Lateen Sail

Roger flung back the reeking wool-felt blanket, muttered softly as he rose, then scooped up clear water from the wooden basin and splashed his face, instantly restoring his alertness.

Pushing open the door and stepping out of the stern cabin, he saw two masts of different sizes standing on the sun-scorched deck. The sails had already been lowered, but the triangular wolf-head flag fluttering from the mainmast's lookout tower had not been taken down.

With his back to Roger, Bitter Melon Face, the steward, was beneath the canvas awning in the middle of the deck, directing Baldhead, Ponytail, and the others as they rowed.

Those two honest fishermen had never handled such a strange two-masted sailing ship. They did not know how to use its two differently shaped sails to move smoothly, and with today's shifting winds, the vessel lurched between motion and stillness.

Left with no choice, they simply lowered the sails and rowed the pirate ship along the eastern coast. It took them three hours just to reach the mouth of Lamlash Bay.

When Roger heard Little Horseherd beside him talking about how none of them knew what to do with this pirate ship, his interest was piqued.

He paced slowly along the starboard side, carefully inspecting the pirate ship.

The Cog was about forty-five feet long and fifteen feet wide. Its hull was short, broad, and rounded, with three sturdy deck beams jutting beyond the hull to reinforce it. A projecting ram stood at the bow, while its flat, keel-reinforced bottom allowed the Cog to travel freely through rivers, seas, lakes, and streams.

Its broad belly could carry more cargo, and its oak planking was laid in overlapping clinker fashion, durable enough to withstand the years. Yet pirates inevitably spent their lives fighting at sea, so the hull was scarred all over, with five oar ports on each side.

At the bow stood a tower two men high, smaller than the sterncastle. It could hold five or six archers or spearmen, and a wooden ladder leaned against its side. Half-man-high wooden battlements ringed the top, turning it into a sea fortress during boarding battles.

The bottom of the bow tower was left open. Against it stood a lame-legged low table, beside which were a crude clay stove and a pile of split firewood. Pirates drifted over the seas all year round, and from time to time they lit a fire here to cook some barley porridge or hot soup.

An anchor hung from the protruding deck beam on the port side of the bow. It would be dropped whenever the ship anchored at sea.

Behind the bow stood the canvas shelter made from felt cloth, with several straw beds spread inside. A mast jutted abruptly from the front of the shelter. It was only as thick as a bowl and far smaller than the mainmast farther aft, with a furled triangular sail hanging from it. Judging by where it joined the hull, it had clearly been added later.

That struck Roger as strange. In his hazy memories, he seemed never to have seen such a foremast. He had seen plenty of multi-masted sailing ships in later times, but he did not know much about them either.

Still, after examining it closely, Roger roughly guessed that this was a lateen sail the pirates had modified themselves, meant for sailing against or across the wind. He could not help marveling at the creativity pirates had unleashed in order to survive.

In the middle of the hull was a square opening roughly five feet across, with a wooden ladder leading straight down into the hold.

This was the ship's belly. It was low, dark, and somewhat damp, holding three prisoners as well as stores of food, fresh water, ballast stones, and the like. Some straw had also been spread for the lackeys to rest on, though when it did not rain, everyone preferred sleeping beneath the deck awning.

Behind the square opening stood the tall mainmast, carrying a square sail, with a wooden lookout tower at its top.

The stern held the tower and the chief's cabin. To the right of the cabin door, a dozen or so wooden steps led up to the tower atop the cabin. It was relatively spacious, and besides serving as a battle fortification, it contained a long tiller beneath the awning near the center of the stern. It connected to the central stern rudder and was usually handled by a dedicated helmsman.

After making a full circuit, Roger asked the old steward Bitter Melon Face, who had been following beside him, "How much could this ship sell for?"

Bitter Melon Face reached out and knocked on the gunwale. Seeing that much of the hull had already rotted away, he shook his head. "This should be a merchant vessel built by traders from the Five Southern Ports. It probably cost between two hundred and fifty and three hundred pounds to build. A new ship could sell for four hundred pounds."

"But this one has been sailing for at least fifteen or sixteen years, and the pirates were poor at maintaining it. At most, it's worth fifty or sixty pounds now."

"Young Master Roger, do you know what that sail on the mast is for?" Bitter Melon Face pointed at the foremast. He had traveled south many times with merchant ships from Allen Island and had seen two-masted ships before, but never that kind of triangular sail.

"That thing should let a ship sail against the wind."

Bitter Melon Face's face was full of disbelief. "Sail against the wind? How could that be possible?"

Roger could hardly explain the decomposition of forces to him. In his previous life, that had been basic middle-school physics, but to people of this era, it would be nothing but absurd nonsense spanning time and space.

"I don't know the details either. I just happened to hear someone mention it." Roger brushed him off, but he still decided to drag out those prisoners tomorrow and question them properly.

"Young Master Roger, we've entered Lamlash Bay. Should we go home first?" The weary old steward's brow finally relaxed somewhat, and his tone became much lighter.

Roger raised a hand and pointed at the simple wooden pier outside the fishing village on the right shore. "Can this ship dock there?"

Bitter Melon Face behind him thought for a moment. "Yes. The Baron came here once last year."

Roger nodded. "Dock at the little fishing village first. Take the hunters and a few others to carry Blackhide Dog back to the manor, find a room to settle him in, and send someone to look after him. Then have the fat cook prepare food for seven or eight people and send it to Holy Island. We'll wait in the shack at Salt Beach."

Bitter Melon Face wore a pleading expression. "You should return to Milkhouse Manor first. Madam will worry."

"Go back and tell my mother that I'm unhurt. I have some matters to deal with on Holy Island first, and I'll return to the manor tomorrow."

Bitter Melon Face's expression began resembling a bitter melon again. Yet ever since seeing those dozen or so corpses today, he had suddenly developed a trace of fear toward Young Master Roger. The islanders used to call him an evil ghost; from now on, they would probably call him a demon.

Roger's tone was firm, and he did not dare disobey. Turning around, he directed the rowers to bring the ship alongside the simple pier at Lamlash Village, then took out the gangplank and set it onto the dock.

"Baldhead, Ponytail, Missing Tooth, Gambling Addict—you four stay behind. Everyone else, follow the steward ashore." Roger kept a few of the street thugs behind. They had nothing to do in their ordinary days anyway, and could lend a hand here.

The moment those fellows heard that Young Master Roger wanted them to stay, all their faces lit up. Over the last two days, they had learned a profound truth—follow Young Master Roger, and there would be meat to eat.

On the other side, Bitter Melon Face pulled Little Horseherd aside and whispered something to him. Little Horseherd looked thoroughly unwilling.

After a while, Bitter Melon Face came over to Roger and said in a low voice, "Young Master Roger, if you won't return home yet, then let Igo stay and serve you. With a servant at your side to look after you, Madam will be much more at ease."

Roger turned and glanced at the reluctant Little Horseherd. He guessed the corpses outside the mill had frightened him badly.