#granted this would be faster if i were allowed to use the shape builder tool

[mars-ipan]

so close to done with these roughs.... please

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 42 of 83 : World of Sea

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 42 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

Chapter 14: Pursuit

Kurin awoke with a start.  She could feel the unmistakable roll and pitch of a ship underway.  She knew at once that it was not the Longin. Overhead she could see triangular braced beams that she knew from her tours of the Dark Dragon.  She tried to get up.  A hand on her chest, gentle, but irresistibly strong, prevented.

Sula leaned over her, smiling to see her awake.  “To answer what you have not yet asked, yes, you are on the Dark Dragon.  Yes, we are underway.  No, you were not tired out.  We almost lost you to Ord poisoning, and had to bring you with us, because we have the only antidote supplies.”

“Ord?” Kurin asked in a small voice, “Those are rare, and they have big white spines.  I’d have known, if I got anywhere near one of those.”

Grimly, Sula said, “It was Ord.  The spine was pricked into your lunch.  As a spine puncture, Ord is sudden death.  In food, Ord is a slow death. From skin contact, it is somewhere between the two.  As a smoke or mist, it is a choking death, coughing blood.  We, on the Dark Dragon and the Soaring Bird, know all too well what the symptoms are.”

“Is the Gathering over?  Where is the Longin?  Where are my friends?” Kurin’s voice rose as she asked what she most feared to find.  She could feel the long waves telling her that they were far from seas that she knew, sailing into waters that she had only read about, and swiftly going further.

“The Gathering, at least part of it, is awaiting our return,” said Sula reassuringly.  “We are on a two day search sweep, seeking the Grandalor.  If we find her, we are to return her to the Gathering Anchorage, by force, if we must.”

Kurin tried to drag the covers up as if from a chill, and suspecting the answer, asked, “Why are we hunting the Grandalor?  They’re not a nice ship, and always try to cheat in small ways, but I’ve never known them to actually break any laws.”

“They have now,” Sula leveled a finger at a bunk across from Kurin’s, where a young sailor was gasping weakly, lips and fingernails blue, blood at the corner of his mouth.  “Do you know him?  He came to us with news of the plot, and the spine in his shirt pocket.  He was able to tell us enough to prove the Grandalor’s guilt, before he was too far gone.  Doctor Worran gave him all of the antidote that his system can take.  We don’t know if he will live.  The Ord got to his lungs.”

“His name is Garfin.  He’s from the Grython.  I’ve never heard his clan name.”  Kurin tried to get up and was gently pushed back into the bunk again.

“I fear that you will be at least one, and maybe two, more days before you are out of that bunk for any reason.  I have been Ord poisoned too, in the wars.  I know that you are far weaker than you feel. Now, the good Doctor is coming with food, and you must eat it all, even if you don’t like some of it.  It is part of the treatment.”

Actually, Kurin liked the food quite well, and needed no encouragement to eat it all.  She did need help.  Her chopsticks would not stay in her grip.  As soon as she tried to grip anything, the sticks would loosen and the food would fall.  Sula fed her with a spoon and applauded her appetite.  

Sula huddled with Doctor Worran for a few minutes and went out.  Ten minutes later, she was back.  “Bless the good Doctor, Kurin.  She has agreed that, as long as you behave, and stay in bed, that you can have your rest in more interesting circumstances.”

Sula effortlessly scooped up Kurin, blankets and all, and strode out of the sickbay.  A ladder, negotiated one-handed, brought them to the deck.  Sula carried Kurin forward toward her cabin under the bridge, but bypassed it and carried Kurin up a steep staircase onto the bridge, where a cot was waiting.

The bridge was manned by a pair of lookouts, sitting on the roof, their feet dangling through hatches.  A man stood before a device that Kurin had never seen before.  It resembled, in some ways, the inside of a big running block for rigging but it was rimmed about with handles shaped like the large ends of marlin spikes.  At the center, it was fastened to a large post rising from the deck.  Along the back wall of the bridge was a bank of capped tubes that Kurin could not guess the use of.  Another man was just rolling a complicated device like two bowls out to a walkway across the front of the bridge.

Kurin, as boat-builder who also made tools, rigging parts and instruments, recognized that the upper bowl was in a gimbal mount. A weight was fastened to the bottom of the upper bowl, so that it hung down into the lower one.  Water in the lower bowl would act as a damper allowing the upper bowl to move freely in order to stay level.  A circular piece, with a small hole in it, hung over the top of the upper bowl.  

From what she knew of navigation, Kurin hazarded, “Is that how you tell latitude?”

Sula smiled broadly.  “Yes, it is.  Do you know how it works?”

Kurin thought for a moment, her brow wrinkling, “I would guess that a shaft of sunlight goes through that little hole on top and hits the inside of the bowl under it.  There are probably circles drawn on the inside to mark latitude.  You begin the sight before noon, and the highest point that the spot reaches is both your latitude and your local noon.  You can get a true east west line by putting a flat surface in the bowl and marking the line taken by the spot over a time.  The spot will always travel west to east.  The sun, in the northern hemisphere, is always on the south side of the line, so a bisector gives true north and south as well.”

Sula clapped her hands in delight, “Very well done, Kurin!”  She turned to the man at the latitude device and called out, “Morran! Kurin has never seen a latitude device like ours, and has already figured out how to use it!”

He reflexively he began to gesture, paused and replied in words, “That’s why the Dragon adopted her, and not me.  I had to study this thing for six Wohans to learn how to use it.”

“What is that big round thing rimmed with marlin spikes?” Kurin asked.

“That is the wheel, with it, we control both rudders at the same time…” she was interrupted by the sailor at the latitude device.

“Noon at my mark, one, two, Noon! 6.250!”  

“Noted, is there an elevation?” Sula asked, going to a chart table, and pulling out a much used but well cared for book.

“Getting it now, Captain!” he answered smartly.  “Dorac, at 19 and … I make it ¾0!”  

Sula plied rulers and dividers, for a bit.  “Morran, would you put the log over the side and get me a reading, when you are done?”  Morran was putting away the longitude device and the elevation measuring tool.  Kurin was watching all with curious eyes.  Morran went outside and down to deck, out of sight.  Shortly he returned.

“Ten and a half miles per hour, Captain.”

“Thank you, Morran.  Return to your duties.”  Head bent over the chart, Sula was working out a difficulty.  

“You are too far south, aren’t you?” Kurin asked from her cot.

“How did you know that?  Have you a guess how far?” asked Sula, putting her tools down and looking at Kurin with extreme interest.

“Between twenty two and twenty five miles,” said Kurin seriously.

“OK, Kurin, give,” Sula said, sitting on the edge of the cot.  “You’re right on the mark.  Why are we off?”

“I felt us enter the Cliftos Circulator’s south bearing loop this morning, early.  According to our navigation manuals, it runs about three and a half miles per hour.  That squares with what I am feeling in the waves.  The current is pushing you faster than the log will show because it’s pushing the log too.”

Sula turned to the helmsman, “Lay our course true west.  Signalman! Course change to starboard, now.”

No hard, high notes of a tocsin drum carried through the ship.  In utter silence, the crew swarmed up from whatever they had been doing, to take their places at the lines.  As the ship came about, sails were hauled into new positions for the next tack.

Sula told the signalman, “Tighten up the fore sail.”  A  few moments more of silent communication had lines drawn tighter.  “Good,” was followed by another short silence.  “Now, slack the mains, just a bit,” another quiet exchange and sailors let off line, a bit at a time until Sula sent the “Good” down to them.  “Secure all,” whether delivered by drum or the Dark Dragon’s silent communication was the one call beloved of deck-hands everywhere.  It caused a short flurry of activity as lines were secured, coiled and stowed neatly. Sailors went back to whatever they had been doing.  The Dark Dragon was now coursing toward the sun.

Kurin couldn’t help asking, “How did you change course without drums?  I never heard of any such thing.  I know that you used drums at the Gathering, I heard them.”

Sula smiled at Kurin and said, “You know that Winernight is different from your fleet, right?  I saw you looking closely at our writing.  I am not wearing my hood for your comfort.  That is not so hard for me as it is for many of the crew because I am an adopted Souther.  Using spoken words when there is light to see and my hands are not full is actually difficult.  We use Dayspeech for almost everything, if we can see.”

Sula paused and thought carefully before going on, “We do use drums near other ships if they are friendly or near a fleet anchorage.  It lets other people know that we are there.  When we hunt another ship or are simply alone, except for the Soaring Bird, we use our Dayspeech system.  It does not tell an enemy what we are going to do next.”

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : World of Sea : Part 42

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2018

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

Chapter 14: Pursuit

Kurin awoke with a start.  She could feel the unmistakable roll and pitch of a ship underway.  She knew at once that it was not the Longin. Overhead she could see triangular braced beams that she knew from her tours of the Dark Dragon.  She tried to get up.  A hand on her chest, gentle, but irresistibly strong, prevented.

Sula leaned over her, smiling to see her awake.  “To answer what you have not yet asked, yes, you are on the Dark Dragon.  Yes, we are underway.  No, you were not tired out.  We almost lost you to Ord poisoning, and had to bring you with us, because we have the only antidote supplies.”

“Ord?” Kurin asked in a small voice, “Those are rare, and they have big white spines.  I’d have known, if I got anywhere near one of those.”

Grimly, Sula said, “It was Ord.  The spine was pricked into your lunch.  As a spine puncture, Ord is sudden death.  In food, Ord is a slow death. From skin contact, it is somewhere between the two.  As a smoke or mist, it is a choking death, coughing blood.  We, on the Dark Dragon and the Soaring Bird, know all too well what the symptoms are.”

“Is the Gathering over?  Where is the Longin?  Where are my friends?” Kurin’s voice rose as she asked what she most feared to find.  She could feel the long waves telling her that they were far from seas that she knew, sailing into waters that she had only read about, and swiftly going further.

“The Gathering, at least part of it, is awaiting our return,” said Sula reassuringly.  “We are on a two day search sweep, seeking the Grandalor.  If we find her, we are to return her to the Gathering Anchorage, by force, if we must.”

Kurin tried to drag the covers up as if from a chill, and suspecting the answer, asked, “Why are we hunting the Grandalor?  They’re not a nice ship, and always try to cheat in small ways, but I’ve never known them to actually break any laws.”

“They have now,” Sula leveled a finger at a bunk across from Kurin’s, where a young sailor was gasping weakly, lips and fingernails blue, blood at the corner of his mouth.  “Do you know him?  He came to us with news of the plot, and the spine in his shirt pocket.  He was able to tell us enough to prove the Grandalor’s guilt, before he was too far gone.  Doctor Worran gave him all of the antidote that his system can take.  We don’t know if he will live.  The Ord got to his lungs.”

“His name is Garfin.  He’s from the Grython.  I’ve never heard his clan name.”  Kurin tried to get up and was gently pushed back into the bunk again.

“I fear that you will be at least one, and maybe two, more days before you are out of that bunk for any reason.  I have been Ord poisoned too, in the wars.  I know that you are far weaker than you feel. Now, the good Doctor is coming with food, and you must eat it all, even if you don’t like some of it.  It is part of the treatment.”

Actually, Kurin liked the food quite well, and needed no encouragement to eat it all.  She did need help.  Her chopsticks would not stay in her grip.  As soon as she tried to grip anything, the sticks would loosen and the food would fall.  Sula fed her with a spoon and applauded her appetite.  

Sula huddled with Doctor Worran for a few minutes and went out.  Ten minutes later, she was back.  “Bless the good Doctor, Kurin.  She has agreed that, as long as you behave, and stay in bed, that you can have your rest in more interesting circumstances.”

Sula effortlessly scooped up Kurin, blankets and all, and strode out of the sickbay.  A ladder, negotiated one-handed, brought them to the deck.  Sula carried Kurin forward toward her cabin under the bridge, but bypassed it and carried Kurin up a steep staircase onto the bridge, where a cot was waiting.

The bridge was manned by a pair of lookouts, sitting on the roof, their feet dangling through hatches.  A man stood before a device that Kurin had never seen before.  It resembled, in some ways, the inside of a big running block for rigging but it was rimmed about with handles shaped like the large ends of marlin spikes.  At the center, it was fastened to a large post rising from the deck.  Along the back wall of the bridge was a bank of capped tubes that Kurin could not guess the use of.  Another man was just rolling a complicated device like two bowls out to a walkway across the front of the bridge.

Kurin, as boat-builder who also made tools, rigging parts and instruments, recognized that the upper bowl was in a gimbal mount. A weight was fastened to the bottom of the upper bowl, so that it hung down into the lower one.  Water in the lower bowl would act as a damper allowing the upper bowl to move freely in order to stay level.  A circular piece, with a small hole in it, hung over the top of the upper bowl.  

From what she knew of navigation, Kurin hazarded, “Is that how you tell latitude?”

Sula smiled broadly.  “Yes, it is.  Do you know how it works?”

Kurin thought for a moment, her brow wrinkling, “I would guess that a shaft of sunlight goes through that little hole on top and hits the inside of the bowl under it.  There are probably circles drawn on the inside to mark latitude.  You begin the sight before noon, and the highest point that the spot reaches is both your latitude and your local noon.  You can get a true east west line by putting a flat surface in the bowl and marking the line taken by the spot over a time.  The spot will always travel west to east.  The sun, in the northern hemisphere, is always on the south side of the line, so a bisector gives true north and south as well.”

Sula clapped her hands in delight, “Very well done, Kurin!”  She turned to the man at the latitude device and called out, “Morran! Kurin has never seen a latitude device like ours, and has already figured out how to use it!”

He reflexively he began to gesture, paused and replied in words, “That’s why the Dragon adopted her, and not me.  I had to study this thing for six Wohans to learn how to use it.”

“What is that big round thing rimmed with marlin spikes?” Kurin asked.

“That is the wheel, with it, we control both rudders at the same time...” she was interrupted by the sailor at the latitude device.

“Noon at my mark, one, two, Noon! 6.250!”  

“Noted, is there an elevation?” Sula asked, going to a chart table, and pulling out a much used but well cared for book.

“Getting it now, Captain!” he answered smartly.  “Dorac, at 19 and . . . I make it 3/40!”  

Sula plied rulers and dividers, for a bit.  “Morran, would you put the log over the side and get me a reading, when you are done?”  Morran was putting away the longitude device and the elevation measuring tool.  Kurin was watching all with curious eyes.  Morran went outside and down to deck, out of sight.  Shortly he returned.

“Ten and a half miles per hour, Captain.”

“Thank you, Morran.  Return to your duties.”  Head bent over the chart, Sula was working out a difficulty.  

“You are too far south, aren’t you?” Kurin asked from her cot.

“How did you know that?  Have you a guess how far?” asked Sula, putting her tools down and looking at Kurin with extreme interest.

“Between twenty two and twenty five miles,” said Kurin seriously.

“OK, Kurin, give,” Sula said, sitting on the edge of the cot.  “You’re right on the mark.  Why are we off?”

“I felt us enter the Cliftos Circulator’s south bearing loop this morning, early.  According to our navigation manuals, it runs about three and a half miles per hour.  That squares with what I am feeling in the waves.  The current is pushing you faster than the log will show because it’s pushing the log too.”

Sula turned to the helmsman, “Lay our course true west.  Signalman! Course change to starboard, now.”

No hard, high notes of a tocsin drum carried through the ship.  In utter silence, the crew swarmed up from whatever they had been doing, to take their places at the lines.  As the ship came about, sails were hauled into new positions for the next tack.

Sula told the signalman, “Tighten up the fore sail.”  A  few moments more of silent communication had lines drawn tighter.  “Good,” was followed by another short silence.  “Now, slack the mains, just a bit,” another quiet exchange and sailors let off line, a bit at a time until Sula sent the “Good” down to them.  “Secure all,” whether delivered by drum or the Dark Dragon's silent communication was the one call beloved of deck-hands everywhere.  It caused a short flurry of activity as lines were secured, coiled and stowed neatly. Sailors went back to whatever they had been doing.  The Dark Dragon was now coursing toward the sun.

Kurin couldn't help asking, “How did you change course without drums?  I never heard of any such thing.  I know that you used drums at the Gathering, I heard them.”

Sula smiled at Kurin and said, “You know that Winernight is different from your fleet, right?  I saw you looking closely at our writing.  I am not wearing my hood for your comfort.  That is not so hard for me as it is for many of the crew because I am an adopted Souther.  Using spoken words when there is light to see and my hands are not full is actually difficult.  We use Dayspeech for almost everything, if we can see.”

Sula paused and thought carefully before going on, “We do use drums near other ships if they are friendly or near a fleet anchorage.  It lets other people know that we are there.  When we hunt another ship or are simply alone, except for the Soaring Bird, we use our Dayspeech system.  It does not tell an enemy what we are going to do next.”

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea