“Did you ever stop to consider what lies out there, Simna?” The herdsman spoke without taking his gaze from the water, even though in the hush of night nothing save a few fleeting phosphorescences were visible, minuscule ghosts scuttling across the surface of the sea.
“I’m not you, Etjole. I’m more inclined to ponder on what lies on the far shore, how expensive it is, how attractive, and how much longer I have to spend rattling around inside a wooden hull before I’ll be able to investigate it.”
Ehomba murmured something inaudible before replying with conviction. “You are right, my friend. You are not me.”
“The treasure’s to be found in distant Ehl-Larimar, isn’t it?” As forthright as henna on a courtesan’s cheeks, avariciousness rouged the swordsman’s words. “Watched over by Hymneth the Possessed. He’s obsessed by this Visioness he’s abducted, and so are you, a little bit, but his real concern and yours is the treasure he guards in his castle.”
“Simna, I really don’t—” Ehomba’s reply was cut short by a shout from the third mate. She was standing in the rigging on the starboard side, the opposite side of the ship from the two travelers.
“Ware the gunwales! Something’s coming up!” Everyone not on duty, passengers included, rushed to that side of the ship. With many of the crew already belowdecks either in their hammocks or preparing to retire, it was not immediately swarmed. There was room for each individual to peer over the side without crowding out a neighbor.
At first Ehomba saw nothing, only dark water and the barely perceptible reflection of a slivered moon. Then one of the sailors standing by the boarding ladder that always hung over the side as a precaution, should anyone fall in, shouted and gestured straight downward. What had moments before been apparent only to the mate from her elevated vantage point could now be seen by all as it rose from the depths.