Limitless Seas, Chapter 3.

  Just a reminder that these are rough drafts of the book, much can, and likely will change before final publication. Let me know if you're enjoying the story so far. 

Chapter 3. 

The days were monotonous as the pirate vessel patrolled this area of the sea. Whispered conversations among the prisoners rumored they were at the fringe of a little used trade lane. Captain Ikar’re had to have known he was at the helm of a miserable vessel and was looking to catch some of the smaller trade ships that would be easy prey for even the Gull Dropping to take. Maggot had quieted down and acted contrite after missing a few meals, but Larson kept the pressure on, just as Maggot would have done to him. 

“You don’t want to let him die, at least not yet,” the orc behind him warned. 

“Why not? He would have used this food to torment and control me, I’m just giving him what he intended to give me,” Larson replied. 

“I would like nothing better than to squeeze the life from Maggot myself, but if he expires, you will face Karth’s wrath. We’ve got no replacement rowers, so if you intend to kill him, wait until we take another prize. The excitement of new victims will blind Karth to any deaths among the weaker rowers,” the orc advised. It was good advice. 

“Thank you for the warning, what is your name?” Larson asked again. 

“There are no names in this hold, on the day we breath the air of freedom I’ll tell you, but not before,” the orc said. 

“Very well, I’m not sure why you keep your name so guarded, but I’ll respect your wishes and not ask you again until I am in control of the vessel,” Larson replied. He was resolved, he would take this ship and exact payment from those that imprisoned him. When the dinner chow came by, Larson allowed Maggot his portion. By this time, Maggot looked like he was on his last legs and was no longer able to do anything other than place his hands on the oar. With some food in his belly, Maggot slumped over into a deep sleep. Larson waited for the rest of the rowers to get deep into their dreams when he renewed his efforts on the stubborn bolt holding his tail down. Each night it had loosed a tiny bit more, the gains were so small that he wondered if he was making any real progress. 

“Time to wake up my lovelies, chow and entertainment for you today!” Karth bellowed as he stomped down the steps in the morning. Larson halted his efforts on his bonds and sat up tall to see what the orc was talking about. 

“The naga here,” Karth started, pointing toward Larson, “thought I had forgotten about him and his tough scales, but old Karth never forgets. Today as you dine, you’ll get a rare treat as I show off my old flenser. She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Karth asked, holding up the shorter whip he had brought today. Along the last foot of the whip, it looked like Karth had imbedded several fishhooks through the tough leather of the whip. The hooks were of varying sizes, but all were crusted in rust and other things that he didn’t want to think about. Why was this idiot singling him out for punishment?

“I figures he’s due a solid dozen lashes from me old flenser, don’t you?” The rowers remained silent, wisely realizing that the orc wanted an audience for his cruelty but require any verbal support. “While I have a strong arm and, and I must admit, a quick temper, old Karth is a fair man, that he is. I think some of my blows broke skin on his pasty upper body, and only half of my lashes were blocked by his scales. So, being the benevolent soul that I am, I’ll only give the naga here six tastes of the flenser,” Karth said as he slowly stalked the aisle toward Larson. When he reached Larson’s aisle, the orc took a couple of practice swings, the whip named flenser didn’t quite have the same snap as the other whip, but it was much more terrifying to Larson. 

The first blow landed on his body, three of the crusty hooks penetrated his scales and as the orc pulled back, small bits of flesh were ripped from Larson. Despite not wanting to give the orc any satisfaction, he couldn’t help but gasp out loud from the pain. When the second blow hit, Larson felt pain not only in his tail, but also inside his mouth. Something had poked his tongue as he shouted in pain. The lashes landed one after another, and by the time the orc had finished, his lower body was covered in small holes that were rapidly leaking blood onto the deck. 

“All right, the show’s over and I think our little snake has learned his lesson. Eat up, we’ll have some action soon and if you can’t keep the pace I call when we spot a target, I’ll introduce the lot of you to the flenser,” Karth growled as he paced the aisle. The pain distracted Larson, and there was no way that he could have beat Maggot today if the little man tried to take all the food. It turned out it didn’t matter as when the sailors reached his row, they were directed by Karth to hand him his bowl directly. In addition, he was given a third cup of water. Larson knew he was the best rower in the hold, and if he realized that, Karth had to as well. The food and water wasn’t some moment of weakness for Karth, it was insurance he would be up to his normal strength for any coming fight. Once everyone had their breakfast, the orc sounded out the count and the rowers began their day’s labor. 

The pain in his mouth felt different from the pain inflicted by his tormentor. Moving his tongue around the roof of his mouth, Larson could feel a pair of sharp protrusions. With some effort, he felt he could move them, after a bit of practice, and a few more scratches on his tongue, Larson was starting to get the hang of things. It appeared that he had fangs, just like a venomous snake might have. The strange system that guided this world responded with another notice, this time explaining his new discovery. 

Racial trait discovered, Venomous Bite. Like all the variants of the naga race, the water naga posses a set of fangs that can deliver venom to their prey. You have been granted the subtype Venom Spit. You can accurately spit venom up to ten feet. Once you have used this ability, it will take your body up to seven days to replenish your venom reserves. Your specific venom subtype is a powerful cytotoxin that creates a rapid necrosis of any living tissue or organic material it touches. When underwater this ability creates a small cloud of venom that will remain in place for up to one minute, damaging any who enter it. As you gain higher level, this power will improve. 

This was an unexpected benefit for Larson, one he could think of several uses for. The urge to try out Venom Spit on Karth the next time he saw him was almost too much to resist. Patience won out and while the ability might grant him a small modicum of vengeance on the orc, saving it for when they made their escape was perhaps a wiser choice. 

Despite Karth’s words earlier, there wasn’t any call to action that morning. The winds changed as the day wore on and eventually became perfect for the sail, allowing the rowers to relax a bit as they plied the seemingly endless waters of the trade route, looking for a target. Larson’s wounds healed more slowly than they had before, the nasty things coating Karth’s flenser causing the wounds to fester. His powerful body fought back against the infections and by the time dinner was served and the sun faded over the horizon, he was nearly healed. 

Once again, as the crew slept, Larson pulled on his bonds. His muscles of his lower body stretched and strained against his chains, the links digging painfully into him. Then it happed, with the sharp crack of wood splintering, the bolt holding him to the deck popped out. Ever so slowly, Larson slithered his way out of the chains. His wrists were still held fast, but with his body free, he had a chance. Larson wrapped his tail around the chains bolting his wrists to the deck and pulled. It didn’t take long before that smaller bolt popped free. Using his tail, he pulled the chain from his manacles, freeing up his hands. Looking around, Larson was surprised the noise hadn’t woken up the rest of the sleeping prisoners. The only motion was from Maggot at his side, looking up at him pitifully and holding up his bonds. 

“You want me to free you? Why should I?” Larson asked. 

“Free me and I can help you free the others. All I need is a splinter of wood to pop these cheap locks. I can free five men before you managed to muscle your way into freeing one,” Maggot offered. Getting the others who wished to join them out quickly was going to be key to their survival. He’d have to keep a close eye on Maggot, but Larson realized he needed the help. It didn’t take too long to snap the chains on the little man, they had been rusting away on him for some time and the bolt securing them wasn’t driven as deeply into the deck. Maggot wasted no time in locating some of the larger wood splinters that were strewn about when the bolts had been pulled from the floor. 

“These should do, I’ll start at the bow and work my way back. You start back here, and we’ll meet in the middle,” Maggot said. Larson nodded his agreement and nudged the orc behind him awake as Maggot made his way forward. 

“What’s happening?” The orc said pulling up his chained hands in an effort to defend himself. 

“No, I’m not going to hurt you, I’m going to free you,” Larson said. The orc looked at him in shock, before nudging his rowing partner awake. 

“Pull you chains taunt, and I’ll pop them from the floor. We can worry about getting the manacles off our wrists later after we’ve taken the ship,” Larson told the orc. “Maggot’s working on the men at the bow and we’ll start freeing people back here,” Larson added as he tried to get a good grip on the orc’s chains. 

“No! Maggot will betray us like he did before, stop him,” the orc hissed. Larson was confused and looked toward the bow where Maggot was supposedly freeing the others. Instead, he had passed by the first rows of prisoners and was climbing the steps to the top deck. The hatch was locked from the outside, and when the little man saw Larson and the orc looking at him, he rushed to the top and began pounding on the hatch. 

“Help, the snake man prisoner has escaped. Help!” Maggot shouted while banging on the hatch. Larson let go of the orc’s chains and slithered down the passage, his motion a bit wobbly and slower than he had hoped. He didn’t know if it was due to still learning his new body or it was a result of being chained up in a cramped position for too long. Shouts on the other side of hatch, told him the plan had failed. He and the others had been betrayed and with only himself free, there was no way he could fight off the entire crew, and no time to free the others. 

The knowledge he had failed didn’t stop Larson, he moved faster with each passing second as he learned to control his new body and the numbness from his imprisonment abated. The hatch was undogged and began to open as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Following his instinct, Larson stopped and lashed out with his tail, the blow knocking Maggot over and causing the little main to tumble down the stairs in a series of painful thumps. Karth started down the stairs right behind the tumbling human, backed up by a slew of armed crewmen. Larson wrapped his tail around the neck of Maggot, dragging him back down the passage as Larson retreated. 

“What have we here, a snake man and a Maggot, ready to cause me trouble,” Karth hissed out. His trademark whip was in one hand and a shortsword in the other. The men behind him checked on the other prisoners as they passed each row, making sure they were still secured while following the slowly retreating Larson. He knew this looked bad and had to come up with a story that would keep him from being hung off the yardarm. 

“Wasn’t trying to escape boss, I just spotted this little turd making a run for it and broke free to catch him, Larson said as he passed the last row of prisoners. 

“Ah, doing me a favor were you? I doubt that, we have a way for dealing with mutineers, we do. I’ll tie you to the mast and let the crew have a go at you with the flenser until you’re nothing but a pile of scales and gore,” Karth threatened. Larson could tell he wasn’t buying the story, he had to make it look at least plausible. Maggot tried to talk; it came out as a gurgle as Larson tightened his grip on the man’s neck. The little man started jabbing his wooden slivers ineffectively into his scales, giving Larson an idea. With a quick flick, his tail jerked upwards and a meaty crack was heard from Maggot’s neck. Larson dropped the lifeless body of Maggot on the floor and backed all the way to the stairs leading into the cargo hold. 

“Look at his hands, he used those slivers to dig out the bolts holding him down. He said he was going to get me killed and that you would believe whatever he told you because he was smarter than anyone on the ship. If I had wanted a mutiny, wouldn’t I have freed the others instead of going after Maggot? No, I just wanted revenge on him for all the torment he’s given me since I’ve been here,” Larson offered, he knew it was a weak argument, but had to hope that they would still need him to row. 

“Not buying it snake man, haul him topside and let me get my flenser,” Karth growled, pushing forward a pair of sailors who gave Larson fearful looks. He was unarmed and outnumbered, but Larson knew he must have looked intimidating after snapping Maggot’s neck with little effort.  

“Stay your hand my good Karth, is there perhaps a note of truth in what the naga is claiming? I would hate to have to dispose of a second prisoner tonight,” A melodious voice called out from behind the pack of crew clogging the passage. The crew parted as a thin man walked to the side of Karth. The pointed ears and strange mannerism told Larson this wasn’t a man and was, in fact, an elf. The fine cut of his clothes pegged him as the captain, or at least a senior crew member if Larson was any judge of such things. 

“Aye Captain Ikar’re, let me take a look. Karth said. He made a show of finding the wooden slivers in Maggot’s hands and looking at the chains. 

“Could be as he said, more likely he busted out and was about to free the rest of this mutinous lot,” Karth said.  

“Hmm, he is a strong one, perhaps we give him a second chance. At least until we find a replacement,” the captain suggested. 

“Aye sir, I’ll see he’s trussed up good and tight this time, he’ll cause no more shenanigans for you,” Karth replied. 

“Good, see to it, I’m back to bed,” the captain said with a dismissive wave. Larson submitted to Karth and the others manhandling him back to his bench and beginning the process of securing him once more. 

“Oh, my good Karth, one more thing,” the captain said. 

“Aye sir?” 

“As soon as we have a suitable replacement, see that this naga is ‘retired’ from his duties,” the captain ordered. 

“Aye, sir, I’ll see to it personally, I will,” Karth replied. The crooked smile on his face told Larson he could expect a most unpleasant end should they ever find a new batch of prisoners.