Ashsib and the Cat Beast

Chapter Six

Ashsib sat as close to the crow's nest balcony wall as possible, while a frigid wind swirled into the bucket shape of the platform and tried to freeze him to the bone. They seemed to be sailing through fall and into winter, despite actually heading into milder climates. There was a storm belt laying across their path. Pashqua had put everyone on edge by claiming it was an 'ill wind' and it 'foretold back luck.'

Sailing was, in theory, stupendously uninteresting, monotonous in action and view, but it was filled with superstition. Squalls, sudden bouts of absolute still, and the effects of poor nutrition were already dependent on luck, so trying to reverse the bad was habit for most sailors. Everyone had their own rituals. Ashsib had not grown up around sailors, but even he never wiped condensation from the portholes or walked backwards on the deck.

The wind howled like a shrieking animal and Ashsib, who'd thought he'd gotten too cold to, shivered against the sound.

"Hey, Ash!" Challah popped up, brandishing a thermos flask, "Something warm."

"Thank you, Challah." Ashsib gave her a grateful smile.

She crawled over to him while Ashsib took a few gulps of hot broth.

"It looks like it could snow any second." She said with a study of the clouds.

"Does it snow over the ocean?" Ashsib asked.

"I've never seen it, but it can." Challah nodded, "The wind would probably have to die down some."

Ashsib studied the clouds for a moment, too, as the hot soup made a warm spiral of his guts. They were dark and heavy, but he'd never lived anywhere with consistent snows, so he couldn't tell what they promised.

"Do you ever feel like you're sleeping and in a dream, even though you're awake?" Ashsib mused after a moment of silence.

"Yes, before I was Challah. I was standing still while the world passed by." Challah said.

"That's the feeling." Ashsib agreed, staring off at the horizon, "I'm just in suspension until Namere fixes me. I'm not me."

"You're still you. You'll always be you, Ashsib." Challah implored.

"Not with something else inside me." Ashsib said, "The Beast is always pushing at me in some way. I can't live like this."

"Ash, I have-" Challah began in a subdued tone.

Ashsib jumped to his feet, his sudden intensity silencing his companion. He had seen something on the sea. Even though it was dark and the clouds blocked the starlight, he had seen it.

"Is something wrong?" Challah ventured.

"Tell the Captain I saw a ship." Ashsib said, his eyes locked on the darkness, "And it looked like it was a P.O. ship."

Challah hurried back down the mast.

A flash of lightning illuminated the Triand Mermaid, as well as the boat out beyond several miles of choppy waves. A rumble of thunder followed and water like cuts of ice began to fall, whipped into stinging speed by the gusty wind. It didn't turn to snow. Back luck for sure, Pashqua had been right.

Quinn was on deck in minutes and up the mast to stand next to Ashsib in an eye's blink. Challah didn't return.

"It's a larger ship." Ashsib spoke nervously. "This isn't good, is it?"

Quinn didn't speak but clapped Ashsib on the shoulder and left the crow's nest. He visited Pashqua's wheelhouse first, before going below decks. Ashsib stayed on watch.

The P.O. ship slid closer on the waves, the wind in its favor. The telltale red stripes marked both the sail and the prow. They didn't seem to want to fight, or they would be turning broadside and deploying the cannons, Ashsib rationalized. It was common procedure to ask for surrender first. The question of why they were approaching at all was what put Ashsib's teeth on edge. No P.O. ship came within firing range of another ship without wanting the other ship's attention.

Quinn eventually called Ashsib down to join everyone in a huddle in the wheelhouse, where he dripped miserably.

"So, we have two options here." The Captain spoke over the wind, "One, we act like common traders and let them approach. Two, we try and run like thieves."

"They have the wind." Pashqua said like the fact was an insult to his skill.

"They are not rolling out the cannons, even for a warning shot." Bretta sounded hopeful, "I say we wait for hail."

"It's a big ship." Vel pointed out, "Probably filled to the gills with P.O. We'd be no match."

"It's too stormy for radio calls, they would know that. What could they want from us that's so urgent?" Calder wondered.

"We were careful not to sell too much too quickly, or too cheap." Quinn responded, "The one wholesale we made was for legit items we bought two years ago with papers."

"Nothing out of the ordinary..." Bretta let her statement slow to silence and all eyes turned to Namere. "Did you alert that former subordinate?"

"He did not seem suspicious of my answers, and he was off duty." Namere defended from the corner where she had slouched. Some emotion vaguely showed on her face, but Ashsib wasn't adept enough to know what it was. It was something uneasy, like nausea, but no P.O. stayed on if they got seasick.

"Doesn't mean you didn't send him a message or something." Bretta continued.

"I remained on the Mermaid until departure." Namere reminded the other woman.

"Yes, but you came back alone." Bretta seemed determined to blame Namere, "You had plenty of time-"

"I told you I want nothing to do with the P.O. anymore!" Namere interrupted, uncharacteristically hot, her blue eyes blazing.

Bretta didn't seem convinced, but dropped the subject. It was easy to blame the newest element, but Ashsib couldn't force himself to fully distrust Namere. She'd put her life on the line for him so many times in just the small time they'd had together already. Deserting wasn't a good trait, but she cared for people in the way good P.O. officers were supposed to. The small doubts came and went, but he'd put his life in her hands in a heartbeat.

"So? What do you all choose?" Quinn prompted.

"No choice. We can't run." Pashqua frowned.

"Fine, fine." Quinn sighed, "We will greet them cordially and see what they want. Namere, you go to your cabin."

Namere turned around and, though her first step seemed to be a little hesitant, she did as she was told. Ashsib wanted to go with her, he already felt like a drowned rat and, though worry already had him twisted, in need of a good wringing out.

"Vel, prepare the gangplank." Quinn ordered, "The rest of us will observe the ship and wait for it's approach."

An uneasy air followed as they spread out on deck and tried to remain casual. Pashqua and Calder furled the sails, but the anchor was left in it's house.