Voreth hated the night watch.
But then he supposed that everyone
hated the night watch, which was why he always got saddled with it.
Pacing back and forth in the cramped confines of the lookout fighting
down the urge to stamp some life back into his feet for fear of punching
through the flimsy wooden floor. Instead he pressed his back against
the mast clamped his gloved hands in his armpits and continued staring
out into the night with naught but the roar of the wind and the groan of
the ships timbers for company.
Not for the first time that
night he cursed the captain’s decision to press on through the foul
weather in the dead of night. Any child who had spent more than a single
tour of duty on ship knew that traveling under such conditions was an
invitation for disaster. It would be frighteningly easy for them to
drift off course and find themselves running aground and it was that
thought that chilled him more deeply than the wind and kept him awake
and watchful. Though by the First the wind was biting cold, cutting him
to the bone even through every layer of clothing he had been able to
beg, borrow or steal from the crew. The scarf he had wrapped about his
face was near solid the moisture on his breath lacing it with ice.
Just
as he began to weigh the benefits of walking another three foot circuit
of his tiny domain they broke from a bank of cloud and a distant light
appeared on the horizon. With a resentful groan Voreth straighten and,
rubbing frost from the lenses, raised the spy glass to his eye. He
twisted the brass tube, fingers made clumsy by the thick material, and
the image came into focus. A pale blue light gently pulsed in the
distance.
The light of home.
Hauling down the threadbare
woollen scarf he ran a hand across his bearded face wiping away the
moisture and clearing his throat with a hacking cough and raising his
voice
“Beacon sited! Beacon sited to starboard! Rouse yourself boys!
Homes in sight and much as we all love her I want off this block frozen
wood before she cracks beneath me!”
Immediately he heard the bell
tolling on the deck proper and the thunder of feet as the crew swung
into action preparing the Gull for docking. He grabbed the rope and set
to climbing his way up the inverse mast, smoothly scaling hand over hand
with the speed and ease of an ape. Reaching the gentle curve of the
hull he pushed off from the mast catching a rope running alongside the
side of the ice coated wood. For a long terrible moment he dangled there
in the open air hands locked about that one slim strand with nothing
beneath him but the fluttering canvas and the sheer drop down into the
icy void. Then he tensed his arms, swung himself first one way then the
other building up momentum and speed. With a grunt he struck the timbers
bodily his feet catching and clinging to the wood as though his feet
were lined with nails. Then he was off again scaling the belly of the
Gull with the alarming speed and surety of a hull runner passing the
port mast where she protrudes from the woodwork.
Vaulting over the rail he came to rest on the deck with a heavy thump.
He
crossed towards the helm darting between the running crew members and
hopping over piles of coiled ropes as the cargo and its securing lines
were checked and double checked again. He came to a halt as the captain
strode out on deck to take his place alongside the helmsmen.
“Report boy.”
“Sir.
Wanders light spotted off the starboard side no more than a league
distant. Apologises for the late notice sir. Damn near impossible to see
through the cloud cover at this hour…..”
The hand came up making a sharp chopping motion to cut him off
“I’ve
no need nor time for your excuses boy. I am well aware of the
conditions but we have our orders. You and the others get out there on
the rigging and light the lamps we’re expecting company on the approach.
Felks” He snapped turning his attention to the helmsmen “bring us in on
an angle of descent. Sound bells and steer us to twelve degrees down
plane.”
Even before the bells sounded the warning Voreth was
grabbing for support as the deck pitched forward at a sudden steep angle
the Gull heading down towards harbour. After a few moments he regained
his balance and grabbing a lantern scurried off towards the rigging
letting loose a series of shrill whistles setting his counter parts into
motion. Running out along the port mast swiftly and hanging the lantern
from its mounting point. Looking about he sees the other points of
light igniting marking the outer edges of the ship.
Looking out
into the night the beacon light of Wander is growing brighter now. The
tiny point of light has already expanded a hundred fold filling the
horizon. Around him he can see other lights drifting through the night
marking the place of other ships. He started counting. Two, eight, a
dozen, two dozen. He pauses in his work as it sinks in. The marker
lights are swarming about the approach at all angles. Damn near the
whole fleet must in at harbour or on patrol around the perimeter. What
the hell was going on here? It was unheard of for so many of the trade
fleet to be at port at once.
“Boy! Get your ass in gear and stop stargazing!”
Shaken
from his revelry by the captains booming voice Voreth near fell from
his perch his hands darted out to steady himself. The final approach had
begun the Gull slipping between the outer markers the towering shards
of jagged float stone slipping past in the night, a wall of gentling
glowing crystalline rock less than a dozen meters away and ahead rising
up like a mountain the city of Wander.
