One Wrong Move

Much like leaving my family’s farm for the last time I had imagined that stepping off of the landmass of the Italian peninsula, quite likely for the last time, would be a monumental moment. This morning before I got out of bed I had images in my head of us standing at the point where solid land met dock, the group of us pausing to look back wistfully at the only homeland most of us had ever known before turning as one to stride boldly toward our future. As it happened however we blow past that border between land and water with nary a hitch to our stride and the only backward glances were to look for a wisp of shadow or smoke where it shouldn’t be.

“Ease up.” I whisper as we near the ship, not wanting our quickened pace to give away the fact that we were fleeing something. “Act natural.”

Our steps slow and the group of us put on disarming smiles as we approach. Ahead of us, next to the gangplank leading up onto the Hostia Nigra, I see Captain Nikias, a man of medium height and wiry build donned in a sleeveless linen tunic with a bright blue sash around his waist. His thick walrus mustache, jet black yet speckled with white like the hair on his head, made him stand out among the men but it was his calm and commanding presence that signifies him as the master of this vessel. His sharp eyes catch us approaching and he turns to greet us.

“You were swift. Very good, we’d like to set sail in short order.” He says in his deep, raspy tone. Before any of us can speak he continues, making it clear niceties he hadn’t time for niceties at the moment. “Report to my proreta Kreer on deck. He’ll sort you out.” Giving my shoulder an amicable slap he adds. “He wants to talk to you about that man-cleaver you brought on board.”

“You searched our stuff?” I bristle but keep my calm. “Not that we have anything to hide, but…”

“Just a regular precaution.” He assures me. “Everything coming aboard is given a quick once over.” His eyes narrowing as he studies me he adds. “Wouldn’t want to be taking on any contraband you understand.”

“Of course.” I say with a diplomatic smile.

He looks to the others, his eyes lingering in all the expected places, then gives a deep nod. “Ladies.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Rosa says.

With one final glance toward shore I take Rosa’s hand and lead her up the plank. Despite my worries her nimble feet manage the crossing better than my own, even with the overwhelmed Danae still cradled in her free arm. Stepping aboard we are hit with a barrage for the senses. For the tongue comes the taste of the briny breeze, which also cools our sun-warmed flesh. For the ears there is the creak of wood and rope, the shouts of men and the furious neighing of our stallion coming up from below. For the nose the smells of pine pitch and human sweat mix with the sea air, along with a slight whiff of rancid oil. And for the eyes is a bustle of organized chaos which quickly becomes just chaos as the sailors catch sight of Rosa and Cassie. Heads snap in our direction and bodies turn, causing the diverse crew of exclusively men to collide and one unfortunate youth to plummet down into the open hatch leading below deck. We stop and stand together as the whole ship comes to a stand still around us.

At my side I feel a tug. Colly whispers. “Mathter…you didn’t tell me there wath a goblin aboard! A goblin man!”

I grin as I glance up at the male goblin slave that was perched among the rigging, peering down on us curiously. “Maybe a new friend?” I nudge her. “I think he’s noticed you.”

She nudges back. “Mathter! I’m in my breeding yearth! Oh my goodneth.” She turns away from the male goblin’s gaze with a mossy green blush and hides her face in my leg. “Ohhh boy.”

Just then there comes a deafening squeal unlike anything I had heard before, so high-pitched it pierced my ears and vibrated the bones inside my flesh!

Rosa gasps, then mutters under her breath. “A telchis!”

The crew all snap back to what they were doing as if they’d never seen us. Even the young man who fell crawls back up onto deck with a freshly swelling knot on his head and limps off to continue his duties. Stepping out from the aft cabin is a figure standing six feet tall and shaped like a man, but like no man I’d ever heard of. His slate gray skin was smooth and hairless, almost metallic looking except that it seemed to absorb the sun rather than reflect it. He had a tall bulbous head, not a hair in sight, with dark, watery eyes along the sides instead of in front. There was no nose and his mouth was a sort of wide, snubby muzzle, like a dog…no, not like a dog at all…like a drawing I’d once seen of a pilot whale. Between the two fingers and one thumb of the hand I could see was webbing of a lighter shade of gray than the rest of him. His attire was completely unlike any of the other crewmen. He wore a long coppery robe with golden brown designs across it depicting various shells and other nautical imagery. Around his wrists and thick neck he wore bands of green-blue metal, the color the same as the patina of old copper yet it gleamed like polished brass.

This strange man walks toward us. The other crew were clearly men of experience with well-established sea-legs but he moved with an unnerving fluidity that set him apart, shifting in perfect synchronicity to the motion of the ship beneath him. By the way the crew parted in front of him I knew he was the first mate we’d been sent to by the captain.

“Kreer?” I say. “This my slave Rosa, my companion Cassie, my slave Collywaddle and you can call me Quin.”

Without a word he stops about a stride and a half away…then casts as spell! He was a mage!!!

Rosa squeaks as her unique eyes sees the magic begin to weave before us and grips my hand tighter. My defensive instinct taking over I step forward and with an open palm shove the man back a step with my free hand. His body was denser than I was used to and instead of a pec my palm strikes flat, featureless flesh beneath the robe. The mage lets out a deep clicking trill and suddenly around us the men stop working again as daggers, hooks, hatchets and clubs appeared in their hands from seemingly nowhere. My hand goes to my shoulder, but of course our weapons were already packed with the rest of our gear down below. Stepping out, my arms wide, I try my best to shield the women as best I can but the glowering crew of The Black Sacrifice had us surrounded on all sides!

“Wait…”

“OOMPH!” One of the men grunts as Cassie slams him to the deck with a brutal Pankration trip, disarming him of his hatchet in one smooth motion.

“Cassie!” Rosa hisses too late.

The mage raises both hands as the weirdest series of clicks and croaks emanate from its…forehead? His static face shows no fear or anger, such expressions seemed impossible for it, but the peculiar inhuman noises he made conveyed urgency.

Cassie pops up beside me, deftly flips the hatchet once in the air before catching it again by the tip of the handle, then points at the first mate with the hatchet held back and ready to throw. “One wrong move and the whale man gets it!”