The Princess and the Captain (41 page)

‘Malva hasn't been through all those trials and ordeals just to find herself going into the Sanctuary with a husband on her arm yet again, has she?'

‘She's free,' admitted Hob gravely.

‘Free as air,' Orpheus repeated thoughtfully.

Another silence settled between them. In the sky above, more stars were coming out all the time: constellations, nebulas, galaxies. Compared to those distant powers, the iniquities of the human heart seemed unimportant. A thousand things could happen on Earth: there could be storms and tempests, war and famine could ravage nations, love could be born and die, but none of that would prevent the stars from following their course across the sky. Observing it, Hob and Orpheus felt soothed.

‘Those stars will guide us back to Galnicia,' murmured Orpheus. ‘And once we're home we shall only have to look at them to remind ourselves of what we all went through together.'

‘Like a knot in a handkerchief!' said Hob, almost smiling.

Two days later the
Fabula
crossed the path of a vessel from the kingdom of Norj on its way to the Orniant. Its captain, a tall, fair-haired young man, offered to take the survivors of the Archipelago on board his ship, but with his companions' consent Orpheus declined the offer. They all wanted to make for Galnicia as fast as possible. The captain of the other ship did
not try to make them change their minds. He gave them food, two barrels of drinking water, a fishing net, and a few elementary navigational instruments: a map, a compass and a sextant. He couldn't help asking the exhausted travellers what had happened to them, but Lei, acting as interpreter, was very evasive. She told him about the storm and their shipwreck on an island, but she didn't mention the existence of the Archipelago and the Immuration. Everyone on board the
Fabula
was aware that it wouldn't be easy to explain their passage beyond the boundaries of the Known World. For the time being, it was best to say as little as possible about it.

During the last dinner they ate on board the Norjian vessel, they asked their host for news of Galnicia. He didn't seem to know anything about the disappearance of the Princess, how her marriage had been called off, or the diplomatic consequences. Galnicia, he said, was a country that kept to itself. It was secretive, and so unwelcoming that no stranger had set foot in it for a long time.

These remarks troubled Orpheus a great deal. It was about a hundred days since he had set off aboard the
Errabunda
as quartermaster, not a remarkable length of time for such a dangerous expedition. Had the Coronador lost hope as he waited? Had he been deposed by conspiracies and intrigues? If not, what accounted for the way Galnicia had so suddenly shut itself and its misfortunes off from the rest of the world? The Norjian captain, who had been at sea for several weeks himself, was unable to answer these questions.

Malva also felt deeply uneasy when she heard the news. The vision of her country that she had seen as she sat astride the branch of the thousand-year-old tree on Mount Ur-Tha came back to her: the funeral procession, the bare trees, the disturbing
silence reigning over the Citadel … it looked very much as if there had been some disaster.

And yet when the
Fabula
put to sea again the next day the five members of the crew found themselves in quite a cheerful mood. Well fed, wearing clean clothes and provided with sea charts, they enjoyed sailing over familiar seas. They could take their bearings again, and the dangers lying in wait seemed insignificant compared to those they had already overcome. So when the sails were hoisted and Orpheus took the helm, crying, ‘On course for Galnicia!' his companions' faces lit up. Orpheus smiled at them. He was happy to be going home too, although at heart he thought how odd that was. He had hated Galnicia, and dreamed only of leaving it – how could he be impatient to set foot in the country again? When he saw the Upper Town once more, wouldn't his ghosts come back to haunt and torment him? Wouldn't he immediately regret the sea and his adventures there?

From the stern of the ship, he watched Malva clambering nimbly around in the shrouds. He banished his gloomy thoughts. With Malva beside him he felt strong, able to face down any ghost.

It was several weeks before they saw the coastline of Sperta at last. Malva stood on the fo'c's'le, one hand shielding her eyes. She seemed nervous and melancholy. Lei noticed, and joined her.

‘Do you see that line of white rocks over there?' Malva asked her.

‘They like skeleton bones,' said Lei, shuddering.

‘They're reefs, and very dangerous. That's where Philomena and I were shipwrecked on board the
Estafador
.'

The Princess's eyes darkened. She gazed at the shapes of the reefs, and remembered it all: the prow crashing into the sharp rocks, she and Philomena plunging deep beneath the water, and then drifting on rafts made from the covers of the hatches until the terrible moment when the nameless creature …

‘It was here that my leg was bitten,' Malva added. ‘We were swimming, hoping to get close to shore, and suddenly …'

She grimaced and jumped; it was like a reflex action. Then she turned pale, her breath came fast and she had to sit down.

‘You very sensitive,' remarked Lei, unbuttoning the collar of Malva's jersey to help her breathe more easily. ‘Wound cured now. Nothing to fear.'

As if to reassure herself, Malva rolled up her trouser leg and uncovered her calf. There was still a long white scar on her skin.

‘If Finopico alive, he tell you what beast live in this sea,' said Lei sadly. ‘Then at last you know name of nameless creature!'

Malva was absorbed in gloomy contemplation of her scar for some time. Then she said, ‘Finopico left us his books. Why don't I look at them?'

It suddenly seemed a very good idea. She went down to the galley, and behind a jumbled heap of fallen shelves and empty jars she found the books that had once been Finopico's. She shut herself in her cabin for the rest of the day.

At nightfall, as the
Fabula
was slowly entering the channel linking Tildesia to the marshlands of Eastern Armunia, Orpheus began to feel anxious about the Princess's prolonged absence. He handed the helm over to Babilas and went to knock on her cabin door.

Malva was sitting on her bunk surrounded by a mountain of open books. Frowning with concentration, she was studying the engravings and descriptions of fish by the light of a candle.

‘You ought to come up and get some fresh air,' suggested Orpheus. ‘It's pleasant up there, and you'll ruin your eyes reading all that small print.'

Malva gave him a vague look. It was obvious that she hadn't heard a word he had just said.

‘I didn't know there were so many species of fish in the world. Do you think Finopico knew about them all?'

‘He knew much more than I'd ever have thought,' replied Orpheus, remembering their conversation just before Finopico's death. ‘He was mainly interested in rare species. He dreamed of being admitted to the Maritime Institute with the other specialists.'

‘Poor Finopico,' sighed Malva. ‘I still can't quite believe that he'll never come back. I sometimes think I hear him scolding the twins … or Zeph.'

Her voice shook. Orpheus went over to her, and when he sat down on the edge of the bunk he saw the tears that threatened to brim over and fall down her cheeks.

‘We've lost so many friends,' she said. ‘I feel … I feel it's not right for us to be still alive, while they …'

And now her tears flowed. Orpheus took Malva in his arms to comfort her. Until now they had all carefully avoided calculating the cost of their voyage to the Archipelago. Finopico, Peppe and Zeph were missing from the crew – and from the hearts of the survivors. But the days had gone by, full of work and anxieties. They had to hold their course, hoist the sails, repair damaged parts of the ship and feed themselves, and all of this helped them to keep sadness at bay. But when she opened these books, Malva was opening old wounds too. Every page, every word made her think of those who had been lost.

‘When we're back in Galnicia we'll pay tribute to them,' said
Orpheus, stroking Malva's black hair. ‘Every Galnician must know who and what they were.'

Malva was sobbing, her tears falling on Orpheus's hands.

‘I don't know,' she said brokenly, ‘I don't know what I'll do when we arrive. It just seems so … so far off, so … impossible.'

Orpheus held her close.

‘I'm here, I'm here,' he repeated, letting her abandon herself to her grief.

They stayed like that for a long time, in each other's arms, their hearts beating fast and their fingers intertwining. Orpheus dropped kisses on Malva's forehead, her cheeks, her hair. He wasn't afraid of feeling as he did any more. Gradually Malva calmed down.

‘I was looking for the name of a sea creature,' she finally explained, suddenly moving away from Orpheus. She told him about Vincenzo's treachery, the wreck of the
Estafador
, and showed him the scar on her leg.

‘Lei healed it when we were in Temir-Gai's harem, but I shall bear the scar for the rest of my days.'

Orpheus picked up the candle and brought the flame close to Malva's bare leg. He looked at it for a long time, placed a finger on it lightly and traced the white mark.

‘The creature had fearsome jaws,' he murmured. ‘Those parallel marks suggest that it had two rows of teeth.'

He touched her skin again.

‘There … and there,' he said. ‘Two rows of pointed teeth.'

He raised his head, met Malva's eyes, and blushed.

‘I think I have an idea,' he said to cover up his confusion. ‘If I'm right, it would be …'

He quickly put down the candle and searched the works
spread out on the bunk. Finally he found the book he was looking for. It was the one Finopico had been reading on the evening when they confided in each other. He leafed feverishly through it.

‘
Page 243
,' he said.

He pointed to the engraving of the Ghoom of the Deeps, and read its description out loud. Then he handed the book to Malva, who looked at the illustration.

‘Well, if that's the creature that bit me I was lucky. It could have killed me and dragged me down to the bottom of the sea.'

‘And if it is,' Orpheus went on, ‘then Finopico was right, and the Ghoom isn't just a legend. It really exists.'

Malva looked at the engraving closely again, and then at her scar.

‘He so much wanted to prove that he wasn't wrong,' sighed Orpheus. ‘Poor man, finding that fish had become an obsession with him. And if we're right, he had the proof of it before his eyes!'

He put his hand on the Princess's leg once again. She had goosebumps. Orpheus slowly closed the books and piled them up on the floor.

‘You're cold,' he told Malva. ‘You must rest now.'

He picked up a blanket and made her get under it. When her head was lying on the pillow, her long, inky black hair was spread round her face like a halo.

Orpheus went very close to her. There was a silence. Malva closed her eyes, and Orpheus very gently placed his lips on hers.

At that moment their hearts were like the twin stars shining in the sky: two bright little points amidst the vast darkness of the universe.

Hob was asleep in the maintop when a seagull dropping fell on his face. He woke with a start. The bird flew away screeching, as if to mock him.

‘Filthy bird!' said the boy crossly, wiping his face on his sleeve.

Only then did he realise that this was the first gull he had seen for months. He sat up at once and leaned forward. Far away, he could make out the shape of land … and of a large building on top of a hill. Hob widened his eyes, opened his mouth, and shouted, ‘Galnicia! Galnicia ahoy! Land ahead!'

Hearing him, Malva, Babilas, Lei and Orpheus rushed up from the central hatch and crowded to the fo'c's'le.

It was a grey, still, cloudy day, but there was no mist; the coast of Galnicia could clearly be seen, and so could the mouth of the River Gdavir.

‘
Melfed liagh twyll!
' exclaimed Babilas.

His suntanned face suddenly softened, and Lei saw a tear of
joy in the corner of the giant's eyes. Her own feelings, of course, were not as strong; Galnicia was not her own country, and yet again she would be only a foreigner here. All the same, she felt glad to have arrived, and the idea of setting foot on dry land at last was pleasant. Most of all, she was impatient to mount a horse; Malva had promised to give her the best in her father's stables and an escort of soldiers to take her home across the Orniant.

Hob, in great excitement, clambered down from the shrouds and fell heavily to deck.

‘We're coming home!' he cried. ‘Bringing the Princess! The Coronador won't believe his eyes! We're heroes!'

And bursting out laughing, he began a little dance, whirling Lei away with him in circles and pirouettes until they were both breathless.

‘We are heroes, aren't we, Captain?' he asked, stopping to get his breath back.

‘That's not for me to decide,' said Orpheus, smiling modestly. ‘And you ought to wipe your nose better than that before asking a girl to dance with you. Anyone would think a bird had been doing its business on you!'

Hob went red as a beetroot and rubbed his nose until it was scarlet.

‘Well, at least we'll get a reward, won't we?' he grumbled. ‘I seem to remember the Coronador talking about mountains of galniks.'

Standing by the beak-head rail, Malva was in a melancholy mood. It was she who had decided to go back – no one had made her – but hearing Hob talk she couldn't help feeling like a trophy being brought home from the hunt. Orpheus went over to her and put his hands on her shoulders.

‘Don't listen to that loud-mouthed Hob!' he murmured in her ear. ‘If you want to change your mind you still can. We'll come ashore further away, somewhere close to the frontier, and you can disappear. No one will know you were here, no one will know where you're going. Not even me if you like. All you'll have to do is disappear again.'