Chapter 4
Martin’s business had a rough start that morning. Late in the night, a ship had come into port almost a month late. It had been caught in a major storm and would have to spend its next few weeks being repaired. While the ship was not insured by Martin, several of Martin’s clients had cargo on the ship. Some of it had been dumped overboard in an attempt to keep the ship afloat and the rest had been damaged by water.
By the end of the day they had paid out almost two hundred gold. Martin, obviously feeling the loss, told Tom and Rachael to close up the shop. He and Gareth would pay their respects to Captain Clark and see if they now owned anything worth salvaging.
Turning to Gareth he explained that when they paid out on cargo, they took ownership. Often in a case like this they might be able to sell some of it for scrap. The warehouse behind his shop was filled with damaged goods.
As they neared the dock, it was obvious which ship was Captain Clark’s. The main mast was broken off near the deck. Almost all the sails were ripped and torn. The patching to the sails was obviously done out of desperation. It was a miracle that the ship had made back to port and only served to reinforce Gareth’s firm conviction that man was not meant to live around all this water.
It took even less effort to determine who Captain Clark was. The man at the bow of the ship was lean, middle-aged and beaten. He barely looked up when they approached him. His first words were almost a chant. “I tried Martin, I really did. I knew it was your cargo we were dumping but the storm gods were going to take all of us unless we gave them something. Even then I lost two men. I’ve never seen the like before.”
His voice had a little tremble as he said, “I think she’s done for. I can’t afford to fix her up right. There’s no work for me on land and I can’t imagine going back to sea without my own ship.”
Gareth was struggling hard not to tell the man he was a fool to go out in the first place. Even though it was docked, the steady rock of the ship was making him queasy. Rather than display his own fears, Gareth merely said “We’re here to view the remaining cargo.” Remembering who he was supposed to be, even here, Gareth added, “If you can pull yourself out of your self-pity long enough that is.”
Martin shot Gareth a hard look but said nothing. Captain Clark stiffened and said “Quite right, this is not your problem. Follow me.”
The cargo hold was a mess. It looked like some maniac had tried to reduce all the cargo to splinters and then flood the hold with water. None of the grain was untouched, there were some caskets of liquor that were mostly unbroken and several bales of cloth that might be salvageable. There were a lot of wood scraps that might have been expensive furniture at the start of the voyage.
Gareth headed over to three crates in the corner, intending to open them. The crates were unbroken and the contents might have survived. Martin saw Gareth’s intent and told him to leave them alone, they didn’t belong to Martin.
Gareth was stunned. He said, “You have the entire manifest memorized?”
Martin’s response was equally surprising “Oh no. All the cargo that’s insured by me is marked when it’s brought on board. See that symbol on the keg over there? That’s one of my marks and lets people know that my agency covers it. If it’s found later, it’s supposed to be brought to me or one of my agents but that seldom happens.”
Looking at Martin with disbelief Gareth motioned him to come closer and asked in a low voice, “You mark all the cargo you insure? Why didn’t you tell Tobias and me about this? I think I’m looking at the information leak right now.”
Martin managed to look indignant, replying, “It’s so obvious that I never thought about it. Besides just knowing the cargo is insured by me isn’t the whole story. There’s also timing and which ship my cargo is on. There’s much more getting out of my office than just this mark.”
Gareth shook his head and still whispering said, “What else haven’t you told us?”
Martin still had anger in his eyes when he replied, “What else don’t you know? That’s why you’re supposed to be learning the business, or have you forgotten?”
At this point Gareth was certain everyone who lived by the sea was mad and he just wanted to get back to his forests. He also knew Tobias would not let them go back until this was over so he swallowed his anger and said, “You’re right, please continue the lesson.”
The smile on Martin’s face was a pale imitation of Tobias’ evil grin but Gareth knew it did not bode well for him. Turning to Captain Clark, Martin said, “Captain my nephew seems distressed by the losses and would comfort himself in drink. Could you recommend a good seafaring tavern nearby?”
Gareth did not like the wink he saw Martin give Captain Clark.
Captain Clark paused and said, “The Rusty Mermaid is nearby. It’s a little boisterous for me but your nephew might find it entertaining, especially if he has money.”
Martin nodded. “Just the place. Meanwhile, Captain if you would grab one of those casks I now own, you and I can discuss a business proposal in the privacy of your cabin.”
The Rusty Mermaid certainly lived up to Captain Clark’s description. Along with the directions, Martin had given Gareth several silver pieces and one gold piece. He apologized for the amount but said any more would probably be fatal. Captain Clark had told him to be sure and tell the bartender that the Captain has sent him, otherwise he might find himself part of a ship’s crew when he came to.
It wasn’t that Gareth had never been in a tavern before. He and Tobias often used taverns as a source of ready information. Share a few drinks a few drinks with the right people and one could learn a lot. But before those people would trust you, you had to spend time talking with them. One foot into the tavern and Gareth knew he was out of his depths. He had absolutely nothing in common with these seafaring men.
Looking at the number on people at the bar, business tonight was good but the cold stares he got also said he had gotten there too early. Far better to have come in a few hours later when they were nicely mellow and drunk. Leaving now to come back later was also out of the question. Wandering around the docks was almost an invitation to be mugged and maybe pressed. Here at least, Captain Clark’s name would give him a measure of protection.
Gareth stepped up to the bar and said to the frowning barman, “Captain Clark told me to wait here for him.” The man didn’t smile but the look on his face became ever so slightly softer. “You’re not a seadog that’s fer sure. What kind of business does Captain Clark have with the likes of you?”
“I’m Martin Rolfling’s partner. He and Captain Clark wanted to discuss this last voyage.”
“Aye, tis a sad sight to see such a beautiful ship as the Catherine in the shape she is. We’re all hoping this is not her last voyage. Would be sadder still to think of her at the bottom of the sea. Friend of Captain Clark, your first drink is on the house. May you bring him luck.”
Remembering his role, Martin decided it was time to start making friends.
“Appreciate the drink. Martin’s my uncle but he barely pays me enough to dress properly. The bastard’s so cheap, he wanted me pay for a place in town. I’m a relative and he’s got plenty of room in his mansion. The incident with the cook’s assistant was just a misunderstanding.
“You know, if I’m going to be Martin’s partner, I probably should know something about boats. Is there someone here that could teach me all I need to know while I’m waiting?
“Say, is this the best you’ve got? If I offered to share, do you think the quality would improve?”
Gareth watched the bartender’s face as it went through a number of expressions. Gareth had no idea why they cared but he knew the term boat was a big insult when he was referring to a ship. He was fairly sure that he had also managed to irritate the bartender by implying that someone could learn everything about a ship in a few hours.
Insulting the drink really didn’t count, the bartender had to know how weak the drinks were.
The bartender’s face had finally settled on a neutral expression. It wasn’t quite his normal countenance but it was far from a frown. He reached down and pulled up a medium height squat bottle and said, “I’ve been saving this for someone willing to share. Now, can you afford it?”
Gareth had no idea how much the bottle should cost but he knew he was being challenged. He reached into his pouch and pulled out the gold coin. “Will this do?” He asked.
Gareth knew he had guessed right when the bartender smiled and took the coin. Without a word he pulled out three small glasses, pulled out cork and filled two glasses. Still without a saying anything, he picked up his glass and held it out in a toast. Gareth picked up his glass and said, “To the rebirth of the Catherine.”
The bartender echoed “To the Catherine,” and took a sip. If anything, his smile became wider. He then pointed to a man seated at a nearby table. “Take this bottle over to Paul and offer to share your bottle for lessons. He will appreciate the quality of your bottle and he spent time as a teacher before he became a sailor.”
The bartender took another sip, refilled his glass and in a very loud voice said, “Paul, this young man has an offer for you. He’s a friend of Captain Clark and he bears the nectar of the gods.”
Paul was elderly, with very short hair and a face with enough lines that you felt sure there was a map there someplace. He looked at Gareth expectantly and said, “I recognize that bottle. What do you want from me?”
Gareth stepped over to Paul’s table with the empty glass and the bottle. He poured a drink for Paul and went back to the bar for his own glass. It was empty but the beatific look on the bartender’s face left no question what had happened to the contents. Shrugging, Gareth took the now empty glass to Paul’s table where he sat down.
“You have an hour to teach me everything you know about ships and their cargo.”
Paul’s laughter was open and honest. “You must be a fast learner, it took me twenty years and the captain still calls me an ignorant fool. Or do you know so little that you truly think you can learn it all in an hour.”
Gareth thought a second, weighed the pros and cons of staying in character, and decided the honest approach was called for. “Probably the latter,” he admitted. “Teach me what you can in an hour. Why does everyone get so insulted when I call one of those ships a boat?”
Paul smiled, took a sip of his drink and savored the taste for a few seconds. “You have a deal but I think I’m getting the better part of the bargain. We’ll start with your question, a boat is a small watercraft that can be carried in a ship. When you call a ship a boat you’re belittling the ship and the crew. Starting with the basics, the front of the ship is called the prow or forward…”
Tobias had taught Gareth how to nurse his drink and make it look like he had been drinking a lot more than he really was. With Paul that was easy. He was enjoying the memories of his former profession and being able to lecture a student again. By the time an hour had passed, the bottle was empty, Gareth knew more about sailing than he had ever wanted and Paul, feeling very good, decided to call it a night.
Nothing had prepared Gareth for a liquor like this though. After only four small glasses, he was in a nice mellow state and wanted nothing so much as to lay down and sleep. He knew this would be a mistake here but there was no sign of Captain Clark or Martin. As the hours passed, more and more sailors were coming into the tavern and wondering why Gareth thought he deserved a table for himself.
Sobering up slightly, Gareth realized his predicament and moved to the bar. The bartender, still happy from his sale, greeted Gareth warmly and asked him if he had learned everything about sailing ships.
“Paul was very thorough,” was the reply. “I probably know more about ships than most of the sailors.” Gareth knew he had made a mistake the moment it came out of his mouth. The look on the bartender’s face and the slight shake of his head confirmed Gareth’s mistake.
As if he had been waiting for a cue one of the sailors standing nearby turned to Gareth and in a booming voice said “Did I hear you say you knew more about sailing than any of us? Did you, a sniveling ground pounder, just challenge the rest of us to a contest?”
A few heads had already turned to look at the source of the booming voice but when he said “challenge” everybody turned to look at Gareth. With a sinking sensation, Gareth realized that no matter what he replied, he was about to become tonight’s entertainment.
Looking at the faces surrounding him, Gareth felt he was looking at a pack of wolves. Any sign of weakness would get him hurt or killed. Where was Martin anyway?
Taking a deep breath, Gareth turned to the sailor and said “A challenge? I offered no challenge. Certainly not to as easy an opponent as you. I couldn’t even brag about the winning of such a contest because there would be no achievement in beating you.”
The sailor’s color darkened slightly at the chuckles that ensued. Gareth continued “I can see why you would want a challenge but there’s no gain for me in this contest. Perhaps you could make it worth my while to let you challenge me.”
At this point, Gareth’s best hope for winning such a competition was to cause the sailor to drop dead from anger. While the man’s face darkened even more, it was obvious that this wasn’t going to be Gareth’s lucky night. From his side Gareth heard the bartender whisper, “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. Try not to get them spread all over the floor.”
The sailor forced a grin and said, “The first to answer three questions correctly gets everything the other has on them.”
Gareth paused as if to consider the offer, “Tempting but you have nothing on you that I would want. You may have a small amount of coin but I see nothing else. What is your name anyway? I can’t keep calling you, you.”
The sailor held up a cautioning hand to the bartender and with lightning speed produced a dagger. He continued the action to lay it on the bar. He gave Gareth time to see this was no ordinary dagger, then he said, “They call me Crow because I like bright things and I spend most of my time in the crow’s nest. As to what you might want, I have this.”
Gareth had read about Damascus steel. He had seen sketches of the wavy patterns but nothing prepared him for the beauty of the pattern etched into the steel. The hilt appeared to be the bone of some animal. On the side Gareth could see, an artist had carved the image of a ship facing an impending storm, using the lines to blend with the Damascus pattern as if the blade was part of the sea. Gareth couldn’t help himself, he wanted the dagger.
“Who asks the questions? One of your shipmate would give you easy questions to ensure you win.”
“You don’t know my shipmates,” Crow chuckled, knowing he had his victim now. Quickly, they had gathered a small crowd of men, all sensing entertainment. Crow pointed to a big burly man, “I reckon Big Tom has no reason to favor me. If he’s willin’, he can ask the questions.”
Gareth had no clue but he seeing the bartender give a slight nod to his head. Gareth reached into his pouch, pulled out one of the silver pieces and put it on the bar. “A good man should be rewarded for his work. Win or lose, this pays for Big Tom’s drinks tonight.”
The bartender said, “You don’t know Big Tom, that’ll be two silver for the night.”
Gareth added another silver.
Crow sensing he was losing his limelight, upped the ante. “This is a contest about the sea and it ain’t fair the sea’s not represented. We need to do this aboard a ship.” Crow jumped onto a table and motioned Gareth to do likewise. “Grab hold, boys,” Crow shouted, “we need some waves.”
The men standing round the table hefted it and soon got into a rocking motion to imitate waves. Gareth started feeling queasy.
Crow shouted, “Set her down boys, this still doesn’t feel right.” He hopped down, grabbed a bucket of what Gareth hoped was only wash water, jumped back up on the table and doused both of them with it. He then motioned for the “sea” to start again.
In spite of being cold, wet and queasy, Gareth was beginning to like Crow. Gareth had worked with a number of stage producers having less imagination than Crow. Meanwhile, Crow not wanting to lose momentum pointed to Big Tom and said, “First question to our visitor.”
Big Tom pursed his lips in thought and then said, “Where would you find the ship’s courses?”
Gareth smiled inside, realizing that he had a chance. Big Tom was asking easy questions that would confuse a land lubber. He could answer this question. With each second of delay, the “sea” got more violent. Remembering Paul’s words, he shouted, “The courses are the lower sails on a mast.” The “sea” calmed down.
Big Tom smiled and said, “Right.” He turned to Crow and said “Iffen… no, that’s one’s too easy for you. Uh, yeah, iffen the Captain gets a half share, and the officers share a quarter share, with a crew of twelve, what share does each crew member get?”
As he did the math in his head, Gareth’s heart sank, that was way too easy. Each crew member would get one forty-eighth of a share.
“Bloody hell, Tom! This ain’t no numbers game. They get way too little, that’s what they get.”
“I need a number,” came the reply.
“One-twentieth?”
“Wrong.”
Gareth’s heart gave a leap, he had a chance. As if to punish him for that thought, some wag in the audience decided wrong answers should be answered by another bucket full of cold water. Crow took the brunt of the water but Gareth received a lot of the splash as did the “sea.” That caused a lot of exclamations, some grumbling and a few seconds of very choppy water.
Turning back to Gareth, Big Tom asked his next question. “On a three masted ship, which mast is referred to as the Captain’s mast?”
“The Captain’s mast is not one of the ship’s masts. It’s a hearing in front of the Captain usually held near the main mast.”
“Right!”
As if to make up for the last question, Big Tom’s next question to Crow was one that Crow easily handled.
It made no difference. All Gareth had to do was get this next question right and he won. Gareth’s next question came and Gareth had to ask Big Tom to repeat it because it was too easy.
“Iffen the Captain gets a half share, and the officers share a quarter share, with a crew of fifteen, what share does each crew member get?” repeated Big Tom.
Gareth had already done the calculations but stalled knowing this was supposed to be hard. “Let’s see, carry the two and add the five, umm, no, that’s not right.”
The waves were getting rougher and rougher and Gareth was beginning to confuse himself. “One-sixtieth to each man,” Gareth blurted out.
Crow immediately shouted out “Wrong!”
Big Tom said “Right,” and an argument broke out. Finally everyone settled on one-sixtieth as being correct because that was the only answer that more than two people agreed on.
The ship came into port as the “sea” slowly lowered the table. Gareth was still a bit wobbly, wet and cold. He picked up the dagger and fondled it. It truly was a work of art. Gareth turned to a very dejected Crow. “This dagger is beautiful. Now that I know you, I’ll willing to bet this is known up and down the seacoast. Any man carrying it other than Crow would probably be killed before he could explain he won it.”
Crow looked up and nodded, “There’s truth in that, there is, but you’d just have to be careful around the ports.”
“This dagger is too beautiful to keep hidden and I have no desire to die. The terms were I would win everything on you. The dagger was not on you when I won so it’s still yours. You had your clothing and your purse on you when I won. I claim those as my due.”
“Uh, gov, I appreciate you letting me keep my dagger but there’s no way I’m leaving here in my all together. You don’t really want my clothing anyway.”
“Fine,” said Gareth. “We’ll trade shirts, you buy me a drink and you owe me a favor when next we meet.”
Crow looked happier but still squirmed, “About that drink, my purse is empty and he don’t extend no tab. You got my shirt and I get the better of that trade but you’ll have to do the buying.”
Gareth pulled off his shirt and handed it to Crow. Crow did likewise and then looked expectantly at the bartender. Gareth pulled out his last bit of silver. “Two drinks, keep the change.”
Late as it was, Gareth became concerned about Martin’s absence and went back to the Catherine. The man on watch would not let Gareth on board but said Martin had left over thirty minutes ago.
Now Gareth was really worried and headed off rapidly toward Martin’s estate. Almost three quarters of the way back he encountered Tobias and Martin coming his direction in the wagon. Martin had been so preoccupied with the deal he was making with Captain Clark he had forgotten Gareth. When he got back, Tobias had asked where Gareth was and Martin remembered sending him to the bar. They were on their way back to town to rescue him from the Rusty Mermaid.
Gareth, still with a pleasant fog, laughed and climbed into the wagon where he promptly fell asleep. Morning found him face down on the wagon floor, wondering which was worse, the hangover or the hangover cure. He finally settled on taking the cure and immediately regretted the decision.
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