Chapter Seven: Quaint

Blogtober 2022 Day Seven entry

The wind returned with the dawn, and the Beaumaris unfurled its sails and headed toward the sunrise.

“I had a thought, Captain,” Lowys said. “If this isn’t Earth, what if the sun rises in the West here?”

“Makes no difference,” Eila said. “It’s all we have to guide us, so we follow it, come what may.”

The wind was brisk, and the simple fact they were moving again lifted everyone’s spirits. Their hopes soared higher when the watch called out “Ship ahead!” from the crow’s nest.

Eila hurried to the bow, with Rhys a step behind her. The ship was small and quaint, bigger than a fisher’s boat but half the size of the Beaumaris. The shape of the vessel was similar to other ships they had encountered but with one significant difference.

“Do you see what I see?” Eila asked.

“No sails,” Rhys said.

“Not only that,” she said, “but no masts. Do you see oars?”

“No, Captain,” Rhys said. “If they are disabled, we should close on them soon.”

Eila and Rhys remained on the bow for the next hour, their ship slicing through the sea faster than they had traveled in almost a week, but the distance between the Beaumaris and the strange little craft ahead remained the same.

“Where are they leading us?” Eila wondered aloud.

“As long as it’s land, I’ll count it a blessing,” Rhys replied.

“Unless it’s a curse,” she thought. They followed the unknown ship until the sun was well behind them.