Kapitel 53: Worms

It was time to set sail again. It seemed like the new men had been integrated surprisingly well. That meant there were no open quarrels and the portions served by the kitchen helper to the former mutineers were equal to those of the old crew.

There were only a few goats left on the ship, but there was plenty of the dark bread that everyone else seemed to hate. Its taste had grown on Serenica. She came to associate it with the northern parts of the ocean and the Princess itself. There was a certain rough sweetness in the doughy interior, the crust was crunchy and she found herself fishing for crumbs in the fish soup that had become a staple after Little John and his untimely death. It was customary to take a piece of bread and stir the soup with it, and spoons weren't popular for bringing the food to the eater's mouth, either, people would just tip the bowl in the correct angle and drink the soup or the broth or whatever delicacy was being served. Serenica adopted these habits.

While Spade did dine with the rest, he made it clear that he wasn't common, even among elite pirates. He always had to have his silverware with him. This meant that his dining went on and on a long time after the busiest men had gulped everything down. Serenica thought it was good to keep him company, so she intentionally ate her bread as slowly as she could. They had many interesting conversations below the deck, and no one seemed to mind. There was plenty of friendly joking about the dandy captain and the savage healer discussing the secrets of immortality together. Serenica didn't mind. It meant the men respected her. They recognized her to be someone who could do insane things in a tight place. She wondered what had kicked off such ideas about her.

She came to the conclusion that killing her snitching landlord had earned her a legendary status in the eyes of men who did such things for a living. She was sort of glad that the tales of the murder had been spreading like wildfire. At least she had a better chance of talking some sense into the crew when it came to health.

On their first day after setting sail some of the men complained of general, vague feelings of unease. There was little Serenica could do about that. She had a limited supply of herbs, and besides, she was not a healer of the soul. She didn't even know if she believed in souls. Perhaps every experience was a product of the brain, and when it was over, it was over.

Nonetheless, she sympathized with the men. They were probably just hungover.

"Something ain't right," Heike told her as they were patching up a little piece of the smallest sail. "Can feel it in my bones. If it won't stop, I'll start drinking."

"Watch your mouth," Serenica said. She knew that drunkards thrived on pity. "I have the power to get you tied to the mast if you talk of nonsense like that."

There was no more arguments from the old sailor, and Serenica thought the tide of the general mood had turned, at least until Spade came to her with an odd request. Actually, there were two requests, and neither of them made any sense.

"Keep an eye on Seppei and give me that rope," he said. "Don't ask why."

"I have to ask about Seppei, though," Serenica said. "What has he done? Or rather, what have I done to deserve this? You know he kind of dislikes me."

"Aye, Seppei barely tolerates you on most days," the captain said. "That is exactly why I am asking you and not William, who is adored by everyone. You see Seppei's worst side. You can tell when something unusually heinous is going on with him. You can easily discern any mutinous thoughts from his regular grumpiness."

Serenica could barely believe her ears. The situation of the crew had always seemed perfectly harmonious to her. Sure, there were petty quarrels every now and then, but as Spade was feared, he was loved as well, and the way his men spoke of him bordered on limerence, that was how fond of him they were.

Serenica shook her head. "If the addition of the men who left Theon on his own causes irritability in men as loyal as yours, there is little I can do about it. They all think I'm crazy."

"Do you think they consider me sane?" the captain asked, raising an eyebrow.

Serenica noticed that he had neglected to pluck the parts of his facial hair that were usually the first thing to go in the morning. She didn't know if it was some omen or not, but it felt like it could bode ill to see Spade in a state of relative dishevelment.

"You are worried, aren't you?" Serenica took his hand before he could withdraw.

Yes, the wriggling feeling was still there, perhaps even stronger than before. It seemed like the captain himself was oblivious to the constant movement inside him. It could have been an illusion, of course, but having seen her fair share of dark witchcraft she doubted it. Not everything was merely perception. There were sinister forces on the move. She knew it to be true and she was angry at Spade for being so careless. She liked him, she liked the way of life he had introduced to her and she liked the Princess. The thought of parting with any of those scared her.

The moment had lasted for a frighteningly long time. The captain had not broken the skin contact. He was staring at Serenica, silently, intensely.

She realized that her friend was well aware of his condition. It just wasn't something he liked to talk about, and how could he have brought it up, anyway? There was no socially acceptable way of apologizing for feeling like a massive pile of worms.

Serenica had an intrusive thought about how Myorka felt as his wife, when she was under him and making love to him. The healer shuddered.

"I will do what I can," she said.

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