The sand timer, p.17
The Sand Timer, page 17
‘The Gods want to satisfy his wishes and help him.’
‘Thanks.’
‘And Dothora advised him: “Let you travel to the Oasis of Wretchedness and let you drink five mouthfuls of its black water at midnight when it is darker than dark. Then ten days will remain for you to find your calling.”
‘Wanda wasted no time. He bade farewell to his wife and travelled through the Great Desert to the Oasis of Wretchedness. His journey was onerous and exhausting. He managed to reach the Oasis of Wretchedness on the day before the new moon. He fell to his knees, parched with thirst and wearier than weary. His strength expended, his waterskin empty, his throat dry, there was nothing that he wanted to do more than throw himself into the cool waters. But he caught sight of a traveller, who was clutching his stomach and groaning in agony. The poor man gasped: “Do not drink the water from this oasis – it is poisonous.”
‘The man vomited and died.
‘Wanda was terrified. Had his journey been an act of futility? But then he decided to keep faith with Lithor and Dothora. Although he was terribly thirsty, he did not touch the water before midnight. No beam of moonlight, no flame of a torch bore witness as the kneeling Wanda lowered his waterskin and filled it from the pool before slaking his thirst with five large mouthfuls of the liquid.
‘Nothing happened. Just when Wanda began to fear that he had done wrong, he felt feathers sprouting out of his arms. He shrunk back in terror. Too late. His head was shrinking, his nose was turning into a hooked beak, his feet were becoming claws. Wanda was transformed into the king of the air – an eagle.’
Brawl whispered into Karek’s ear: ‘Mane is a really terrible liar, isn’t he? I mean – it’s impossible for a human to be turned into an eagle.’
The prince held his hand to Brawl’s ear: ‘It is only a fairy tale, Brawl. In such stories, dreams and reality often get mixed up together. The trick is to listen until the end of the story.’
The men at the campfire were spellbound as they looked at Mane. He had succeeded in bringing the listeners along with Wanda on his travels.
‘Wanda looked at his plumage, spread his mighty wings and thought: “What now? Is this my calling?”
‘After the initial shock, he was overcome by weariness. The onerous journey to the Oasis of Wretchedness was extracting its tribute. Exhausted, he snuggled his head under his wing – as if he had done this a thousand times before – and dropped off to sleep.
‘The following morning, he woke up and began to laugh about his crazy dream, but only a scream, high and piercing, came forth from his beak. He was still an eagle.
‘“What does an eagle do? Fly, first of all!” he thought.
‘Wanda flew up into the air. The Oasis of Wretchedness with its pool and its palm trees became smaller and smaller. Now he could only see a puddle surrounded by yellow sands stretching out in all directions. Wanda soared up and up. Even the desert was now finite beneath him. To the west were the mighty Ore Mountains, to the east, the old graveyard city, surrounded by a seemingly endless wall.
‘He felt the wind and the sun, and he was jubilant. He flew a little, folded his wings and tried to dive, only to spread his wings again and soar upwards. In this way, Wanda flew towards the northwest. He floated over the peaks of the highest mountains and flew above meadows that were greener than any he had seen before.’
‘The Kingdom of Winslorien,’ whispered Karek into Brawl’s ear.
His eyes fell on Impy. The little lad was staring hard at Mane’s lips while he absently chewed on his own.
Blinn was repeatedly tracing the scar on his face with his forefinger.
‘Past the peaks of the Tower Mountains that soared into the clouds. Soon, Wanda landed on one of the massifs. There he met some of his own kind – golden eagles brooding in the heights.
‘“Do you know my calling?” he asked them.
‘But the eagles only shrugged their wings – they could not help him.
‘A few days later, he flew on to the jagged coast, and from there to the north, where the cold forced him to fly at a lower altitude. He allowed the wind to drive him eastward over snow-capped trees. The sight of so much whiteness, its sacredness, the magnificence of the landscape – everything took his breath away.’
‘Alandar in the north,’ whispered the prince.
‘Wanda spent the night in a small cave, which provided refuge from the bitter cold. There he met more of his kind – the snow eagles.
‘“Do you know my calling?”
‘But the eagles only shrugged their wings – they could not help him.
‘Hence, the next day he continued his flight – towards the southeast. There, too, forests and rivers impressed him greatly – the world down there looked so much more peaceful and beautiful than anywhere else.’
‘Toladar,’ whispered Karek with a smile of satisfaction.
‘Wanda reached the sandy coasts and flew east towards the open sea. He saw the high waves and behind it, a mass of peaked mists before he veered west and reached the lighthouse on the south coast. He landed on its spire. A fish eagle landed beside him and peered at him quizzically.
‘Do you know my calling?’
‘But the eagle only shrugged his wings – he could not help him.
‘The last stop-off on his journey by air brought him far into the Southern Sea. Three large mother islands, bright spots with an amazing variety of wildlife on them in the middle of the blue sea and surrounded by speckles – their island sons and daughters – left him with indelible impressions of the world’s natural beauty.
‘On the tenth day of his transformation, he found himself approaching Akkadesh from the sea. From far above, he overlooked his crooked hut not far from the splendid palace of the king with its golden towers and minarets. Yet, he felt no envy, only an unfamiliar happiness at having been privileged to experience such impressions, views and manifestations of beauty. No person before, not even the mightiest of the mightiest – the king himself – had seen what he had seen.
‘He landed directly in front of the entrance to his hut and immediately became the man that he had been before – Wanda the Luckless. His wife threw her arms around him. She had feared for his life. He told her of his experiences. She shook her head. “How wonderful and strange. But how will these adventures put bread on our table?”
‘“Do not worry – I will think of something.”
‘That night he had intercourse with his wife for the first time in a long time.’
Brawl whispered: ‘What’s that? Had intercourse with?’
Karek leaned into him and whispered: ‘They screwed each other.’
Brawl nodded, satisfied. ‘Oh, I see. Good.’
‘The following morning, Wanda said: “Wife – one thing has become clear to me. Neither my friends, nor the eagles, nor even you can help me to find my calling. I must do so myself. All I need is charcoal and papyrus, and then I will draw the world as it has never been drawn before.”
‘In no time at all, Wanda put to paper what his eagle eyes had seen. His talent for sketching the mountains, the lakes and the coasts soon spread far and wide. His maps of all the seas and lands of the world became famous and sold for goodly amounts of gold.
‘It had taken Wanda a long time to find his calling. He became the most important cartographer of the age – indeed, of all ages. His courage and trust in following the commands of the esteemed deities enabled him and his wife to live to a ripe old age in happiness and comfort.’
Brawl clapped his hands in delight. The others joined in and cheered. Mane bowed in all directions before sitting down again.
‘The Oasis of Wretchedness really does exist. Far to the west from here, in the middle of the Great Desert,’ claimed Belch.
‘What do you mean really exists. Of course, it does! The whole story is true!’ exclaimed Mane.
Belch continued: ‘And the water in that oasis gives you terrible stomach-ache. Twice, I had fierce cramps for days afterwards.’
‘But if you knew that the water was unpalatable, why did you drink it?’ asked Blinn.
‘The Great Desert is hot, dusty and dry. There is no way of traversing it without stopping at the Oasis of Wretchedness – and that’s where you have to refill the waterskins. What they say is: “As long as you can feel the stomach cramps, then you know you haven’t died of thirst”.’
‘Oh right. I get you,’ said Blinn with a nod.
It was late and everyone began to yawn.
It wasn’t long before Karek, too, was overcome by weariness. He snuggled under his blanket near the embers and quickly dropped off to sleep.
winning and losing
Early morning. No sign of the sun yet – only a pale streak of light along the horizon hesitantly suggested that it might make an appearance later. At least such was Karek’s optimistic interpretation as he trudged his way up the high dune. The ascent was proving more difficult than he had anticipated, for with every two steps that he moved upward, he would find himself sinking and sliding back one. Of course, Fata was not suffering the same fate. The Kabo chick hopped along after him like a puppy on a freshly mown meadow.
Hardly has the day broken and I am weary already. And that, even though I’ve never been in such good physical condition.
Finally, he reached the summit, where he sat down with a groan. Fata pecked at his leg and cocked her head.
‘Yes, yes. You are better on foot than me – even though you look just as rotund as I do.’
The bird gave him a wounded look – or maybe Karek was merely imagining it.
He yawned. He had to admit, though, that the two previous days had been relaxing. He and his comrades had lazed around on the sand. Karek had discovered that there was no risk in releasing Fata from her cage. Anyway, Belch had been pestering him the whole time, telling him that no human had the right to lock up a Kabo queen. And indeed, Fata never ran away but always trotted back to him. Even sometimes when he called her. The bird seemed to have enormous fun flitting across the sand like a weasel. Fata always found plenty to eat – the sandworms almost seemed to be fighting to get into her beak. Every day she grew a little, so that now she was the size of a fully-fledged hen. She left her typical bird prints behind her everywhere on the sand – three cute claws to the front and one to the rear.
Now the pair of them were sitting beside each other on the sand and looking at the scene below. To be perfectly accurate, the bird was standing. He would still have to teach her ‘sit’, Karek mused.
The prince opened his belt bag and looked inside. There it was. Wrapped carefully in a cloth. The sand timer! He took it out and held it close to his eyes. He closed one eye and looked through the upper chamber with the other. The world looked peculiarly distorted – it resembled a hemisphere. Like so many things in life, it was all a matter of perspective.
He wrapped up the artefact again and put it back in his bag. He carefully tied the strip of leather.
Nika was standing a good bit away on the beach, her arms akimbo. Karek waved at her. She didn’t react. Which was hardly a surprise. Those who refuse to bend the knee in the throne room of His Majesty are not going to wave back at a prince in the early morning. And certainly not at someone who was going to lose his kingdom in the near future.
Now don’t be unfair to her. Nika would also never wave back at a glorious emperor. Waving? A completely superfluous gesture. Nika hates superfluous gestures.
Still, the crow had been behaving differently recently. Not that he could quite put his finger on anything in particular but there were little moments that irritated him.
He saw the encampment where they had spent the night slowly coming to life. His own comrades, Belch and his men, as well as the crew of the ‘East Wind’ were sitting up on their straw mattresses and stretching.
Dick and Mane were the easiest to recognise from up here. The bony, rickety figure of the former on the one hand, and the impressive plait of Mane’s hair, a good yard long, on the other. He was fond of the two men. They were always friendly and did everything that Belch asked of them. Their loyalty towards their leader honoured not just Belch but also themselves. After all, Belch was technically no longer the senior officer, and they were not under his command. Basically, they were all sitting in the same boat. All of them – except for Child – were on the Soradian wanted list on account of being deserters. They really lived their friendship, they stuck together as a group, and they followed Belch’s every word. Karek recognised several parallels to his own situation.
He watched the to-ing and fro-ing for a long while. The sun had crept its way upwards enough to now prove dazzling. He shaded his eyes with his hand. Loud snatches of conversation caused him look to his left.
Beard was gesticulating wildly and pointing along the beach towards the north. At that, several of the men began to move in that direction. They were carrying all sorts of tools and weapons. Brawl and Impy joined the group.
Although Karek was puzzled by the development, it didn’t bother him unduly. He was more concerned with the immediate future. Belch had explained to him the previous evening that the repairs would be completed today. Then, they could at last sail on the high seas towards his home in Castle Cragwater. Karek was in no doubt that Belch and Beard would manage to either break through or sail around any sea blockades they might encounter. He longed to see his father, Sara, his bed. Even Roban, the stable hand with his bloodthirsty stories. In fact, now Karek would be able to trump the lad’s incredible sagas with ones of his own. That much was certain. But what drew him back most of all was the fact that it was home. And protection. And the memories of a comfortable childhood.
‘Come on, Fata. No more lounging around from you. Let’s go and see what the excitement is all about.’
Fata had, in fact, been running around on her spindly legs all the time, so she gave him a pitiful look – as though she wasn’t that impressed by his foolish human attempt at making fun of her.
Karek slid down the dune. Having arrived at the encampment, he asked his comrades: ‘What’s up, Eduk? Where did Brawl and Impy go with the others?’
‘Beard spotted a stranded whale some distance away. They’ve gone off to replenish our supplies. High time, too – we’re running out of food.’
‘Oh, right.’
Karek wondered – should he hurry after the men to see what was happening? He had a feeling that he wouldn’t like what he saw.
Never mind. Off we go.
Karek ran along the beach. He hadn’t put on his boots when he’d gotten up, so his bare feet splashed along the damp grey sand, which whitened for a moment every time he stepped on it. Fata flitted along beside him, circling him easily from time to time without slowing down.
‘Show off!’ grumbled the prince with a snort.
Rounding a gentle curve on the coast, he saw the whale surrounded by the men who had set off earlier. He drew closer and immediately regretted his decision to come to this place. There was a tideway entering the sea, which was now at low ebb. Karek couldn’t believe his eyes. Red water. The tideway, a watercourse between two sandbanks, and consisting of what remained of the previous high tide, seemed to have nothing in it but blood. The red broth bubbled and streamed past his ankles, so that Karek first felt dizzy, then sick. He suppressed an urge to retch. His horror increased when he spotted Beard standing on top of the whale, insanely hacking enormous chunks of blubber out of the animal’s back with a long-handled axe. Karek gritted his teeth and stepped closer. An animal, well over fifteen yards in length towered above him. A beautiful creature with a white stomach, a pectoral fin five yards long or more and a tailfin that was broader than a castle gate. Rosy wounds the size of shields supplied the watercourse with blood. Brawl was standing at the back of the animal, trying to dismember the animal’s rear with his sword.
Karek closed his eyes. He had to control his emotions and stop himself from roaring out in rage. People ate animals. That was the way it was – and yet – he felt sympathy for the whale. The very first time that he’d experienced such a feeling was when he’d first met Brawl on the way to Fortress Beachperch. Despite his own hunger pangs at the time, he had felt sorry for the wild boar that had been turned on the spit over the fire that evening. He had been haunted since then again and again by the compassion he felt for animals that were being slain – yet until now he had succeeded in keeping his feelings under control.
The massacre unfolding before him presented him with a new challenge.
I should be delighted that we have enough food again to nourish the men over the next few days.
A pair of sailors began to cut into the whale with a two-man saw. Loud smacking sounds as the implement cut through the thick layer of fat, loud crunching sounds as the metal made contact with bone.
Karek stood paralysed beside the animal. Fata was nowhere to be seen. This sight, together with the river of blood, must have driven her away. Karek looked at the humpback’s head. The grooves along her neck, the wrinkled eyelid.
Never again would Karek forget what happened next. The eye opened. The whale looked at him directly. Its pupil expressed unimaginable suffering. Karek felt a terrible stabbing in his head – worse than the ten blows that he had suffered as punishment at the hands of the Fortress Beachperch cane master.
Karek leaped a yard back in horror, his legs gave way and he landed on his knees in the sand. He pressed his hands to his temples. The only thing that he could do in his agony was scream: ‘STOP IT! STOP IT!’
He struggled to his feet, fought against the pain that was trying to force him to his knees again. He screamed: “SHE IS STILL ALIVE! How can you do such a thing? She is alive. And she is pregnant.’ He pointed at the considerable swelling to her white stomach.
Beard, who had still been hacking away at the whale like a miner, stopped his blood-soaked work in surprise. ‘Of course, the whale is still alive. Otherwise, we could forget the meat.’
‘Thanks.’
‘And Dothora advised him: “Let you travel to the Oasis of Wretchedness and let you drink five mouthfuls of its black water at midnight when it is darker than dark. Then ten days will remain for you to find your calling.”
‘Wanda wasted no time. He bade farewell to his wife and travelled through the Great Desert to the Oasis of Wretchedness. His journey was onerous and exhausting. He managed to reach the Oasis of Wretchedness on the day before the new moon. He fell to his knees, parched with thirst and wearier than weary. His strength expended, his waterskin empty, his throat dry, there was nothing that he wanted to do more than throw himself into the cool waters. But he caught sight of a traveller, who was clutching his stomach and groaning in agony. The poor man gasped: “Do not drink the water from this oasis – it is poisonous.”
‘The man vomited and died.
‘Wanda was terrified. Had his journey been an act of futility? But then he decided to keep faith with Lithor and Dothora. Although he was terribly thirsty, he did not touch the water before midnight. No beam of moonlight, no flame of a torch bore witness as the kneeling Wanda lowered his waterskin and filled it from the pool before slaking his thirst with five large mouthfuls of the liquid.
‘Nothing happened. Just when Wanda began to fear that he had done wrong, he felt feathers sprouting out of his arms. He shrunk back in terror. Too late. His head was shrinking, his nose was turning into a hooked beak, his feet were becoming claws. Wanda was transformed into the king of the air – an eagle.’
Brawl whispered into Karek’s ear: ‘Mane is a really terrible liar, isn’t he? I mean – it’s impossible for a human to be turned into an eagle.’
The prince held his hand to Brawl’s ear: ‘It is only a fairy tale, Brawl. In such stories, dreams and reality often get mixed up together. The trick is to listen until the end of the story.’
The men at the campfire were spellbound as they looked at Mane. He had succeeded in bringing the listeners along with Wanda on his travels.
‘Wanda looked at his plumage, spread his mighty wings and thought: “What now? Is this my calling?”
‘After the initial shock, he was overcome by weariness. The onerous journey to the Oasis of Wretchedness was extracting its tribute. Exhausted, he snuggled his head under his wing – as if he had done this a thousand times before – and dropped off to sleep.
‘The following morning, he woke up and began to laugh about his crazy dream, but only a scream, high and piercing, came forth from his beak. He was still an eagle.
‘“What does an eagle do? Fly, first of all!” he thought.
‘Wanda flew up into the air. The Oasis of Wretchedness with its pool and its palm trees became smaller and smaller. Now he could only see a puddle surrounded by yellow sands stretching out in all directions. Wanda soared up and up. Even the desert was now finite beneath him. To the west were the mighty Ore Mountains, to the east, the old graveyard city, surrounded by a seemingly endless wall.
‘He felt the wind and the sun, and he was jubilant. He flew a little, folded his wings and tried to dive, only to spread his wings again and soar upwards. In this way, Wanda flew towards the northwest. He floated over the peaks of the highest mountains and flew above meadows that were greener than any he had seen before.’
‘The Kingdom of Winslorien,’ whispered Karek into Brawl’s ear.
His eyes fell on Impy. The little lad was staring hard at Mane’s lips while he absently chewed on his own.
Blinn was repeatedly tracing the scar on his face with his forefinger.
‘Past the peaks of the Tower Mountains that soared into the clouds. Soon, Wanda landed on one of the massifs. There he met some of his own kind – golden eagles brooding in the heights.
‘“Do you know my calling?” he asked them.
‘But the eagles only shrugged their wings – they could not help him.
‘A few days later, he flew on to the jagged coast, and from there to the north, where the cold forced him to fly at a lower altitude. He allowed the wind to drive him eastward over snow-capped trees. The sight of so much whiteness, its sacredness, the magnificence of the landscape – everything took his breath away.’
‘Alandar in the north,’ whispered the prince.
‘Wanda spent the night in a small cave, which provided refuge from the bitter cold. There he met more of his kind – the snow eagles.
‘“Do you know my calling?”
‘But the eagles only shrugged their wings – they could not help him.
‘Hence, the next day he continued his flight – towards the southeast. There, too, forests and rivers impressed him greatly – the world down there looked so much more peaceful and beautiful than anywhere else.’
‘Toladar,’ whispered Karek with a smile of satisfaction.
‘Wanda reached the sandy coasts and flew east towards the open sea. He saw the high waves and behind it, a mass of peaked mists before he veered west and reached the lighthouse on the south coast. He landed on its spire. A fish eagle landed beside him and peered at him quizzically.
‘Do you know my calling?’
‘But the eagle only shrugged his wings – he could not help him.
‘The last stop-off on his journey by air brought him far into the Southern Sea. Three large mother islands, bright spots with an amazing variety of wildlife on them in the middle of the blue sea and surrounded by speckles – their island sons and daughters – left him with indelible impressions of the world’s natural beauty.
‘On the tenth day of his transformation, he found himself approaching Akkadesh from the sea. From far above, he overlooked his crooked hut not far from the splendid palace of the king with its golden towers and minarets. Yet, he felt no envy, only an unfamiliar happiness at having been privileged to experience such impressions, views and manifestations of beauty. No person before, not even the mightiest of the mightiest – the king himself – had seen what he had seen.
‘He landed directly in front of the entrance to his hut and immediately became the man that he had been before – Wanda the Luckless. His wife threw her arms around him. She had feared for his life. He told her of his experiences. She shook her head. “How wonderful and strange. But how will these adventures put bread on our table?”
‘“Do not worry – I will think of something.”
‘That night he had intercourse with his wife for the first time in a long time.’
Brawl whispered: ‘What’s that? Had intercourse with?’
Karek leaned into him and whispered: ‘They screwed each other.’
Brawl nodded, satisfied. ‘Oh, I see. Good.’
‘The following morning, Wanda said: “Wife – one thing has become clear to me. Neither my friends, nor the eagles, nor even you can help me to find my calling. I must do so myself. All I need is charcoal and papyrus, and then I will draw the world as it has never been drawn before.”
‘In no time at all, Wanda put to paper what his eagle eyes had seen. His talent for sketching the mountains, the lakes and the coasts soon spread far and wide. His maps of all the seas and lands of the world became famous and sold for goodly amounts of gold.
‘It had taken Wanda a long time to find his calling. He became the most important cartographer of the age – indeed, of all ages. His courage and trust in following the commands of the esteemed deities enabled him and his wife to live to a ripe old age in happiness and comfort.’
Brawl clapped his hands in delight. The others joined in and cheered. Mane bowed in all directions before sitting down again.
‘The Oasis of Wretchedness really does exist. Far to the west from here, in the middle of the Great Desert,’ claimed Belch.
‘What do you mean really exists. Of course, it does! The whole story is true!’ exclaimed Mane.
Belch continued: ‘And the water in that oasis gives you terrible stomach-ache. Twice, I had fierce cramps for days afterwards.’
‘But if you knew that the water was unpalatable, why did you drink it?’ asked Blinn.
‘The Great Desert is hot, dusty and dry. There is no way of traversing it without stopping at the Oasis of Wretchedness – and that’s where you have to refill the waterskins. What they say is: “As long as you can feel the stomach cramps, then you know you haven’t died of thirst”.’
‘Oh right. I get you,’ said Blinn with a nod.
It was late and everyone began to yawn.
It wasn’t long before Karek, too, was overcome by weariness. He snuggled under his blanket near the embers and quickly dropped off to sleep.
winning and losing
Early morning. No sign of the sun yet – only a pale streak of light along the horizon hesitantly suggested that it might make an appearance later. At least such was Karek’s optimistic interpretation as he trudged his way up the high dune. The ascent was proving more difficult than he had anticipated, for with every two steps that he moved upward, he would find himself sinking and sliding back one. Of course, Fata was not suffering the same fate. The Kabo chick hopped along after him like a puppy on a freshly mown meadow.
Hardly has the day broken and I am weary already. And that, even though I’ve never been in such good physical condition.
Finally, he reached the summit, where he sat down with a groan. Fata pecked at his leg and cocked her head.
‘Yes, yes. You are better on foot than me – even though you look just as rotund as I do.’
The bird gave him a wounded look – or maybe Karek was merely imagining it.
He yawned. He had to admit, though, that the two previous days had been relaxing. He and his comrades had lazed around on the sand. Karek had discovered that there was no risk in releasing Fata from her cage. Anyway, Belch had been pestering him the whole time, telling him that no human had the right to lock up a Kabo queen. And indeed, Fata never ran away but always trotted back to him. Even sometimes when he called her. The bird seemed to have enormous fun flitting across the sand like a weasel. Fata always found plenty to eat – the sandworms almost seemed to be fighting to get into her beak. Every day she grew a little, so that now she was the size of a fully-fledged hen. She left her typical bird prints behind her everywhere on the sand – three cute claws to the front and one to the rear.
Now the pair of them were sitting beside each other on the sand and looking at the scene below. To be perfectly accurate, the bird was standing. He would still have to teach her ‘sit’, Karek mused.
The prince opened his belt bag and looked inside. There it was. Wrapped carefully in a cloth. The sand timer! He took it out and held it close to his eyes. He closed one eye and looked through the upper chamber with the other. The world looked peculiarly distorted – it resembled a hemisphere. Like so many things in life, it was all a matter of perspective.
He wrapped up the artefact again and put it back in his bag. He carefully tied the strip of leather.
Nika was standing a good bit away on the beach, her arms akimbo. Karek waved at her. She didn’t react. Which was hardly a surprise. Those who refuse to bend the knee in the throne room of His Majesty are not going to wave back at a prince in the early morning. And certainly not at someone who was going to lose his kingdom in the near future.
Now don’t be unfair to her. Nika would also never wave back at a glorious emperor. Waving? A completely superfluous gesture. Nika hates superfluous gestures.
Still, the crow had been behaving differently recently. Not that he could quite put his finger on anything in particular but there were little moments that irritated him.
He saw the encampment where they had spent the night slowly coming to life. His own comrades, Belch and his men, as well as the crew of the ‘East Wind’ were sitting up on their straw mattresses and stretching.
Dick and Mane were the easiest to recognise from up here. The bony, rickety figure of the former on the one hand, and the impressive plait of Mane’s hair, a good yard long, on the other. He was fond of the two men. They were always friendly and did everything that Belch asked of them. Their loyalty towards their leader honoured not just Belch but also themselves. After all, Belch was technically no longer the senior officer, and they were not under his command. Basically, they were all sitting in the same boat. All of them – except for Child – were on the Soradian wanted list on account of being deserters. They really lived their friendship, they stuck together as a group, and they followed Belch’s every word. Karek recognised several parallels to his own situation.
He watched the to-ing and fro-ing for a long while. The sun had crept its way upwards enough to now prove dazzling. He shaded his eyes with his hand. Loud snatches of conversation caused him look to his left.
Beard was gesticulating wildly and pointing along the beach towards the north. At that, several of the men began to move in that direction. They were carrying all sorts of tools and weapons. Brawl and Impy joined the group.
Although Karek was puzzled by the development, it didn’t bother him unduly. He was more concerned with the immediate future. Belch had explained to him the previous evening that the repairs would be completed today. Then, they could at last sail on the high seas towards his home in Castle Cragwater. Karek was in no doubt that Belch and Beard would manage to either break through or sail around any sea blockades they might encounter. He longed to see his father, Sara, his bed. Even Roban, the stable hand with his bloodthirsty stories. In fact, now Karek would be able to trump the lad’s incredible sagas with ones of his own. That much was certain. But what drew him back most of all was the fact that it was home. And protection. And the memories of a comfortable childhood.
‘Come on, Fata. No more lounging around from you. Let’s go and see what the excitement is all about.’
Fata had, in fact, been running around on her spindly legs all the time, so she gave him a pitiful look – as though she wasn’t that impressed by his foolish human attempt at making fun of her.
Karek slid down the dune. Having arrived at the encampment, he asked his comrades: ‘What’s up, Eduk? Where did Brawl and Impy go with the others?’
‘Beard spotted a stranded whale some distance away. They’ve gone off to replenish our supplies. High time, too – we’re running out of food.’
‘Oh, right.’
Karek wondered – should he hurry after the men to see what was happening? He had a feeling that he wouldn’t like what he saw.
Never mind. Off we go.
Karek ran along the beach. He hadn’t put on his boots when he’d gotten up, so his bare feet splashed along the damp grey sand, which whitened for a moment every time he stepped on it. Fata flitted along beside him, circling him easily from time to time without slowing down.
‘Show off!’ grumbled the prince with a snort.
Rounding a gentle curve on the coast, he saw the whale surrounded by the men who had set off earlier. He drew closer and immediately regretted his decision to come to this place. There was a tideway entering the sea, which was now at low ebb. Karek couldn’t believe his eyes. Red water. The tideway, a watercourse between two sandbanks, and consisting of what remained of the previous high tide, seemed to have nothing in it but blood. The red broth bubbled and streamed past his ankles, so that Karek first felt dizzy, then sick. He suppressed an urge to retch. His horror increased when he spotted Beard standing on top of the whale, insanely hacking enormous chunks of blubber out of the animal’s back with a long-handled axe. Karek gritted his teeth and stepped closer. An animal, well over fifteen yards in length towered above him. A beautiful creature with a white stomach, a pectoral fin five yards long or more and a tailfin that was broader than a castle gate. Rosy wounds the size of shields supplied the watercourse with blood. Brawl was standing at the back of the animal, trying to dismember the animal’s rear with his sword.
Karek closed his eyes. He had to control his emotions and stop himself from roaring out in rage. People ate animals. That was the way it was – and yet – he felt sympathy for the whale. The very first time that he’d experienced such a feeling was when he’d first met Brawl on the way to Fortress Beachperch. Despite his own hunger pangs at the time, he had felt sorry for the wild boar that had been turned on the spit over the fire that evening. He had been haunted since then again and again by the compassion he felt for animals that were being slain – yet until now he had succeeded in keeping his feelings under control.
The massacre unfolding before him presented him with a new challenge.
I should be delighted that we have enough food again to nourish the men over the next few days.
A pair of sailors began to cut into the whale with a two-man saw. Loud smacking sounds as the implement cut through the thick layer of fat, loud crunching sounds as the metal made contact with bone.
Karek stood paralysed beside the animal. Fata was nowhere to be seen. This sight, together with the river of blood, must have driven her away. Karek looked at the humpback’s head. The grooves along her neck, the wrinkled eyelid.
Never again would Karek forget what happened next. The eye opened. The whale looked at him directly. Its pupil expressed unimaginable suffering. Karek felt a terrible stabbing in his head – worse than the ten blows that he had suffered as punishment at the hands of the Fortress Beachperch cane master.
Karek leaped a yard back in horror, his legs gave way and he landed on his knees in the sand. He pressed his hands to his temples. The only thing that he could do in his agony was scream: ‘STOP IT! STOP IT!’
He struggled to his feet, fought against the pain that was trying to force him to his knees again. He screamed: “SHE IS STILL ALIVE! How can you do such a thing? She is alive. And she is pregnant.’ He pointed at the considerable swelling to her white stomach.
Beard, who had still been hacking away at the whale like a miner, stopped his blood-soaked work in surprise. ‘Of course, the whale is still alive. Otherwise, we could forget the meat.’
