33 Ymiden 717
Climbing to the crow’s nest was a challenge in itself, especially when the wind was up. Wendell took it steady, watching where his feet went to make sure they were secure on the rope netting before reaching up for the next grip. At the top of the mast, he climbed into the crow’s nest and lifted the looking glass from his pocket, turning south to check the distance they had travelled overnight. With no landmass in sight, Wendell knew they had moved out of Rynmere’s waters and were nearing a smaller landmass to the north. In the distance he thought he could see it the islan, but it was further east than he had expected. “We’ve gone off course,” he said to himself, checking his map before looking across the masts to see that all sails were open. Turning the ship about, he knew, could be tricky without the right maneuvering when the breeze was this strong.
They would need to use a technique called tacking in order to point themselves in the right direction, but Wendell needed the full attention of his crew in order to achieve such a feat. He rang the bell at the top of the mast, and Haraji appeared below him on the deck.
“Haul up the spanker!” Wendell gave the order. “Fifteen degrees, turn starboard!”
Haraji crossed the deck quickly to relay the message. “Clew up the mainsail men!”
“Ready about!” another man called.
The ship started a slow turn, moving as if to travel in a wide half circle. The ship’s heading was altered to starboard, and Wendell yelled at the top of his lungs to give the men the hurry up. “Slack off the headsail sheets!”
The sheets let go as the ropes were loosened, falling slack against the wind before whipping about with no weight to hold them. The man at the helm called up to him, “aft let go!”
The sails on the back caught the wind and started pushing the bow around to starboard. “Brace round forward! Wendell replied, feeling a little green as the ship swayed. As soon a the headsail started to fill again, the ship was brought around, Wendell waved, holding his fingers out splayed. “Ease out the spanker!”
The spanker sheet was eased off by the men, and the mainsail was set again. The crew stood ready at the weather braces as Wendell checked their direction again. He peered through the looking glass and squinted, spotting a boat on the horizon, one noway near as large as the galleon, but that meant it was probably faster. Wendell stared through the looking glass for some time, trying to catch sight of a flag or colour.
“Iron Hand,” he said, their sails made that clear. He collapsed the looking glass and slipped it back into his pocket.
Over the edge of the crow’s nest, he climbed down the netting and was happy to have his feet on the main deck once more. “What is it, Captain?” Haraji asked.
“Iron Hand making a beeline for us, they will be on us within the next break. Secure the goods and have the men clean up their cabins, I don't want to give them any reason to stay aboard.”
“What about the prisoner?” Haraji asked.
“I’ll deal with her, you make sure everything else is in order.”
“What about Freya?”
“I'm sure she's about.”
Haraji nodded and jogged along the deck. “Hide your gold, boys!”
Wendell disappeared into his cabin and made sure the gold and drugs were hidden away before locking up. He walked towards the rest of the living quarters and knocked on doors. The galleon took a crew of thirty men to sail well, and Wendell had only just managed to gather enough to see them out of Rynmere, knowing he would lose a handful in Rharne for different warrants they had out for their arrests. The trouble was, he couldn't afford to lose them before then or it would be even more difficult to get the ship to their destination.
“Make sure you have your papers ready!” he said, and made his way down the hall to find the stairs, and headed down into the holding area where a lot of their stock was kept.
It was there he found Freya, sitting in one of the hammocks near the holding pen for the horses. “I don’t know how you can stand the smell in here,” he turned his nose up, the youngest crew members seemed to need another kick up the backside for letting it get so messy.
“Iron Hand ship is heading our way. I hope they aren’t looking for you,” he said. “We have two hundred barrels of grog onboard to deliver to Rharne by the sixty fifth of this season or they will tear up the trade contract I purchased with the change from paying off this thing.” In other words, he couldn’t afford to waste time entertaining U’frek Sailors. “I don’t suppose you have your papers?” he wondered then, if Freya’s papers were in the bag he had saved from Ne’haer, “I suppose if you’re on their most wanted list it won’t matter,” though he doubted her name had gotten any further than Rharne where she was meant to have hanged.
There were plenty of hiding places on the ship otherwise, but Wendell hoped it wouldn’t come to that. “Caed tells me he’s had some of his drugs go missing in the last trial or two,” Wendell turned his eye on Freya and leaned against the makeshift stock fencing, as if to ask, without asking, if she might happen to know where it had gotten to.
A strange thought crossed his mind then, one that made the man’s stomach turn. What if the ship had caught up to them to take Freya back, what if her new family actually gave a damn? He pushed the thought from his mind, she had chosen to stay after all, had she not?
“He thinks it's the new kid, Gavin. I might cut his fingers off and find out.”



