paused when he came to the one containing Fumash. All of their plans had been ruined by this mischance. When they first plotted to escape, Haddad had expected to taste freedom tonight. Now his chances were much slimmer. He didn't know sailing or the surrounding waters, but he must make the break alone. Fumash was going to Keld, as surely as a doomed soul sank into the underworld. Haddad continued past his friend and soon caught up to Latulla. The last few crewmen waited to be processed, and Haddad was surprised to see Latulla's personal steward from the ship's crew among them. He was smiling-the first happy man Haddad had seen lowered into a box. Haddad thought sourly that he would be waiting on his mistress now and understood the man's happiness. The fading bruises Latulla had provided the steward stood out against his pallor as Latulla finished administering the second draught. The censer streamed smoke, and Haddad swung the lid closed on the steward. The captain approached Latulla as Haddad closed the latches and prepared to close the circle with an arc of paint.