by Bob Nailor
The helmsman nodded and shrugged. He lashed the hand grips of the wheel with rope tied to the ship’s side rail.
"This will help hold the course," he said. "After some time necessary for you to give your arms a much needed break, we'll straighten The Albatross Wing out. Now, you, let go of the helm and relax your arms."
Jewyl eased off her hold on the helm and watched the young man's arm muscles tighten and his face strain as he picked up the tension. "You are much stronger than you appear," he said.
"A compliment, I'm sure," Jewyl said.
The helmsman scanned the skies above, Jewyl followed suit. The clouds rolled and churned as the storm progressed.
"Help me," the helmsman hollered.
Jewyl jumped up and grabbed the helm with him and attempted to move it back to its original position. She watched the rope they’d tied to the wheel whip in the winds. It’d snapped.
"This is not good," the helmsman said. "A very bad omen."
"What do you mean?" Jewyl asked.
"The ship is possessed," he replied and let go of the helm. "See? It does not move."
"Of course not," Jewyl said. "I'm still holding the helm."
She felt the helm move under her hands, not away but in the same direction she had been holding. She let go.
"Possessed?" the helmsman queried and wiped the rain from his face.
"It would appear that way," Jewyl replied and kept an eye on the helm. It held true, not moving. "I wonder where we are going."
"Going?" the helmsman echoed.
Jewyl nodded and kept watching the helm. There, in the collective rain she could faintly see the wet outline of huge, rugged hands, sometimes skeletal, holding the helm. Jewyl stepped back and stared into the space above the helm. The rain channeled and flowed around the large specter, making him both visible and invisible in the wetness.
The specter leaned his head back, lightening shot through the air, and Jewyl could see the face of the skull, the jaw moving to talk. A shriek pierced the air.
All the deck hands turned aft to watch the ghostly character take shape at the helm.
Again, the jaw moved. "Welcome," the specter said and let loose a terrifying laugh to match the howling wind.
Jopab leaped forward and protectively wrapped his arms about Jewyl. "What do we have here?"
She pulled away and gouged an elbow into his chest.
"What in the name of Hagontha is that?" Percho asked.
"Chaos," Chardo said. "This ship is doomed."
"Helmsman!" Murdo yelled. "Take your position. That helm is unmanned."
"It's haunted," the helmsman replied. "Look closely, do you see our speed?"
Everyone quickly glanced over the edge of the ship to see the surging ocean. Then, in unison, the group looked to the bow and watched it slice through the very top of the waves.
"The ship is possessed," Murdo whispered, his eyes wide in terror. "Even now, see how it is being lifted?"
Jewyl grabbed a handrail on the port side of the ship, leaned over and scrutinized the situation — one that, indeed, did have the ship out of the water.
"It is caused by the woman," a voice yelled above the wailing winds. "It is because of her we have endured all this misfortune."
"A woman should never be aboard a ship," another voice yelled.
"Get her," yelled one of the nearby crew. "Throw her overboard."
"Stand back," Murdo yelled. "She is under my protection, and she brought no evil aboard this ship."
A haunting, laughing shriek cut through the air from the phantom helmsman. He turned the helm to a hard starboard even though the ship wasn't in water. The ship responded with a lurch. The wet deck was slippery. Jewyl slipped, fell, and floundered on the wet deck. She tried to watch the barely visible helmsman while grabbing for something to hold onto. The phantom raised his hands into the air, stood there momentarily, and then completely disappeared.
"There are rocks ahead," the young helmsman yelled. "Look out!"
The ship dropped through the air, crashing upon the rough waves, only to be dashed and splintered upon the rocks.
Jewyl felt the deck cracking and breaking beneath her. She grabbed a rope and hung on. The cold sea water engulfed her. There was chaos, splintering wood, and sputtered screaming. She could feel the rope pulling her down. It twisted about her arm, locking her in a death grip. She fought for release, and kicked her feet to keep from being dragged any deeper. Finally, she was loose and quickly bobbed to the surface.
A group of large boulders loomed in the darkness and foaming waters. Wave after wave of water crashed against the stones. Jewyl moved toward them.
If I can make it to the rocks and not be killed in the surf striking them, she thought, and swam furiously with the flowing tides as they lunged toward the stones before being violently pulled away.
"Jewyl?" Chardo's voice called out. "Anyone?"
"I'm here," Jewyl replied. "I’m swimming toward the boulders."
"Already on some," Chardo replied. "Percho? Jopab? Captain Murdo? Anyone?"
The winds howled, but there were no crying voices in it. The rain had stopped.
Jewyl clambered onto the stones and saw Chardo a mere ten feet away on another outcropping.
"Anyone else alive?" Jewyl yelled into the wind.
Silence.
"What happened to all of the ship?" Jewyl asked. "There is only a small amount of wood floating about." She pulled at her clothes twisting them together into knots to remove as much water as possible.
"Are you okay?" Chardo asked. "You were under the water for so long."
"My wrist and arm got tangled in a rope," she replied. "Where is everyone?"
"One of the men said he could hear the surf so there has to be land," Chardo replied. "I know some of the men went that way." He pointed.
"What of our group?" Jewyl asked. There was silence. "Jopab?" More silence. "Percho!"
"Nothing," he replied. "I've heard nothing of them."
"Maybe they went toward land?" Jewyl offered.
"Possibly, but I doubt it," he replied. "I've been yelling their names, including yours, for quite some time. I was about to give up when you replied."
"There is hope," Jewyl said. "Jopab? Percho?" She listened, but was only greeted by the sound of waves crashing near her.
"Per-cho... Jo-pab," Chardo yelled into the darkness.
"I hear something," Jewyl yelled. "It's coming from this side." She pointed toward the land. "I can hear voices."
"Perhaps they are the sounds of the men as they fall off the edge of the world," Chardo said.
"You wouldn't hear surf if it truly was a drop off," Jewyl said. "Jopab! Percho!" she yelled toward the sounds. She listened.
"I'll swear someone is calling to us," Jewyl said. "Listen."
"Race you there," Chardo said and dived into the swirling waters.
"Chardo! You idiot," she screamed and carefully eased into the waters.
"Hurry," Jopab said as he bobbed into view. "Swim fast. There is more in these waters than us. Nasty things we really don't want to meet."
"Where have you been?" Jewyl asked. She started to swim toward the shore.
"I was pushed around the rocks when we crashed," he said. "I was about to try to swim back to the rocks when I heard somebody yell there was land. I’ve been swimming for land."
"What of Percho and Captain Murdo?" Jewyl asked.
"Murdo is on the beach," Jopab said. "Percho? I haven't seen him, yet. He may have been lost in the crash."
"If you want to beat me," Chardo said, swimming up next to Jewyl. "You're going to have to stop talking to Jopab so much."
"Good to see you, too," Jopab said.
"I can hear the surf now, we're close," Jewyl said. "What just brushed my leg?"
"Stand up," Jopab said. "It is a long walk to shore since the sands come out so very far."
Chardo stood and began to run toward the beach, sloughing through the surf.
"S
omething has my leg," Jewyl shrieked. "Get it off."
"Stand up," Jopab demanded and looked at the thing attached to Jewyl's leg. "It is a sucker fish, I think."
He took a knife and scraped it down Jewyl's right leg. "This will hurt a little," he whispered.
Jewyl felt the knife brushing along her leg; then she felt it grind against the teeth of the sucker fish. She could almost hear the popping sound each tooth made as it broke contact with Jewyl’s leg. The fish dropped off and Jopab stabbed it. He brought it to eye level to view.
"What's happening?" Chardo asked splashing back into the surf from shore.
"Nasty little thing," he said. "Want to look at it?" he offered it to Chardo.
"I've had enough of this water," Jewyl said and proceeded toward the shoreline.
"Aiee!" came the yell. "You do not belong here."
Everyone turned toward the area where the voice had come from.
"Turn back," the voice yelled. "You are in danger."
A short man in tattered clothes ran from the trees. "Go away," he demanded. His hands flailed above him to chase the survivors away. "Go back, now! Your lives are in danger."
Jewyl watched a scraggly bearded man with the disheveled hair charge toward her.
"A woman?" The man stopped abruptly.
Jewyl brought up her sword as did others of the group.
The man stared at the group while tugging on his beard, twiddling his fingers through the unruly hairs.
"This is not right," he said. He bobbed his head a couple of times, before bringing one hand up to his temple and tapping his fingers on his forehead, as if it helped him to think.
His eyes glazed and lips moved. Jewyl listened to the broken words.
"Not living... Woman... Not lost soul... No men... Ships..."
The man’s eyes cleared and focused.
"Yes! Ships," he yelled. "Where are your ships? To rescue me? Yes?"
Murdo stepped forward. "I've no intention of saving you," he said. "If you wish, I can quickly run this blade through you and end your miserable life. Who are you?"
The man's eyes flared wide. "Me? Who am I? I am..." The man bent his head and searched the ground before him. "My name. My name?" He dropped to his knees in the sand, his hands scribbling in the sand. "My name is…" He looked up at Jewyl. "Please, you must save me."
Murdo lifted his sword. "What is your name?"
"Please," the man said then started crying. "My name is–- I don't remember my name," he said between the sobs. He stopped crying and wildly looked in both directions. "We are not alone. It is not safe here."
"You've said that before," Jewyl said, and walked up to the man. She knelt down in front of him and grabbed his hands. "Yes, I am a woman. Who are you? Take your time. Think."
The man quivered and shrunk back from Jewyl, all the while searching her face with maniacal eyes.
"My name is... my name is Hars... my name is Harsbor." He pulled himself up proudly. "No! My name is Harsborz."
Jewyl searched his eyes which once more had changed from the look of a wild man to that of a sane person.
"My name is Harsborz," he said. "I have been on this island over…" He hesitated. "I’ve been here a long time. We are all in danger. This is the Island of Lost Souls."
"That is a legend," Murdo said. "I've sailed the seas for many years and never once come upon it."
"You're here, now," Harsborz said, and glared at Murdo. "Beware, my good man, for it will steal your soul."
"Are you the only one here?" Murdo asked.
"I am," Harsborz said with a curious smile. "And I am not. There are the undead, and the non-living also exist here." His lips curled in a grin. "Both of them can cause you harm."
"Undead? Non-living?" Jewyl repeated, questioning his words.
"There are those who come and pretend to be the dead," Harsborz said. "I call them the undead. Plus, there are also the non-living. Those I call the true lost souls."
"You try to trick us," Jopab said. "Living. Dead. Not. In Hagontha's name, what is your ploy?"
"Hagontha?" Harsborz frowned and scowled at Jopab. "She is but a newborn goddess, a baby. Beware of her and the Lost Souls." Harsborz's voice deepened and the words flowed in a chant. "For in the true path, the queen of all that is, was, and not to be, will rule the living and not living. Only when the Lost Souls have been put to rest will the true nature of her be known. All hail and may chaos rule."
"I've not heard that one before," Jopab said. "At least, not those exact words."
"What do you mean?" Chardo asked.
"Do you remember me talking about Yendisa?" Jopab whispered.
"Aiee!" Harsborz yelled. "You say the unspeakable name. It is she who the undead come to worship."
"Who are these undead?" Chardo asked. "You keep mentioning them."
The man cowered momentarily then sheepishly looked around. His eyes squinted as he stared down the beach, into the darkness.
"No," Harsborz shouted, and scrambled away a few feet away on all fours. "She comes! Beware the lost souls," he yelled and pointed a gnarled index finger toward them. "You've been warned," he said, leapt up, and quickly disappeared into the shrubs.
"Okay," Jewyl said. "Anyone familiar with these lost souls he's babbling about? Either one of them?" She looked at the men’s' blank faces. "No? Fine," she said. "Let's call it a night, start a fire and get settled in."
"You don't give orders to my men," Murdo said. He raised an eyebrow and glared at Jewyl. "They will do as I tell them."
"We're not your men," Chardo said. "I agree with Jewyl. We should settle in for the night since we don't know where we are. Any rest is better than no rest when fighting an unknown."
Jewyl surveyed the dark shadows beyond the sands of the beach. In the clearing night sky she could tell this island was bigger than she expected. She cast a glance down the beach in each direction.
"Who's that?" Murdo asked and pointed.
Percho? Jewyl thought. She glanced in the direction Murdo was pointing to see a slim shadowy figure strolling toward them. "A woman?" Jewyl softly asked.
"Why a woman?" Murdo asked. "On this forsaken island?"
"It could be a woman," Jopab replied. "By the size of this island I would expect some natives to inhabit it." There was silence. "Of course, Harsborz doesn't really instill the confidence of more inhabitants."
"There is something wrong," Jewyl said. "Watch her. Do you see how the shadows play on her body?"
Before Murdo could say anything, three of his crew rushed forward, stumbling in the sand, to meet the strange woman. She stretched out her arms to greet them as they floundered closer. Suddenly there was a melee of activity — large, muscular sailors tossed about as if they were nothing more than paper dolls. The sand settled and the woman continued toward them.
"I may be stating the obvious here," Jewyl said. "But, don't you think we should consider some course of action?"
The figure moved toward Murdo. His men cautiously gave way as she approached him.
Jewyl had been correct. The lights did play games on this strange woman, and at times she appeared almost invisible.
"A ghost," one of the crew finally yelled. "How can that be?"
"Stand behind me," Jewyl said, and pushed Murdo aside to step in front of him and face the stranger. "What is your business here?"
The shadowy figure halted and tried to see beyond Jewyl to find Murdo.
"You are not in charge," the woman said and floated back, hovering three feet away from Jewyl. "I must talk with the person in command."
"You will talk with me, or you'll talk with no one," Jewyl said and lifted her sword to a ready position of attack.
"Very well, Jewyl," the woman said and lifted her sword in preparation to parry Jewyl's attack. "I tried to warn you." The ghost disappeared in an explosion of showering sparks and smoke.
Jewyl staggered backward from the fireworks, but quickly regained her stance and composure. She brushed sand off her
arms and legs, and shook her hair to remove any from it.
"Impressive exit," Jewyl muttered.
"How did she know your name?" Chardo asked.
"You caught that, did you?" Jewyl replied and smiled at him. "When she got closer, she appeared more familiar, yet I couldn't recognize her.
"An adversary from your past?" Murdo asked, all the while listening to the mutterings of his crew.
Jewyl shrugged. "Perhaps." She took three strides toward the crew men then slashed the sword into the sand, dragging a piercing line as she walked toward the trees. "This is my border. Tread across the line and be prepared to battle a fighting demon." Jewyl pointed at herself. "Stay on this side with me and I will attempt to protect you. As our guest so aptly stated, 'You have been warned.' I know how to use this and I am a very light sleeper." She sheathed her sword, turned and walked toward Chardo. "There may be sleep yet tonight," she whispered as she passed him.
"You heard her," Murdo said stepping over the line to join his crew. "My sword will aid my crew with any problems on this side of that line." He turned to face Jewyl and glared at her and her companions. "Cross over your line into my territory, and this sword will be your enemy." He lifted his sword into the air, bowed then turned to his crew. "Now, get about to take some sleep. Who will handle first watch?"
Chardo gathered some driftwood and soon had a rewarding fire. Jopab grabbed a branch with flames and carried it toward the ship's crew as an offering of good faith. Soon, two fires blazed on the beach. Percho and Jopab joined forces to gather food, and the sound of cracking shells could be heard.
Jewyl nibbled the sweet meat from the half-shell and stared into the darkness where Harsborz obviously hid...
What else lurked beyond? Jewyl wondered.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Kiss Of The Lost Souls
Jewyl laid on the sands of the beach, her eyelids closing slowly, only to pop back open at the faint sounds of the roaring fire or crashing surf. She couldn't believe it was only last night she had made love with Jopab. Right now it seemed so long ago. The fire crackled softly, and in the distance she could see Chardo squatting, his body tense to take action at a moment's notice. He was keeping watch over her and Jopab. She smiled at the memory of last night, before scowling and scolding herself for the frivolity. Something light touched her cheek. She awoke and tensed, but only in the manner not to give her away. Her first reaction was to jump up, but she held back. She kept her eyes closed. Again, she felt something touch her head, then her arm, and finally her leg. Again. Again. Again. Jewyl opened one eye and slowly scanned the area. Jopab had relieved Chardo of the watch. The fire was low, but still strong enough to ward off any stray animals. All seemed normal.
