The Mariner

But from the sounds beyond the boat still ringing in his ears, the Mariner’s demons remained. So he dug the knife deeper.

35. THE BEST FISH AND CHIPS (GUARANTEED!)

CLIFFS SO DARK THEY WERE almost obsidian stretched across the horizon, the tops bathed in a deep mist. The mass of land was eerily wide, dominating the ocean as if in mockery of its former majesty. The Mariner had never seen such a vast island, and the rest of the crew were given a bitter reminder of how the world used to be long ago, before the Shattering.

It had been less than a week since passing the waterfall. Fortunately the crew had obeyed the Mariner’s commands and not ventured above until he’d given the all-clear, and he hadn’t dared look himself for two days, finally peeking his head out like a scared rat. He wouldn’t have risen at all had it not been for the devils and their ever present hunger. After a prolonged period of claws scratching on wood he’d finally opened the door to a dozen unimpressed furry faces, each unconcerned with the inner turmoil plaguing their servant; why should they care for a monkey when there were bellies to fill?

Returning to sunlight presented a cold grey ocean. Bitter, joyless, even hopeless in its stubborn blank uniformity, but the waters were free from eels. Safely assured, he allowed the others to ascend. No-one mentioned the fresh blood stains upon his shirt, they were used to the mysterious red blots, and knew not to ask.

And now they’d finally arrived, though faced with an impenetrable circle of stone.

“Are these the moors?” McConnell asked, staring at the landscape as if it were a world-wonder.

“I would guess so,” the Mariner said, wondering just how they would get up on top of them. The sheer scale of land made him dizzy, how could something defy the sea so brazenly?

Heidi didn’t seem fazed. “We keep sailing around until we find a place to land. If the Pope gets visitors, then there must be a dock. Perseverance will give him to us.”

The Mariner agreed, and the Neptune began to circle the landmass, following it east, though after two days the cliffs did not abate, and the land showed little sign of ending.

“Incredible,” Harris said at dawn on the following day. “Perhaps we should be settling here? Huge expanse of land and easy to defend. If there’s fresh water up there, think of the possibilities!”

“And be only a couple of days from that waterfall?” McConnell shuddered. “I don’t think so. I want to be as far from that thing as possible.”

The cliff-face never relented, but later that day a groove appeared, running steeply down from the top into a small alcove, and to their surprise in this break in the rocks nestled a small collection of buildings, each tall and imposing, squashed into their small patch of land, yet tall like flowers straining for the sun.

“A village!” Harris laughed. “Well I’ll be damned! How perfect!”

The village was built in an upside down ‘v’ shape, the point running some-way up the slope towards the summit, whilst the widest end straddled a small dock crammed with dainty fishing vessels. Despite the daylight, the town was mostly in shadow, and street-lamps were lit, giving the crevices between homes an inviting glow. After being entombed within the Neptune, the idea of stepping foot on dry land tempted each and every one aboard, even the Mariner who grew evermore restless.

As the ship closed in on the port several figures could be seen unloading fish from a trawler into a cart. Harris pointed them out. “Populated. Perhaps we can trade for some food?”

The Mariner shrugged, never one for trading. “With what?”

“We have plenty of weapons. People always need bullets.”

“I’m not sure I want anyone here to have bullets.”

Harris shook his head in disbelief. “Everyone’s armed, Arthur. This way we might get a proper bed for the night. No offence, but the Neptune isn’t exactly comfortable.”

Harris held the majority opinion, and just beyond the dock where the water was still deep enough, the Neptune halted and they lowered anchor, preparing to disembark. As if in support of their decision, a biting wind began to whip at their backs, urging them on the swifter.

“Shouldn’t we leave someone behind to guard the ship?” Heidi asked as they began boarding the small row-boats to take them to shore. “What about pirates?”

The Mariner chuckled. “The devils will be protection enough, believe me; I think they’d welcome the entertainment.”

The short journey to the dock was choppy, and it took several trips to bring the whole crew to shore, with each person dashing down the promenade into the shelter of the tall buildings as soon as they hit land, some pulling coats up to shield their faces from the hail that peppered the bluster.

“I think that must be an inn!” Harris shouted above the whistling wind and pointed down a dark street towards a large building with an ornate wooden fish hung outside it. A sign proudly displayed ‘The Drinking Carp’, written in large curly letters.