Chapter 28
As the first dart of sunlight shot over the horizon, catching the billowing striped sail, the crew of the Petrel began to stir. Darin watched as they sat up in their sleeping bags one by one, gazing in astonishment at the group on the foredeck: the two young knights, swords drawn, and an unknown redheaded lad sitting between them on the edge of the deck with a serviceable-looking longbow across his knee, arrow nocked and ready against the string.
When he was satisfied the last sailor was awake, Darin gave a nod to Broderic, who held up his sword. The red rays of the early sun flashed fire on the dazzling steel blade.
“Men,” said Broderic in a strong, clear voice that could be heard easily the length of the ship, “there are traitors to the king on board!”
A murmur went around the crew. The captain scowled at his two mates, who were looking startled, while the other sailors looked questioningly at one another.
“My young friend here,” continued Broderic, pointing at Brynn, “overheard an interesting conversation last night. Your captain and his mates, planning to murder my companion and me for the sake of the gold we are carrying—even though they know we are bound on important business for the king.”
“It’s true what he says about being the king’s men, lads,” said the sailor at the steering oar. “They showed me the royal seal they’re carrying, while you were all still asleep. Why didn’t the captain tell us about that, eh?”
“S-sir!” stuttered one of the sailors. “You c-can’t imagine any of us would have gone along with such a p-plan. We would never turn against the King’s knights, w-would we, lads?”
Most of the men vociferated their agreement; the two mates were still looking uneasy.
“The boy must have heard wrong,” said the captain.
“No,” Bryn piped up. “I was only a few feet away from you, under this deck. I heard every word.”
“We are willing to think the best about the rest of you,” Darin said. “But captain, no more lies. We know what you and your mates were planning and today you would have done your best to persuade the others.” He looked round the attentive faces of the crew. “The question is,” he continued, “what’s to be done? We cannot afford to turn back, our mission is of vital importance to the realm.” He pointed to the steersman on the after-deck. “Garth over there tells us the ship that left harbour a while before us was bound for the same destination as we are. The three knights on board are enemies of the King so we cannot afford to be too far behind them.”
Darin turned and addressed the captain. “Garth also told us that you, despite your somewhat doubtful reputation, are the best sea-captain in the business. We need you and the whole crew on our side if this mission is to succeed. If it’s our gold you’re after, well, you shall have it, all of it. Get us back home with our quest accomplished and every man on board will be given more than he would get for twenty voyages. And King Arthur shall hear nothing about your intended treachery. So how say you, captain? Are you with us?”
The captain gave a twisted smile. “Very well, young Sir,” he replied. “But you must forgive a poor man for being tempted by the sight of so much gold.”
“Good,” said Broderic. “But we cannot afford to trust anybody. From now on, Brynn here, Sir Darin and I will take it in turns to sleep. Two of us will be watching you constantly for the rest of the voyage, one standing with drawn sword by the steersman over yonder, the other on the foredeck here with the longbow.”
Darin stepped down from the deck and went up to the captain. “Give me your knife,” he commanded, pointing to the ugly dagger the seaman wore in his belt. “You shall have it back.” He took the knife, then turned and stuck it firmly into the mast. “Show them, Brynn,” he said quietly.
Eagerly, Brynn stood and raised his bow. Drawing the string back to his chin, he squinted along the arrow at the mark. Darin watched, willing him to aim low—the mast was much closer than the target used for practice would be. Brynn let fly the shaft; with a fierce hiss, it sped from his bow and struck the mast. The impact reverberated all through the timbers of the ship. One or two of the sailors recoiled in shock; the power of the bow at close range had driven the steel arrowhead so deep into the hard wood that it was no longer visible. Only the tiniest fraction of an inch separated the arrow from the blade of the captain’s dagger.
Darin turned to the crew. “Sir Broderic and I taught him to do that. You may be sure we both can easily match that shot over a range six times the length of this ship.”
“So,” proclaimed Broderic, “that’s how it’s going to be. Brynn, give the bow to Darin and get some sleep. The rest of you, man your stations.”
As the days and nights passed, the tension on board slackened and the members of the crew applied themselves willingly to their tasks, baling out the hold, reefing the sail to suit the wind or taking their shifts at the steering-oar. The three companions from Camelot soon adjusted to their rota, staying vigilant and taking it in turn to sleep and take care of their daily needs just as the seamen did.
The sea remained calm, while a steady breeze from the north filled the sail each day; during the occasional lull, the captain would steer while the other six sailors plied their oars. They made one stop for supplies, putting in at a port on the coast they had been following south. Broderic and Garth, the oldest of the hired seamen and the one the friends trusted the most, went ashore while Darin and Brynn maintained their watch over the rest of the crew.
On the twentieth day after they had first set sail on their mission, Darin was standing beside the captain by the steering-oar. Almost three weeks of sun and salt air had tanned his face and bleached his yellow hair until it gleamed like silver in the hot southern sun. He felt strong and alert.
The captain pointed to the larboard. “Look. We are nearly there.”
Darin could see they were reaching the end of the coastline, which had been leading them in a southeasterly direction for some time. The captain was now turning the prow even more to the east to round the land mass they had been sailing down for so long. He pointed to the other side of the ship.
“And there lies Sultan al-Din’s kingdom.”
To the south, Darin now saw another coastline separated from the land on his left by only a few miles of water. It was towards these straits that the ship was now racing at a steady clip.
“Well done, captain,” he said. “You have fulfilled the first half of your contract.”
The seaman, however, seemed uneasy. His eyes darted frequently and, to Darin’s mind, furtively around the sea and along the southern shore and he had his lower lip between his teeth.
“What’s the matter, man?” Darin asked.
The captain was silent for a while. He gazed at his interrogator with troubled eyes.
“Well Sir,” he said eventually, “to be frank, my ship and I are not exactly unknown in these parts. If the coastguards find out I’m here, I wouldn’t like to say what sort of reception we might get.”
“You villain! What are you? Some sort of pirate? I should have known.”
“It’s just a question of some supplies not paid for,” the captain mumbled. “And a few other little matters,” he added softly.
Darin looked at him, not hiding the contempt in his eyes. “Don’t worry, you’re under our protection. Sultan al-Din and Arthur value their cordial relationship; the king’s seal will ensure the safety of our whole party.”
The captain looked doubtful. “I still think it would be best to be cautious. If you want me and my ship to get you home again, that is. They might not wait to parley.”
“Very well. Do you have a suggestion?”
“If I take us in close to the shoreline over there, I can sneak us into a little cove before we reach the bay yonder where the sultan’s palace and the citadel stand. We’ll just have to hope nobody sees us. I will wait for you there, but if they come for me I shall have to put out to sea again and pick you up when I can. I’ll watch out
for a signal—perhaps by then you will have been able to negotiate something.”
Darin weighed this up for a moment. “All right,” he said. “Let’s do it.”
Keepers of the Western Forest Page 28
