The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock (35 page)

“Here,” said Malock as he took off his coat and put
it over Vank, like a blanket. “You need this far more than I
do.”

“Thank you, Captain,” said Vank, whose voice was
strained. He coughed up some blood on Malock's coat (which Malock
didn't mind at all) and said, “Sir? Can I tell you something?”

Malock was just about to get up, as he had other
patients to attend to, but he stopped before he could do so. “What
is it, Vank? I'm all ears.”

Vank looked extremely embarrassed, ashamed even, but
he said, “Sir, I no longer ... I don't care about the gods
anymore.”

Malock blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don't worship any, don't pay homage to
any, don't care about 'em at all anymore,” said Vank. “I used to be
a follower of Yaona, the Goddess of Music, because back home I was
something of a musician and most musicians worship her. Now, though
... she can take that guitar of hers and shove it straight up her
ass.”

Malock bit his lower lip. “Why are you showing such
disdain to the gods?”

“Sir, it's because of what's happened recently,”
said Vank, looking at Malock with a steely gaze. “A god tried to
kill us and another three gods tried to kill you and Jenur. And
then there's this whole northern/southern crap and I'm convinced
that the gods are no longer worth worshiping at all. They're just
like us mortals, except worse.”

Malock had to admit that Vank had a point, but he
said in a voice he no longer believed, “Not all of the gods are
bad, Vank. Kano is good.”

Vank snorted. “If Kano is so good, why has she not
saved us? Why did she stand aside as the Tusked God ravaged our
ship and killed or wounded our men? She is no better than any of
the others. That is what I believe, sir, and if you think that
makes me deserving of punishment or whatever, I'll take whatever
you choose to do to me.”

Under ordinary circumstances, Malock would have
punished Vank. He did not tolerate heathens, those who refused to
give the gods the honor and respect they deserved. Heathenism was a
crime on Carnag and most of the Northern Isles and it was a crime
that he was always happy to see punished, as it was on his top ten
list of worst crimes anyone can commit, right below murder and just
above rape.

Yet Malock felt no rage at Vank's words. He felt
nothing at all. All he did was nod and say, “I'm not going to
punish you, Vank. After what we've all been through, punishment is
the last thing we need.”

Vank let out a long sigh of relief. “That's good. I
thought you were actually going to punish me there for a
moment.”

“Just rest here,” said Malock. “Don't move too much
and try to drink as much water as you can. If your stump itches,
don't scratch it because it should go away in a few hours.”

Vank nodded as someone behind Malock said, “You're
starting to sound more like a doctor than a captain now,
Malock.”

Malock turned around and saw that it was Kinker.
Kinker was one of the few sailors to have avoided taking any
life-threatening wounds, but he had not been helping in the
recovery period because his back hurt him too badly for him to
help.

Yet Kinker now stood before him, leaning on a chunk
of wood like a walking stick, looking quite serious.

“Hello, Kinker,” said Malock. “Is your back feeling
better now?”

Kinker grunted and rubbed his back with his free
hand. “Hardly. If anything, I'd say it's gotten worse. I just
wanted to talk with you in private for a moment. Would that be
fine?”

Malock rubbed his elbow. “I still have some patients
to get to—”

“So?” said Kinker. “Not to be cruel, but there is
little you can do for the majority of them. I have a feeling we'll
be seeing more deaths in the coming days. Have you seen Bifor and
Ranof? They both look like they're about to drop dead from
exhaustion themselves.”

“All right,” said Malock. “I'll talk. Just for a few
minutes, though.”

“A few minutes is all I'll need of your time,” said
Kinker. “To make this private, how's about we go talk top
deck?”

“All right,” said Malock. “Lead the way.”

It took them very little time to reach the top deck.
Kinker walked over to the stump that was all that was left of the
mainmast and sat stood beside it. There was no one else top deck
besides them. It was snowing lightly, making Malock shiver. Off the
port, the island of Stalf was still visible.

“All right,” said Malock, hugging himself to keep
warm. “We're here. What do you want to talk about?”

Kinker's eyes were looking out to the sea, like he
was completely lost in the ocean's waves. “Everything.”

Malock quirked an eyebrow. “That's a wide
subject.”

“I mean everything that has happened so far,” said
Kinker with a frustrated sigh. “Malock, I know you are young, but I
didn't think you were dense.”

“Excuse me, elder, for not knowing what you meant
when you only spoke one word,” said Malock. “Perhaps you're going
senile in your old age. My grandfather started losing his mind when
he got to your age, Kinker. I suspect the same may be happening to
you.”

Kinker raised his makeshift walking stick like he
was going to pound Malock with it, but he let it down and said,
“Fighting will do us no good. The only thing that will help us in
this situation is to talk.”

“About what?” said Malock. “Everything?”

“The voyage,” said Kinker. “I am not the only member
of the crew who suspects that this entire voyage is a fool's
errand. Quite a few sailors just want to go home.”

“But we can't,” Malock said. “I've made that clear
already. Besides the simple fact that I want to keep going, there
is the fact that the ship is in no condition to be sailing and the
sailors are in no condition to take it back north.”

“Your naivety is so interesting, Malock,” said
Kinker, shaking his head. “Do you think that the crew really cares
about any of that? They just want to go home and not have to deal
with crazy gods and pirates and spies and other things like that. I
agree with them and I don't even want to go back to Destan.”

Malock's hands balled into fists, but he tried to
keep his voice as level as he could. “Do you think I just woke up
one day and decided I wanted to go on this voyage? That I wanted to
explore the most dangerous, unexplored seas in the world for fun? I
went on this voyage only because Kano summoned me. And you do
not
ignore the calls of a goddess, no matter how much you
want to.”

Kinker pursed his lips. “Then maybe that's the
problem. Maybe you should have told Kano, 'Thanks, but no thanks.'
Maybe people wouldn't have needed to die if you had shown more
spine.”

“Shown more spine?” Malock repeated in horror.
“Kinker, I never thought I'd hear you say such a thing. Where I
grew up, elders are the most pious, religious, and faithful of all.
They regularly attend services, pray to the gods, and will answer
their summons even in their old age. My own grandfather actually
met Grinf once.”

“Not everyone everywhere is like your elders,” said
Kinker. “I still follow Kano and yet ... as this voyage continues,
I am starting to doubt that you were ever contacted by her at all.
Perhaps you simply dreamed of Kano and mistook your dream of her
for the real thing.”

Malock walked up to Kinker, closing the distance
between their faces to only a few inches. “You. Don't. Understand.
Kano
did
contact me. I know it was her. It wasn't just a
simple dream. It was an actual summons from the Goddess of the Sea
herself.”

Kinker leaned back, looking disgusted, and said,
“Yet you offer no proof of that claim. The other sailors have
noticed this complete lack of proof and it has done nothing to
quell the mutiny that is boiling under your very nose.”

Malock pulled back and turned away. “A mutiny
certainly would be the most intelligent thing to do in this
situation. After all, we all know the
real
reason we can't
go anywhere is because I'm the problem. Not, you know, the fact
that the ship is irreparably damaged or anything.”

“All I'm saying is that you should address their
concerns,” said Kinker. “If you truly believe that this voyage is
not pointless, that we will succeed, then show us why.”

“Because ...” Malock struggled to think of a reason.
“Because I don't think Kano would have summoned me if she didn't
think I could make it.”

Kinker let out a noise of disgust. “That is still
not good enough. People have died on this voyage, Malock. Not just
the ones we lost yesterday or even a few weeks ago back on Ikadori
Island. I'm talking about the other ships, the ones that were part
of the fleet. How many people were there per ship? I'm guessing a
few hundred each. That's nearly a thousand lives lost because what,
you thought a goddess summoned you?”

Malock turned back around to face Kinker. He could
feel his face turning red, but there was nothing he could do to
hide it. “Their deaths are regrettable, but that's what happens on
these kinds of voyages and they all knew that going into it. I'm
not responsible for whatever happened to them.”

“You are the Captain of this ship,” said Kinker,
pointing at him with his stick. “The Captain is responsible for the
wellbeing of every member of his crew. If you don't like that, then
maybe you should step down from your position as Captain and give
it to someone who actually gives a damn.”

“Don't talk to me that way,” said Malock. “I'm still
your Captain; more than that, I am your prince.”

Kinker laughed. “My prince? I am from Destan, not
Carnag. You seem to have forgotten that your giant boot factory of
an island isn't the entire world.”

“Giant boot factory?” said Malock. “That is such a
simple insult that I would be laughing at it right now if I wasn't
so pissed off at you.”

Kinker sighed. “Look, Malock, I am trying to help
you. I am trying to make you aware of these problems. We have
almost no edible food or drinkable water, the ship is basically a
big floating piece of wood, we've lost so many sailors now that it
doesn't even hurt anymore, and the rest of the crew is too injured
to perform even the most basic of repairs on the ship. That's why I
speak harshly and bluntly.”

Malock didn't know what to do or say. All of those
challenges Kinker mentioned were all very real and very true. He
could not think of any way to fix them, no way to convince Kinker
(or anyone else) that it was all going to work out in the end
because as far as he could tell, it was not.

“Oh, and did I forget to mention that more and more
sailors are starting to hate the gods?” Kinker said. “And not
without reason, mind you. Those southern gods are absolutely
vicious. And the northern gods have a mixed track record of being
reliable and unreliable in equal measures. What say you to
that?

Malock put his head in his hands, not wanting Kinker
to see his face. “I ... I don't know what to say to that.”

Kinker's shoulder slumped. “And neither do I. None
of us do. Perhaps none of us ever will.”

-

Later that day, yet another collective funeral was
held for the sailors who had died in the attack. As usual, they
were dumped into the ocean. There was no eulogy given, mostly
because the rest of the sailors were too wounded, tired, and
defeated to think of any inspiring words to say. A few more
precious amulets devoted to the gods went overside with the
corpses, though Malock did not know who put them there.

Not only that, but they lost three more sailors to
infection and cold shortly after the funeral. One of them would
have been Arisha Frag, their cook, but luckily Bifor managed to
cast a healing spell on her that kept her from dying. If they'd
lost their cook, Malock was certain they would really be
screwed.

Malock spent most of his free time looking at Stalf
and the giant ice walls that protected the Mechanical Goddess. He
kept wondering when those other gods were going to reappear,
knowing as he did that they loved to eat humans. He didn't think
that any of his men looked particularly tasty, but he doubted that
those gods cared about that. He doubted they care about anything
except filling their stomachs with mortal flesh and blood.

One thought that did stray across Malock's mind
every now and then was Vashnas. Because he had volunteered to help
take care of the sick and wounded sailors, he didn't get to see her
nearly as much as he would have liked. She was recovering in his
stateroom, which had somehow evaded destruction during the battle,
and unlike the others didn't suffer from any terrible injuries, so
Malock had little reason to spend much time with her.

But he did think about her. So far, her information
about the southern seas had been spotty at best. Yes, Ikadori
Island and Stalf did indeed exist and they were how she had
described them, yet her information was clearly incomplete because
she didn't know anything about the Loner God or the Mechanical
Goddess or the automatons or anything. He didn't want to, but he
was becoming more and more forced to conclude that Vashnas may have
an agenda of her own, one that ran counter to his, but for the life
of him he could not figure out what that agenda was.

He had no one to discuss these ideas with because he
had always publicly displayed his support for Vashnas. The rest of
the crew didn't like her as much as he did and if he tried to talk
with any of them about it, it might somehow get to Vashnas's ears
and that would get him into trouble. He couldn't even talk to
Banika about it, mostly because of paranoia.

The sun set and the ship got even colder. Malock
cuddled with Vashnas in his stateroom, but he remained all too
aware of the moaning sailors, some of whom he allowed to stay in
his stateroom until they were better. He wished there was something
he could do to help, but for now he was utterly powerless.