Born of Empire: The Chronicles of Kydan 1 by Simon Brown

Author:Simon Brown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pan Macmillan Australia

14

Heriot finished her morning meal, some dried goat meat and cheese on bread as hard as a plate. It had little flavour, other than salt, but the full stomach it gave provided some measure of comfort. She thought she had had damn little of that since her father died. She returned to her usual spot on the orlop deck. She wished Rosalla was still there. Someone friendly to talk to would have been another comfort. She thought it was funny how you could think you did not need anyone except yourself, not thinking about all the people you met, all the little conversations in a day that added up to something substantial. It was strange that here on Hannemah, living closer to people than she had even back in the small hovel her father had owned, she felt almost completely alone. In a half-hearted way she even wished Arden would return to bother her, half-hearted because she could not get it out of her head that he was dangerous in some way; not directly perhaps, but dangerous the way the ocean is dangerous, or a storm. He looked a little like a storm with his black hair and beard and glower, although she allowed that bad moods had been the fashion for most people during the voyage. Now that the fleet had arrived at Kael there was a noticeable improvement in the colonists below decks. She overheard conversations about plans for the future, about farms and families and fair weather. Always inland, away from the sea. No one she heard wanted to see the sea ever again.

Anxiously, the colonists had waited for word of when they would be disembarking.

Heriot heard dimly a series of barked orders coming from officers on the main deck, followed by the sound of sailors running to posts, the sound of their feet a flat echoing through the wooden hull. The colonists glanced at each other with puzzled expressions, although one or two suddenly looked alarmed. Did they think they were being attacked? Heriot wondered.

Then she heard the unmistakable sound of the anchor being hauled up, the ship’s huge capstan grinding in its seat, the sailors pushing on its spokes starting a shanty. Hannemah was leaving the bay.

A murmur passed around the orlop deck like a strange collective sigh.

Maybe they were going to a different part of the island, Heriot thought.

A new order was given up above, and the entire deck fell silent, waiting for the order to be repeated.

‘Make sail!’

The dropping of the mainsails was like a soft, billowing thunder.

‘By the Sefid, we’re leaving!’ someone cried, excited.

‘They can’t make us go!’ said another, his voice edged with anger. ‘We want to get off this bloody ship!’

Again everyone on the deck fell quiet, as if every human on it was thinking about what had just been said; then the silence was broken by an angry muttering that slowly rose in volume, and the sound became shouts and cries. More orders were given above, and the ladders

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