Blood Red Tide (Bad Times Book 2) by Chuck Dixon

Author:Chuck Dixon [Dixon, Chuck]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2020-05-15T16:00:00+00:00

34

The Diviner’s Boy

Caroline came awake in the dark. She felt rather than saw Dwayne by her. He was snoring noisily. There were voices coming through the decking above. The sounds of shuffling feet descended the planks into the hold. She kicked a foot out to awaken Dwayne. He sat up with a grunt.

A young boy, probably twelve or so, was in the lead. He wore a skirt and sandals and a faded wool tunic that looked several sizes too large on him and was belted with a length of cording. He held a lit oil lamp in one hand and a basket under his other arm.

Following behind him was an old man with long white hair and a scraggly beard. The old man wore a patched and faded robe cinched about him with rope. There was a hemp sack slung around his bony shoulders. He descended the steps cautiously, placing both of his bare feet on a step before proceeding to the next and reaching for any available handhold. His back was bent nearly double. Untreated scoliosis, Caroline guessed.

The boy spoke to the sleeping guard who got to his feet and climbed the steps to leave them alone. The boy set the oil lamp down in the sand and knelt before the captives well beyond the reach of either of them. He pushed the basket forward across the sand. Caroline strained the length of her chain to reach it and pulled it toward her.

It contained food along with a clay jar of water. She set the basket between her and Dwayne. She had to hold the food to his mouth so he could eat. They shared dried figs, salted fish flavored with, what else, garlic, and some kind of cheese that stank like hell, but they ate every crumb. They washed it all down with clean water that probably came from Jimbo’s spring.

All the while, the boy sat speaking softly to the old man, who remained silently studying the strangers. The old man rummaged in the woven hemp bag and pulled out an amber stone the size of a silver dollar. He held this stone up to his eye as though studying the captives through it and made clucking noises with his tongue.

“What’s his deal?” Dwayne asked, licking fruit pulp off his chin.

“I think he’s a seer or a soothsayer,” Caroline said. “He’s creeping me out. What’s he here for?”

“Sailors during this time didn’t sail from the sight of land without one of these guys around. They look at the portents and signs to divine whether or not the augments are favorable for the voyage.”

“So, what’s he doing down here with us?”

“The captain and crew have a lot of questions,” she said. “Are we real or phantoms? Are we witches or demons? Are we a danger to them or was finding us a good thing? Maybe we’re worth a ransom. Or maybe we’re favored by the gods.”

“And what he decides determines whether they kill us or not,” Dwayne said.

“Let’s hope we make the right impression.

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