THIRST 4.5

The wind gently swayed his aged face and blew through his bare shirt of chain mail, for wearing it would prevent him from swimming. It was the third day at sea, and although Dannke was not particularly kind to the waves, his squire was having the hardest time. He hadn't eaten for a day and was still gagging. His eyes looked exhausted and he was drooling like hell. On top of that, the crew was not kind to him.

The captain approached. He was a rough young man. His eyes reflected a tragic and difficult life. And just as the gods had been unfair to him, he was unfair to the rest, be they his sailors or Dannke himself.

"Near dawn we reach Viollara. Still no sign of the mermaid."

"What are those rock formations in the distance?"

"Cays. Navigating these waters is difficult, they are shallow and full of coral. If they were deeper, we'd be there in half the time, sir. Ahead are the beached ships."

"I see. Then there's not much we can do."

"Unless you can fly, no. Relax, enjoy the breeze and your food."

He gave a mocking bow and walked away with a smile. Dannke looked at Fleas, who was clinging to his left leg, his eyes closed tightly. Drool escaped from his snout and ran down onto the deck. Dannke shook it off. Fleas lost his balance, ran to the edge and retched.

"I thought you'd get used to it. If I had I known you would be so useless, I would have left you ashore."

*

Adding to the discomfort of being tossed randomly by the merciless sea was a high-pitched screeching sound that Fleas could not quite explain, but which he heard growing louder and louder. He'd heard it before, on the beach; it hadn't bothered him then, it was just curious. He had mentioned it to his master, but he had replied it must be from seasickness.

His body didn't seem to know that he had an empty stomach, and he made the effort to vomit anyway. The sailors looked at him and laughed.

The day passed very slowly, and in the evening they all gathered for dinner. It seemed to be a human custom to eat together, it was strange that he had done the same with Kkelea. Why should that be? Flea's stomach growled, complaining of its emptiness. To make matters worse, his food had been left on the floor, on the side, as if he were a dog. The raw fish smelled old, which increased his contradiction: he wanted to eat it, but it disgusted him. Dannke, noticing this, approached him and gave him the last strips of salted meat.

"Eat something. Otherwise you will lose your strength."

The old knight returned to the table. Fleas took a strip, looked at it for a long time, and finally summoned up the courage to put it in his mouth. Could he digest it?

*

Dannke didn't like the hustle and bustle of the sailors. He hoped it would all be over soon. He wanted to go back to land and have the chance to get away from people he didn't like, such as the captain. He also hated the way they treated his squire. He doubted if he should interfere and defend him, but he wasn't a strong young man anymore and he couldn't take on all of them at once. Although Filgad had appointed him leader of the expedition, it was the captain who gave the orders. Only wine gave him the courage to resist the evening, but when sleep revealed a yawn in his mouth, he decided to retire. Fleas had fallen asleep on the floor. He had eaten the strips of meat and the best part of the rotten fish. Dannke picked it up and carried it away. He heard the jeering of the sailors just before he reached his cot.

He awoke in the middle of the night because the breeze carried the laughter, then climbed down from the cot with difficulty, dodging the sailors who were too drunk to climb into his coy and were sprawled on the ground. Idiots. Dannke suspected that they didn't believe the mermaid's threat. Neither would he, if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.

He went outside. It was still dark, although the orange glow that heralded the dawn was visible on the horizon. The source of the laughter was three sailors in a semicircle near the edge. They surrounded Fleas, who had risen to vomit and had not reached the sea. A fourth, the captain, lifted him by the scruff of the neck. Dannke stroked the hilt of his knife.

"You little bastard, you'll have to clean the deck with your tongue."

"No, no," interrupted a sailor, "throw him overboard."

They hadn't noticed he was there. He waited patiently.

Out of fear, a dampness came out of Flea's trousers and wet the captain, who took a step back and, without thinking, took the sailor's advice and threw him overboard while insulting him.

*

The cold water surrounded him in a spectral embrace of death. Fleas could not swim, so he struggled for his life. The water got everywhere. In his eyes, his nose and mouth. Every time he took a breath of air, it mixed with the liquid element, provoking a terrible cough. No matter how hard he tried, he sank deeper and deeper. Finally, he stopped struggling and just watched in resignation as the faint orange light on the surface receded further and further. His sweet tears mingled with the saltiness of the sea. He closed his eyes.

He had not died. He did not understand why. He was breathing. He opened his eyes. He was in the sea, almost touching the colorful bottom. Life swirled around him, green algae, oddly shaped coral, shoals of fish that seemed to fly. His paws touched the bottom. The land rose gently, like a small cloud. Everything felt slower.

The high-pitched squeak was different now. It was a soft, sweet voice that declared:

"Do not fear the sea or its waters. The sea is the enemy of those who do wrong to it, but the ally of those creatures who suffer that wrong."

"Who are you?"

He could speak underwater, though his voice sounded low, awkward, and choked.

"I am the protector, the guardian. The spirit of the waters."

The voice, which seemed to come from everywhere, focused in front of him. Out of the dancing seaweed emerged a beautiful human-like woman, with webbed hands and feet, beautiful white hair, and scales on her limbs.

"Are you a mermaid?" He had to shout to make his voice sound natural.

"I am a naiad. The incarnation of the sea. And you... you're not from here. You're not used to swimming. You think of the sea as a terrible enemy when the terrible floats above it."

"It's you, isn't it? The one who sinks ships and bewitches men."

"I am the one who protects life. Man interrupts the flow of the waters, upsets the balance of the fauna, and leaves his deadly mark wherever he goes. Look."

The naiad pointed. In the distance, and faintly illuminated by the rising sun, Fleas could make out several sunken ships. Obviously they had hit the bottom, for it was not too deep, and the sea had swallowed them up."

"If humans continue along this route, soon all you see will be rotten wood and rusted metal, and nothing will be left of the coral, algae, and fish. And you understand my pain. I have seen how they have treated you. Don't worry, you are free now. And those humans will get what they deserve."

Fleas sighed. A few small bubbles came out of his nose.

"What ails you?" Asked the naiad curiously. "Isn't it freedom you want?"

"I don't know. I understand that they mistreated me, but not all humans are like that. Besides, if you keep attacking them, more will come. They will take it as a challenge."

"If I don't, more and more will come. Maybe the best thing to do is to curse them all. I do not have the power alone, but if I gather other deities together...."

"No!" Fleas interrupted. "Please, before you make a decision, talk to my master. Perhaps the two of you can come to an agreement."

The naiad was reluctant.

"You have a strength I've never seen before. It may be your undoing, earthling. I'll talk to your master, but I don't want him in my kingdom. Look at that cay, it barely touches the surface. I will wait for him there."

Fleas smiled and hugged her.

"Before you go, I want to give you something," she gestured, and a seashell rose from the bottom. Light blue symbols appeared and surrounded the object: "This will carry the water of death wherever you go. Just fill it with any liquid and pour it out. Whoever drinks it will die of thirst. Let the water be your strength where your arms fail."

Fleas accepted it, but he could not imagine such an extreme situation in which he would have to use it.

The water lifted him to the surface and even higher, to the deck of the ship. The sailors watched in amazement. Dannke smiled and folded his arms. He was happy, even though he would never admit it.