Bonemaster In charge of the upkeep of the ship’s hull and spines.
Bonewright Specialist crew member who answers to the bonemaster.
Bowsell Head of a gallowbow team. A bowsell of the deck is in charge of all the gallowbows on each deck of a boneship.
Courser Ship’s navigator and holder of the charts. Although all officers are expected to be able to navigate, the sect of coursers are specialists. They are believed to be able to dream the coming weather and hear the songs of the storms.
Deckholder Third officer, generally known as the d’older. Larger ships may have up to four deckholders, who are known as the first d’older (most senior), the second d’older, and so on.
Deckkeeper Second to the shipwife and speaks with their authority. Larger ships may have up to three deckkeepers, who are traditionally known as the d’keeper (most senior), the keepsall and the decksall.
Deckchild A crew member who has proved themselves capable of all the minor tasks required in the running of a boneship.
Deckchilder A generic term for the entire crew of a ship below the rank of whoever is using it.
Deckmother In charge of discipline aboard a boneship. A traditionally unpopular rank.
Gullaime Also called windtalker and weathermage. An avian race of magicians able to control the winds and as such invaluable to the running of a boneship.
Hagshand The ship’s surgeon, who works in the hagbower. Few who go under the knife of the hagshand survive.
Hatkeep Steward to the shipwife. A post often given to a deckchild who has proved particularly loyal or clever.
Kept The chosen men of the Bern.
Oarturner In charge of steering the ship.
Purseholder In charge of the ship’s funds, weapons and food supplies.
Seakeep A seasoned deckchild with thorough knowledge of a boneship and how it should be run. The seakeep is expected to run the ship if there are no officers on deck and often acts as a go-between should the crew wish to communicate something to the shipwife.
Shipmother Commander of the fleet. There are five ship-mothers. The ruler of the Hundred Isles is the most senior and has four deputies. These are named for the Northstorm, the Eaststorm, the Southstorm and the Weststorm. Shipmother of the North, Shipmother of the East, etc.
Shipwife Master and commander of a ship. The shipwife’s word is law aboard their ship. To disobey is punishable by anything up to being sent to a black ship or death, depending on the shipwife’s whim.
Stonebound The lowest rank on a ship. Used as an insult or as a quick way of denoting that someone does not really understand how the ship works or is not fleet.
Topboy The lookouts posted at the top of a ship’s spines.
Wingmaster In charge of the wings and rigging of a bone-ship.
Wingwright Specialist crew member who answers to the wingmaster.
Afterword and Acknowledgements
I get lost in the sea. It’s one of the things that I find endlessly fascinating, hypnotic even. Never still, always changing, so many colours and shapes. It’s also a huge part of our civilisation: so much of history and pre-history begins with the sea. So much of history and pre-history is lost beneath it.
I think fantasy is often about journeys, beginnings and ends and new starts, and here we are, you and I, at the end of a new start. I hope you’ve enjoyed your time with Joron, Meas and her crew. I probably, first of all, owe an apology to anyone who understands the tremendously complicated business of sailing a tall ship. One of my great loves is the literature of the sea, from Moby Dick through C. S. Forester to Patrick O’Brian, but on writing The Bone Ships it quickly became obvious that I had a choice between meeting a deadline and fully understanding ships (or understanding them at all – they are fiendishly complicated). So if you’ve read this and got annoyed with how very fast and loose I have played with sailing and navigation, mea culpa, it got sacrificed in pursuit of the story, but I hope my deep and abiding love of the sea comes through.
Books are never created in a vacuum and I wouldn’t be doing this without my lovely agent, Ed Wilson, and I wouldn’t be making much sense without my brilliant editor, Jenni Hill, who does her best to nudge me onto the right course, even when I might not want to be nudged. And of course, you probably wouldn’t be reading this without my excellent publicist Nazia who does a great job of getting what I do out there and generally harassing me on the internet. Orbit and everyone there have been brilliant to write with and I am hugely glad I get to do it all over again with these books.
And of course, my family are massively important. Without them around me, the distraction provided by my son, support of my wife and maybe even the occasional bites from the cat, I doubt I would be doing this.
I also owe a debt of thanks to Paul Walsh who helped me out with distances, travel and my early maps; any errors (ha, any! Should say all) are my own. And my early version readers for this book, Dr Richard Clegg, Fiona Pollard, Matt Broom and Mike Everest Evans, your mixture of cheerleading and nit-picking helps me more than you will ever know. There’s also a whole host of book bloggers, reviewers and BookTubers who have supported the Wounded Kingdom books, and I can’t name you all for fear of forgetting someone (because we all know I would) but each and every one of you know who you are and that you have my thanks. Then there’s the various people running cons, events and podcasts who have been kind enough to have me along to talk nonsense, as well as Starburst! and SFX magazine who have been hugely supportive. Also Phil Lunt, Helen Armfield and everyone else at the British Fantasy Society and the wonderful booksellers at Waterstones. You are all wonderful people and you all make me very happy.
Oh, and then there’s authors. Often terrible people such as Jason Arnopp (author Xtra), or Scott K. Andrewerson (I’ll get it right one day, Scott), Gavin Smith and his big green coat, Tade (don’t call me Tayd) Thompson, Nicholas, the great award stealer, Eames and Sir Edward Cox who all do their best to stop me working. But largely wonderful people like Adrian Tchaikovsky, Anna Stephens, Pete Mclean, Adrian Selby, Mark Stay, Catriona Ward, James Barclay, Jeanette Ng, Gemma Todd, David Hutchinson, Ed McDonald, Jenn Williams, Tasha Suri (and Carly), Stephen Aryan, Robin Hobb (and family), Mike Brooks, Tim Pratt, Justina Robson, Gareth Hanrahan, Lucy Hounsom, Stark Holborn, Stephen Erickson, Kim Stanley Robinson, Micah Yongo, Bradley Beaulieu and oh my I have met so many and you have all been so forebearing and my memory is so very bad. To the person(s) reading this and thinking, “Oh, but you forgot me!” nudge me and I’ll put you in the next one.
I absolutely must mention Tom Parker, whose drawings have helped shape this book and its world (as well as the Wounded Kingdom before it) and they grace the chapter headings (more in the next books) and his wonderful map is in the front. As well as Hannah Wood who designed the beautiful cover that no doubt caught your eye.
Lastly, music. I always write with music and apart from my mainstays (the Afghan Whigs, Fields of the Nephilim and 16 Horsepower/Wovenhand) I’ve been listening to a lot of Cult of Luna and Myrkur while writing this as it seemed to match the mood. Editing has mostly been accompanied by The Last Internationale.
And, of course, I must thank you. For reading what I write, telling people about it, leaving reviews. All these things help us keep doing what we do. I hope you’ve enjoyed Joron’s journey of discovery and that you’ll follow him, Meas, the gullaime, Tide Child and his crew for the rest of their voyages and further exploration of the world of the Scattered Archipelago.