Hmm, a blind spot. I am tempted to write about a blind dog called Spot (if I remember right, Cerberus means "spotted" in Ancient Greek, so...) but maybe you're hoping for something else?
A blind spot "Push him over the side?" Kraulik had appeared at my elbow, and I turned my head to meet his gaze. It was steady, he had brown eyes that met mine and didn't flinch. "No," I said slowly. "It's not like anyone would fail to guess where he'd gone, and then we've got everyone wondering who killed him. Let's put him back in his room. If he dies there people might just think he drank himself to death." Kraulik sighed. "Think we can get him there without being seen?" I nodded. "Yeah. He's the only person I saw coming down here and everyone knows he's drunk all the time. You grab one shoulder, I'll grab the other and we'll make it look like we're putting him to bed rather than leaving him out for the seagulls to peck." Kraulik laughed. "I haven't even seen an albatross out here," he said. "Too far from land for any birds."
We got him back to his cabin with a little bit of swearing and more effort than I'd imagined. He was light enough at first, but the weight seemed to grow exponentially and Kraulik was definitely letting me shoulder more of it. He might have been tired from putting the mats back, or he might have been lazy. Either way, I was out-of-breath and sweating lightly when Kraulik opened a door, fumbled a light-switch on, and we saw Chuckles's cabin. I hauled Chuckles to his bunk, whose sheets were stained and rumpled. I dropped him onto them; it didn't look like he bothered to make it ever so there seemed no need to straighten them out. The room reeked of weeks-old sweat, unwashed clothes and alcohol; it was like being at a cheese-and-wine party that had been going on non-stop for two years. There wasn't much in the room -- none of us had been given permission to bring personal belongings when we were press-ganged aboard, and there wasn't much on the ship to really claim as your own -- but there were some papers and a book on a desk below a porthole. Kraulik turned the book over to look at the title. "No title," he grunted. He opened the book, checking for a title page, and frowned. He turned a few pages, and then flipped the cover closed again. "Written in a foreign language." I speak a couple of European languages and did a semester of Sumerian twenty years ago so I rolled Chuckles onto his side and looked at the book myself while Kraulik fingered the papers. The book was not written in any language I recognised either, for all it used the Latin alphabet. "Look at this," said Kraulik softly. I looked at the papers. One was headed, "The blind spot" and was actually an oceanographic map. "Is this where we are?" I asked, staring at a map that appeared to be all water except right at the edges. "I think so," said Kraulik. "Middle of bloody nowhere. But look at the rest." There were two pages that were headed "Translation of Nguki g'ptan kik lethess'ala which I guessed was the book, and underneath them there was a hand-drawn map of a deck of a ship. I guessed again that this was our ship; seemed silly to be any other ship. There was an X marked on there, and "blind spot" written beneath it again. Then there was a page with larger handwriting that just had "We are all fools! Tasty, tasty fools!" "What the hell?" I stared at Kraulik.
I promise I wrote this before I read Greg's -- apparently we have shipboard life on the brain. =================== Olly and I had successfully talked our way onto the ship, and we had been at sea a couple weeks now, heading for the outer reaches of the empire. I pulled lookout duty for today, high in the crow's nest, although it was more like a dragon's nest today. The sun was bright on the sea and I squinted to make anything out. Olly flew loops around my head and shoulders. Suddenly he squawked and his thought came into my mind That's strange! What was strange? I noticed a bright patch of sea wasn't staying in one place but seemed to be following our ship, and coming closer. I had an urge to look away from it and say nothing. It must be a pirate ship with a mage aboard to hide them from our sight and confuse the lookout. With an effort, I reached over to the large bell beside me and clanged the clapper. Between clangs, I shouted. "Pirates to starboard! Pirates!"
Greg - hah, that would have been an unexpected take on the prompt. I appreciate your restraint though, as I obviously just want you to keep writing this story.
Well, that's some unsettling discoveries. Well, mostly that last bit is unsettling I suppose. Perhaps there is more to Chuckles than meets the eye.
Or was, at the very least.
Morganna - that's a clever pirate tactic for sure! Curious to see what happens next here.
3 comments:
Hmm, a blind spot. I am tempted to write about a blind dog called Spot (if I remember right, Cerberus means "spotted" in Ancient Greek, so...) but maybe you're hoping for something else?
A blind spot
"Push him over the side?" Kraulik had appeared at my elbow, and I turned my head to meet his gaze. It was steady, he had brown eyes that met mine and didn't flinch.
"No," I said slowly. "It's not like anyone would fail to guess where he'd gone, and then we've got everyone wondering who killed him. Let's put him back in his room. If he dies there people might just think he drank himself to death."
Kraulik sighed. "Think we can get him there without being seen?"
I nodded. "Yeah. He's the only person I saw coming down here and everyone knows he's drunk all the time. You grab one shoulder, I'll grab the other and we'll make it look like we're putting him to bed rather than leaving him out for the seagulls to peck."
Kraulik laughed. "I haven't even seen an albatross out here," he said. "Too far from land for any birds."
We got him back to his cabin with a little bit of swearing and more effort than I'd imagined. He was light enough at first, but the weight seemed to grow exponentially and Kraulik was definitely letting me shoulder more of it. He might have been tired from putting the mats back, or he might have been lazy. Either way, I was out-of-breath and sweating lightly when Kraulik opened a door, fumbled a light-switch on, and we saw Chuckles's cabin.
I hauled Chuckles to his bunk, whose sheets were stained and rumpled. I dropped him onto them; it didn't look like he bothered to make it ever so there seemed no need to straighten them out. The room reeked of weeks-old sweat, unwashed clothes and alcohol; it was like being at a cheese-and-wine party that had been going on non-stop for two years. There wasn't much in the room -- none of us had been given permission to bring personal belongings when we were press-ganged aboard, and there wasn't much on the ship to really claim as your own -- but there were some papers and a book on a desk below a porthole. Kraulik turned the book over to look at the title.
"No title," he grunted. He opened the book, checking for a title page, and frowned. He turned a few pages, and then flipped the cover closed again. "Written in a foreign language."
I speak a couple of European languages and did a semester of Sumerian twenty years ago so I rolled Chuckles onto his side and looked at the book myself while Kraulik fingered the papers. The book was not written in any language I recognised either, for all it used the Latin alphabet.
"Look at this," said Kraulik softly. I looked at the papers.
One was headed, "The blind spot" and was actually an oceanographic map.
"Is this where we are?" I asked, staring at a map that appeared to be all water except right at the edges.
"I think so," said Kraulik. "Middle of bloody nowhere. But look at the rest."
There were two pages that were headed "Translation of Nguki g'ptan kik lethess'ala which I guessed was the book, and underneath them there was a hand-drawn map of a deck of a ship. I guessed again that this was our ship; seemed silly to be any other ship. There was an X marked on there, and "blind spot" written beneath it again. Then there was a page with larger handwriting that just had "We are all fools! Tasty, tasty fools!"
"What the hell?" I stared at Kraulik.
I promise I wrote this before I read Greg's -- apparently we have shipboard life on the brain.
===================
Olly and I had successfully talked our way onto the ship, and we had been at sea a couple weeks now, heading for the outer reaches of the empire. I pulled lookout duty for today, high in the crow's nest, although it was more like a dragon's nest today. The sun was bright on the sea and I squinted to make anything out. Olly flew loops around my head and shoulders. Suddenly he squawked and his thought came into my mind That's strange! What was strange? I noticed a bright patch of sea wasn't staying in one place but seemed to be following our ship, and coming closer. I had an urge to look away from it and say nothing. It must be a pirate ship with a mage aboard to hide them from our sight and confuse the lookout. With an effort, I reached over to the large bell beside me and clanged the clapper. Between clangs, I shouted. "Pirates to starboard! Pirates!"
Greg - hah, that would have been an unexpected take on the prompt. I appreciate your restraint though, as I obviously just want you to keep writing this story.
Well, that's some unsettling discoveries. Well, mostly that last bit is unsettling I suppose. Perhaps there is more to Chuckles than meets the eye.
Or was, at the very least.
Morganna - that's a clever pirate tactic for sure! Curious to see what happens next here.
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