While he waited he studied the Bo'sun trying to get a feel for what type of man he would be dealing with. Where the Captain was tall, the Bo'sun was short, maybe a good six or seven inches shorter than Dent himself. But even as short as he was the Bo'sun probably outweighed him by a good twenty, maybe thirty pounds, very little of it fat. Round and solid, he seemed as much a part of the ship as the rail he leaned against. Looking around and seeing Dent the pilot waved him over to join them. Walking slowly toward them he stopped a pace or two away and bowed as subordinate to senior.
"Bo'sun Meltath, I am Warrior Dent. Captain Vel ordered me to report to you for billeting and instruction. I am at your command."
"Yeah I see ye. Now what am I to do with ye the question is," the Bo'sun grunted. "I won't be lying to ye: I can't say as I'm happy ye're with us. I knew every man that died in this boarding and counted some of them as friend. I'd just a soon run you through and heave ye over the side. But then I'm not the Captain and if he signed ye up then we'll see what good use ye can be made of. What ye know of sailing, youngster?"
"I am sorry to admit, very little," Dent replied. "I was trained to fight on land and only know what I have seen over the past few weeks. As for what I can do, the Captain mentioned instruction, which I can do. Weapons maintenance and repair, and of course I can fight. Additionally I have a strong back and learn fairly quickly. Whatever you assign me, I shall endeavor to learn as best I can."
"Well Seth, he do talk pretty as ye say." Meltath studied the young man in front of him seeming to come to a conclusion.
"Very well, youngster. We'll see if ye can teach the men how to fight a wee bit better. I hear ya kilt seven by yerself and if ye can do that, maybe ye know something we be needing. But now I be thinking I need to get ye a berth. I understand ya be carrying some baggage with ye."
"I have some small amount of personal items and two slaves. I also have two trunks and heavy armor in the hold."
"What's in the prize's hold ye get when we hit port. As for your slaves, well crew don't usually keep personnel slaves on board, but they can either bunk with the rest of the slaves in their quarters or squeeze in yer bunk with ye. Yer decision; just don't bother me or anyone else." Turning slightly, still keeping his eyes on Dent, he bellowed in a voice surprisingly loud and clear, "Festou! Festou! Where are ye, ye worthless lump? Get yer ass up here. I have a task for ye!"
As if a wizard waved his hand creating it out of thin air a head popped up over the edge of the deck at the steps followed by the body of a young boy. Red hair bouncing in an unruly mop, the boy reminded Dent more of a monkey he had once seen in a carnival sideshow than a human being. He couldn't have been more than eight or nine seasons old. Moving quickly with the boundless energy of extreme youth, the boy bounced -- it was the only way to describe his movement -- over to the Bo'sun rendering a fingertip touch of his brow in mock salute.
"'ere Bo'sun sir!" Even at rest the boy seemed to vibrate, giving the impression he was going to shoot off in a random direction at any moment.
"Festou, where have ye been hiding? Well never ye mind, I want ya to take this young warrior here -- never did catch yer name -- up to forward crew quarters and get h'm settled in. Then show h'm the galley, head and a short tour of the ship. The Captain will be calling for h'm after evening meal so until then we won't know his station."
"Dent, honorable sir; my name is Dent," he said when the Bo'sun turned back towards him.
"I ain't no honorable sir, I be this ships Bo'sun, ye remember that. Aye, well Warrior Dent, this here is Festou, ship's boy. He be taking ye to yer quarters and show ye around a bit. His worthless hide is yers for awhile, until ya get used to us here. One word of warning, warrior." His eyes suddenly became very cold and hard. "I don't allow no trouble in the crew. This be a good tight ship and I aim to keep it that way, ye understand?"
"Perfectly hor... Bo'sun sir," remembering to change his honorific just in time. "I am under contract now and shall respond to my comrades in arms as required under the Code." Pausing just a second he continued, "The fact is, Bo'sun, I've had enough trouble today as it is and have no desire for more."
"Aye, that I believe. Very well. Festou, be off with ye now. Dismissed." Bowing first to the Bo'sun and then to the pilot Dent turned and followed the bouncing ball of energy down the stairs to the main deck and over to the waiting women.
They were sitting on the deck where he had left them but were not alone. Standing around them were five sailors leering and making obscene solicitations. "Hey, sweet thing, how about ye and yer sister come by me rack tonight. I'll sigh ya out [BM1]and show you what a real man can do for ya before some needle-dick noble buys ya off the block."
"Lets have a look at the merchandise honey. Maybe ya can earn a little extra if ye are especially good."
Nesho kept her face expressionless as she worked the knots out of a piece of cloth that could have once been a blouse. Sosho was trying to emulate her mother but there were tears visible running down her cheek. Both were doing their best to ignore their 'suitors' and pretend they didn't exist.
Dent came to a halt behind the men and with his hands clasped behind his back took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
"Nesho! Sosho! It's time to go. This young gentleman is to show us to our berth. Pick up our gear and let's move. Gentlemen, if you will kindly excuse us."
The men started laughing as they turned but seemed to choke when they saw the armored, and armed, warrior standing behind them. Still blood spattered from the morning's battle, the faint smile noticeable on the apparition's face did nothing to quell their immediate unease.
Sosho jumped up and ran over and tried to hide behind him, her arms around his waist and face buried in his backplate.
"Who are ye?" asked one of the larger sailors. "And who says ye get them first? I got seniority here and that means I gets one of the first picks. Ship's rules!"
"Indeed, I have no intention of disputing either your seniority nor your right to 'pick' as you say," suddenly the faint smile vanished like it was never there, "but not with my property. I think you'll find me fairly easy to get along with if we can come to an agreement. You agree to leave my property alone and I will leave you alone." Using his hand to sweep in both the crying girl and Nesho he continued, "These are mine. They are not for sale and I do not allow anyone to 'borrow' them." Gesturing to Nesho she stood up and pushed through the men to stand by his side.
As he started to turn away he stopped short and turned back. "However," he said thoughtfully, "this one is a credible seamstress and the other knows a bit about herb medicine. If you know of anyone in need of these services I would be more than happy to discuss fees. Pass that around, if you please." Without waiting for a response he turned back and prepared to follow the obviously frightened Festou.
"Come back here, damn you! I'm not done with ye yet!" It was the big sailor again red-faced from embarrassment and anger.
"That's the one who kilt Kreis and Skelen," one of the others whispered, loudly. "Heard tell he kilt nine in all, all by 'imself. Cut them down like they was dogs, and with nary a scratch on 'im."
"Yea, well Kreis and Skelen wern't worth a shit if ye ask me," the big one said but with a little less conviction.
"Crap!" another piped in. "They was two of our best boarders they was. Heard tell 'e moves like a fucking ghost, coulda kilt the captain but didn't. Also heard 'e's full blooded Warrior, contracted to us now."
"Shit! Fucking warriors is more dangerous than fucking snakes. Should keep 'um chained up."
"Let 'im 'ave 'is pretties, Harg. If 'e gets kilt we get 'um anyway."
Ignoring their jibes Dent set off to follow Festou as he scrambled forward up the deck. Sosho walked behind him holding his belt as if she were afraid he would suddenly disappear. She had one hand on his belt, the other holding her bundle of clothes. Nesho followed carrying the remaining bits of their gear.
At the forward end of the ship -- the 'bow' Dent tried to remind himself -- they passed through a hatch and down another set of stairs. "Ladders" he was informed by the exuberant Festou; there were no stairs on a ship, just ladders. Chattering as he led, Festou pointed out told to them as they passed the sail loft, bo'sun's locker, and laundry, all far too fast for Dent to absorb any but a small portion. So it was down the ladder and forward again by way of a very narrow and dim passageway until they came to an open room that had to be about as far forward as it was possible to go.