Subject: [FFML] [Fanfic][R1/2] Ruler of the Raging Main Part 8
From: Jamie and Bridget Wilde
Date: 3/14/1999, 1:44 AM
To: ffml@fanfic.com
Reply-to:
wildeman@psn.net


 

-- Listar MIME Decryption --------------
-- Name   : Ruler of the Raging Main 8.txt

                              SYNOPSIS

     It is the year 1670 AD. Ranma Saotome, his adopted sister Ukyo, 
the Amazon Warrior Shampoo, and the Lady Akane of the House of Tendo 
have been abducted by Portugeuse traders in the Orient. It is the hope 
of First Mate Manuel Delgado that they fetch a high price as slaves 
from the President of the Audencia de Panama, Don Juan Perez deGuzman, 
who is rumored to have a fetish for Asian women.
     While on its return voyage, the _Deguello_ is sunk in the Andaman 
Sea by a sea monster known as Anfaulag. The monster craves the spirit 
of Nerial, Queen of the Mermaids, which resides within the jewel of a 
ring worn by the _Deguello's_ captain, Eduardo Cristobal. Cristobal 
dies, but not before passing on the ring to the unwitting Ranma with 
his final breath.
     Ranma and Akane are swept under the waves by a sudden squall, and 
are confronted by Neptune, God of the Seas. Neptune informs Ranma that 
the ring he now possesses is a curse against all mariners for their 
crimes against the mermaids. Ranma is given the choice of accepting the 
ring with its powers and its curse, or surrendering it to Neptune, that 
the god might at last keep it from the hands of men. Knowing that Akane 
will drown without the magical aid of the ring, Ranma accepts it for 
himself. The ring will grant him all of the powers of Neptune. It will 
also kill him within a year and a day.
     Ukyo and Shampoo wash up on an island in the wake of the squall. 
They soon encounter a magnificent fleet of ships under the command of 
the Golden Dragon of Myanmar, Prince Hsinbyusin of the Burmese Kingdom 
of Mandalay. Ukyo is taken prisoner and made one of the prince's 
concubines. Before she can fulfill her new duties, she is rescued by 
Shampoo, and together they escape from the camp with the prince and 
his men in pursuit.
     Manuel Delgado and the panda-cursed form of Genma Saotome have 
also survived the sinking of the _Deguello_, and in the company of 
Jesuit priest Father deGama and the stout Seaman Estremoz, hope to 
reach the colony of Syriam, near Rangoon, in what is modern day 
Burma. Delgado has a dream of Nerial, who promises to lead him to 
the ring, that he might claim it for himself. Their journey is filled 
with hunger, thirst, and pain, and they are on the verge of death.

            -There are now 363 days left to Ranma Saotome-

________________________________________________________________________
         J. Austin Wilde and Fission Park Press proudly present:

                      RULER OF THE RAGING MAIN
             Part Eight: The Treacherous Tides of Fortune

                     By J. Austin Wilde, K.B.C.S.
                   Super Critical Reactor Axe Man
                         Fission Park Press
                          wildeman@psn.net
                    http://www.psn.net/~wildeman/

              The characters and situations of Ranma 1/2
               are the creation and property of Rumiko 
                Takahashi and Shogakukan/Kitty TV/VIZ

              -----------------------------------------
             |  Previous installments are available    |
             | at the URL listed above, or by request. |
              -----------------------------------------

________________________________________________________________________

         "Oh! Hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us.
            And black are the waters that sparkled so green.
          The moon, o'er the combers, looks downward to find us
            At rest in the hollows that rustle between.
          Where billow meets billow, there soft be thy pillow;
            Ah, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!
          The storm shall not wake thee, no shark overtake thee.
            Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas."

                                      -Rudyard Kipling

       

                             Chapter One



     Ranma shivered himself awake in the cold dawn. As he sat upright 
and stretched out his tired and sore muscles, it amazed him that any 
place with such sweltering days could have such frigid nights. Akane 
lay asleep, curled up within the tattered folds of her kimono on the 
other side of the fire. He watched her clutch tighter at herself for 
warmth. 
     The fire he had made the previous evening had burned down to a 
smooth layer of white ash in the bottom of the pit. There were a few 
pieces of driftwood remaining, and he could probably get them to burn 
once he'd uncovered the embers within the ash. The question was whether 
to save the wood for the evening, or kindle it now and hope that he 
could find more fuel. 
     He looked at Akane once more. She would be warm once the sun rose 
a bit more into the sky, that was certain. That fact didn't stop him 
from kindling some their remaining firewood.
     That taken care of, he rose and stumped off behind a stand of 
trees to do his morning business. He noted with some relief that his 
urine was clear and abundant. He was getting over his dehydration then, 
and he felt assured that he would be able to do the heavy labor 
necessary to get them off the island, or barring that, make their stay 
more comfortable.
     Tools were the big problem. He didn't have any, nor did he know 
how to make them from the raw materials at hand. It was going to be a 
slow learning process, and he was glad for the ready store of spring 
water and plentiful fruit. Without them, he would have no time 
whatsoever to learn the skills he'd need.
     He started down the beach in search of more driftwood, and was 
not disappointed. Pieces of the _DeGuello_ were still washing up on 
the sand. He picked them up and set them down upon a long flat rock 
above the tide line to dry in the sun.
     Driftwood wasn't the only legacy of the _DeGuello_ that he found. 
Several bits of crab ridden carrion washed up onto the beach as well. 
These he left alone, trusting to the crabs to finish their work before 
sundown. He was grateful that nothing appeared that was even remotely 
identifiable as human, for though he was a ronin, and supposed to be 
accustomed to death's handiwork, he had borne few grudges against the 
men of Cristobal's crew, and did not wish to see them in death.
     When he had gathered up all that could be found on the beach, he 
started towards the groves of mangos for breakfast. The fruit was sweet, 
creamy and succulent, and he ate his fill of them before gathering up a 
few to take to Akane.
     ~Good morning to you, sweet Ranma,~ Nerial greeted suddenly.
     Ranma cringed at the touch of her mind against his.
     "What do you want?" Ranma groused, trying to cover up his moment 
of fright and disgust.
     ~I see that you have survived your foolish attempt at omniscience,~ 
she chuckled.
     "That was your fault!" Ranma said angrily.
     ~Was it? I think you presume too much, my dear sweet Ranma. It was 
your decision to reach farther than your fragile mortal mind could hope 
to fathom. Ulmo of the Waters warned you about such folly.~
     Ranma grit his teeth.
     "Why don't you just go away. I don't want to talk to you. I don't 
need you, and I sure as hell don't want you around."
     ~I beg to differ,~ Nerial countered. ~You need me more than ever 
if you wish to leave this island alive.~
     "Is that a fact now?" Ranma said in a bitter voice, hoping against 
hope that it wasn't true. Dealing with Nerial made him sick at heart, 
for he could sense how cruel and treacherous she could be when it 
suited her.
     ~Quite so, I'm afraid.~
     "And how's that?" he ventured.
     ~You haven't utilized a thousandth of the power at your disposal, 
and nor will you without my instruction.~
     Ranma closed his eyes.
     "I don't want this power. You and the stupid ring you came with 
were a curse to me before I even put it on. I'd give it up in an 
instant if I could."
     ~Liar,~ Nerial retorted sharply. ~Akane begged you to give her the 
ring in order to save your life. You refused. Obviously you've chosen 
to subordinate your life to the power the ring grants you.~
     Ranma started to become angry.
     "That ain't the whole truth and you know it!" he growled. "If I 
gave her the ring then she'd be the one who dies, and then what would 
have been the point of even taking it from Neptune, or Ulmo of the 
Waters, or whatever, in the first place!?"
     Nerial chuckled softly, with just a hint of her usual mockery.
     ~You do care for that girl, don't you,~ she observed.
     "W-What are you talking about?" he demanded in a quivering voice. 
"I feel responsible for her. That's all."
     He felt her leave him then, that sudden silence within his skull 
that marked her departure. He shuddered to himself, for her last 
impression upon him was of a sudden mischief forming within her dark 
spirit, to be nursed until such time as it was ripe for springing upon 
him.
    


                         *       *       *



     Akane was awake when he returned to the camp. She was finishing a 
banana as he set down the three mangos he had brought her. She looked 
up with a friendly smile, one of the few she had ever given him. Its 
effect was immediate upon him, causing him to flush red and turn away 
to purposefully tend to the remains of the morning's fire.
     "So, ah, how'd ya sleep?" he asked, his back still towards her.
     "A little cold," she replied. "The fire this morning helped."
     He nodded to himself and smiled at his decision to take a chance 
with their firewood.
     "Ranma, about last night," she broached.
     "What about it?"
     "I'm sorry for acting so badly towards you."
     "I thought we went through this already," he said, turning around 
to face her once again. She had shifted her position on the large rock 
she sat upon, possibly as an invitation to sit next to her. He declined 
the offer, and sat down opposite her on the other side of the fire pit.
     "It's hard to understand you sometimes," she said quietly. "I 
think that's why we don't always get along so well, or why it's so easy 
for us to get mad at each other."
     "Don't worry about it," Ranma said with a wave of his hand. He 
didn't like the direction of conversation she was taking.
     She wasn't put off by his resistance.
     "I want to understand you, Ranma," she said sharply. "I want to 
get to know you." She gestured around them. "We might be here for a 
very long time, and I don't want to spend it with a total stranger."
     Ranma raised an eyebrow. "Even if I'm nothing but a 'filthy 
honorless vagabond'?"
     Akane rolled her eyes in embarassment.
     "I suppose that wasn't very fair of me, but yes, even if that's 
what you were. Social standing doesn't seem to make much difference 
here."
     He could see that she wasn't going to let up about the subject, 
as she hadn't given up her queries about the ring until he had told 
her what she wanted to know. He sighed heavily and looked at her feet.
     "There ain't much to tell about me," he began. "I guess you 
could say I was born a ronin... My mother died right after I was born, 
and my mother's family blamed my Pop for it."
     Akane'e eyes dimmed.
     "My mother died when I was very young as well," she admitted 
softly. "Sometimes I see her in dreams, but I can't really remember 
what she looks like."
     "I've never seen my mother," Ranma said gravely. "They took me 
from her as soon as I was born, because she was bleeding badly 
afterwards, and the priests were giving her the death rites."
     Akane stood up and walked over to him. She placed a reassuring 
hand on his shoulder as he fought back the stinging in his throat and 
the urge to start bawling. He was a man, and men didn't cry like this 
in front of women. He took a deep breath and plunged on.
     "My mother's family told Genma that he had brought their house 
low, and that he had to commit seppuku in order to atone for my 
mother's death. Instead of doing the honorable thing and killing 
himself, he ran away and took me with him." He looked down at his 
feet. "I've never known why Pop even told me the truth in the first 
place - it's never stopped him any other time."
     "Maybe he felt that you deserved to know at least that much about 
your mother," Akane remarked.
     Ranma shrugged absently. The recent memory of their drowning in 
the sea washed over him. His hope of at last seeing his mother's face 
in death was crushed by Nerial and her insatiable desire for revenge. 
It was enough to make him grit his teeth in anger, but it soon passed. 
Calm now, he gave Akane a thoughtful look.
     "Anyway, we've been wandering ronin ever since."
     Akane sat down next to him. Her proximity made him nervous.
     "What was it like, to be a ronin?"
     He blinked. For just a second her faint smile held him spellbound. 
Her question jerked him abruptly back into the here and now.
     "I dunno," he began. "I mean, that's like asking me what it's like 
to be alive. It's all I've ever known." He looked at her crosswise. 
"What do you care about ronin anyway?"
     Akane was taken aback by his question.
     "It's just that I've always wanted to be a samurai and--"
     She was interrupted by Ranma's sudden eruption of laughter.
     "What?!" she cried indignantly.
     "You, samurai?" he managed between guffaws. "Gimme a break!"
     Akane landed an elbow drop on the top of Ranma's head, knocking 
him senseless. He tumbled over the rock and staggered to his feet.
     "What the hell was that for?" he demanded when he was capable 
of forming complete sentences again.
     "Women can be samurai as well as men!" she shrieked.
     Ranma rubbed gingerly at the top of his head. "Yeah, well they 
might be able to become samurai, but not as well as men."
     "Says the man with the lump on his head!" she shot back, arms 
folded across her chest.
     "A lucky shot," Ranma returned. "That's all." He slipped into a 
fighting stance. "Let's see you try that again."
     Akane eyed him warily, and slowly advanced on him. He could tell 
by her movements that she wasn't completely ignorant of the unarmed 
fighting arts, but that she was a novice nonetheless.
     She lashed at him with a telegraphed kick that he sidestepped 
easily. A combination punch was avoided with leisurely grace, followed 
up with a desperate and deeply lunging side kick that he tumbled over 
her head to avoid. A quick front kick from Ranma to the back of her 
knees put her off balance and drove her to the sand with a cry.
     "You'd be dead right now if I wanted to kill you," he said to 
her. She looked up at him with angry eyes brimming with tears. 
"Anyways, you've got too much of a temper to become samurai, even if 
you knew what you were doing - which you don't." He rubbed his still 
sore head. "You might hit like a man, but if you don't connect it 
doesn't mean anything."
     She glared at him.
     "Maybe if you weren't such a jerk, I wouldn't get so angry."
     "That's the first thing I'd do if I knew about your weakness," 
Ranma replied. "Get you mad and then cut you down when you came in 
at me reckless and stupid." He brought his closed fists down across 
her as if he were wielding a katana in a killing blow to her chest.
"You'd be dead before you even knew it."
     Akane continued to look up at Ranma. "Alright, so I'm not the 
greatest fighter in the world. Teach me the way of the sword," she 
said quietly. "I know I can do it."
     "What?" Ranma spluttered. "Akane, I've been working towards this 
my whole *life.* I've done nothing but train to someday become samurai. 
What have *you* done most of your life? Arrange flowers? Play the koto? 
Practice the Tea Ceremony? There's no way you could do it!"
     Akane's expression shifted from shame back to anger.
     "You're just afraid that I'll be better than you some day."
     Ranma started to walk away. He was trying not to fight with this 
girl, but it seemed that a fight was all she really wanted. What was 
she trying to prove, anyway?
     "I don't see how it makes any difference right now one way or the 
other," he said over his shoulder. "Until we get off this island and 
make it back to Japan, neither of us will ever become samurai."
     Akane watched him go. She wanted to follow him, but she also had 
no idea what she would do when she caught up to him. She decided it was 
best if he went away for a little while. She could always try again 
when he returned to camp.



                          *       *       *



     Rain fell in the afternoon, forcing the two of them to huddle in 
the shelter of a hastily erected lean-to of palm fronds and fallen 
cyprus. Ranma, caught out in the rain, was a girl once more as she sat 
close to Akane for warmth. Akane watched the rain spatter against the 
rocks of their firepit, the coals having long since been drowned.
     "Hey, Akane," Ranma muttered.
     "What is it, Ranma?"
     "You wanna tell me about your life now? It looks like we've got 
all afternoon to sit here."
     "I don't know if I should," she replied. "After what you said to 
me this morning."
     "Aw, just drop it. I didn't mean half of what I said."
     "Maybe so," she replied soberly. "But it's the half you meant that 
hurts."
     Ranma shook his head slowly.
     "Besides," Akane continued. "You didn't finish your story yet."
     "That's because you decided to clobber me on the head," Ranma 
observed dryly.
     Akane stuck her tongue out at her. "Maybe if you hadn't laughed at 
me, that wouldn't have happened. Would you have laughed at Ukyo if she 
had said that?"
     Ranma shrugged.
     "It's different with Ucchan. She's been a fighter all her life, 
just like me."
     "Is that so necessary?"
     "It doesn't hurt. Come on, Akane, we're talking about a life 
dedicated to martial service." She flexed her fingers into a crackling 
fist. "You don't just pick it up in a year or two. You're born to it. 
You live your whole life for it. You die in fulfillment of it. That's 
why it's so hard for a peasant to become samurai: even if they had the 
opportunity, there's no time for them to learn and still fulfill their 
duties as farmers."
     Akane thought about this. Ranma really was a great fighter, and 
he had been training his entire life. Ukyo had said that Genma had 
sought out the best fighters in Japan to train his son in every 
technique one could imagine, and then craft them into a new school 
of martial arts, the Anything Goes School. 
     She had joked once that it sounded like a style learned in a 
brothel. Now she knew how appropriate the name was, considering that if 
Ukyo was correct, it borrowed from just about every discipline known. 
If they ever returned to Japan, the Anything Goes School might become 
an institution lasting centuries.
     All she herself had ever done was dream about becoming a samurai. 
The most training she had done was to watch the samurai practice and 
then try to imitate them in secret. How could she be so arrogant as to 
assume that she could be as good as Ranma in so short a time?
     "You're probably right," she sighed dejectedly.
     "Well there's a first," Ranma replied with a friendly grin.
     "What?"
     "Admitting that I'm right."
     Akane tapped her on the side of the head with her finger. "Don't 
let it go to your head, Ranma." She sat back against her then, and 
smiled in spite of herself.
     "You know, I could always teach you a little," Ranma said at 
length.
     Akane's eyes widened in surprise.
     "You really mean that?"
     "Sure. What else are we gonna do to pass the time?"
     Akane took in a deep breath and let it out as a soothing sigh. The 
gentle rain continued to patter around them as she thought about his 
offer.
     "I'd like that, Ranma."



                             Chapter Two



     "Can you see them?" Ukyo asked.
     Shampoo stretched her gaze into the early morning as far as it 
would take her.
     "I no see them," she said at length.
     Ukyo sank in exhaustion at the oars. Her hands were red and 
blistered from pulling at them for most of the previous night.
     "Thank the gods," she sighed. "We've finally lost them."
     "Yes, but does spatula girl know where *we* are?" Shampoo returned 
harshly.
     Ukyo looked around. Small reefs and other minor islands lay in all 
directions. Without the many dots of land to hide amongst, they would 
never have managed to elude the prince's men. Of course they had become 
completely lost in the process.
     "Not the faintest idea," she admitted to the purple-haired Amazon. 
     "Is bad," Shampoo said. "We not know which way leads back to ships. 
We could run into them by accident."
     Ukyo shook out her fall of chestnut colored hair and watched 
squadrons of silvery flying fish leap out of the water a dozen yards 
away from their boat.
     "We'll just have to take that chance," she said. "Now that we've 
got a boat, we can look for Ranma. He's bound to be on one of these 
islands."
     "If he still alive," Shampoo added softly.
     "He's still alive," Ukyo declared. "He's got to be."
     "Then we find," Shampoo agreed. She gestured for Ukyo to move, and 
took the oars from her. She began to row them towards one of the larger 
islands, one with trees and plants. One a man could survive on for at 
least a short while.
     "I don't know what we'll do when we find him," Ukyo said as the 
Amazon rowed. "But I think I'll be too happy to worry about it."
     Shampoo said nothing, but in her heart she glowed at the thought 
of seeing Ranma once more. He was strong, proud, and handsome. He had 
defeated her numerous times in combat, and while her pride stung her 
with each loss, she had come to accept that it was good in its own 
special way. 
     Her tribal law dictated that for his victories over her he must 
marry her. Ranma would sire many brave girls to defend the village from 
without, and many strong and hardy boys to tend to the fields, maintain 
the walls and canals, and mind the livestock to keep the village strong 
within. She would bear his children proudly, knowing that their brood 
would be greater in number and glory than any of her cousins'. 
     There had been a time when she had found the thought of lying down 
with him to be utterly repulsive. His Jusenkyo curse made him a woman, 
and while there were some in the village who sought children through 
men and love with their own sex, Shampoo was not one of them. Loving a 
woman was not something Shampoo could do, and she would not love anyone 
who was less than a true man.
     In the course of their imprisonment, Ranma had proven that he was 
a man through and through, even while trapped in the body of a beautiful 
woman. Though he was inexperienced and possibly even ignorant to the 
ways of bodily pleasure, Shampoo looked forward to many nights spent in 
his arms, to feel him deep inside, her body moving desperately atop him 
as he sowed his seed.
     She flushed at the thought, oblivious to Ukyo's repeated questions.
     "Shampoo!"
     She started at Ukyo's shout and snarled a reply.
     "What you want?"
     "I was trying to ask you a question, and you just sat there rowing 
away like you were in another world or something."
     Shampoo flushed again.
     "I thinking," she replied. "Spatula girl no disturb then."
     Ukyo gave her a questioning look.
     "Thinking huh? More like daydreaming, if you ask me."
     "Shampoo no ask spatula girl," she purred at her with narrowed 
eyes.
     "Fine with me," Ukyo shot back. "I was asking if you were hungry, 
but I guess you don't want anything to eat."
     "Shampoo hungry," she said absently.
     Ukyo huffed, and brought out some of their supply of stolen food, 
and they ate while the boat drifted with the tide towards the island.
     "There are a lot of little islands out here," she observed while 
Shampoo finished off the cooked rice. "It could take awhile to search 
them all."
     "We watch for smoke from fire," Shampoo replied. "Otherwise we 
search every island until find Ranma." Her violet eyes darkened. "If 
he not on any island, then it likely that he drown in storm with 
Akane."
     After they had finished eating, Shampoo rowed them up onto the 
beach. Ukyo pulled the boat well up onto the beach to keep the tide 
from taking it later. It was big island, and they planned to search as 
much of it as possible before they moved on.
     They made a circuit of the beach, taking several hours to do so. 
There was no sign of Ranma, only the occasional scrap of driftwood from 
the wreck of the _Deguello_. The afternoon sun was at its hottest when 
they returned to their starting point, and they called a halt to rest 
in the shade of a grove of beech trees.
     "This is going to take forever," Ukyo sighed.
     "Shampoo agree, but what else can we do?"
     Ukyo nibbled on a piece of jerky. "Are we just fooling ourselves?" 
she asked. "We both saw Ranma and Akane go under, and we never saw them 
come up."
     The Amazon tried to look confident, but in the face of Ukyo's 
question, her own doubts surfaced.
     "Shampoo not know," she admitted. Her finger traced a pattern in 
the sandy ground at her feet. "Shampoo only know that if we not search, 
then question will always haunt her."
     Ukyo frowned at this.
     "Why the sudden change of heart, Shampoo? I thought you didn't 
like Ranma."
     Shampoo flushed at this, but remained silent.
     "Well?" Ukyo pressed.
     "Shampoo no have to explain self to spatula girl," she said 
tersely.
     "I have a name, you know," Ukyo retorted. She had always hated the 
Amazon's nickname for her.
     "Very well. Shampoo no have to explain self to spatula girl Ukyo."
     Ukyo grimaced in irritation. Something was definitely wrong with 
Shampoo's attitude toward Ranma. It suddenly dawned on her what that 
something might be, and her heart clenched tight with jealousy. 
     "Don't tell me you're in love with him now," she muttered. "Forget 
it, Shampoo. Even if he was interested in you - which he's not - He's 
promised to ME."
     Shampoo raised an eyebrow at this.
     "Shampoo no see how. You and Ranma are brother and sister."
     "Not really," Ukyo said with a grin. "I'm his *adopted* sister. I 
was promised to Ranma when we were little. The dowry was offered by my 
father and accepted by Genma Saotome."
     "Ranma not know about this then," Shampoo observed. "He always act 
like you and he are brother and sister."
     Ukyo shrugged. "He didn't know until he overheard me telling 
Akane about it, right before the sea monster attacked us. He went down 
into the hold to kill his father because of it."
     "Ha," Shampoo snorted. "You expect Shampoo to believe story?"
     "You'd better, honey," Ukyo said with a grin. "'Cause it's the 
truth."
     Shampoo gave Ukyo an even look, trying to conceal her smugness. 
She knew the truth, and truth was that she was the one who had kissed 
Ranma, and had the pig-tailed martial artist been in his normal body, 
how much further that kiss could have taken them. **Ukyo can only pine 
for Ranma,** she thought, remembering the many longing looks she had 
seen Ukyo give her 'adopted brother' when he wasn't looking. **I will 
be the one to have him.**
     "Spatula girl Ukyo no have reason to worry," she told her. "We 
continue search now, but Shampoo not really interested in Ranma. We 
safer from prince if all together."
     Ukyo gave her a dubious look in response.
     **Somehow I don't believe that, Shampoo...**



                            Chapter Three



     Manuel Delgado stirred from his delirium as the longboat rocked 
beneath him. The panda growled in its sleep. Seaman Estremoz lay 
sprawled unconscious over the top of the panda. Father deGama was 
awake, his eyes wide, muttering prayers of thanks.
     **Surely the preacher is mad,** Delgado thought through a haze of 
pain and thirst.
     A shadow fell over him, mercifully blotting out the sun. When he 
looked up in hopeful expectation of storm clouds, he saw the great mass 
of a ship looming over him. Voices cried out in some heathen tongue 
unknown to him. Men shimmied down lengths of rope to splash in the 
sea next to them.
     His mind still in a daze, he watched them secure lines to the 
longboat. Next they began to haul it up out of the water from a boat 
davit hung over the side. When the longboat was resting on the deck 
of the ship, more men pulled them gently from their broken craft. Rags 
soaked with water were pushed against their lips, and each castaway 
sucked eagerly at the moisture they provided. 
     Delgado began to pass out again as they wrapped him in blankets 
and began carrying him and the others below. His last sight before his 
eyes went shut once again was that of a great red sail being unfurled. 
The serpentine form of a great golden dragon writhed upon the silk.



                          *       *       *



     Prince Hsinbyushin looked out across the gently rolling Andaman 
Sea and cursed. His quarry had disappeared during the night, and now 
it seemed that they had slipped him for good. Even with his fleet as 
dispersed as he dared in these waters close to the Dutch trade routes, 
he had no sign of them, and soon the ships would be regrouping.
     "Set a course north," he directed his pilot. "To the rendezvous 
point."
     The pilot nodded acknowledgment and consulted his rutter.
     "Ship sighted!" a lookout cried. "The _Flying Dragon_ bears to 
our starboard beam!"
     Hsinbyushin turned in the direction the lookout pointed. The 
distant speck of red sail _Flying Dragon_ had aloft confirmed it as 
one of his ships. 
     "They are signalling us," the lookout continued. "They have pulled 
several white men and a panda from the sea!"
     Hsinbyushin turned to his sunburned Portuguese aide de camp.
     "<So, Captain Martin, what think you?>"
     "<We should interrogate them, your highness. They're likely 
Dutch,>" the red faced man replied. "<They could even be part of an 
expedition seeking to learn more about your fleet.>"
     Hsinbyushin nodded. "<Yes. The Dutch are our greatest threat for 
the moment. I'll leave the interrogation to you, Captain.>"
     "<Of course, your highness.>"
     The Prince watched the _Flying Dragon_ slowly overtake his 
flagship. Thoughts of his two mysterious tigresses were put aside as 
he faced the possibility of Dutch interference in his waters. 



                         *       *       *



     Manuel Delgado awoke to the sound of a man addressing him in 
Dutch, a language with which he was familiar, if not fluent. Father 
deGama was with him in a small stateroom hung with hammocks, as was 
Seaman Estremoz. Genma was not present.
     "<My name is Delgado, First Mate of the _Deguello_, out of 
Oporto, and recently lost to a sea monster,>" he replied in response 
to the questions asked of him.
     The red faced man seemed to brighten at this.
     "You are Portuguese then?" he asked in their native tongue.
     "Of course I am," Delgado returned gruffly. He ached for more 
water, and reached for a bowl of it set nearby. He did not answer the 
man's next question until he had drained the bowl dry.
     "The panda is not to be harmed," he told the red faced man.
     "But why?" Captain Martin asked. "Surely there must be some 
explanation for bringing such a beast with you on a desperate voyage."
     Delgado laughed gruffly, his throat still raw and sore. He was 
quite curious on that point as well, but he remembered what Genma had 
told them about himself.
     "Bring the panda and some hot water, and all will be revealed,"
he replied. **Then we shall see how much of our journey was madness 
and how much was truth.**
     "Hot water, sir? Truly you are still delirious from your ordeal,"
Martin protested.
     "Hardly, good sir," Father deGama interjected. He pulled himself 
upright and staggered across the room to join Delgado. "Bring the hot 
water and the beast, and you shall understand."
     The Portuguese man gave the Jesuit a questioning look.
     "You doubt the word of a man of God?" Delgado asked archly.
     "No. No, of course not," Martin replied. He gestured to one of 
the crew and barked an order in the same heathen tongue Delgado had 
heard spoken upon their rescue.
     Genma was brought in, wearing chains. The beast looked ragged, 
almost near death. It was obvious that he had not received the same 
hospitality as had his human companions.
     One of the Prince's personal stewards brought in a kettle of 
steaming water. The Prince himself joined them a moment later, in the 
company of his bodyguards.
     "<I'm told this beast is required for the interrogation,>" he said 
to Captain Martin. "<Explain yourself.>"
     Martin offered an apologetic look to his prince.
     "<I am at as much a loss to this as you are, highness. This man, 
Delgado, and the Jesuit here, swear that all shall be explained when 
we bring the beast and hot water to them.>"
     Hsinbyushin gave them an imperious glower. His piercing sienna 
eyes narrowed at the prospect of possible subterfuge.
     "<Very well, but I want a dozen muskets bearing on this shaggy 
monstrosity before you do anything to it.>"
     "<It shall be done as you command, highness,>" Martin said with a 
bow. He summoned a company of musket armed troops to the room, making 
it very crowded indeed. The troops settled for stacking up in three 
ranks in the threshold of the door, their weapons pointed at the panda, 
who gave them a weary growl.
     Genma looked to Father deGama, and then to the hot water. The 
Jesuit bade him do what he needed to do. With a grunt, he hefted the 
kettle of water and poured it over his head.
     As the steam cleared, the chains fell to the ground with loud 
*clanks.* Genma Saotome, now human and naked, stepped out of his 
overlarge leg irons and manacles, and settled down on the nearest 
hammock to rest. Gasps of surprise and alarm filled the room, and 
one soldier came within a hair's breadth of shooting Genma, when 
Captain Martin batted the barrel of the musket away. Several of the 
men were Christians, and crossed themselves hastily at the sight.
     Prince Hsinbyushin contained his surprise. It would not become 
the Golden Dragon of Mandalay to behave in such a manner. Instead he 
watched impassively as Genma drank his fill of the water offered to 
the castaways, and then proceeded to suck on a piece of fruit. He did 
not seem to care about his nudity, though whether this was from a true 
lack of modesty, or from simple weakness and exhaustion after a 
torturous journey in an open boat, he was not certain.
     Manuel Delgado nodded slowly to himself. Genma had spoken the 
truth, for before him was the same man who had paid for his passage to 
Nagasaki in gold, if thinner and more wasted. If all Genma had said 
was true, and at the moment he had no reason not to believe that this 
was so, then he was the father of the red-haired pig-tailed wench, 
Ranma Saotome. The one who had Cristobal's ring.
     Two weeks earlier, Father deGama would not have been able to 
witness such a transformation without seeing the work of the devil in 
it and rushing to a spiritual attack. Now he was too tired to care, 
though his suspicions regarding Genma's demonic origins remained. He 
resolved to keep an eye upon the man who was sometimes a panda, to 
make sure that he did no evil.
     Prince Hsinbyushin looked the four castaways over, and then 
withdrew from the room.
     "<I'll expect to see them in my quarters for the evening meal,>"
he told Captain Martin. "<See that they are suitably attired to be in 
my presense.>"
     "<It shall be done, highness,>" Martin affirmed. When the prince 
was well clear of the room, he ordered all of the soldiers and servants 
out. Genma and Estremoz were fast asleep. Father deGama prayed in a 
corner. He turned his attention to Delgado.
     "First Mate of the _Deguello_, you say? I have heard of such a 
vessel. You had a Spanish charter, didn't you?"
     Delgado nodded.
     "It's true enough," he replied uneasily. For a man who seemed to 
serve a heathen potentate, there was a bit of hostility in his voice 
concerning Spain. It was possible that he had sided with the now 
victorious Patriots at one time, and his loyalties remained unchanged. 
"But that matters little now, as the ship was wrecked and burned some 
days ago, and the Captain himself perished in combat with the sea 
monster that brought us to ruin." His voice broke for a second. While 
he had little love for his dead captain, he had to acknowledge his 
courage. "It was the Captain who managed to defeat the monster."
     "Eduardo Cristobal, yes?" Martin asked.
     Delgado was impressed with the man's knowledge.
     "Correct," he confirmed. 
     "A shame. Eduardo's name was known to me. He seemed a good man. 
Surely he is with God now."
     Delgado nodded brusquely and cut to the heart of what suddenly 
concerned him about the man interviewing him.
     "You seem to know a great deal about us, sir."
     "Captain Vasco Domingo Martin," Martin supplied. "Yes, I do know 
of your ship and her captain, though it last passed through these 
waters almost a full year ago. To answer your question, I was in the 
colony of Goa when you put in for fresh water and supplies there."
     "And now you serve a heathen whelp of a boy like he was the Lord 
Jesus Christ Himself," Delgado said with a sardonic smile. He wanted to 
learn more about this prince, and it seemed the man before him had the 
answers. "Eh, Captain Martin?"
     Martin's red face flushed purple.
     "I wouldn't expect a cursed Loyalist like yourself to understand 
my motivations," he spluttered.
     Delgado took another drink of water before responding.
     "Those days are past," he said finally. "I see a new star rising 
on the horizon, and it is not the star of Spain. It is the star of the 
Dutch."
     Martin remained coldly silent. Delgado continued, knowing by his 
reaction that he had found common ground on which to stand with the red 
faced man.
     "We fought them in the Strait of Malacca during our voyage west," 
he went on. "It was a narrow victory, won as much with cunning as 
courage and good seamanship. Their influence in the Orient increases 
with each passing month, and I dread the day when their command is 
absolute." His throat was still cracked and sore, and he coughed. "Yet 
here I see a great squadron of ships commanded by a heathen prince and 
guided by my good countrymen in defiance of the Dutch. It is a peculiar 
if welcome sight."
     Martin's expression softened. Delgado knew he had the man in his 
clutches.
     "Hsinbyushin is the only thing standing in the way of Dutch 
control of the East Indies," he said in a conspiritorial whisper to 
Delgado. "We support him because of that. We earn time for Portugal to 
regain her preeminence and take back those colonies ripped from us, 
or else revenge ourselves on the Dutch while our English allies grow 
strong in their place."
     Delgado nodded in understanding. Martin was a true patriot, and 
like most of his kind, blind in their own self-destructive ways. He 
knew how to deal with patriots. That left the prince, the engima, and 
possibly the key to achieving his ends.
     "And what of your new master? Surely he nurses his own ambitions?"
     Martin gave him a dismissive wave of his hand.
     "He thinks to carve an empire for himself, but he is a foolish 
boy, and drunk on his wealth and our praise. When he sees a lonely 
European ship in these waters, he believes we are few in number, if 
only slightly better armed. He does not know that even the poorest of 
the sea-faring countries of Europe can muster a squadron as large as 
his own and far better armed, and that the mightiest can easily raise 
a hundred ships if it so chose to, and crush him."
     Martin leaned in close to Delgado.
     "To show you how foolish and prideful this boy is, know that even 
as we pulled you and your companions from the sea, we were engaged in a 
search for two women who escaped him in the night. Fierce fighters they 
were, and being singularly beautiful in the way all these Oriental 
women are, Hsinbyushin became enamored of them."
     Delgado managed to keep a straight face in spite of his sudden 
joy.
     "Tell me of these women, Captain Martin. We carried as cargo four 
fierce and lovely creatures taken from China and Japan to be sold as 
concubines in Panama. It is possible they have survived the wreck of 
the ship."
     Captain Martin nodded in understanding.
     "You wish to recoup your losses."
     Delgado smiled thinly.
     "I'd be willing to part with them for a reasonable sum."
     Martin offered a slow shrug.
     "I'm certain the prince would be quite generous. The first one 
had long brown hair tied with a white ribbon," Martin replied. "We 
captured her after a struggle that left the lieutenant of our guard 
unable to move for a full day. The second came to her rescue in the 
night. She had long purple hair, and was a match for four men in 
combat."
     "Shampoo," Delgado muttered. "The other one must be Ukyo." He 
looked hopefully to Martin. "Did you perhaps see a third girl, with 
short red hair wound into a pig-tail?"
     Martin shook his head.
     "We did not. Those two alone we saw, and gave chase into the night.
We lost them in the darkness amid the many reefs and small islands that 
dot this sea. It is possible that they may have had another in their 
company, and doubled back to rejoin her at some time, but I can only 
speak of such things as I know for certain. I saw no red-haired girl."
     Delgado nodded slowly. It was the best, if indirect, proof he had 
yet of Ranma's survival. If Shampoo and Ukyo could survive the wreck 
and the storm, then certainly Ranma, who now wore Cristobal's ring!
     A servant brought them a bottle of wine, from which Delgado poured 
them both full cups. He handed one to Martin, and then raised his own 
in toast.
     "To Prince Hsinbyushin," he began. "May he become the scourge of 
the Dutch East India Company!"
     Martin smiled at this.
     "And to our mother Portugal, may she reclaim what was once hers!"
     "To Portugal!" Delgado echoed approvingly.
     They both drank deeply.



                          *       *       *



     Prince Hsinbyushin was handsomely attired in his royal silks. He 
was dripping gold, rubies, and sapphires, and was attended by his three 
concubines as well as numerous servants. Delgado had never seen a man 
so pampered aboard a ship at sea, nor had he even heard of such pomp 
for a European lord. One of the cursed Ottoman sultans perhaps, but 
never from a self-respecting Christian.
     Father deGama was still ill from their long exposure to the 
elements, and so did not attend the supper. Seaman Estremoz, upon being 
revealed to be nothing more than a common sailor, also did not attend. 
The prince did not entirely trust Genma Saotome, and so that left only 
Delgado himself. This was precisely how he preferred matters.
     Captain Martin was seated close to the prince, which did not 
surprise Delgado now that he understood their relationship. Hsinbyushin 
was being led very carefully by the nose down a path that would break 
the Dutch hold over the East Indies trade, even if it cost him his life 
and his fortune. That didn't mean that the boy didn't have his uses, 
however, and Manuel Delgado prided himself on being a man who could 
take advantage of a situation and turn it to his own ends.
     For one thing, the simpering way in which Martin took orders and 
gave counsel, while cunning in its own way by making the captain seem 
unthreatening, also did nothing if not feed Hsinbyushin's ego. This was 
the sycophant's most potent weapon, and Martin was an obvious master at 
his surreptitious trade. Delgado could see how the boy, after being fed 
so much ego, could easily become so full of himself as to feel that he 
no longer needed a man like Martin around.
     The trick was how to insert himself into Hsinbyushin's confidence 
without threatening the boy's ego or Martin's perception of control 
over him. He was certain that Martin would not allow a private 
discussion with the prince, and he wasn't in a position to murder the 
man in order to get him out of the way. These things required time, 
but he reminded himself that he had very little to spare. If Ranma was 
with the other girls then she had to be within only two or three days 
of sailing distance, at the most, and probably still somewhere along 
the chain of islands that made up the Northern Andamans.
     To Delgado's surprise, Hsinbyushin spoke quite passable Portuguese.
     "Tell us, Mister Delgado, of your unfortunate struggle with the 
sea serpent," the prince requested of him in a tone of voice that 
suggested very little request.
     "It struck without warning," Delgado began. "Muskets had no effect 
upon it."
     Hsinbyushin smiled slightly as the others muttered with concern.
     "You did have cannon to use, did you not?"
     Delgado nodded slowly.
     "We did, your highness. Only four, I'm afraid, and they were put 
out of commission before we had the chance to fire them at the thing."
     "However did you survive then? No cannon, your muskets useless. 
I'm surprised that it did not eat you all."
     Delgado began to sweat. How much should he tell this man? How much 
would he believe?
     "I would like to think that it was by divine grace that we were 
saved," he answered. It was the truth and yet told little of it.
     Hsinbyushin smiled again. For a boy of nineteen, Delgado observed, 
he had remarkably intelligent eyes. He began to wonder just how tight a 
hold Martin had over him.
     "I'm told by Captain Martin that your own captain died in battle 
with the thing. That he managed to defeat it. Is this the divine grace 
you speak of?" 
     "Eduardo Cristobal was a man of many sins," Delgado said at length. 
"But he was also a man of some virtue. I would prefer to think that in 
saving us from the sea monster, he secured his own salvation."
     Hsinbyushin sipped from a cup of wine.
     "Your religion never ceases to amuse me," he said with a touch of 
condescension. "Where there are many gods you see only one."
     **Perhaps you and the good Father deGama should continue this 
conversation,** Delgado thought, suddenly wishing that the Jesuit was 
present. It was time to turn the topic to something along more useful 
avenues.
     "Captain Martin spoke to you of other things, did he not?" he 
asked in response.
     Martin gave him a look of warning.
     "He did," Hsinbyushin confirmed. "He told me that you had a claim 
to the maidens I seek."
     Delagdo judged from the prince's tone that he had best tread 
carefully.
     "If they are the same girls, then yes, that is true," he said. He 
decided to take a chance. "Would it mean anything to you if I said that 
I can lead you to them?"
     Martin gave him a look like he was mad. The others who could speak 
Portuguese muttered furiously at his claim. Hsinbyushin on the other 
hand, looked intrigued.
     "It would," the prince couched. "Provided that you spoke the 
truth."
     Delgado decided to lay it all on the line. If he was correct in 
his estimation of the prince, then the boy would certainly see that he 
was telling the truth, or at least enough of it to trust him. The 
details weren't all that important.
     "I have been visited in my dreams by the spirit of a woman who 
speaks of these maidens. She has been wronged by one of them, and 
wishes redress. To this end she has been appearing to me with hints 
of their whereabouts."
     "<Your highness...>" Martin protested in the prince's tongue.
     Hsinbyushin waved him off. There was a fire kindled in his eyes, 
and Delgado knew at once that his gamble had paid off.
     "What is your price, Mister Delgado?" he asked coolly.
     "The red-haired one," he said at once. "I renounce all claim to 
the others if you will lend your assistance in capturing the red-haired 
one and turn her over to me."
     "Done!" Hsinbyushin said with a clap of his hands. "A bargain well 
struck."
     **Well struck indeed,** Delgado thought happily. He had his means, 
now all he had to do was round them up.
     "Where, pray tell, are they then?" Captain Martin pressed. "Surely 
you can tell us that much, if a spirit truly guides you."
     **Pig!** Delgado thought blackly, all mirth abruptly banished. 
**A knife needs to find its way into your back, and soon. As soon as my 
counsel with the prince supercedes your own.**
     "Steer south," he said automatically. He had been pondering the 
possible location of Ranma since his rescue, and concluded that he could 
only be among the Northern Andamans. "They are among the islands we 
have abandoned."
     "<Make it so!> Hsinbyushin ordered Martin. The red-faced man nodded 
brusquely and left the chamber to carry out his orders. When he had gone, 
Delgado lifted his cup in salute to the prince, and drank deeply.



                            Chapter Four



     ~Arise, Ranma Saotome!~ Nerial cried in his mind.
     Ranma muttered something in his sleep, and rolled over. Akane 
huddled close for warmth, disturbed as well by something unseen and 
unheard. The night sky seemed to hang above them with a kind of 
perilous weight, as if they were about to be crushed out of existence.
     ~We are in great peril!~ the mermaid queen pressed. ~Arise!~
     "...huh...?" he managed. "...What is it?"
     ~Anfaulag comes,~ she told him.
     "Who?" he asked, rising to his feet and spinning in a slow circle 
to take in the entire clearing that served as their campsite. There was 
nothing to see except the heavy sky. The monkeys were silent, as were 
the insects and the nocturnal birds. Their silence added to the feeling 
of inertia and dread in the air.
     ~Anfaulag. The Jaws of Thirst he is sometimes called.~
     Images of a gaping wet maw came to mind. Ranma decided that he 
didn't like the looks of it one bit.
     "Terrific."
     ~You have faced him before,~ she continued.
     Ranma couldn't imagine where. This Anfaulag character seemed like 
the kind of guy he'd remember.
     "I don't get it," he muttered. Akane continued her troubled slumber 
at his feet.
     ~The monster that destroyed your ship,~ she supplied. ~He was not 
slain by Cristobal's thunderstroke, as I had prayed. He comes now for 
the ring.~
     Ranma's blood ran cold.
     "The s-sea monster?" he whispered. He could feel its jaws snapping 
shut at his back again. The smell of its fetid breath filled his nose, 
gaggingly foul from the time it had nearly swallowed him whole.
     ~The same.~
     "What's he want the ring for?" Ranma demanded in a whisper. He 
tried pulling the Tears of the Siren from his finger, to no avail.
     ~He was once a lover of mine,~ Nerial explained.
     Ranma boggled.
     "You and that thing were... It ain't possible!"
     ~He was a merman at one time. I took him as a lover in order to 
make Neptune jealous. When we were discovered, Neptune cursed him to 
become a sea serpent, and banished him from his presence forever. I 
never really loved him, but he has never stopped desiring me. He means 
to take the ring that he might possess me forever.~
     "Sounds good to me," Ranma chirped. "I sure won't miss you."
     ~Idiot!~ Nerial rebuked. ~You cannot remove the ring on your own! 
The only way it will come from your living finger is for you to allow a 
*man* to remove it himself.~
     "So?"
     ~Anfaulag has no hands, if you recall. The only way he can possess 
the ring is to swallow you whole and wait for you to die inside his 
belly.~
     Ranma blinked twice at the thought.
     "Oh."
     ~There isn't much time,~ she continued. ~I can sense his proximity. 
You must climb the hill at once and destroy him.~
     "What? You said he was a sea serpent. We're on dry land. He can't 
touch us where we are."
     ~Don't be such a fool, Ranma! Do you really believe such a being 
as has lived thousands of years isn't without magical resources? Can 
you not feel the heaviness of the air? His spells are already at work! 
You must ascend to the highest point of this island at once, and summon 
a thunderstroke.~
     Ranma looked to the beach and tried to judge how far this Anfaulag 
could reach from the water. He thought they were far enough, but then 
again, he knew he hadn't seen the entire length of the monster, just 
how much of it had come out of the water when it destroyed the ship.
     "Why should I trust you? You almost got me killed the last time 
I listened to you."
     ~You have no choice!~ she thundered in his mind.
     "Yeah I do," he replied sternly. "And I ain't doing a thing to 
help you."
     ~By helping me, you are helping yourself,~ she protested. ~And 
you are helping Akane!~
     Ranma looked down at his feet where Akane turned restlessly in the 
throes of a nightmare.
     ~Do as I say,~ Nerial cried, more a plea than a command.
     Ranma grit his teeth and picked Akane up into his arms. He started 
up the slope of the hill as fast as he dared in the darkness. Clouds had 
blown up from the north, obscuring the moon and the stars, and added to 
the terrible weight that seemed to hang over him.
     Akane remained asleep as he carried her to the very top of the 
hill. Exposed on the summit, the wind bit harsh and cold against the 
bare flesh of his face and chest. Far out to sea he spied a luminous 
glow in the water, approaching the island at a speed far too rapid for 
his taste.
     ~Now, Ranma. You must concentrate on the clouds. Anfaulag has 
foolishly given us the means to destroy him. You must draw the lightning 
out of the clouds, and you must will it to strike him when he appears.~
     Ranma set Akane down on the grass and huddled over her to shelter 
her from the wind.
     ~What are you doing?!~ Nerial demanded.
     "I ain't your tool," he said bitterly. He was frightened, there 
was no doubt of that, but his anger at Nerial was greater than his fear 
of the unknown. He knew she would deceive him to further her own ends, 
and so he knew that he couldn't trust a word she had said. "I ain't 
gonna do whatever you say, whenever you say it, so get used to it! 
Akane's safe up here, so I'm gonna sit up here and wait. Then we'll 
see how powerful this Anfaulag really is."
     ~Ranma! This is no simple game of wills to be played! This is your 
very life, your very soul, and that of Akane's, at risk!~
     Ranma took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
     "I ain't gonna do it. And now I know that you can't make me."
     ~Fool! Prideful stubborn fool!~
     Akane, who was now awake, tried to sit up, only to find Ranma 
hunched over her.
     "Ranma? What do you think you're doing?"
     "No time to explain."
     Akane looked around, eyes wide at the realization that they were 
at the top of the hill.
     "Who are you talking to?" she asked, her voice trembling with 
fear.
     "No time for that either," Ranma replied.
     "What's going on?"
     Ranma looked out to the water, where the luminous glow of Anfaulag 
cruised close to the beach.
     "The sea monster is out there," he said over the wind. "We're up 
here, where he can't get us."
     ~You're a fool, Ranma. Kill him while you can!~
     "It's still alive?" Akane cried.
     "Yeah, it's still alive!"
     "How do you know that? Did you see it?"
     Ranma didn't answer her, instead watching the luminous spot grow 
brighter. The water parted in a rush of foam. From the center of the 
spray came a huge serpentine form, glistening with wetness, its eyes 
were distinct black wells of darkness that stood out against the night.
     Its roar was anguish, longing, and rage. Ranma watched it tower 
fifty feet out of the water, his own body frozen at the sight of it. 
This was nothing he could face on his own, even if he wanted to use 
the ring.
     "Oh gods..." Akane whispered.
     ~RANMA! KILL HIM NOW!~ Nerial screamed inside his head. The ring 
ached on his finger.
     Ranma stood transfixed by the sight of Anfaulag.
     "You gotta be kidding me," he said. It was too big. Cristobal had 
tried, and the attempt had killed him. "I can't, there's just no way!"
     Akane turned to Ranma, her face wracked with terror and confusion.
     "You can't what, Ranma?"


     Anfaulag was livid. Nerial's trail ended here. He had tracked the 
scent of her tears through miles of ocean, and the scent ended with 
this pathetic speck of wave-tossed volcanic rock.
     The mortal who had taken her for himself had to be on the island. 
     Where was he?
     Neptune's curse knew no end to his torment. As a merman he could 
have taken the form of a human and walked ashore to claim what was his. 
With this monstrous body he was anchored to the sea.
     He would have to wait until the ring came to him, until the man 
came out into the water. Whoever it was would oblige him sooner or 
later. Anfaulag had lived for thousands of years; he could afford to 
hold out just a little longer.
     The low and piercing moan of a whale echoed distantly through the 
waters, giving him sudden pause. Its call was taken up by others. They 
had found him again.
     Neptune was surely coming. He would also have what he saw as his. 
Anfaulag knew that the sea god would keep him from her, even if it 
meant seeing her pass into the hands of mortal after mortal, down 
through centuries of bloodshed and sorrow. Better their unworthy hands 
than to see her reunited with her lover.
     His soul-black eyes trembled with rage, and he cursed the god who 
had imprisoned him in this monstrous form for the hundred thousandth 
time. Thousands of years as a serpent, pursued by Neptune's court for 
years upon years to keep him from Nerial, to keep him from the love 
that they had. A love that Neptune would never know with her. Hadn't 
she slain herself to escape him?
     He slipped back beneath the waves, weaving the spell of shadows 
about his monstrous body, concealing his scent and the sound of his 
passing through the waters. He must first escape the hunters if he 
wished to continue his own hunt. The endurance of centuries had taught 
him patience, and he would not be put off from his reunion.


     Ranma watched the sea monster disappear beneath the waters. The 
sky seemed to lighten with his passing, the oppressive air lifted from 
his shoulders, and the wind died away to a breeze. For just a moment 
he thought he saw other lights shining in the water near the horizon, 
but these twinkled and faded from sight.
     The mournful cry of a gull carried over the sky. Soon the chirping 
of insects and the night howls of monkeys followed. It was over, the 
monster was gone, at least for now.
     Akane was the first to speak.
     "Is it still out there?"
     Ranma looked out across the black waters of the sea.
     "Yeah," he said quietly. "Yeah it's still out there. Somewhere."
     He looked down to Akane, who hunched on all fours while looking 
out for the return of the sea monster.
     "I don't think he'll bother us again tonight," he said to her.
     "How can you be so sure of that?"
     Ranma didn't have an answer for her. All he had to go on was a 
feeling, and at the moment he felt like it was gone. Why, he did not 
know, but its passing proved his suspicions about Nerial's word. 
     She had meant to use him as her instrument of murder -to 
eliminate an old lover who was past his usefulness. Their lives were 
in no immediate danger, in spite of her claims. This realization 
reinforced his desire to have nothing to do with her, and to make 
good on his promise to Neptune.
     ~I never imagined that you would be so cowardly,~ Nerial said. 
~You will regret not doing away with him when you had the opportunity. 
Anfaulag will return, and you will never have such an advantage over 
him again, mark me well.~
     Her words stung him, and he winced in anger and shame.
     **I ain't gonna do your dirty work,** he thought bitterly.
     The severing of the link between them snapped like a musket shot 
within his head. She was gone once again, and he could almost taste 
her cold wrath trailing behind her as she left.
     **I think I just started a war,** he reflected with some 
apprehension.
     "Are you going to answer my question or what?" Akane demanded.
     "Huh? Oh. Sorry, Akane. I'm not sure why it's gone, just that it 
is. You just have to trust me on that."
     She gave him a doubtful look.
     "I don't know about that. I think I'll feel better if we move our 
camp to higher ground."



                          *       *       *



     ~Manuel, my love...~
     Delgado turned fitfully in his sleep. She had returned to him. He 
noted that her phantasmal beauty was marred by a seething fury within 
her eyes. Something was wrong.
     **What is it?**
     ~You must hurry,~ she told him. ~I am dying.~
     **Dying? How is this possible?**
     ~You must take the ring from Ranma Saotome,~ she went on. ~While 
he keeps the ring, my life is forfeit. Let nothing stop you from this 
quest.~
     Her eyes burned with hatred.
     ~Absolutely nothing, Manuel, my love.~
     **It shall be done,** he thought. **Ranma Saotome shall die by my 
hand.**
     ~I shall await you,~ Nerial said soothingly, all traces of rage 
gone in an instant. ~Continue sailing south. Ranma awaits you on the 
island whose verdant hilltop rises high above the sea.~



                         END OF PART EIGHT



Author's Notes:

1. Just for the record, I had plotted out Ranma and Akane's marooning 
on the island long before the Lara Bartram/Mike Loader fanfiction 
"Bliss" came out. I just didn't get around to writing it as soon as I 
would have liked. That also isn't to say I haven't been affected in 
some way by their work, however...

2. We are now at the halfway point of this story. My thanks to everyone 
who has held on this far. I hope the buildup hasn't been too excessive, 
because we do still have a ways to go (both geographically and in the 
development of the storyline) until the final stage is set.

Free The Nukes!