“We’re entering Grumpy’s territory. Be cautious, Captain,” Sheila indicated.
“Is this safe?” My‑re asked from the aft section of the Nightie by the navigation wheel.
Lady Sheila Greywand clasped My‑re’s shoulder, gave a slight squeeze of reassurance, and nodded. She descended a short flight of steps and announced moving through her contingent of Primus Lord Protectors from her elite Tower Guard. “I need every sconce and lantern lit just south of risking fire to the trireme. I require enough light so the gods in the heavens could find us if they looked down.”
My‑re prayed to the gods of the plains that Sheila knew what she was doing. She stretched and went into a tired yawn. Her eyes watered and slightly burned with fatigue. Rubbing them and then looking at the stars in the nighttime sky, she regretted not napping earlier in the day. It would be a long night. However, a nice cool breeze blew, and it wasn’t humid on the lake, so at least her short, dark hair wouldn’t go flat. Waves lapped against the hull with a soothing rhythm.
Ssskah purred, coming up to My‑re. Her eyes reflected in the nearby light, giving off a creepy glow usually seen from cats in the bushes hunting prey. “I would think a stealthier approach would be better.”
My‑re thought the same thing as the Lord Protectors followed Sheila’s orders. Wait until the beast presents itself. However, since the creature would likely search for prey underwater, they might not even see an attack. Using light to draw it to us made sense, but it did little to ease her nervous stomach.
As more and more lanterns were lit, the illumination soon caused the crew to squint, and even the heat from the torch sconces caused sweat droplets to fall from My‑re’s armpits. Lady Greywand re-joined them at the navigation wheel.
“Hold this position,” Sheila said. “I don’t aim to travel too deep into Grumpy’s hunting grounds.”
“All stop!” Captain Phetmolge ordered with an unexpectedly deep, stirring basso voice that lent gravel and gravitas to his tone that bellowed forth.
My‑re took a double-take at the captain when he heard him. “Is that your real voice?”
Captain Phetmolge nodded.
The oars ceased, raised, and locked into place. The sails were drawn up and tied down. Soon, the Nightie drifted on the Lake of Mists. The only sounds were dripping water from the oars, the crackling wood from nearby torches, and waves licking against the hull.
“Lady Greywand, in this part of the lake, there is a concern about drifting into a shallow reef,” Phetmolge said.
“Understood, Captain.”
“Shall I release the anchor?”
“Leave it resting. Speed may be necessary to pursue the creature, so maintain position.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
A few more hours passed, and the contingent of Lord Protectors’ attention completely focused on the lake. Every third man held an oversized fishing pole with its line in the water. My‑re walked among them, but the lake’s thick mist and the brightness of the lanterns limited her vision out to sea and caused her to sneeze twice. She felt bored and useless and decided to proceed below deck to see if the rowers and fellow Lord Protectors wanted anything to drink. At least she could make some coin while they waited.
The lower ceiling, the lack of windows, and confined wooden quarters held the odor of mildew and now feet quite well. Lanterns hung from ceiling beams, providing ample light. The men and women Lord Protectors were milling about below deck. Several played cards, rolled dice, a few arm-wrestled, and tested each other in feats of strength, while some sharpened weapons with whetstones. They were all from the Talahya arena and slightly more relaxed and less disciplined than the Primus Lord Protectors above.
“Ah, the scullery maid has finally come to serve us drinks,” Rao said, standing. This brought a few chuckles. “Put a smile on that frowning face and bring me some grog.”
My‑re did not smile sauntering up to him. The troop turned their attention to her, and some made room.
“I did not become the Blood Game champion of Valamantis by smiling. I did not become a Lord Protector of Alastari by smiling. I did not get to where I am today by smiling. I am not in this world to be some objectification for the male gaze and look pretty for your benefit. I work for my coin, and this ‘scullery maid’ is serving you last, if at all,” My‑re said, then poked him hard in the chest.
The force caused Rao to lean back and slightly lose his balance, which caused laughs from the protectors.
Rao looked at his chest in disbelief and then at her. Regaining his composure and rubbing the point of impact, he said, “By the gods, woman, you are stronger than you appear.”
My‑re narrowed her eyes, watching for a ploy.
“Smarts, strength, and sass are things I admire and welcome by my side. This mighty Rirorni warrior will serve you a drink tonight,” Rao said.
A few protectors gave nods of approval at the averted confrontation. The room went back to their regular gambling and drinking ways.
An hour passed, the rowers had been served, and everyone’s spirits below deck were good. This included My‑re’s coin purse. Loud laughter, drinking songs, and sea chanties were underway, some with language fit for only the worst taverns. Even Tim the Enchanter, who had been sulking in a corner, had a drink in hand and wore an oversized smile. My‑re and the others were having the time of their lives until...
“Enjoying ourselves, are we?” Lady Sheila Greywand asked, descending the creaking stairs.
The room fell quiet, and all activity ceased. It was as if their mother had entered their room while they were doing things they shouldn’t be doing.
Lady Greywand walked through the hull, looking at the Lord Protectors to her left and right. A few moved when she advanced. Tim the Enchanter began scowling disapprovingly at the others’ activities as he hid his mug behind him. She approached a makeshift bar, reached for a shot glass, set it down, and picked up another cleaner one. She grabbed a bottle, examined it, and asked, “Grog?”
Rao nodded.
Pouring herself a helping, she downed it. Her eyes went slightly wide in bewilderment at the taste, and then she set the glass down slowly. She didn’t pour another.
“Your pardon, Lady Greywand, were we making too much noise?” Rao asked.
“Considering the ruckus was heard above deck, through the thick hull and water…” Sheila’s voice trailed off as her eyes turned upward in thought. She slammed her boot into the hull floor, and a dull thud reverberated under it. She repeated it a second time. Pausing, she continued, “Carry on.”
Sheila smiled to herself and stomped her boot a third time on the floor with a dull, echoing thud.
This time, another brasher, THUD, answered back. The room went silent.
Sheila hit her boot to the floor again, but softer than before.
The thud answered back. It repeated. The wood in the hull bulged.
A splash emanated from above the deck.
“Man overboard! I think it’s Spymaster Edward!”
A moment later, a scream. Another resounding splash quickly silenced it.
The thunder of numerous footsteps rained down from the ceiling above the deck. Ssskah appeared at the top of the stairs.
“We’re under attack!”