Previously: Mira and her companions have found an ancient shipwreck in the middle of a forest and are looking for clues about its crew, destination and cargo...
Once again, I stepped into the gloom. This time, my heart buzzed not in fear and fatigue, but in anticipation of untold wonders, a mystery to be unraveled and, I hoped, a pouch full of coins. I was already crafting the history of this vessel in my head, trying to call up images of the bizarre events that brought it to this forsaken place.
Now that we knew it was a ship, it was a wonder that we had mistaken it for anything else. What we had taken for a roof was actually the deck, splintered in places but with a single rectangle near its center. What I had assumed was a hanging piece of broken beam was, in fact, the door. A deepening shadow above it was mostly likely the hold, or perhaps a narrow passageway that led to the crew's quarters.
Merrick had made the same observation and probed the ceiling/deck cautiously with the tip of his sword. I cringed at first, for if the wood was indeed rotten and anything remained in the hold, it would not take much pressure to cause it to come crashing down on us. What a sad, sorry end that would be--to escape a pair of rampaging giants only to fall victim to some lost pirate's effects. But the wood sounded solid and, indeed, it held up.
If that was the deck and hold, it stood to reason that the back wall was not a wall at all, but the exterior of the captain's quarters. There should be some other kind of door, there, and perhaps a short ladder that led to an observation platform that had somehow been jammed so savagely against the earth it must have shattered or split the ground. The wall was buckled and a few quick taps proved that it was hollow. How quickly my assumptions melted away!
Merrick was beside me now, sweat gleaming on his skin and a wild look in his eyes. He ran his hands over the uneven surface, cursing and sucking on a finger when it pulled up a splinter. I pushed against the wood and although it was bent and buckled it was solid enough. There was no opening large enough to squeeze through and only a few cracks to press an eye to. It was too dark to see anything inside, so I guess that chamber had not been exposed to sunlight in the long years since it was tossed to this final resting place.
"Move aside." Seymuhr's rough voice was in my ear, his rank breath in my nostrils. I waved both away.
"Mind your manners, you smelly brute," I snapped.
He ignored me. Seymurh wiggled his fingers into one of the crevices, then squeezed in his other hand so that one was on top of the other in that narrow opening. He lowered himself slightly, set his knees and pulled with a single grunt. The wood snapped and came free, revealing a whole the size of a large melon. He put a hand on either side and broke more wood off, as easily as if he were stripping dry bark from a dead tree, got a shoulder through and then pushed his way into the darkness.
"Like a battering ram," Merrick said, an admiring smile on his face.
"But not as smart," I added, then called: "Be careful, you oaf! We don't know how stable that is."
We waited, but heard no alarming sound of rending wood or straining beam. The ship, smashed as it was, seemed stable enough. I looked at Merrick and he at me. We nodded simultaneously and, one after the other, stepped inside the chamber.
NEXT: The last port of Harfigore the Merciless
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