The Disjointed Tales Of Renryre Island

15-2: Which Way's North? [continued]

It wasn't until they had made it outside into the midday sun that Tyke released Makyron from his brutish grip, and the four of them proceeded toward the beach.

"What's your name, sailor?" asked Pektyne.

"Rendyle, Assistant Navigator."

"Navigator? You were responsible for getting lost?"

"Assistant Navigator. I only received the promotion-by-default a few months back. And I found this island, didn't I?"

Makyron could see the shipwreck as they neared it. A large three-masted, fully-rigged barque; the fore and aft sails triangular, while the two taller masts supported three sprits each, which in turn had the tattered remains of faded-white square sails hanging from them. The hull was made of a fine teak, perfectly finished, aside from the gaping hole that had developed from running aground.

It was the largest ship he had seen – at least in his unreliable memory. It was, however, curious that he knew anything about ships in the first place. At that moment, he couldn't concentrate on that puzzle; he was a little distracted by the mermaid on the beach. He tried to ignore her.

"I suppose you did find somewhere to land," agreed Pektyne. "How did you do it?"

"A little fish told me where to go," shrugged Rendyle.

"Right," said the constable. "No doubt. Fine. Well, the more important question is where did you come from?"

The navigator shook his head, grimacing. Makyron hardly noticed, his eyes were fixed on the mermaid seductively squirming on a rock in the shallow water, her tail flapping in a way that he could only describe as... inappropriate.

"I asked among the crew last night if any of them could remember. We think it was called Tennonport, or Port Tennon, or Tannon... something like that. So many years on the sea with the sun baking our heads has left us all a little forgetful, I'm afraid."

"Tennon..." said the constable with a thoughtful expression, "doesn't ring a bell. Was it on the mainland?"

"Does anybody else see her?" queried Makyron.

"The mainland?"

"Well, yes. This is Renryre Island. It was just off the coast of the mainland."

"Mainland... no, I don't think so. We could sail around it. But then, you can sail around anything if you keep following the coast for long enough."

"Seriously, none of you can see her?"

"I suppose that makes sense," agreed Pektyne, though he seemed rather disappointed. "But this particular mainland was... very big. That's why we called it the mainland."

"Maybe we just called it home," said the sailor.

"Right there, on that rock," insisted Makyron. "None of you can see her?"

"Don't you have charts onboard the ship?" asked the constable, suddenly excited again.

"Faded and rotted, I'm afraid. Nothing useful there."

"Tyke," pleaded Makyron, "surely you can see her?"

"Wha' a you on abou'?"

"So you have just been sailing around aimlessly," queried Pektyne with diminishing patience, "with no way of knowing where you were going? What about the compass?"

"The compass doesn't work, like I said."

"You did say so. But why bother keeping it?" asked Pektyne, withdrawing the compass from his pocket. "Look, it's pointing... north?"