Sparrow on a Plank Chapter 12: Finding Heaven Before Going to Hades

Hajime was smiling. He had just eaten a great meal and had been gifted the leftovers as well as a bag of takoyaki. The sun was in the sky with nary a cloud and he had a great job that involved a lot of travel. Better yet, his fortune cookie had said that his life was looking up.

Sal's fortune cookie was of the “You are about to embark on a perilous yet profitable journey” type. She hated irony. “Bubastos? BUBASTOS? All the way to the armpit of the known world for a book is a bit much. This is becoming the worst year ever.”

“Isn't it weird that no place is ever described as the 'genitalia of the world'? I wonder if that's because no one is sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.”

Sal stopped for a moment, debating if his statement really deserved a response or not. She shook her head and continued walking briskly. “Haj, we're about to undertake a voyage to one of the worst places on the planet. There's only a couple of places that are worse, and those places at least have interesting tourist attractions.”

Hajime stopped to get his bags under better control. “Good point. Bubastos does have few good points outside of its manufacturing, but that's no reason to be unhappy about going there. The best thing about the next mission is that it's short. I hope.”

“At least I hope so.” Sal looked to the sky, hoping that some deity would hear her prayer. “If there's a fiasco like the last time, I'm so going to look into another line of work.”

“I'm sort of hoping that there's no fiasco at all.” Hajime tied the smallest of the bags to his belt. “A different fiasco could be worse, you know.”

She cocked her head. “Yeah, you're right.” She straightened her head. “Then let's hope for no fiascoes, then.” She brightened. “At least the crew is familiar.”

“Yeah. It'll be nice to deal with the same crowd again.” He grinned at her. “Just remember to come up for air every so often; you're one of the few people to get paler after a two-week voyage at sea.”

Hajime smiled as he docked her blow, and ran off with his treasures before she could actually hit him. She smiled; he was right. And she had no problem with that.

* * * * *

They spent the rest of the afternoon on errands. Well, at least Sal did. Her first stop was at the armorer's; she dropped off her daggers for sharpening. When she came back later for them, she would probably pick up some more. She also hurried off to the herbalist shop for some sea-sickness medicine. She stopped off at the marketplace to grab some nuts and fruits; she wasn't going to survive another voyage on the limited fare available on the ship and wanted a few extra options. She also figured that they would probably be running when they left Bubastos, so some added food wouldn't be a bad idea. She also grabbed a few books; she may never get around to them, but at least that would mean possible distractions were on hand.

She wanted to make sure that she had an extra suit of clothes or two; it would be worth the extra expense to not be limited to just one change of clothes, and not just for purely practical reasons. She stopped by a store known for less traditional adventuring gear; she wanted to do something interesting for Rick when she saw him next. By the time that the evening meal came around, she was ready for the next few weeks, and would definitely not be bored. She spent a few hours in the bath in preparation for the next few weeks, dreaming of what she was going to do with Rick over the same duration. Okay, maybe she wasn't going to spend all of the next few weeks fully clothed.

* * * * *

Hajime, on the other hand, only needed two stops after dropping his leftovers in his room. After an interesting conversation with the weaponsmith, he decided on a simple ranged peasant's weapon: A repeating crossbow. A gravity-fed groove with a string set-up that would set itself after each shot with a ten-quarrel magazine, it was simple enough to shoot, although the aim was horrible and the range short. Still, it appealed to his love of machines, and he ended up buying several replacement clips.

He dropped it off (along with his food) and grabbed a handcloth and towel. He spent the rest of the afternoon soaking in a communal bath talking philosophy while drinking cheap sake. Some of the old men really got behind their opinions, and since in the baths all pretenses were dropped the arguments could get as heated as the water. It seems that stripping off one's clothes reminded everyone that they were the same under their clothes.

After a few hours of soaking in the piping hot water arguing the intricacies of Buddhist philosophy and how karma applied to the beneficial use of magic, he would return to his room refreshed.

* * * * *

Mysteriously, the Hell's Wrath had been hired for a run to Bubastos involving a rather large amount of cargo. Within a few hours, he was turning away offers, even allowing for the extra charges necessitated for that island's specialized legal economy (that is, bribes for the appropriate officials, and even a few of the inappropriate ones). Captain Taylor liked the large cargo; it was almost enough to make him ignore his misgivings. Nothing good came of going to that bastard island, and every captain worth his salt knew it.

The reason was pretty simple: The law there was draconian, and not in the usual cheerful way. The state laws were already pretty stringent, but local leadership had no problem adding extra rules; the only practical difference between the two was to whom the bribes were paid. Personal grudges were a currency as valid as gold, but you needed a careful hand or you could lose everything. The local guard was more than willing to help with enforcement, which usually involved bone-breaking and lots of hard labor. Sure, the bones may be healed without scars thanks to magic, but even the best healing magic usually doesn't let the victim forget the pain of the original break.

Captain Taylor had been assured that all bribes had been paid; if he hadn't had those assurances he wouldn't have gone.

Seeing his two favorite passengers walking up the gangplank had made him feel better about the whole mess, especially when they had done what few passengers had done before them: Show up on time. He smiled as he saw Sal; he knew of at least one member of his crew who would be happy to see her. He personally was happy to see the kid; he was good for crew morale. The next two weeks may be filled with some serious apprehension for the future landfall, but at least it would be a fun two weeks. Besides, his crew had faced worse odds.

In the meantime, he had a boat to run. Most of the work had been done, and the cargo had been loaded. but there were the details that his first mate would be unable to deal with once Sal had come aboard. He prepared to start going down the checklist when his first mate exited his stateroom. Captain Taylor was bemusedly surprised; Richard usually celebrated landfall with two large bottles of the local drink. Yet here he was giving orders as he had always gotten the ship underway.

Captain Taylor was really beginning to like Sal. He was smiling as he went to discuss their course with the navigator.

[The last chapter can be found here.]