(Previous Chapter Twenty-Seven) (Book Homepage & Chapter List) (Next Chapter Twenty-Nine)

24th Day in the 4th of Ründ’s Months, Dry Season, in the First Year of King Feyaz’s Reign, 126th Reckoned Year

…dress like a beggar and ask for a scale, dress like a king and ask for a whale.

From ‘Acceptance Speech’ of Fellpost HelBenorg, as recorded by Scrivener Fowdin-Mell in the Unreckoned Years

The Saint’s sun has just set, leaving the sky a dusky golden haze as the Second sun races toward the horizon. The Big Man watches the brightening horizon, singing confidently from the crow’s nest. His voice rebounds off the surrounding forest and the song is given an ethereal quality. The raw beauty of the strange green forest coupled with the liquid golden sunsets scintillating through the branches and rigging, all lend credence to the rumors that the Floating Forests are special places. Benafield sings on from the height of the crow’s nest, becoming engrossed in the passing beauty of the forest on the portside. He sings out a common song heard in the Broadfell navy, or taverns in the Keep:

Never to see land nor love nor port,

That’s the way of the Drowned Fisher Four

Conspiring an confiding with the vilest of sort

That’s the way of the Drowned Fisher Four

Deal me the cards and drowned be the odds

That’s the way of the Drowned Fisher Four

Spoil me my darling but don’t spare me the rod

That’s the way of the Drowned Fisher Four

Yes, That’s the way of the Drowned Fisher Four

Throw them a volley, Show them we’re jolly

Yes, that’s the way of the Drowned Fisher Four

Below, Harlan calls out in a clear, calm voice, “Mavis.” and he stomps twice on the deck. The Big Man stops singing, having heard Harlan. Under the helm, in the Captain’s quarters, Mavis has just fallen asleep after fitfully tossing and turning. Harlan’s voice rings out as though he were standing right over Mavis in the Captain’s bed. Mavis yelps out in undignified shock, “Delód’s breath! What?”

Harlan speaks loudly, though still in a calm and steady voice, so that Mavis can hear him below. “We may have a problem.”

Harlan’s voice rings out loudly from a bucket hung upside down on the ceiling. Mavis sticks a thumb in his ear and calls back unenthusiastically. “Alright, alright… Depths, lad, I’m coming.” As Mavis begrudgingly rises and rubs his stiff neck, he mutters under his breath. “… drownin’ Captain and his drowned gadgets…”

Mavis groggily approaches the ship wheel where Harlan stands. “What. What the depths is it. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have come up.”

Harlan gestures off to the starboard side where the trees are passing the side of the ship. Out past the final row of passing trees is the King’s Haul. Mavis immediately sees what Harlan means. “What’s she doing? Why’re they aiming right for the Flower?”

“I don’t know,” Harlan answers, “they made a hard turn to avoid something and now they appear to be drifting.”

“The Flower’s got them now…” Mavis says.

Harlan nods slowly and speaks with the same pace. “Should we try the Captain's plan?”

“Wait for the signal. He’ll send it up if they need us.” Mavis speaks as though he is trying to convince himself.

Moments pass that feel infinitely long, and still no signal. The King’s Haul has visibly drifted now, and the correction to the portside has not brought the ship out of it’s drift. Mavis looks at Harlan and nods, and he moves quickly as Mavis has rarely had the privilege of seeing. Harlan vaults the railing behind the ship wheel and lands lightly on his feet. Cheese, Shushilah, and the General are all playing Runny when Harlan lands on the board, scattering dice. Cheese exclaims, “Saints! What’s gotten into him?”

The General leaps into action, understanding what’s needed. “Quickly now, we must raise all the sails and drop the anchor!”

Shushilah runs over to the sail ties and begins raising canvas. Cheese runs off and shouts over her shoulder. “We ain’t got an anchor!”

The General’s face takes on a worried expression. They continue hoisting sails, while Harlan slides into the open cargo hatch that drops into the hold. When he finally reaches the cannons in the orlop, he rushes over to the one he was adjusting earlier. Above deck, nearly all of the sails are fully furled. Down in the orlop, Harlan works speedily at the cannon. Beside the gun port is the large spool of rope Shush and Tar wound up. The end of the rope is attached to a strange-shaped object: the back is a round cannonball, but the front is an anchor-like assembly of hooks. Harlan shoves the object into the barrel of the cannon and readjusts the angle slightly, aiming between the ship-sized gap in the trees. He lights the ready fuse and leans away, covering his ears. The cannon blast roars through the empty cargo hold of the ship, alerting every crew member to the situation. Beside the cannon, the spool of rope is rapidly spinning as the hook shot trails away with the lead. It soars through the air too fast for Harlan to track, but the angle of the rope tells him it’s a good shot. He had to aim much higher due to the drag of the rope.

At the helm, Mavis watches the shot while minding the ship, and he knows Harlan’s aim was true. The two soldiers, Venlott and Tonkish, come running from below deck. Pickett, Sprig, and Bor all rush up to the quarter deck. Cheese, Shush, and the General are already there, having raised all the sails. The Big Man remains in the nest, and Harlan is returning now. The only people unaware of what is happening are Venlott and Tonkish, who were left deliberately in the dark to the Captain’s plans. Mavis wisely assumed they wouldn’t take kindly to firing a cannon at the King’s Haul. “Listen up, crew,” Mavis projects his voice for everyone to hear, “the King’s Haul is caught in the Flower. Harlan just fired a hook shot at her to tie us together.”

The two soldiers gape wide-eyed at Mavis when he says this, and they are about to object but Mavis talks loudly over them. “We didn’t have much time before they got pulled too far away. It’s done now. When the line reaches its length, our hope is that we can pull them along, using the trees to hold the Lady back if she hooked more than we bargained for. I need all hands on deck and at the ready for anything. If the pull is too strong, we may get pulled in as well.”

Now Venlott yells out, interrupting Mavis. “Now wait a minute, we can’t get pulled in. We’ll die too!”

Tonkish adds intellectual weight to the argument by saying, “Yeah!”

Mavis raises a hand and amazingly, they fall silent. He stares the two soldiers down, but it’s Harlan that speaks up. “Maybe you feel you do not, but I have family on that ship.” All is quiet as the entire crew looks at Venlott and Tonkish. They don’t respond, seeming cowed by Harlan’s words and demeanor.

The Big Man yells out from above, “Brace! The lines coming taut!” Everyone below adopts a wider stance, grabbing hold of anything nearby. Benafield grabs tightly to the mast. Suddenly a wet rope rises from the sea, flinging water up in a plume of white hazy mist as it does, and becomes an almost straight line connecting the two ships. The Painful Lady is jerked slightly to the starboard side. As they are steadily pulled into the Flower by the Haul, the stout trees are pushed away from the Lady. The rope trails off into the water between the two trees, off to the distant Haul. The Lady is pulled up against their trunks. With one tree pressing against the bow and one against the stern, they are stuck like a wagon in a doorway. Mavis waits with bated breath for something to snap. There is the deep and concerning groan of lumber under strain emanating from the decking and rails. An ear-splitting crack rings out across the water, almost louder than the cannon. The crew is all tossed to the deck as the tree holding the stern snaps. Previously hidden birds of bright colors take flight out of the trees, fleeing from the sound. The Big Man is thrown from the crow’s nest but manages to catch himself in the rigging. One of the decorative roots that reach from the Lady’s railings down to the water gets caught on the remaining floating tree at the bow. The tree bends over, its boughs dipping into the sea.

Mavis, Harlan and Sprig stand while the rest of the crew finds themselves. Mavis calls out, “is anyone hurt?” There are grumbles and complaints, but no injuries. The Big Man climbs down from the rigging and catches his breath on the deck. Sprig sees Bungle, who has been thrown against the railing and entangled in ropes. He rushes over to the bow of the ship to help the poor billypug, not noticing the increasing tension on the railing. Mavis yells out at him, “Sprig, get back!” Sprig looks back at Mavis for a split second, and then the decorative root cracks and splits off from the railing with a tremendous rending sound. The Painful Lady lurches as it gives way, being rapidly pulled out into open water, and Sprig is thrown over the railing and into the sea. Mavis, Harlan, and Benafield all see and cry out as Sprig disappears over the side. The Big Man is winded from his fall and is too far to do anything. Harlan is immediately running toward the railing as the ship is rapidly carried toward the Flower. He rushes to the bow of the ship, leaping up onto the railing, removing a small blade from his sleeve, and cutting free a rope from the rigging. Harlan runs down the railing with the rope in hand and dives off the edge of the ship in a large arc, soundlessly splashing into the sea below. Mavis and others rush to the railing, all thought of the Flower gone for the moment. Neither Sprig nor Harlan can be seen, and the Lady is being rapidly pulled westward. The Flower is hundreds of towers away, and yet they are firmly within the grips of its powerful current.

Mavis is screaming out Sprig’s name, but no one surfaces. The rest of the crew look on in horror, distraught over the loss of Sprig and Harlan. Even Tonkish and Venlott watch on in dismay, saddened by the distressed faces of the crew. Suddenly, Sprig bursts from the surface coughing and spluttering. Shushilah cries out, and Cheese exclaims, “He’s there! Sprig’s there! Pull ‘em in!”

Bor, Shushilah and The General attempt to pull in the length of rope but are unable to with the strange currents of the Flower. The Big Man appears and grabs the rope, heaving with all of his strength and pulling it in hand over hand. Bor calls out as they draw in the rope. “I don’t see Harlan, where is he?” When The Big Man finally pulls Sprig up over the railing, he is alone and in shock. The rope has been tied securely around Sprig’s chest and under his arms, no doubt the work of Harlan — a final sacrifice. Sprig’s face is fixed with a look of stark terror and bewilderment. Mavis kneels beside him, wrapping him in an embrace. Bor continues scanning for any sign of Harlan, but it is getting darker with the Small sun setting quickly. He searches the open water diligently, desperately even, but there is nothing save for the rapidly shrinking tree line of the Floating Forest. Bor looks to Mavis and says, “What do we do?” Mavis appears either scared or pained for the briefest moment, doing his best not to confront what he knows: they will not find Harlan. Mavis stands and walks briskly away from the bow of the ship and his welling grief, off toward the helm.

Shushilah comforts Sprig and checks him over. “Is okay, Sprig. Is alright, you are safe now.”

Sprig looks into Shushilah’s deep blue eyes, seeing no sign of his own wide-eyed terror. “But… Harlan… is he…”

But Shushilah simply hugs him and makes soft soothing noises as Sprig begins to cry. Bor doesn’t leave off scanning the water from the bow, he strains his eyes in the dusky lighting but inwardly he knows the harsh truth: Harlan is gone. After a few moments staring out at nothing, Bor gives up the pretense. The rest of the crew hurry to follow Mavis back to the quarterdeck. The Big Man quietly asks, “What will we be doing now?” while Mavis steps behind the ship wheel. Mavis looks like stone as he grabs the ship wheel, yanking out a peg from the wheel and placing it into the smaller center wheel, freeing it to move independently. Now Mavis spins the smaller wheel one direction while turning the larger wheel in the opposite direction. Despite having no sails down, the Lady begins to spin, as though on a wheel of its own. Mavis turns the ship and his mind from Harlan, committing to saving those he can and making Harlan’s sacrifice worthwhile. Soon, the ship’s bow is pointed toward the King’s Haul and consequently, the Flower.

(Previous Chapter Twenty-Seven) (Book Homepage & Chapter List) (Next Chapter Twenty-Nine)

While no part of this book or the audio will be paywalled, if you are enjoying it and want to support but can’t afford the book, my Substack paid subscription is 60% off the yearly ($12 a year, forever) and 50% off the monthly ($2.25 a month, foreeeever)

Get full access to Loser’s Fiction at losersfiction.substack.com/subscribe