Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) Jonathan Michael (red novels .txt) 📖
- Author: Jonathan Michael
Book online «Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) Jonathan Michael (red novels .txt) 📖». Author Jonathan Michael
Gentry speaks like he’s done this before. Of course he has. He’s a professional angler with seasons upon seasons of experience on the water. They’re bound to get bored occasionally and experiment with ridiculous ideas.
With evening upon us, nearly everyone is on deck. Captain Crowbill, Stave Killstone, Stripe McCord, and the helmsman are all at the helm, likely plotting the new course—upriver, where else? I stare grudgingly until the captain makes eye contact, then I shy away.
Shiner, Cudgel, and Chunk continue to scrub the decks. They’ve been lazily completing the task and are currently working the poop deck. For three men working one mop, it’s surprising all three of them are soaked in sweat. Unless, maybe, they can’t figure out how to keep the water in the bucket.
The cook is in his small kitchen prepping the next meal, and I’m assuming Lump and the other deckhand are down below helping him out. Lump seems the type unable to resist testing the food before it’s served.
Gentry signals to the helmsman. I’m not sure what it means, but he nods in return.
The lines are deep in the murky red water for only a moment when the entire ship jerks abruptly and shifts port side. I look to the helm, thinking they’re the cause, and the two men are braced against the deck rail, with the helmsman holding the wheel with arms flexed tight, struggling to keep it from spinning recklessly. The three deck scrubbers are all on their asses.
A wicked smile crosses my face at the sight. Then I see all the anglers, excluding me, are at the boom attempting to reel in a catch. “Wait!” I look to the helmsman. “That wasn’t…” I look back to the anglers. “That was a fish?” Whatever is on the end of that line is the reason Shiner and his men are on their asses and the helmsman is struggling to keep the vessel straight. Why they don’t just cut the line baffles me. Anything that can manipulate the course of the ship is far too big to be brought on board. The crew, however, don’t seem to agree.
“Elder! Get your ass over here and man the pulley!” Gentry screams at me while manning his line. “Shiner, Cudgel, this is a big one! We’re gonna need your strength. Boomer, Edgerin, you’re on standby ‘til we have it hoisted over the deck. Then you can get to binding its mouth and immobilizing it.”
“Who’s gonna net it?” I ask ignorantly. The only response I receive is a smack upside my head and a glare telling me to shut up. No laughter or heckling. Everyone is tense.
The boat veers port side as I struggle to hold the crank steady. It jerks, then goes limp. Then pulls taught again, and I lose my grip, letting it spin wildly. After it slaps my hand a few times, I regain control and hold it tight with both hands, unwilling to lose it again for fear of the consequences. The other men, with no help from me, struggle to gain any momentum on reeling this thing in. Boomer joins in on the tugging to get it closer to the boat. They make headway, and I crank the pulley in unison to keep tension on the line.
The four men are at a standstill with the monstrous fish as it splashes and rolls in the water. The captain, first mate, and second mate all look tense as they rush over to the other boom on port side. They raise it in no time and ready another line. Except this one doesn’t have a hook. They tie the end of the line into a slipknot and throw it into the water where the battle is. Are they trying to lasso a fish? I’m just the greenhorn here, so I keep my mouth shut and follow suit regardless of how ridiculous their actions are.
Captain Crowbill pulls the line taut. They’ve lassoed it! What?
The goliath fish is wearing now with two lines tugging at it in separate directions and a third restraining its thrashing. They’re making progress, and both me and the captain crank our pulleys as fast as we can to keep up with the momentum of the anglers. The fish continues to fight hard, splashing and rolling until it is slowly raised out of the water.
For the first time, I get a glimpse of what we’re reeling in. It’s no fish. Or at least it doesn’t look like a fish. Not any I’ve ever seen. It’s a third the length of the ship, and it has legs! It has a long snout with massive teeth protruding from it and a long rigid tail with its spine bulging from its back, head to tail. And no scales. Don’t all fish have scales? Tigershit! It’s a river monster!
“Pull! Pull! Pull!” Gentry yells as we get this beast raised higher and higher. I follow orders mindlessly. “Pull! Pull! Pull!” He continues yelling rhythmically until we have it hoisted over the deck. Two hooks pierce its jaw, and the other line I believed to be noosed around its neck is lassoed near the base of its tail, tightly secured between the spines running down its tail. Between the three, they are holding it parallel to the deck. “Don’t let up. Keep it taught! Keep it taught!” Gentry eyes me. “Or you’ll put us all in danger.”
As if we aren’t already. The river monster is snapping its jaw and attempting to roll over, causing the two lines to twist together.
“Edgerin! Now!”
Edgerin, ready for his role, throws up another line, looping it around the beast’s jaw. He pulls tight, clenching its mouth shut. He quickly ties the line to a separate boom, immobilizing the beast’s head, but the tail still flails chaotically. Edgerin then grabs two more ropes he had prepped and moves in low as he approaches the thrashing tail. He
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