“Well, now,” the Wolf said, looking closely at each of the Daring Dream crew in turn. “I am Bemrasoria Madsoor—to which of you mealy-brained, gill-quivers might I address some complaints about the condition of this ship? Shattered bowsprit...Smashed oarports...a dangerous rip in the main sail...the hull crusted in barnacles...Seems downright unfriendly and inhospitable for seabeasts to lay around on the beach over yonder like a mess of oily-looking spoiled fish and not have this ship ready for sail. There’s a wide sea to cross and the Ogress will begin to blow in a few days. This ship isn’t fit to sail across a cup of warm spit in a calmin’ breeze. Who’s the captain here? Why isn’t he in irons for not having this ship ready to sail?”
Bem Madsoor’s display of bold, insulting defiance toward their captain stunned the Daring Dream crew. The normally brave and rowdy crew stood in mute astonishment. Rough manners and harsh characters were well known to them, but the brash, insulting spirit of this Wolf was startling. Such an insulting beast ought to be jumped and tossed into a rowboat. But something about Bem’s manner took the edge off of her insults. Something was likeable about her. There was a rough good-humor in her eye and the constant smile on her face seemed genuine.
“Aye, I seem to recall seein’ the captain,” Red Whale said dryly, still covered with the net, but taking it calmly, startled as much as the rest. “He’s a bad one, though—you can be sure of that—he sailed this here ship right through the Narrows, laughing all the way. And he’s done worse and made port in ships a sight worse than this one. We call him ‘Red Whale,’ and you would be well to know he’s like a Jack-o-Lantern because he has a kindly, laughing shell on the outside, but the fires of hell burn on his insides. So, I offer the warning to one so bold.”
Bem smiled and bowed to Captain Gumberpott, then pulled the net away with lightning agility. “Now dear captain,” she said bowing to him, “I see that irons are not needed to restrain you, which I hope is not an indication of how you will serve in the coming campaign against the Rummers. We sail tomorrow at dawn, do we not?”
“Tomorrow!” Red Whale exclaimed. “Not on your life, Wolf! This ship needs repairs and the crew needs rest. We don’t leave here before a week passes.”
“Well,” Bem replied, “it ain’t my place, as a common seabeast of this ship, to give my opinion on the captain’s plans. But, speaking as a beast that knows the way through the Voi-Nil to the Outer Rings—and that you have maybe two days before the Ogress begins—I wouldn’t think the good captain would want to keep us waiting.”
Red Whale nodded slowly. “I suppose ya ca’in put up ta bowsprit yerself? Fix the oarlocks? If ya can do that, we’ll sail ta’marrer for sure.”
“Dear captain,” Bem replied with a grim smile, “although you’ve been too long asleep in your hammock—wasting precious time—I see you’re now awake and your crew ready to work. Every worthy beast must put heart and back to making the ship ready for sea. We sail tomorrow at high tide, if any of us knows how to sail a ship! Delay beyond that and there’ll be no reason to sail at all.”
“No reason t’ sail at’all?” Red Whale roared. “We t’ben sailin’ two months n’ we’t nen’t stayin’ here, ner goin’ elsewhar’ thin t’a the Outer Rings. We’s’sailin’ but when’ I say’s we sail!”
“The Ogress sweeps the seas clean beyond the First Past,” Bem said. “Every seabeast with half a brain has long ago made the voyage across those dangerous seas or is safely in port to wait out the Ogress season. You’re free to make your ship into drifting splinters and trash if you want, but not one sane beast will sail with you when the Ogress is running. You sail into the seas beyond the First Past this time of year and no one will hear from you again. The Ogress are storms like you’ve never seen—sucking winds strong enough to haul a ship right up off the waves and then slam it down again, rain so thick a beast can drown without ever falling in the sea—Aye, the monster waves are the best of it! You want to run the Ogress seas a few days late, you can be my guest, captain—but neither I, nor your crew will be going with you! We sail tomorrow, or we don’t sail at all.”
“And now ya be decidin’ to be t’ Capt’n, is that it, hey?” Red Whale bellowed.
“Nay, captain,” the Wolf replied. “You are the captain and given the orders for sure. I’m just a common seabeast—in your service, as ever and always—but, being the captain, you’ll not be fool enough to sail beyond tomorrow, you mark my words.” Bem paused and pointed to the first evening stars that were beginning to appear in the sky.