Haddad looked to the door, hoping no one was within hearing distance.
"Don't say that," he whispered to Fumash. His friend misunderstood him as he continued his task.
"He's been a good master in comparison to some, but I am not here by choice," Fumash said as he began to secure the sheath of cloth with a series of strategic tucks and a long pin. "I might even like him, but he is the enemy, and I would leave him dying if offered the chance."
"What do you mean?" Haddad said, forgetting circumspection. "We're leaving tomorrow night. The crew has fought a battle, and we need to leave before they recover."
"The captain will be especially vigilant after this, and there is no way I am going to sneak out of this cabin. I am on a deathwatch and will be expected to stay here until he dies or recovers. Even if he dies, death rites will demand my presence." Fumash was bitter, but his hands motioned Haddad to gently lower Druik to the rough mattress. "If he survives at least two more days, I might be able to leave. You will have to escape for both of us." Fumash tried to give Haddad a smile but couldn't manage it.
"I can barely stand in a small boat," Haddad said, "much less sail on the open sea. If you don't go then I can't go." He realized that bolder action would be required. "We go in two nights or die trying. If you are with someone, slave or Keldon, kill him and meet me at the ship's boat. I am not expected to serve Latulla and am not closely watched, I, too, will kill if I must."
Fumash was doubtful about their chances, and it showed. He had been a slave for a longer time and was used to pushing hope farther and farther into the future.
"We have to leave, Fumash." Haddad gripped his own shirt and it tore as he tried to rein in the anger threatening to explode at this sign of doubt. "Every day that we stay we shrink and lose a little bit more of ourselves. If you don't run you'll be as crippled and helpless as Druik is now." He laid his hand on his friend's arm and finally received a nod of agreement. The decision and near-resignation was plain in Fumash's eyes as he turned to the medical kit and began withdrawing implements for amputating the destroyed leg.
A Keldon guard came in as Haddad tried to nerve himself up for the possible operation. The warrior advanced into the room with his head lowered as a sign of respect for the fallen lord.
"You are commanded to appear before your mistress, slave," he said to Haddad. Despite the harshness of the words, the Keldon sounded almost polite. The warrior turned to Fumash. "I will assist you in what needs to be done."
Fumash gave Haddad a quick nod and showed two fingers where the guard could not see them.
"Two days," the small man mouthed.
Haddad nodded quickly. Two days until escape from the ship. As Haddad left to serve his mistress's pleasure, Fumash turned back to the instruments.
"You've been down in the hold since the attack," were Latulla's opening words. "Was there any damage to the cargo besides the crate you broke open?" The lack of gratitude firmed up Haddad's plan to escape even over her dead body.
"I don't know," Haddad said as the injustice of her implied criticism sank in. "I was busy trying to kill the beast and help save the ship." Latulla's flat stare reminded him that he lived at her sufferance.
The captain and Latulla stood at the entrance to the hold after finishing the survey of the deck. Haddad could see two sailors down among the cargo searching for more remains of the gastro-jelly, the nearly empty bags of catalyst ready in their hands.
"Considering how much damage it did to the crew and ropes up here, who knows how much cargo was devoured when it pooled in the hold?" The captain had survived the attack but worry about his cargo threatened to overwhelm his relief.
"Fetch the inventory that you prepared, check my crates, and then the rest of the cargo," Latulla ordered Haddad. "Report to me as soon as you and the captain are finished. I will be in my quarters or with Lord Druik." She turned and walked away.
Haddad waited until the warriors in the hold finished their search for any living jelly. He didn't care how quickly Latulla wanted him to get to work. After the all clear, he went carefully down into darkness with other crew who the captain detailed to the task. Haddad set lanterns alight in the dark comers, and no one gainsaid him even though light poured in through the open deck hatches.
Except for the one Haddad broke into, Latulla's crates survived the battle without a scratch. In the farther hold it was a different story. The monster had poured through the upper hatches and landed on the supplies of biscuits and other provisions. The mound had spread over other crates, and a few had given way, their contents strewn among the remains of the beast.
"We need to clear this hold and check everything," said a Keldon mate. The first few attempts to shovel the monster's remains into a barrel for disposal were very tentative. The odor and settling of the remains when the first shovel broke the crust sent men stumbling back. But under the repeated orders from the Keldon mate, the crew began to collect the mess and put it into barrels. A winch was quickly rigged on deck, and the barrels began rising out of the hold to dump their contents into the sea.
"What shall we do with the stores that are contaminated?" asked a crewman who uncovered a container of cheese. The mate looked at the rounds covered in muck. He cut a wedge and saw how trails of digestive juices had eaten their way through like worms.
"When in doubt, toss it out." Supplies went into the barrel and then whole containers of food were hauled up. Perhaps the captain disagreed with the mate when he saw containers of meat going up, but his own investigation of its purity overwhelmed even his iron stomach. It took hours to check every barrel and cask. Eventually the provisions not violated during the attack were separated out. More than half of the food, water, and spirits were emptied over the side, and the sober faces of sailors told Haddad that things were serious indeed.
The corners of the hold were filled with crates that seemed to have escaped the touch of the devourer. But even after the long day that the crew had put in, there was no break. The captain rotated men from the deck to the hold. Haddad continued working except for a few trips to the deck for relief. He devoured an issue of rations that he ordered from the cook, letting him think that he was carrying it for a Keldon down in the hold. Latulla had tasked him to remain until the survey of damage was done, and his bravado wasn't yet strong enough for him to disobey.
Haddad became more nervous when a wall of crates came down. Behind the booty stolen from the League were stasis boxes. The image of the eaten corpses he had found in another hold mingled in his mind with thoughts of the monster's ghastly appetite. He really did not want to open the boxes. Of course, the mate overseeing the crew did not solicit his opinion.
"Crack them open," the officer ordered. He motioned two Keldon sailors forward, their strength necessary in the tight quarters.
"All of them?" one of the Keldons asked incredulously.
"Just the ones marked as occupied, fool." The mate pointed to a circle on the foot each of the forty or so crates. Most of the circles were broken, an arc left out, and Haddad quickly realized that only those with closed circles needed inspection. "We'll do those on top and several from the bottom." The crates were stacked three high and a cargo net was attached to cleats and bolts to prevent shifting in heavy seas.
"You will open them, slave," the mate said and handed a lever to Haddad. The two crewmen swung a crate down, and Haddad set the iron bit in the latch. He levered it open in a rush, then took a deep breath as he forced the lid up, expecting a corpse. Instead there was only an armored warrior in stasis. A great sword lay clamped at his side, and at the warrior's feet lay a bag of coins spilling out stolen League silver. A Keldon warrior going home with riches squeezed from Haddad's homeland. No breath or movement from the body, but even as tired as Haddad was, he could tell that the man wasn't dead. There seemed to be an air of satisfaction and expectation to the still warrior. The Keldon lay ready to arise and conquer, and Haddad hated him. It was the same as they went down the line, until Haddad felt nothing except exhaustion as he opened the boxes to reveal the sleeping warriors within.