Chapter 4 - Nose Dive

“Since, life exists for two distinct purposes, survival and procreation. Suicide is an unnatural act.”

                                                                  by, LeeRan Sing, S&S

Gormand’s world swung around him. His body was lifted, flipped and forced face down into the stretched skin deck of the ship. Cort’s massive muscular frame covered the frail Prince in a Human shield long before the Preen traitor struck.

The clawed feet of the birdman landed on the deck near Cort and his master. The spongy soft deck gave slightly and then returned to its original tautness as the Preen executed a perfect two taloned landing.

Cort was on his feet with both bone daggers drawn and positioned before the Preen could even finish his self accolading congratulatory bow. A blade to his throat and a blade to his groin persuaded the Preen not to hold that bow. The Strooga Captain was a second behind Cort and grabbed the back of the Preen’s head digging his webbed fingers deep into the bird’s black down.

The Prince stood, habitually wiping his clothes off even though the deck was clean enough to mate on.

“Let me slit his throat and give him to the Carver. We would all eat well this evening,” Cort suggested. “I quite enjoy chicken.”

“I needed to speak with the Prince,” cooed the Preen.

The Strooga Captain tightened his grasp. A small, yet quite painful electric charge left his fingertips and entered the birdman’s skin through his nerves and to his heart. The Preen grabbed his black feathered chest.

“This is my ship, fowl. If you need to speak you go through me,” the Stroogian Captained ordered.

“I apologize,” he chirped.

“Actually, this is my ship. You, Captain, are a Strooga and cannot own a ship. You in fact are only a Captain due to your great skill and knowledge of this vessel and the seas,” the Prince corrected. “Release the Preen, he is a loyal. And if either of you had ever read a book you would know that Preen always plummet.”

“We can plummet great distances and not harm ourselves,” the Preen added with a few quick nods.

Cort cut his blade into the Preen’s feathers. “Don’t interrupt the Prince, crow.”

“Release him,” the Prince commanded.

The Strooga Captain released his grip and backed away. Cort sheathed his blades and stepped back as a few ebony pinfeathers drifted gently to ground.

Pivoting his neck in two half circles, one left and one right, the Preen stepped forward. “Thank you my Prince and master.”

“Speak.” the Prince commanded.

The Preen looked into Cort’s eyes but addressed the Prince. “The Fisher Port is ahead. It appears lifeless except for a few scavenging lizard-like Whipt’s. They appear feral. Probably left behind by some adult. Disgusting creatures. Anyway, the sea around the dead village is also devoid of life. And the surrounding rocks appear treacherous.”

“You can see that from here?” the Prince asked.

“Yes.”

Prince Gormand Dance looked out over the blue water horizon.

“You will see land in a few hours my Prince.”

The Prince’s eyes narrowed and his head tilted as he looked back to the beak faced man.

“Strap him to the base of his perch and give him, oh, ten shocks, Captain.”

The birdman’s eyes opened wide for the first time. A Human and a Strooga seaman grab the Preen’s arms and pushed him against the bony masts. The Prince turned toward the front of the great dead ship.

“That information should have been given to the Captain,” stated the Prince. “Cort, with me to the front of the ship.”

The Prince walked away. The Strooga Captain cracked the knuckles in his webbed fingers and approached the Preen. Cort turned and followed the Prince to the bow.

Resting his hand on the giant skin covered skull cap of the Plathora, the Prince stared out over the ocean. Cort stood silently behind him.

“Can you see land yet?” the Prince asked.

“No.”

An electrical crackle was followed by a noise that was a cross between a groan and caw. Cort and the Prince did not react. A second crackle was heard, again followed by the same response.

“I saw him taunt you. You’re welcome, Cort.”

Cort grinned in response to the Prince’s comment. The Prince looked from the corner of his eye without moving a neck muscle to see Cort’s emotional response. It pleased the Prince to make his most faithful subject happy. He knew of Cort’s torments. And almost felt pity for the big loyal oaf. Another crackle and another groan and Cort’s grin faded.

Blour dug deep in his own nose. Retrieving a glob, he examined at it. Its mix of yellow, green, red and brown reminded him of the Servant who was now enjoying every inch, inside and out, of the angelic LeeRan. Blour crushed the buried treasure between callused fingers. Then as the nearby moaning and oozing noises stopped he smeared his pickings on the epidermal layer of the ship’s walk-through wall. He slowly stood, stretched and reached out for the flap of skin that was the Princess’s bedroom door. He stopped before opening it.

“Princess LeeRan?” he called out.

An eyestalk poked out from a crack between the wall and the flap.

“The Prince requests her presence on the deck,” Blour said to the eyestalk.

It blinked twice and returned inside.

“Blour, wait there,” the Princess commanded.

“Yes, your Highness,” Blour answered.

He watched and tried to remain calm as the stretched bulkhead of the ship absorbed and digested his snot gob.

Cort and the Prince gazed upon the scarred land and dead sea before them. The land, a gentle sloped beach, dotted with decayed, burnt and abandoned huts of the Fishers, was a sickening yellow. The small trees that once gave fruits and berries were forever blackened with ash. Nothing moved here except the gentle laps of the dirty gray water that slapped out at the village. Surrounding the village on the land side, sheer cliffs. Once Preen nest-huts hung from those rocks. But they were long gone from the Horde’s invasion and whatever remained was erased by the seaside weather. One crisscross path led up the cliffs and to the top. There several walls and small rough cut stony towers stood in defense. They were now crumbled and useless. On the seaside, lifeless was the huge horseshoe shaped coral reef that surrounded the cove and the entire village. And except for a gap, a rock wall surrounding that dead and bone white reef was still smiling. Though now it was salt pocked and stained with avian dung.

“Over one thousand Fishers once lived here,” stated the Prince.

He quickly looked to Cort realizing that not only did Cort know this but that it disturbed him deeply. Cort responded only with a nod, resisting the pain twisting in his gut.

The Plathora’s snout cut clean straight lines through the ocean waves. Briny seawater splashed onto the deck of the great ship as it approached land. The Stroogian seamen enjoyed the misting they received and worked with the tingled hum of their hymn of the sea. Humans sang songs, Stroogians hummed them and Preen, especially the lookout on this ship, only spoke. Singing and humming, all Preen considered quite primitive.

The Preen once again clung alone at his post as the mighty hulk began to slow. His feathers were singed in several places. He dug his claws deep into the bones of the ship with the thought of one thing: freedom.

“Prepare to anchor!” the Captain called out.

A Human sailor stepped toward the Prince. Cort prevented his forward motion. The sailor dropped his head.

“Excuse me, but we need to drop the anchor or we shall crash unto the rocks,” the sailor said meekly.

“Don’t speak to the Prince, peon!” Cort yelled.

“Thank you, mighty Cort, please ask the Prince if he would like to drop the anchor.”

Cort looked to the Prince who simply shrugged a yes.

“Show him,” Cort ordered.

Without looking up the sailor pointed to a lever, a pin and then a small wheel. The Prince was practically leaning on them.

“Pull the lever back, release the pin and if the wheel doesn’t spin, whack it. Please, my Prince.”

As the Plathora ship gobbled up the water between them and the rocks the Prince gingerly followed the directions. He pulled back the lever. The rocks now visibly jagged and wet, grinned as the meat stretched carcass ship approached. Prince Gormand pulled the pin and it remained in place, stuck. A wave licked the rocks like a tongue across a predator’s waiting fangs. The nervous sailor reached out to pull the small clip pin holding in the larger pin. Cort smacked his sea hardened hand away with such force the sailor fell to one knee. His Highness reached for the clip and yanked it free. Rows of rock teeth looked like a jaw as the ship moved up and down in the waves, hungry for even the thin-skinned Plathora. The larger pin now slid free and the wheel spun on its own as if it knew the urgency of its task.

The great snout of Plathora with its four now jeweled eyes fell nose first into the ocean trailed by a twisted strand of what were once its intestines. The face anchor sank rapidly and grabbed hold of something at the ocean bottom. The entrails pulled taut, stretched, retracted and brought the mighty sea beast to a smooth stop thus denying the rocks a meal by just a few King’s feet. The crew, except for the Preen and Cort, let out a cheer. Prince Gormand Dance turned and bowed deeply to the captive audience.

LeeRan fell forward with the jolt of the vessel. Spiny black hands reached for her. Blour entered the Plathora’s abdomen and grabbed the worm-like servant’s shoulder. A quick jerk and the Servant hit the wall and bounced to the soft deck landing on his excretion hole.

“Touch the Princess again and I’ll gut you maggot!” Blour growled.

Blour helped the seemingly helpless tiny Princess to her feet. Glancing back at the worm-man, he thought of that creature inside the future queen. He should have squashed it, but that would be impulsive. He was no longer impulsive. He was calm. He had time...

The Princess straightened and adjusted her dress which was too tight and too long.

“Thank you, Blour,” she purred.

“My duty and honor.”

“That abrupt stop means we have arrived, finally?”

“Yes, Princess LeeRan,” he answered. “Something more appropriate for the Princes to wear, Servant.”

“This is fine,” she corrected.

He nodded and helped her leave the room. He glanced back at the Servant.

“Get her traveling bag and follow us. Now!” Blour instructed as he spun off.

The Servant gently brushed the walls of this chamber. He would miss this chamber. A parasitic kind of comfort existed here for a worm. It made him reminisce of his own life cycle. With a sigh he grabbed her traveling sacks, left the abdomen and entered the bowels.

Emerging from the Plathora’s colon would have been worse if the beast were still alive. Now it was just another tube that led to the outer skin and to her future husband, Prince Gormand Dance. Maybe it was worse? The sphincter contracted as she touched it. Then it opened allowing sunlight into a place it would not normally shine. Blour lifted Princess LeeRan up onto the deck from underneath. He gently placed her down and jumped from the anus with great agility. Landing on his feet he assumed a fighting stance to defend his Princess against a possible attacker or rapist. None existed but this was standard procedure.

The crew, Human and Strooga alike, noticed the lovely waif-like angel as she seemingly glided towards the neck section of the hide covered skeletal ship. Blour stared down each Human crewman, one by one. He knew these sailors were no match for his skill, dexterity and strength. Blour also knew that he could most likely kill them all and five or six Strooga before they could take him down, maybe more if enraged. Or even more if still a Horde soldier. He could have easily dispatched them all in that frenzied blood rage once attained with the Bloodgeon’s aide. Bloodgeon was still in his mind. If he had just a few drops, all would be dead, except of course for Cort.

Somber and sack laden, the Servant left the large intestine and wormed its way onto the squashy deck. Everyone, including the Preen averted their eyes from watching it emerge. There was just something far too disgusting about it.

Cort touched the Prince’s shoulder and he jumped. He was not used to being touched. That same hand that touched his royal shoulder now pointed to his future, the lovely, perfect, innocent little LeeRan. Forgetting Cort’s poor manners Prince Gormand watched her walk, no drift, past a staring human crew and by the oozing Strooga. They all wanted her, but Gormand knew Blour would keep her safe and pure.

“Breathe my Prince,” Cort said through a grin.

Prince Gormand glanced at Cort and saw his tight-lipped smile.

“You’re a lucky man,” Cort added.

Gormand let out a breath and a smile.

“One day I’ll have your head, Cort,” chided the Prince.

“If that’s what’s required, but please my Prince wait ‘til I’m done with it.”

“A deal,” the Prince agreed as he returned his lovelorn gaze back to LeeRan.

LeeRan approached and stopped by an inward-facing circle of five Strooga. She curiously peered between the shoulders of two of the sea-anemone-men. Surprised by her closeness they looked quickly for Blour. Blour was not moving, halted by a hand from the petite Princess as she peeked to the center of the Stroogian ring. A slit in the ship’s skin floor was being pried open by two tool toting bloated corpse men.

“Princess,” the Captain greeted her.

She wasn’t sure if this fishman was the Captain or not. They all looked alike. She smiled just in case.

“Good morning, sir,” she responded.

“We are opening the esophagus to the mouth and sending down divers,” he informed her, “To scan the reef for enemies and dangers, milady.”

“May I watch?”

She smiled that knee-weakening smile at him.

“It’s our honor,” the Captain answered.

“LeeRan! Please get away from there!” Prince Gormand called out.

Her killer smiled disappeared, replaced by a brow-lowering look of death. She quickly caught herself and waved at him. Through clenched teeth she spoke. “Proceed, Captain.”

The Captain looked up to the Preen who scanned the sea around them, a large crossbow ready in his arm and a smaller crossbow in an equally manipulative foot. Its other limbs gripped the bones of its post.

“Clear, lookout?!” the Captain called out.

The Preen’s head turned 180 degrees around, then back, then the other direction 180 degrees and back.

“Clear!” He cawed.

“Tridents,” the Captain ordered.

Two Strooga jerked their legs. Cords attached to their ankles tightened as black tridents glided through the air. Blour drew his dual daggers. Each Strooga caught the other’s three-pronged weapon. Blour wrapped his massive arms in a protective posture around the Princess. His shield of daggers was useless since no attack came. The Stroogians simply traded weapons and stood at attention.

“LeeRan! LeeRan!” the Prince called out.

“You’re safe with us Princess LeeRan. It’s just ritual,” the Captain informed her knowing full on who the boss was. “A ritual of luck and comradery.”

“Proceed,” she said through an opened mouth smile.

Several of the Strooga blinked their clear eyelids, she was sure.

“Step back, Blour,” she commanded.

Blour released her and complied.

LeeRan looked down into the forced open throat of the expired sea-monster. A single Strooga now held both prying tools in place and another climbed down the cartilage ribbed ring tube. Down the gullet he traveled with ease stopping only at the bottom on the multi-layered row of closed deadly serrated teeth.

“The mouth?” LeeRan inquired.

The Captain nodded. “Yes, once used to tear apart whales and sharks and worse.”

She coyly shivered at the thought.

“LeeRan! At my feet, now!” Gormand called out again in frustration.

She waved him off with a hand.

Below, a Strooga balanced on the largest teeth and touched the corners of its mouth. Blue sparks of electricity left his fingertips and entered into muscles that yearned for stimulation. The maw opened with one smooth motion revealing the ocean beneath it. LeeRan leaned over to watch as the two trident carrying fishmen leapt from the deck and feet first splashed into the ocean below disappearing from sight.

“Blour! Bring LeeRan to me! Now!” Prince Gormand ordered.

Blour stepped forward but was too late. An errant wave shifted the brain dead vessel. LeeRan fell. Whether accidentally or on purpose, it didn’t matter.

She was gone and Blour’s massive arms emptily hugged the salty air.

As she disappeared from view a revolting sucking gurgle came from deep inside the Servant. Its eyestalks focused on the hole that had swallowed his master.

LeeRan fell. Falling always felt slower than it actually was, unless you’re a Preen. LeeRan was Human and dropped at a normal rate. She looked down for the water below, but unfortunately there were only the many rows of jagged teeth as she had not jumped or fallen out far enough to clear them. She was only skin and bones herself but more than enough of a last meal for the long dead beast.

As LeeRan nose-dived to her death, below the waves, the two Stroogian divers calmly swam away from the Plathora ship and toward the once life-filled coral reef of the Fishers. Towards the place where a beast and its lizard-like Whipt children now roamed. And directly into the failed realm of the once great Fisher Reeg.

Next Chapter: Chapter 5 - Stingerfish