Fleas - Songs of the Gnolls I

THIRST 4.5

The wind gently swayed his aged face and blew through his bare shirt of chain mail, for wearing it would prevent him from swimming. It was the third day at sea, and although Dannke was not particularly kind to the waves, his squire was having the hardest time. He hadn't eaten for a day and was still gagging. His eyes looked exhausted and he was drooling like hell. On top of that, the crew was not kind to him.

The captain approached. He was a rough young man. His eyes reflected a tragic and difficult life. And just as the gods had been unfair to him, he was unfair to the rest, be they his sailors or Dannke himself.

"Near dawn we reach Viollara. Still no sign of the mermaid."

"What are those rock formations in the distance?"

"Cays. Navigating these waters is difficult, they are shallow and full of coral. If they were deeper, we'd be there in half the time, sir. Ahead are the beached ships."

"I see. Then there's not much we can do."

"Unless you can fly, no. Relax, enjoy the breeze and your food."

He gave a mocking bow and walked away with a smile. Dannke looked at Fleas, who was clinging to his left leg, his eyes closed tightly. Drool escaped from his snout and ran down onto the deck. Dannke shook it off. Fleas lost his balance, ran to the edge and retched.

"I thought you'd get used to it. If I had I known you would be so useless, I would have left you ashore."

*

Adding to the discomfort of being tossed randomly by the merciless sea was a high-pitched screeching sound that Fleas could not quite explain, but which he heard growing louder and louder. He'd heard it before, on the beach; it hadn't bothered him then, it was just curious. He had mentioned it to his master, but he had replied it must be from seasickness.

His body didn't seem to know that he had an empty stomach, and he made the effort to vomit anyway. The sailors looked at him and laughed.

The day passed very slowly, and in the evening they all gathered for dinner. It seemed to be a human custom to eat together, it was strange that he had done the same with Kkelea. Why should that be? Flea's stomach growled, complaining of its emptiness. To make matters worse, his food had been left on the floor, on the side, as if he were a dog. The raw fish smelled old, which increased his contradiction: he wanted to eat it, but it disgusted him. Dannke, noticing this, approached him and gave him the last strips of salted meat.

"Eat something. Otherwise you will lose your strength."

The old knight returned to the table. Fleas took a strip, looked at it for a long time, and finally summoned up the courage to put it in his mouth. Could he digest it?

*

Dannke didn't like the hustle and bustle of the sailors. He hoped it would all be over soon. He wanted to go back to land and have the chance to get away from people he didn't like, such as the captain. He also hated the way they treated his squire. He doubted if he should interfere and defend him, but he wasn't a strong young man anymore and he couldn't take on all of them at once. Although Filgad had appointed him leader of the expedition, it was the captain who gave the orders. Only wine gave him the courage to resist the evening, but when sleep revealed a yawn in his mouth, he decided to retire. Fleas had fallen asleep on the floor. He had eaten the strips of meat and the best part of the rotten fish. Dannke picked it up and carried it away. He heard the jeering of the sailors just before he reached his cot.

He awoke in the middle of the night because the breeze carried the laughter, then climbed down from the cot with difficulty, dodging the sailors who were too drunk to climb into his coy and were sprawled on the ground. Idiots. Dannke suspected that they didn't believe the mermaid's threat. Neither would he, if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.