“Magnificent, isn’t it?” As far as his eyes could reach were boats – fishing trawlers, and cogs from mercenary bands and coastal villages alike. Yerdan had always dreamed of sailing with such a fleet. Granted, in his dreams it was doing battle with the Mahearean navy, but fishing for mermen was almost as good.
“No, it’s madness.” Ornea’s eyes were narrow, and her neck was tense. She was checking the ties between the nets. “It’s all gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“Our gold. We spent it all on this folly.”
“You felt the magic when it died. You said it yourself,” Yerdan said. “We need the mermen. Then, the captain will rise again, and he will bring us back from this. With his leadership, we can do anything. I know it.”
“It’s not worth it. And what if he finds out about what really happened that night on the war galleon?” Ornea dropped the nets and took Yerdan’s face in her hands. “Listen to me. The captain’s finished. Even if he survives this, he’s got no fleet, no crew, no gold. He’s finished. We should’ve taken our share and–”
“How are the nets?” Ulf’s booming voice carried across the Hauler.
“They’re fine,” Ornea said.
“Good, ‘cause we’re here.”
A sailor hoisted a red-coloured flag to signal the fleet to get into the formation that they discussed before embarking. The boats formed a long line and, once every one of them was in position, they lowered their nets.
Yerdan gripped the railing, but not to steady his stance; the sea was still. Eerily so. No, he did it to steady his mind. Almost a month of preparation culminated into this moment. Even with the help of the healers, the captain did not have much longer. This had to work, and the silence of the crew betrayed that everyone knew it.
A thousand nets were deposited into the sea, sloshing as they hit the water. Long lines connected them to cranes that were mounted upon the boats.
The nets fell to the sea floor. Then, when the lines lost their tension, a green flag climbed the mast to signal the fleet. The ships raised their sails and began dragging the thousand nets.
“Come on, Ornea.” Yerdan patted her on the shoulder. “Put your worries aside for a second and take in the view. Look at that line.”
Despite her narrow eyes, Yerdan thought that he saw the corners of her mouth curl up for a moment. Though it may have been his imagination.
The winds were picking up, but even then, the Hauler was slowing down. The nets were getting heavy.
“Time to reel them in,” Ulf commanded, and another flag was hoisted. It was the red flag again.
Yerdan joined the other sailors and grabbed a winch. The levers were heavy, and it took two people per winch to retrieve the nets. From the depths emerged a writhing mass of fish, rocks, seaweed, and mermen.
A cheer broke through the squelching of the haul, and before long, similar cheers came from the other ships. It appeared as though they were not the only ones with a catch.
The nets were emptied upon the deck one by one. Each time, the sailors hurried to restrain the trapped mermen with Ulf leading the charge. The creatures were bound and gagged and brought below deck.
“Four.” Yerdan retrieved a small knife from his pocket and stuck it into one of the fish on the floor. “We caught four. Not bad.”
“Yea,” Ulf was gleaming. “Now, we go again.”