Insects buzzed overhead, chased by rainy breezes and the call of colourful forest birds. While the forests above the murky saltwater bog were nowhere near as dense or layered as the rainforest in High Raena—where the Boundless Star had set out on their ill-fated voyage—they were humid enough to coat all of Tali’s bare skin with sweat.
It was toiling work moving through the jungle. As much as possible, she and Quarit avoided using their machetes to hack a path. They picked their way along the hunters’ ways, collecting kills from the traps that had been sprung. Sometimes, when losing the way or attempting to discern the landmarks on their makeshift map, they were forced to hack through the taller grasses and oppressive underbrush.
Quarit was talkative for a mercenary. Tali enjoyed the diversion—it was hard work and she felt a long, long way from home. If she had been on the ship on a day this hot, she might have contemplated stripping down to her trousers. As it was, she wore a breezy tunic to protect her skin from the rough leather straps of the pack she bore, and the familiar line of the bowstring strung around her torso. A band wrapped around her short hair and a cloth covered the latest addition to the pictorial tattoo on her right leg.
“Bit longer away than we planned—got any plans when we return to Eastpoint?” Quarit asked, as they found an animal trail, zigzagging across the noisy forest floor. “Captain better give us some respite before we set out again, after all this.”
After all, the Boundless had been beached for a month now. Repairs were nearly done, but tensions with the Crown Traveller and Councillor Cassiya were rising, and time was slipping by them. Tali thought about Quarit’s question, perplexed. It had been nine months now, since Tali enlisted with the Company, but the crew had only been given a few weeks of shore leave since then. “Huh,” she muttered. “Truth of it is, I hadn’t considered what to do between jobs. I’ll probably see if I can check in on Ma—she’s been lonely ever since I’ve set off to sea.” She shrugged. “But after that, who knows. I’m not really good at relaxing, you know? How about you? The usual—drink… women?” Her awkward laugh came off a little too forced, she thought, once she heard it.
Quarit chuckled though. “Certainly—though in my case, I have the only woman for me waiting in the harbour…likely worried sick.”
A relieved grin came to Tali’s lips. She gave him an elbow as she hurried ahead. “A special lady? How romantic! I can see it now—her standing on the dock, clutching an old shirt or something. Like right out of a story.” Tali turned back to her comrade, turning her mock skip into a measuring gaze. “But I thought the hero was supposed to be handsome.”
The mercenary lowered his machete and used his free hand to push his dark, neck-length hair back, first one side, then the other. He puffed up his chest. “I redeem my rough complexion with strength and valour, of course. Not all of us can be young, fair, and so used to life on land,” he said, directing the last bit at her relative lack of seafaring experience.
It was a sore spot for Tali, but she clenched her jaw. “Gimme a couple more months and you’ll be asking me for advice, ya grizzled old seadog.” She quickly changed the topic as they continued their way past a low-hanging curtain of moss and wide leaves. “But that’ll be months anyway, right? I’m more worried about when we get back to camp. Hope the traps have something decent. We young, fair folk need real meat!”
“A couple months, yes,” Quarit said. They found another rahgan caught in a rope trap. Quarit finished the squirming, oversized rodent off with his machete, then wiped the small angle of blood away on a leaf. They added it to Tali’s pack. As he rose, he hesitated. “Did you hear that?”
Tali had heard nothing. “What? No?” She glanced around them in a circle, and then stepped closer to Quarit. “Did the other hunters mention seeing anything out here?”
“No… but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing,” Quarit whispered. “Probably just my nerves, but let’s take a quiet look around?”
“Of course,” Tali said. She glanced up the nearest tree, eyeing its wide, reliable branches. “Should I get a look at the area?”
Quarit gave her a nod and then moved off to the side of a denser copse of adolescent saplings.
“Careful,” Tali called after him. She unslung the heavy pack of bloodied critters and set it against the base of the tree. Then, carefully, she clambered up the branches. The forest had two canopy layers, so she paused before breaking the top layer. Even from here it was hard to see the forest floor. She had pulled her bow off her shoulders once she had a good perch, just for good measure.
The only movement she saw, aside from weaving mice and the like, was Quarit himself. Despite him being plainly visible from this angle, he moved with incredible silence. Tali was impressed. After giving it a few moments, she relaxed. She dropped down a branch, then sat down on the supportive arm. She called toward him, “I think you were right—you’re just unhinged!”
He started back, cursing.
Once he was closer, Tali added, “There’s nothing out here but fat mice.”
“Sorry for the needless alarm,” Quarit muttered, sheepishly. “Onward, then.”
Tali slid down from her perch and reclaimed the pack of their prey. The other, professional hunters would have brought back some larger kills by now, likely. They continued on their designated path, nonetheless. After they hacked their way through another dense grove, they paused to catch their breath and wipe the dripping sweat from their faces.
“’You ever seen a Primal?” Quarit asked, glancing around again.
Tali grinned. “Vaniya’s kin?” she asked. Then she shrugged. “Yeah, a couple. Not many though, and never up close. Why—you think they’re out here?” She glanced around as though the trees might be suddenly packed with them. “We haven’t seen any signs and we should have—out here, they wouldn’t know to steer clear of people.”
“You’re probably right,” Quarit said, shifting his stance wearily. “Though…I always feel like they’re watching me when I’m in the forest.”
“Likely just because the trees are close together,” Tali scoffed, “instead of separated by hundreds of miles of flat water. It’s like sea legs—you just get used to it.”
Quarit nodded, though his face was grim.
Tali let her smile fade. “Wait—is that? A primal!” She jumped at Quarit with her hands raised like claws, but soon broke down into laughter. She started walking ahead, while he glared at her. “Come on—let’s keep going. Something out here may or may not eat us, but if we’re too late getting back it won’t matter. Aylod’ll skin us just as bad.”
They soon finished their route of landmarks and makeshift directions. With heavy packs, they rejoined the other hunters. Together, the hunting shift returned to the swampy lowlands. It was slow going and the air only grew more humid. The Boundless Star rested on its muddy bank, tilted at an uncomfortable angle though the hull repairs were nearly done. The rudder had, according to Captain Guthon, already been returned to working order.
As her beleaguered party reached the outer ring of wooden shacks and campfires, Tali noticed that a number of the mercenaries were pacing around—anger in their eyes. Something was up—even the rest shift seemed to be up and about, though they had worked on repairs throughout the night. Tali handed off her hunting pack to quartermaster Aylod before tracking down Rel, her closest friend amongst the mercenaries.
Rel was amongst those roused, but he stopped his pacing and sat with Tali near the shore. They watched the waves lapping at the Crown Traveller where it was anchored about a mile out. It seemed the crew of both ships had been up to no good—Rel recounted that a sergeant of the Councillor’s guards had come ashore with a half-dozen soldiers. They had laid out an accusation to Captain Guthon that some of the Boundless’ crew were in league with their own crew. They had, during one night, snuck out aboard a rowboat and stolen a keg of ale from the Traveller. Councillor Cassiya had seen to punishing those of her own vessel that had taken part, but the sergeant that had come ashore demanded that Captain Guthon balance the scales by handing over one of their own kegs.
Captain Guthon had refused, according to Rel. “He said that we hadn’t the time to drink such amounts of ale, with all the work we’re putting into repairs,” Rel explained. “And he even said that it must have been all crew from the Traveller that had downed the ale.”
Of course, the sergeant of Cassiya’s guard took this as an insult, but he agreed to advise the Councillor accordingly. When the guards had departed, Guthon had called upon the crew, demanding that if anyone had stolen the keg, they ought to come forward immediately or face his wrath later. None had come forward.
“That’s outrageous,” Tali said, when Rel was done. She glared across the waters toward the anchored ship. They could have sailed back to Eastpoint without the Boundless Star and her crew, but—of course—the Councillor feared the news of abounding piracy from the Great Isle. “On two levels actually—because, you know, if someone did sneak some ale and we didn’t get any…”
Rel snorted.
“So, what now then?” Tali asked her friend. “We just keep working on the ship and wait for the Councillor to decide if she’s docking our pay or not?”
“I suppose so,” Rel muttered. He rubbed his scruffy chin. “I’m sure the Captain will get us paid no matter how high the water rises, after this mess.” He bobbed his head toward the beached ship. “He did defend us to the guards, at least.”
That night, Tali restlessly sought sleep in the sweaty air of the women’s shack. There were only a few women among the Boundless’ crew; while on the seas, the crew bunked by seniority and role assignment, but it had been decided to shelter those on the shore by gender for practicality. Before any dreams had come, Tali heard splashing and a wordless shout beyond the safety of the wooden cabin. A few of the other mercenary women had drawn their weapons before Tali could react, but the Captain’s furious voice did not call for alarm.
Instead, Guthon bellowed, “You really think I wouldn’t guard the rowboats after today’s visit? Tears of Atmos!” Then, quieter, Tali heard him order, “Bring them—I’ll have them flogged in the morning.”
Mostly, Tali was confused and shocked that some of her own crew were so daft. Her curiosity got the best of her and she tried to sneak around the cots in the shack with the stealth Quarit had shown in the forest. She managed to reach the door and, with one other sailor, peaked out at the shore. Captain Guthon and a group of armed warriors escorted the guilty few away. Among them were three sailors that Tali had worked alongside and one of the mercenaries with whom Rel didn’t get along.
“Gods,” Tali cursed, beneath her breath. She withdrew into the darkness of the shack once more. She had never seen a flogging and was not sure she wanted to either. Back her cot, sleep proved hard to find.