VIII

The ruckus of the storm did Spitzel the navigator no good. Over the last few days, one would have never guessed that this man was only in his thirties. His pallor grew to the proportion of a ghost. His eyes were darkened and sunken as one long dead. He staggered on the deck like a zombie risen from the grave. Brownfield had insisted upon helping the young man, but the patient would have nothing to do with the leeches. The mixture given him seemed to do little good but make him sleep. Still, the rest seemed to keep him going long enough to do his duty.

Unfortunately, the physical damage was not the only thing to affect the ship. They were a bit off course to start with to avoid the main blow of the storm, and the high winds and violence of the waves drove them further off. Spitzel, having been on a good many voyages, knew this would be the result. Being duty bound, despite his failing health, he forced himself on deck. The man looked up and around himself with red rimmed eyes. He sighed and shook his head. He disappeared back into the deep recesses of his cabin for a good two hours.

Pure misery was written on his fevered face as he picked up his instruments in clumsy hands. He fumbled around with the maps. He smirked as he wiped the perspiration from his face. As much as he complained about the Kobold’s presence and shooed him away out of business, he sorely missed his company and his usefulness. Although he had not participated in holding down the ship and weathering the storm, he knew it had been fierce. He wondered if the pesky cabin boy had survived. He could not dwell much upon the welfare of others. He had to use all his energy to get the ship back on course.

With an effort, the navigator made his way back to the helmsman. Taking a final judgement with the position of the stars, he pointed out the direction to Smith. The man at the wheel raised his eyebrows at the suggestion, but he set the course all the same and gave the orders to set the sails for this course as well. He sighed and shook his head. At least, they were no longer sitting still. Spitzel, having done his duty, made his way back to his cabin. Without removing his coat or boots, he collapsed into his bed.

Alteng, having protested his confinement, returned to his duties that evening in his usual cheerful manner and maybe more so than normal. The cook petted him on the head and slipped him an extra piece of meat in his meal. The Kobold thanked him graciously and made his rounds. Spitzel was the last stop on his route as usual. He had intended to share his meal with the man. It was nothing for the Kobold to have to wake the man. He put his load on the table and went to wake the man.

The Kobold felt a lump form in his throat and fell to the pit of his stomach. The creeping ache ran up his back, and he knew something was not right. He knew before he touched the man’s face that it would be cold, and there would be no reaction. Although it was too late to do anything, Alteng rushed to get the doctor. He should have done this long ago, but the man argued so much about it. He had to admit he was not particularly fond of the idea of leeches sucking out his blood. He’d keep his blood to himself, both the good and the bad.

Although still busy with cleaning up after the storm, Brownfield dropped his chores and rushed off with the Kobold. The doctor knew it was too late as soon as he walked into the room and the unnatural way the man lay in bed. He only shook his head. This did not bade well for the end of the journey. Ignoring the spirit’s protests, he rushed off to tell the captain the bad news.

Throughout his short life, Alteng had known death in many forms. Although hardened to some extent, it still pained him to lose a friend. He collapsed at the side of the bed in a flood of tears. Ryley found him like this. Frowning with his own concerns, he rubbed the little one’s back.

The feelings about the navigator were mixed. He had kept mostly to himself and did not associate with the others. He was a hard man to talk to because of his spiteful nature. The Kobold seemed to be the only one who could tolerate him and his sharp tongue. Spitzel felt likewise despite his harsh words to him. Magic begot magic was whispered among the men. Alteng paid them no heed. They did not understand that the man was well learned and deserved a measure of respect. He loved the written word and the arts, but the others could not understand that this all had nothing to do with magic, but the Kobold loved him all the same and felt something of a kinship for at least the written word part of things. More whispers were said about Alteng’s feelings. The Faerie Folk were noted for strange behaviors as if funerals were foreign to them. The little spirit openly cried at the funeral and the burial at sea, and he was somber for the rest of the day.

With sadness and worry in his voice, the captain ordered the men back to work. He was unsure of what they would do since none of them knew anything about navigation. The best they could do was follow the last course that Spitzel had set for them. He figured that he and Smith would do what they could to make sense of the deceased man’s notes later.

The next night when Alteng went to deliver the captain’s meal, he found him and the helmsman in the navigator’s room. They were pouring over the paper work and maps there. In a way, the small being felt that his friend was being violated, but he knew they had to do this. He tugged on the captain’s coat, but the man shooed him away. Standing his ground, the Kobold was insistent they pay attention to him.

“Sir,” Alteng spoke up. “I know some of the navigational skills. I think I may be able to get us to land.”

The captain narrowed his steely blue eyes at the little one before him. The Kobold was unmoved. “What would you know of such things?”

A smile widened across the fae’s face. “I’m a Kobold. I was born in the mines of Schönberg. I have a decent sense of direction because of that. Besides,” he added with a shrug, “I had been spending most of my free time with Spitzel. He was showing me things of his trade. I was interested in how all the instruments worked and how they differed from those of other navigators I have known. And, well, you know, I’m good with numbers. His maths were a bit different, but they made a numerical sense.”

The captain continued to look at the vagabond in disbelief. Smith snorted in the background. Ryley waved him to hush. Given the lack of success they had had in figuring out the numbers and symbols, the man nodded his acceptance to the spirit. The helmsman’s eyes opened in disbelief. He prepared to speak out against this, but the captain hushed him. Ryley already felt his stomach tie in knots over this decision, and he hoped it would not be a fatal mistake. He shook his head to chase away the frightful misgivings. He knew from first hand experience that the Kobold had been interested in numbers in the book work. He also would happily give suggestions that had an uncanny accuracy for one of such a simple background. The spirit was more than pleased to explain how he came to his numbers as well. None of his explanations made any sense. Yet, once he cross referenced with his own calculations, he found the same sum.

Alteng made his new home in the navigator’s cabin. This came as somewhat a relief to Ryley, since the nightmare incident not so long ago still taunted the man. The little creature could have his violent nightmares to his heart’s content here and not cause any harm. Alteng moved around the room and smiled to himself. He laid a hand upon the man’s work and closed his eye.

“Please, my friend. Give me guidance to lead your friends back home and finish out your work.”

He then set to work at deciphering the notes like the deceased man had taught him. Ryley excused him from all other duties. The Kobold protested quite verbally about the arrangement. It was in the spirit’s nature to clean up the place. The captain explained that his new job would keep him busy enough, and he did find it so. He did not know if he would have enough time to do his old job and this new one as well, and this one was far more important on the crew’s list.

Smith made no effort to hide his skepticism of this new navigator. He often questioned the direction this childlike creature gave, but not only did the direction make sense, Smith was not a man to mutiny against his captain even if he thought him a fool sometimes. He sighed. He did truly trust Ryley and his judgement. He had been right more than once on some crazy gamble.

Alteng found some of the calculations that his predecessor had left a bit off. By his figuring, they were farther south than he had first thought. Fortunately, Ryley kept him at his evening hours, since the navigator had to know the position of the stars as well as the sun. Alteng took his job, like any other, quite seriously despite appearances. He worked tirelessly at trying to plot a course to get them back where they should be, but he was sorely aware of their need to get to land and repair the damage to the ship. He was so tied up in his work that he forgot to eat or sleep. The captain found him more than once sound asleep on the table with all the maps and instruments. Little did the man know that the Kobold felt funny about sleeping in the dead man’s bed. Of course, Alteng’s trepidation didn’t stop the cat. Ryley also found several plates of untouched food and shook his head and scolded the Kobold for his neglect.

Yet, despite all odds, within two weeks time signs of land became apparent. Sea gulls flew overhead and dolphins swam in the waters. The hearts of the men lifted and cheers were raised for the lucky stowaway. Alteng blushed deeply and receded back to the navigator’s cabin. They were still off course and were likely in the hostile territories of the southern hemisphere. He had let the captain know his fears of where they were, but the cry of land was enough to raise the hopes higher and drown out any fears. Once the repairs were done, they would set course for the north along the coasts. They would make port with their goods in a reasonable time.

On a more selfish note, Alteng knew he would be leaving the ship and crew. It was the end of the deal. He sadly smiled to himself. At least, he had earned the right to keep his life and there was no longer an ocean between him and home.