Chapter 5

"The Outlander is going to be the death of us all," Monch said as he glared around the men's berthing hold, daring anyone to contradict him. He was the ship's fisticuffs champion; barring the Captain's son, he was the biggest man on the Arabella. Most knew not to argue with Monch unless they wished for a beating. "Everyone knows that death and misery follow anyone who comes through one of the portals."

Several men were clustered around him and others lounged in bunks mounted on the ship's hull and stacked four high all the way around the hold. Monch sat in the open area in the center where the men diced, played cards, and amused themselves in other ways when not on duty. A few nodded their heads at Monch's words while others looked worried.

"You should stop spreading fear and trust the Captain's judgment," Charuk said from where he lounged on his bunk. A few of the men groaned, knowing that the young sailor was asking for trouble. "You forget that the Outlander helped save the ship from the Kraken."

Monch turned his face to Charuk and lowered his bushy eyebrows in irritation. "That story again, Charuk? If I didn't know better I would say you crave the Outlander's cock in your ass," he taunted maliciously then grinned, showing yellowed teeth and the gap where his top front two used to be. The missing teeth, combined with his oft-broken nose, made him look menacing rather than buffoonish. A few of the men laughed nervously as Charuk's face reddened.

In the week since the Outlander had come on board, Charuk had told the story at least a hundred times. He never tired of describing how Adept Ava and the Outlander had risked their lives to break the Kraken's grappling chain. The young sailor was in awe of the Outlander and defended him whenever anyone said anything critical of the man. Monch took every opportunity to goad the young sailor.

"That fat bag of piss has his own cabin and eats with the Captain and his officers as if he's better than us," Monch continued. "He hasn't done shit to earn special treatment except haul his bloated belly through the portal. The Captain should toss him overboard and be done."

"Lord Aramon on the rock! He saved the ship," Charuk screamed at Monch.

"My hairy cock, he saved the ship," Monch yelled back and clenched his large fists. "I say he just wanted a look at the Captain's daughter's juicy little cunt."

Charuk rolled out of his bunk and started toward Monch, his face ablaze with fury. "You vulgar dog," he snarled. Monch smiled cruelly and raised his fists as the young sailor approached. The other men scrambled out of the way.

"Officer on deck!" one of the men shouted when he saw Lieutenant Kairn standing in the doorway. The sailors hastily scrambled to their feet to stand at attention.

Kairn moved into the room followed by Grelik. He gripped his sword hilt as he slowly walked, purposely remaining silent, forcing the men to stay at attention. He gave Monch a hard stare before stopping in front of Charuk. "What is going on here, sailor?" he asked.

"Nothing, sir," Charuk said. "Just a sailor's fight," he added when Kairn raised his eyebrows.

"Just a sailor's fight," the sea dog said before he moved in front of Monch, who stood rigidly. "Is that your answer too?"

"Yes, sir," Monch responded, staring ahead.

"I see," Kairn said. "Because it sounded to me like I heard someone insult Adept Ava's honor. It also sounded to me like only one man among you had the courage to defend it." He turned his head, meeting the eyes of each man until they looked down in shame.

"You men performed admirably in the Maelstroms so I am going to forget this little incident," Kairn continued. "But make no mistake, if I hear such words again I will personally see the villain that dares to utter them flogged." He leaned forward until his mouth was inches from Monch's ear. "I promise you that," he whispered before stepping back to ask loudly for all to hear, "do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," the sailors shouted as one.

"Very well then, carry on," Kairn said after giving Monch another hard look. He turned and left the berthing area with Grelik in tow.

The men stood still for a moment as the officer and his second's footsteps receded. When they were heard no more, Monch growled and slammed his fist into Charuk's face. The young sailor hit the floor with a thud.

Jack wandered aimlessly around the deck of the Arabella, pulling the stout, brown wool cloak that someone had left outside his cabin door tightly around him. The hem of the cloak flapped against his legs, whipped by the chill wind that pushed the ship steadily eastward.

His home in Boston was so far behind him now that it seemed lost in a fog. But while the details of his house, his job, and other possessions receded from memory, the vision of Barbara's betrayal remained as fresh as a new wound.

Everything was different now. The rock on which his whole world had been built, the core of his life, had been Barbara. She had been his lover and his friend. She had been his confidant and partner through everything life had thrown at them. She had been everything to him. Now he was adrift in a world he did not know, subject to the whim of those he did not trust, and despite what Barbara had done, he missed her terribly.

In the seven days since he had awakened aboard the Arabella, he had quickly learned the routine of life aboard the sailing vessel. Every other morning was bath day. Each sailor would haul a bucket of seawater up the side of the ship, and Ava or her mother would draw on the power of a leyline to transform it to fresh water with a touch. Then the men and women, separated by a sail fragment hung as a partition, would strip and bathe out of their buckets using soap that smelled of lye. When they were done bathing, any clothes they wanted to wash went into the same bucket.

Jack had felt extremely uncomfortable on the first morning that he joined the men bathing. The sailors laughed and hurled good-natured insults at each other. Jack remembered this kind of banter from his days as a member of his high school football and wrestling teams, but felt apart from these men and unable to join their comradely play. The sailors had a great laugh when Kairn announced that Jack's sword had no scabbard and pointed at Jack's circumcised penis. The sailors had fallen on the deck laughing, only to laugh even harder when Jack's face turned red with embarrassment.

After sunset each night, Jack would make his way to the bow of the ship. He found it strange that with all the activity aboard there was seldom anyone there. He was thankful though because it gave him a chance to enjoy a moment's peace without having to stay in his room. He'd found the silence of the night disconcerting at first. He had lived his whole life in Boston and had gotten used to the sounds of the city always in the background. Now, the only sounds were the occasional sail flapping in the wind and the soft splashes the ship made as it parted the sea before it.

He'd been surprised when the Lady Viviane joined him on the first night, but as the days passed they fell into a pattern where she'd arrive at the bow shortly after he did. Jack had seen enough to know that she was the Captain's daughter-in-law. She seemed as sad as he was and Jack felt a strange kinship with her. They didn't speak, but shared the silence as if they were old friends.

Together they would gaze at the twin moons as the bright orbs illuminated the darkness. Viviane would stand forlornly along the front rail, looking out at the sea ahead. In those moments when her back was turned, Jack would reach into his pants pocket and pull out the diamond earrings that he had bought for Barbara on their anniversary. He didn't know why he kept them, didn't know why he didn't throw them into the sea when they were just one more reminder of Barbara's betrayal.

Occasionally Jack would glance up at the leyline that he could still see clearly despite the darkness of night. The leyline was always there and he was aware of its presence even when below deck and unable to see it. He was sure that even if he closed his eyes and spun until he didn't know what direction was what, he would still be able to point right at the leyline.

Jack still found it hard to believe in sorcery or magic. He had been raised in an Irish Catholic family and though he'd drifted from the church over the years he could still remember Father Michael saying in his grandfatherly voice, "Thou shall not suffer a witch to live." Although the very idea of magic made him feel uncomfortable, Jack could not deny the things he had witnessed since he'd entered this world. Magic was undeniably real, even if it bore little resemblance to the type of witchcraft that Father Michael had preached against in his youth.

Jack's primary problem at the moment was boredom. He had quickly realized that Garek's offer of a job had been a ruse to get him on board. The Arabella already had a cargo-master and the man wasn't surrendering his job anytime soon. Accustomed to decades of hard work and excellence, Jack found it difficult to accept that he had no useful skills aboard a sailing vessel. It only made him feel worse when he realized that no one seemed to expect him to do anything.

With so much time on his hands, Jack had little to do but observe and think. He noticed that the Arabella bore a striking similarity to sailing ships from the 1800s on earth. The ships from that time on earth, however, bristled with cannons while the Arabella was armed only with a ballista. The ballista was nothing more than a giant wooden crossbow that hurled large spears at enemy vessels, and caused far less damage than cannon fire. He could only guess that this world's reliance on magic had retarded technological advancement in some areas.

Brooding was the other thing that he had plenty of time to do. Try though he might, he could not stop thinking about Barbara. His insides ached every time she intruded into his thoughts, strangely, the pain gave him comfort as well. It was his last link to the reality he had left behind. The pain of Barbara's betrayal felt like the only real thing left in his life.

The Captain's daughter was another thorn in his side. When he wasn't thinking of Barbara, his mind inexorably drifted to Ava. He found himself watching her as she went about her daily duties and would curse himself before tearing his gaze from her. Sometimes he would catch her looking at him with her striking green eyes as though he were some dangerous beast that could break free from its cage at any moment.

Jack sighed and forced himself to stop his current train of thought. If he continued brooding, he knew he would eventually drift into a deep depression. His stubborn pride, combined with the thought of an unknown person leaving gifts outside his door as if he were a child and unable to provide for himself, shook him from his lethargy. He couldn't deny that the wash bucket and cloak were sorely needed but there was no way he would continue to live off the charity of others.

He had also noticed the resentful looks that some of the sailors gave him and could only assume it was because he wasn't pulling his weight. He decided that it was time he became useful. He would learn from the sailors, and if they wouldn't teach him then he would study them. One way or another he was through with doing nothing.

He stopped his wandering when he came across three sailors on their hands and knees scrubbing the deck near the forecastle. He noticed an extra brush in one of the soap-filled buckets and figured helping them scrub the deck would be an easy way to start his quest.

"Do you mind?" he asked and nodded at the brush.

The sailors looked startled but didn't protest when Jack took the brush and knelt beside them on the deck. His knees protested but he ignored the pain and began scrubbing the deck in long strokes. His palms were almost healed now and barely hurt at all as he scrubbed. He lost himself in the rhythm of the work, eventually shedding his cloak as the physical activity warmed him. He was surprised when he heard the bell rung for the midday meal.

He tossed his brush into the bucket along with the other sailors and climbed awkwardly to his feet. Pain tore through his knees and he would have fallen if one of the other men hadn't steadied him. He nodded his thanks and limped after them to the line forming along the rail.

After Jack got his ration, he decided not to join the officers in the wardroom as he had been doing. He was tired of them politely evading his questions. Today he would eat with the rest of the crew. He glanced around and saw Grelik nearby. He limped over and sat on the deck beside the young sea dog.

"Outlander," Grelik said in greeting as Jack sat beside him. "Not eating with the officers today?"

"Not today," Jack answered.

"Ah, you seek the company of honest men," Grelik said and then laughed.

Jack smiled and turned to his meal of fish soup and a hard biscuit. It was no wonder the people of this world were so thin Jack mused as he ate. He hadn't been able to eat his fill since he had been here. He didn't even want to think of what he'd be willing to do for a chocolate doughnut right now. He had already had to take his belt up a notch after a single week. At this rate, it wouldn't be long before he would need new clothes. How he would get them, he had no idea.

"How long do you think it will take us to reach Antyor?" Jack asked, chewing on his biscuit. During one of his meals with the Captain and his officers, Jack had overheard Garek mention a planned stop at the port city to re-supply the ship.

Grelik looked up at the sails. "I would say about six weeks if the wind holds," he answered.

Jack glanced up as Aidan, guided by his wife Viviane, walked past them on the way to the wardroom to eat with the Captain and the officers. "Pretty, pretty, pretty," the big man repeated, staring at his plate of food and smiling happily.

"Yes, my Lord," Viviane replied patiently as she steered him toward the poop deck.

Jack watched them as they made their way aft. He was aware of Viviane's striking beauty, but despite her similarity in hair and complexion to Barbara she didn't affect him the way Ava did. He forced himself to suppress that thought, turning his attention to Aiden instead. "What happened to the Captain's son?" he asked Grelik.

"Sad story, that. Sir Aiden was a hero once. So renowned that the old King bestowed a knighthood on him and honored him with his niece, the Lady Viviane, to wife. Damned Karokai," Grelik said the last word harshly, then spit on the deck.

"Karokai?" Jack asked. "What is that?"

The blood drained from Grelik's face. "I cannot speak of this," he said worriedly in a hushed tone.

"Why not?" Jack pressed.

"Please, Outlander," Grelik begged. "Do not ask this of me." When Jack had been passed out drunk that first night, the Captain had ordered the crew to not mention the Karokai to the Outlander. Grelik cursed himself for being a loud-mouthed fool.

The young sea dog looked so distressed that Jack dropped the matter. He sighed in frustration. Grelik had added another piece to the puzzle, but it only deepened the mystery rather than clarifying it. Jack returned to his food but it seemed to have lost what little flavor it had.

Jack saw Charuk sitting across the deck from him eating sullenly. A purplish bruise covered one whole side of his face and his eyes held the look of wounded pride. "What happened to Charuk?" he asked Grelik.

Grelik looked at Charuk then told Jack what he and Lieutenant Kairn had overheard in the berthing hold. The young sea dog latched on to this new subject, relieved to be talking of anything other than the Karokai. "My guess is that after we left, Monch gave your young friend that face decoration," he said in conclusion.

"So this Monch character beat up Charuk for defending me and Ava," Jack said quietly. All of the frustration, pain, and anger that Jack had felt since his anniversary coalesced into a cold fury that threatened to explode out of him now that it had found a convenient and acceptable target. Monch was a bully and Jack knew of only one way to deal with a bully. "Show me which one is Monch," he said icily as he scanned the sailors lounging around the deck eating.

"The big fellow over there," Grelik said, pointing at Monch with his wooden spoon. He failed to notice the coiled tension in Jack's voice. "Wait, what are you doing?" he asked when Jack climbed to his feet. Jack didn't respond. He just headed purposefully toward Monch. "Shit, I did it again." Grelik leapt to his feet and ran as fast as he could to fetch the officers.

Jack studied Monch as he approached. The big man was holding court, with several of the crew around him listening to every word he said. Everything about the man screamed bully to Jack, from his bulging arms to the stupid, arrogant look on his ugly face. Jack recognized that look. He had seen it before on the faces of the bullies he had gone to high school with. He planted his feet in front of Monch and looked down at the big man where he sat eating his soup.