Serious Charges

"Something slippery was on the deck?" Caspian asked carefully.

"Yes, sir." Ishmael replied. "I took the liberty of asking around for who swabbed the deck, and I was assured by the sailor that he did so quite thoroughly before we left the bay."

"Has this man a reputation for lying or slacking?" The younger man was thorough in his questioning.

"I've known him for many years, and I don't believe the man to be either lazy or deceitful." The elder replied.

"Are you of the opinion that something spilled there, or was placed there on purpose?" Caspian finally got to the crux of the implication. It was a grim question to ask under the circumstances.

"I cannot fathom what could have gotten there accidentally. I stood beside your father from the moment we left and don't recall anything spilling before he fell."

Caspian nodded gravely and patted the man's shoulder heavily in thanks before dismissing him to attend to other duties or get some rest, whichever he preferred. The man had likely been up watching over his father all night and deserved a break.

After he left, Naomi turned worried eyes on her husband. She arranged the food onto plates and offered him one, and he smiled as he took it.

Even when she was in danger and likely tired and sore, she took the effort to serve him first.

"Thank you," He said sincerely.

"I will look after your father if you need to investigate," She offered.

Caspian chewed the food thoughtfully and nodded. He intended to go keep watch for Leviathan after eating anyway. Though this cabin had two windows to let in light, he could always come back and take her to the hold if clouds came closer.

He hoped they could be home long before then.

"Caspian…" Naomi seemed hesitant to speak.

"What is it?" He had gotten lost in his thoughts, but now turned back to her.

"The wound on your hand," She began tentatively, and he held it up for inspection.

"It's fine. No sign of it going bad." He assured her.

"I'm glad, but that's not what I meant," Naomi's eyes held concern. "Your hand had oil, mixed with the blood before."

Caspian stopped chewing. She was right. When he'd been cutting the net free, it seemed oddly slippery and oily, and some had gotten on his hands. In the chaos of the moment, and what had happened afterward, the information had escaped his notice.

"Could it have been the same? I don't know much about what is on a ship." She seemed afraid that it was a stupid question.

"I'll have to go find some of the broken net," He replied thoughtfully. When a net was cut, the remainder was usually saved to be repaired and woven into a new, full net if possible. Sometimes, if the damage to it was severe or there was not enough to be worth saving, it would be dried for use as a fire starter.

He hoped it had been put aside and saved this time. He would take it to Ishmael for comparison to the substance found near his father's place.

"What will that mean?" Naomi asked fearfully.

"I don't know," Caspian swallowed and set his plate aside. "Stay here, and keep the windows covered. I will come get you if you need to hide in the hold. If you hear any yelling or other alarming sounds, get away from the windows."

She nodded gravely and stood when he did. He left, and she was alone with her thoughts and her unconscious father-in-law.

Humming softly, she took up the cool rag that Ishmael had left behind, dipped it in water, wrung it out, and pressed it gently to Haf's forehead.

"Please be all right," Naomi told him. It wasn't in her nature to be talkative when she didn't have to be, but she felt some strange compulsion to speak to the sleeping man. Perhaps she could coax him into waking up with the attention.

"Your son needs you," She continued. "I can see it in his face. And I'm sure Edmar will make a great leader, someday, but perhaps not yet. He could use you to guide him for a time longer before he becomes ready. At least, that's my opinion on the matter.

"You seem a man of great wisdom, and what child wouldn't flourish under that?" She thought back to her own father, who rarely looked at her or spoke to her except in harshness, and her stepfather, whose sneers made her cringe away and want to disappear.

"Cora needs you, too. You have a great woman at your side in life. It would be such a shame to leave her alone when you could still have so much time left. You have not even seen grandchildren yet! Would you miss such a thing?" She blushed after having said it, but there was no one to hear.

"You'll need to find Edmar a good wife. One who will help make him into a great leader, and who will give you many fine grandsons to bounce on your knee and watch play around your feet."

"Have you given up hope of your own children so soon?" Haf's weak voice came a moment before his eyes opened.

"You're awake!" Naomi exclaimed. "Let me get– I mean, send for Caspian." Surely the man outside guarding the door would still be there?

"No, stay," Haf whispered the command, but she still felt the authority in it and sat back down in the chair beside the bed.

"What can I do?" She asked, realizing he was probably thirsty. She brought him a cup of water.

He drank deeply, but she hesitated to offer him food just yet. She knew vaguely that sometimes when people hit their heads they could get sick to their stomach. Perhaps waiting a few moments would be better.

"I trust you," Haf said. "Rhone has had no prior place among our people, and you were not on the ship before it sailed."

"Does that mean there are people here you don't trust?" She asked with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Edmar," He choked out, but his eyes filled with tears as he said it.

"He roped a leviathan and brought us to a world with a pink sky. Caspian is trying to get us home now." Naomi provided.

Haf laid his head back and closed his eyes with an exhausted air. "Then it worked."

"What worked?" Naomi asked, but was met with silence. Haf had fallen back asleep.

_____

Caspian stood at the bow, scanning the water for any sign of leviathan. It was fruitless so far. Still, he had managed to find the discarded net and cut a piece of the oily rope for Ishmael to look at when he awoke from his well-deserved sleep.

It was a peculiar consistency. Dealing with fish had its fair share of slimy byproducts, but he'd never felt something like this before. He rubbed his fingers together where the residue still lingered.

It was an unfamiliar sensation, slippery yet slightly gritty at the same time. He was at a loss for what it could possibly be.

He pretended to stroke his short beard in thought as he sniffed the substance again. It had a vaguely herbal scent, but he couldn't identify it at all. It was a puzzle indeed, and one he wasn't willing to let anyone help him solve, except perhaps Ishmael.

The man had worked alongside his father for so many years that surely he was beyond suspicion. Then again, at this point, was anyone?

Caspian tried to think about whether there was anything unusual going on before the whale attack. He'd been so distracted by Naomi's presence that he hadn't paid as much attention as he might have otherwise. He was regretting that now, but it was only supposed to be a day's voyage, nothing like this.

They were supposed to have been back by nightfall.

The ship was always well-supplied in case the journey was longer than usual due to storms or rogue currents that prevented timely return, so that wasn't particularly noteworthy. Was it?

He couldn't push away the impression that Edmar was completely at ease, perhaps even joyful, over the present circumstances. Several rare creatures had been caught, and in that respect the voyage would be considered a rousing success, assuming they could get home safely.

Navigating in this world was a tricky and haphazard affair. They had diligently mapped the stars, if any, in each world they had been to, but that information was limited by weather, relatively little in the world, and a number of other factors.

The stars here seemed inconsistent, and constantly, but subtly moving. When the crew did get back to their own world, there was no guarantee they would be anywhere close to home.

Caspian closed his eyes for a moment and hoped against hope that he would hear the telltale call of the beast that could bring him home. He might never want to leave his hut again.