The sun was up above the level of the mountains to the east of the group, and so there was no leniency, no gradual introduction of light, like any other hungover person might plead for; there was just light, horrible blinding light. Artemis had his coat off and wrapped around his head, Soot had nothing to cover his eyes, and moaned and grumbled with every step, Lizbeth had ripped a thin clothing garment and wrapped around her eyes, there was material enough to block the worst of the sun, but not enough to block her vision. Derst, as usual, didn't seem too affected, though he did stumble as he rose. Dex was suffering symptoms similar to the rest, even though he had much less husqvarna. He, similar to Artemis, had a coat over his head.
The group didn't know what woke them, but they all did wake at the same time. Each of them was silently praying it wasn't something hostile; they were in no shape to fight.
'BARNACLES!' came a shout from around the corner of the river, the reeds still concealing all but the crow's nest of the craft.
'I SPY THEM, SIR!' came a call from the man in the nest.
'Cuttlefish.' said the helmsman quietly. It was perhaps quiet for him, though the group could still hear his curses from the dock.
'There is our ship.' said Artemis, ignoring the glances of disapproval and apprehension the rest of his company gave him.
The looks were not underserved.
The ship had turned the corner just as Artemis had spoken, and it was not the most confidence-inspiring vessel. It had been black at one point, but now the paint had faded to a dark grey. The sails were similarly colored. It was a two-masted ship, the mid-mast sporting three sails and the crow's nest, the stern-mast two square sails. It was fairly sized, Twenty-five, maybe thirty meters in length. The figure head depicted a scalpel grotesquely removing a big toe. Written in peeling gold paint were the words The Tourniquet. It seemed unlikely that the deck or belowdecks were in a state of cleanliness bereft of the outer ship.
'That is our ship?' said Dex to Artemis. A crewman answered for him, shouting over the beam.
'This ain't your ship, no how. Your just usin' it to get where you want.' the others on board laughed at the first crewman's taunts, until the captain walked down the stairs, unbeknownst to the first man.
He was shirtless showing of a flawless physique that stood a head above the rest of the malnourished crewmen. His skin was dark as night, his hair shaved almost completely. He brought twisted whip made of who knows what down on the offender's back without warning. He fell to the floor, but picked himself back up again almost instantly. Soot saw through the new opening in the man's shirt numerous scars of whip-like shape, and realized that the man was probably a man who thought himself more important than his peers. aSoot hated self-righteous men.
The shirtless man, presumably the captain, welcomed the group on board with a surprisingly mellow voice, for it was undoubtedly the same man who had been shouting previous. 'Welcome onto the Tourniquet. Let me show you to your quarters,' he turned to the crew 'Abnable! Man the helm! Guss! Loose the second sail! Dorznay! Clean the privies!'
The men laughed as the whipped man walked belowdecks with a distasteful look on his face. When he thought he was out of earshot, he said some distasteful words about the captain's parentage. The whip shot out quicker than the eye could see, and Dorznay tripped. Before the he even reached the ground, the whip was wrapped around the captain's belt hook. The crew laughed again. Soot got the idea that the man wasn't liked very much on board. He must be god at something, or he would've been let go at a port, surely? It didn't matter, Soot thought as he shouldered his pack and walked the gangplank. The captain offered to take his bag, but Soot turned him down. There was more than husqvarna that was rare and dwarfish in his bag.
