SOLO III
Demon World
Part 034
At the clearing Uncle ties the rope and is the first
one out of the stream. Cookpot shakes his head and pulls the boat
much closer and reties the rope. By the time he walks ashore
Uncle has dissappeard into the woods. He turns around and takes a
big puffy canvas bag out of the boat. Then a shovel. "Time
for work. If you ladies will excuse me." He winks and
strides over to a massive pile of dragon dung and starts pulling more
canvas bags out of the full one. Then he doesn't say anything for
quite a while while he fills the bags and ties them off.
Just after he stows the last bag on the boat Uncle
reappears. He just pops out of the woods next to the boat after
cookpot tossed the last bag in. "It was sleeping. Have you
ever accidentally killed one?"
Cookpot looks at Uncle with new respect. "You
went in the cave?" He shakes his head and his face screws up a
little like he want's to be mad at Uncle but doesn't have the
courage. "You could have brought him down on me fool."
"Accidentally killed one." Uncle says
again. He moves closer so Cookpot gets a clear look at his face
and he cocks an eyebrow like it's a question.
"Uh Aye uh. How would I know? I don't go
bloody crawlin around inside their caves. That's a fools task,
and you shouldn't a be doing it either." His face relaxes like he
can no longer bother with being angry at Uncle. "Blahhhh."
He turns to the boat. "We gotta be off, the captain won't linger
past sundown. And he'll be down right dissappointed if he doesn't
get to cast his eyes on these two lovelies."
He and Uncle climb in the boat this time, instead of
wading. Uncle unties the rope and pushes out into the middle of
the stream, and he sits in the very back. The boat flows down
toward the beach. "Captain split runs a top heavy ship.
Anyone not in the circle is cargo and balast. What can you two
ladies do. And you old timer, you're gonna have to fight to stay
onboard. Hope you can swim."
The whole time Uncle has had the glove holding the
dragon heart either behind his back or in front of him so Cookpot
couldn't see it. Right now Uncle is sitting in the front of the
boat, and Cookpot all the way in the back with his oar. Uncle
turns around on his seat to give him his first clear look. On
Uncle's right hand is the glove. Held in the glove is the
dragon's heart.
Cookpot's mouth goes slack and opens. "You
ripped its heart out with your hands?" His face wrikles up and he
squints staring deep into Uncles face. Sizing him up anew.
"Who are you old man?"
"I am nobody." He says matter of factly.
"Just an old man."
Gail and Ada are sitting on opposite side boards
facing each other at the middle of the boat. They supress giggles
at this and bob their heads a little. Cookpot is instantly
distracted by Gail.
"Bahhh. You'll have to do better than
that. Ain't nobody do that to a dragon. How much you
weigh. Seven stone maybe eight? I told. Tell me your
name."
Gail speaks up. "We spared you life.
What could we possibly owe you? A name comes at a cost. I'm
afraid you are too far in dept already."
"Hold on. We're just talking. Just
nobody does that. Just nobody." He shakes his head.
"You asked to come. You owe me a name for that. Passage is
not free." He winks at Gail.
Gail says "He's Uncle."
Cookpot looks from Gail to Ada and back again.
He sees no resemblance. He looks at Uncle. He shakes his
head. "Rich Uncle more likely. Lookin at the gowns you're
wearing." He and Uncle hop out of the boat and push it accross
the sand bar at the end of the stream. "Bet you were ship wrecked
here. But, by the look of it those clothes have been washed this
morning."
Uncle pushes with one hand and helps Cookpot work
the boat against the waves of the beach. Both hop back in as the
shore drops away. Cookpot pulls out a second oar from two hooks
under a seat and moves to the center of the boat. Gail and Ada
move to the back, passing around him.
"Maybe you two could be washer women." He fits
the oars into two oar locks. A wave rolls past and he holds the
oars up, out of the water. Then he counter rows and spins the
boat around. "Though you'd never be able to pay your way off the
ship as a washer." And he starts rowing hard, backward and
against the waves. In sixteen strokes he has cleared the break
and the swells just roll by underneath unbroken. Clear of the
break he settles into an easier stroke.
The water is crstal clear. The sand tapers off
underneath through emerald, blue, saphire, and dark violet. Your
three dragons lift off and fly out ahead to get a preview of the
ship. Slowly going higher and higher as they race out to
sea. Their wings folded in beside them. Moving at the speed
of thought. They spot the ship about half a kilometer off
shore. It's at anchor.
Instantly the astral dragons are there. Twenty
seven men on deck, and one in the lookout nest. Captain on the
bridge wearing a metal breast plate and a rapier. Four of the men
on deck have blunderbuss, the rest are shirtless sailors. In the
hold are empty crates, and two empty iron cages for animals.
There is fresh hay strewn about. The crew bunks are empty except
for one man with bandages on both his hands. In the galley are
three cabin boys helping an old cook cut vegetables for a stew.
In the captain's room is a woman sleeping in his bed. There are
bird cages in here with an owl, a raven, and a falcon.
Outside the ships name is 'profit' and the bow
carving is of a gargoyle. Right now it flys no flag. Many
of the deck hands are gathered in a circle playing cards. The
captain is leaning against a rail chatting with one of the men with a
blunderbuss and forked stand slung over his shoulder. Around the
captains neck is a collection of different coins separated by varnished
wood, hanging down over the shiny breast plate he wears. It's
laced around his neck twice and still comes down to the middle of his
sternum. It is tooled with gold vines at the hems. And
under that a long sleeve white linen shirt. He laughs at what
ever the man is saying. He has decent teeth.
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