Chapter 369:
Caspian
Before we set sail, we spend hours at the dock, loading supplies. The crew works under Marina's sharp commands—barrels of gunpowder, crates of shot, sacks of dried meat and hardtack. Fresh water. Rum. More bullets than I've ever seen in one place.
I watch them load the cannons. Round iron balls, stacked in wooden racks near the gunports. Shot, they call it. I make a note to remember.
When we're finally ready—when the holds are full and the decks are clear and the men are at their stations,we raise anchor and set sail.
Our destination: the northwestern waters. Where the monster lurks.
*
I stand at the bow, my spyglass pressed to my eye. The brass is warm from the sun. The lens brings distant waves into sharp focus.
The wind is good. The sky is clear. Marina is at the helm, shouting orders I barely understand.
"Hands aloft! loose the fore sail!"
"Trim the yards!"
"Starboard! Starboard, you lazy bastards!"
