It couldn't have been a long rest, but it had been enough for his resilient young body, and he poured soup into two cups, then put the water kettle back on. He'd towel her down with warm water.
That might help.
He took half of his cup of soup between struggling out of his wet-weather gear and finding clean, dry, warm clothing from the cupboard. He got out the warmest things Kasia had brought with her and the heavy woollen socks. These he put on her feet, after chafing them until she moaned and tried to draw them away from him; they were pink with his ministrations.
Now he had enough warm water and soaked a towel, passing it from one hand to the other before he pulled back the fur and laid it against her chilled legs for a few moments, coaxing warmth back into them.
The bluehess was leaving her skin by the time he got her to drink all her soup, but she lay limply under the fur, drained by even the slight effort required to swallow. Under them the little ship rocked gently, pulling at the anchor chain, then following the sea as it was pulled back again. He got in the bunk beside her, covering them both with the other fur, and at last allowed himself the luxury of sleep.
An urgent need to relieve himself was what brought Robinton back to consciousness. He couldn't move easily, partly because of the weight of Kasia across him and partly because of the resistance of tired muscles. It took him a few moments to remember why he had slept so deeply. Startled, he looked out of the little round porthole and saw a shadowed shore through the mist that swirled on the surface. Little waves splashed against the side of the ship, and she rode easily on the anchor.
Trying not to groan as he forced abused muscles to work, he slid out from under Kasia and all but fell off the bunk. Kasia didn't move, but her face wasn't quite so white and her lips were no longer blue-tinged. He tucked the fur about her firmly and staggered up the steps, throwing open the hatch. The air was chill and dank with fog, and the deck was littered with sea wrack. He went hand-over-hand from the cabin housing to the rail to get to the side and relieve himself– and it was indeed a relief.
Curious, he peered through the fog to see where they had fetched up, but he could see little detail on the shore – if there was a shore.
Some of the inlets were nothing but shallow pockets eroded from the cliff by the sea. Whatever! This one had saved their lives.
He went below again.
The brazier had gone out; the charcoal was all ashes. He got more and started another fire, warming his hands as the charcoal began to burn. Kasia moaned, stirred, and then coughed. Fearful of fever, he felt her forehead but it was cold. So were her cheeks. Too cold.
He filled the kettle from the cistern and put it to heat on one side of the grill over the charcoal, then set the soup kettle on the other half. Panting from even that little bit of exercise, he sat on the edge of the bunk and took deep, slow breaths. A shiver ran down his back, and he realized that he was almost as cold as Kasia.
When the klah was made and the soup warm enough to be helpful, he roused her, stuffing pillows and the cadsaks behind her for support. She turned her head restlessly, batting at him, and coughed again – a little, almost apologetic bark.
"Kasia, wake up. You need to eat, love."
She shook her head, her expression petulant even with her eyes firmly shut.
He talked her eyes open and made her drink, and she gave him a weak little smile and then went back to sleep again.
That seemed a very sensible idea, so he finished his soup and climbed back under the furs. Her arms were cold under his hands and he rubbed them, breaking off only when even that effort proved exhausting.
They slept again.
Robinton began to feel real concern when the second long sleep revived him but seemed to have little effect on Kasia's terrible lethargy. And the cold was increasing. The wooden hull offered no protection against the cold's insidious draining of their body warmth. He had dressed her in the warmest clothes and heated the kettle time and time again, wrapping it well and settling it securely near her feet which, in spite of the heavy socks, were like ice to the touch. He forced her to drink and, when she complained that her stomach was bursting with all he had made her drink, he found a way to hold her over a bucket to relieve herself.
The fog had lifted sufficiently for him to see that sheer cliffs surrounded the little cove, with no discernible track up them to find help. But he did not feel confident in himself to sail the ship out
into the sea. Also, he had absolutely no idea where they were: on Tillek's coast or the bleak western end of High Reaches, or if they'd been blown further down the coast of Fort.
He gave them both another day and, when that dawn rose frostily clear and even klah gave him no warmth, he roused her to give him what instructions she could from the bunk.
"If I leave the hatch open, can you see enough to tell me if I'm doing anything wrong?" he pleaded with her when she seemed unable to grasp his concern. They had little food left, almost no charcoal, and without that small heat to warm the cabin they would surely freeze in the night.
"They'll come. Search," she murmured.
"They won't see us. We've got to stand out to sea where the sail will be visible."
"You're able for that, Rob," she said with the hint of a smile.
"You can do more than you think you can."
"Then so can you," he said bluntly, fear driving him.
She shook her head sadly and closed her eyes again.
He watched her, thinking how valiantly she had fought the storm. But now the storm was over and she looked to him, her spouse, to keep his promise to care for her. Only he hadn't thought he'd be put to such a test quite this soon.
"All right, if that's the way it's to be, I'll just have to do."
With fear making his feet heavier, he thudded up on deck. The surrounding cliffs had an ominous look about them. What had been a refuge now seemed a prison.
"We'll just have to get out into the open sea," he told himself. "I can do that much." He licked his finger and held it up, but felt only the faintest touch of a breeze. Fortunately it was blowing down from the cliffs and out to sea. They had been mightily lucky to throw down the anchor when they did, for the ship would have been mashed against the cliff had it sailed much further.
He couldn't make up his mind whether to hoist the sail first, or the anchor. At last he decided that if the sail was up, the ship might move towards the open sea once the anchor let it.
He managed both, but was panting by the time he reached the cockpit and took the tiller bar in his hands.
"I've hoisted the sail, Kasia, and the anchor, though I could blow and get more use of the sail."
She murmured something that sounded encouraging and, sure enough, the little ship slowly eased forward and passed the sheltering arm of the cove. The sea was almost too calm when he saw its vast expanse. Once the ship was clear of the shelter, though, the breeze picked up and the sail filled.
"Right or left, Kasia? I've no idea where we are."
"Starboard ... right, Rob. Go right." He had to ask her three times to repeat her instructions more loudly so that he could hear her weakened voice clearly.
"I'm shrieking nowwwww," she protested, and her face came into his range of vision as she lifted herself off the bunk.
That was better, he thought, than lying there like a cut of wool.
"Right," he roared back at her. "I'm going right. Starboard." And almost immediately he had to correct the ship as he saw the jagged reef he had been about to sail into. Panic gripped him, and he struggled to keep his bowels from loosening.
"Stupid dimwit," he admonished himself. "Watch where you're going."
When he judged they were well enough past the rocks, he changed his seat and threw the tiller over to port – he remembered that much of Captain Gostol's afternoon lesson. And then he grabbed for the sheet to keep the wind in the sail.
The speed of the sloop picked up, and he rather enjoyed the pull of sheet and tiller in his hand. At l
east he was doing something.
It was midday, to judge by the sun's position, and the high cliffs along which the ship sailed were totally unfamiliar to him.
"We've got nothing but cliffs, Kasia. Where could we be?" He saw her raise herself up and shake her head. "Keep on."
So he did, until the pleasure left the occupation and fatigue began to run along both arms as the sun dropped slowly in the awesomely vast western sea. The cliffs continued unbroken. Had they found refuge in the one cove along this entire coast? Would they find another one for tonight? He doubted he could stand a longer watch. And he ought to eat something, and be sure that Kasia did too.
"What do I do, Kasia? What do I do?"
"Sail on," she cried back at him.
The sea was calm as night fell, and the breeze died also. So, lashing the tiller as he'd once seen Captain Gostol do for a quick moment of relief, he clattered down into the cabin, startling Kasia awake.
"There's nothing but cliff," he protested as he started the last of the charcoal. He'd have to feed her something. It had been hours since the last cup of soup and some hard crackers he'd found in the cupboard. He must have some klah to stay awake.
"It will have to give to beach soon then, Rob. I'm so sorry, love.
So very sorry." And she wept piteously.
He comforted her while the water heated. "You kept us afloat all during the storm and used up all your strength, my love. Don't cry.
Please don't cry. We can't have the furs all wet on you."
His cajolery made her smile and sniff, and brash away her tears.
"But I can't do anything to help ..."
"That's all right. I'm fine. I just don't know what I'm doing." He imbued the complaint with as much humour as he could. Then he left her with more soup, and took his and the klah up to the cockpit.
The night was clear and very cold. But the wind picked up, blowing almost steadily from the south – and that, he felt, was to their advantage. Surely, if they got close enough to Tillek, there'd be fishing ships out on a night like this. Or maybe even someone looking for them?
"No, you two got yourself into this. You can get yourself out of this," he told himself firmly and dragged the bad-weather gear more tightly about his body, trying to keep warm. "Got yourself in, get yourself out." He turned the cadence into a chant, rocking from side to side, which eased the numbness in his buttocks. The chant went to his feet, and he stamped them in turn. And he sang and stamped and rocked and thumped the tiller bar with his hands, inventing new rhythms, and altogether enjoying the activity when he suddenly realized that something was coming out of the darkness ahead of him, large and white, and someone was yelling.
"Sloop ahoy!"
"Shards, what do I do now? Steer starboard, right, starboard!" he yelled at the white shape bearing down on him. As hard as he could, he pushed the tiller over and nearly clouted himself in the head as the boom swung past.
They were rescued by the schooner Wave Rider. Two sturdy fish-men lifted Kasia aboard to other willing hands. Robinton managed to climb the rope ladder, awkward with fatigue and stiff joints.
With the little sloop tied on behind, Wave Rider swung round and headed back to Tillek Hold, her mission complete. A glowbasket was hung from the top of the mast to let other ships know that the lost had been found.
The second mate, Lissala, who was also Captain Idarolan's wife, tended to Kasia while Idarolan did similar services for Robinton, remarking on how a mere harper had managed so well.
"Kasia told me what to do," he protested between spoonfuls of a hearty fish stew, bobbing with root vegetables which had never tasted so good, and bread which had been fresh the day before when the search parties were organized to locate the missing and long-overdue sloop.
"Aye, Harper, but it was you doing it."
"She'll be fine now," Lissala said, returning and slipping into a seat opposite Robinton. "Wise of you to be sure she drank so much.
No frostbite, but ..." She sharply looked at his discoloured fingers.
Startled, because without his hands he was nothing, he held them both out to her and felt the pinch she gave the tips. "No, they're all right, but another coupla hours out in that" – she nodded her head to indicate the cold night – "and it might've been different. But we've got you safe and snug aboard." She reached round for a cup and poured klah, holding the pot up and looking enquiringly at Robinton, who shook his head.
"Where were we when you found us?" Robinton asked.
Idarolan chuckled, rubbing his chin. "Halfway up the coast from Fort. You'd've done better to go to port. You weren't that far from a fish-hold."
Robinton groaned, but then reminded himself that they'd had no idea at all where the storm had blown them.
"Kasia told me right, starboard," he said, gesturing with the appropriate arm.
"Not to worry. We have you now." Then, as Robinton could not suppress an immense yawn – one part relief, one part being warm, and the other total fatigue – Idarolan added, "Come, man, I'll bed you down."
"Where's Kasia?" Robinton asked, looking up and down the passageway.
"In there," the captain said, indicating a door they were passing by. "You're in here." He opened another door across the way and slid the little glowbasket open. "Take the lower bunk. Ellic's on this watch."
Robinton wondered how long "this watch" was before he'd have to leave the bunk, but as soon as he laid himself down, he lost hold of the question and never heard the answer.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Clostan went over both of them thoroughly. Kasia had recovered some of her normal colour and strength by the time they docked at Tillek, where relieved folk helped them on to the wharf and up to the Hold. Lissala supported Kasia on one side and Robinton on the other, though Robinton wanted to carry Kasia and spare her the walk.
"You can barely carry yourself yet, man," said Idarolan.
Robinton had to admit that he was shaky on his feet. He was only too glad to follow Clostan, who met them at the Hold door and swooped Kasia up in his arms to carry her down to the infirmary.
By then the Lord and Lady Holder had learned of their safe return and hurried to the infirmary too. Juvana hovered anxiously over her sister and Melongel frowned, having clearly been very worried.
"You've both had quite an ordeal," Clostan said with a deep sigh.
Kasia coughed politely into her hand, and the healer scowled. "I'll fix a soothing draught to ease that right smart. But neither of you is to do anything for the next three days. I'll go over you again then."
Juvana insisted they stay in one of the low-level guest apartments.
Their own level was cold, being too far from the source of heat with which the Ancients had warmed the Hold, and they needed the warmth of hearth-heated rooms. Indeed, Robinton couldn't seem to heat the cold out of his bones and was drawn to
the fire like a forest insect. Following Clostan's orders they rested in bed a full day, Juvana keeping hot water-bottles in a row under the furs, causing Robinton to complain that his feet were fine – it was the rest of him that wasn't warm.
Mostly Kasia slept, not even rousing when she coughed. Rob dosed fitfully, waking briefly every time she coughed. He woke once to find himself beating out the cadence of "Got in, get out ..." And another time from a nightmare where he couldn't hear her or see her in the mist which blanketed him. He knew she was calling and he kept trying to answer, but his jaws were frozen stuck.
Captain Gostol came in, apologetic that he had left a search almost too long.
"Kasia's knowledgeable about the sea and little ships. And you two finally having a chance to be alone for the first time ... That storm only reached us late the other night – which is when we began to get concerned with you being overdue back in the harbour." He kept turning his sea cap in his hands, working round and round on the brim.
"I did what Kasia told me," Robinton murmured, refusing to take much credit. "You should have seen her handling the sloop in that st
orm, though. You' d' ve been proud of her. As I am." He patted her leg under the furs, and she smiled wanly up at him.
"You got us home," she said, just the hint of a sparkle back in her eyes.
Then she coughed, a funny dry hack that Clostan's potion didn't seem to ease.
If the healer was concerned about the way the cough hung on, he made no mention of it to Robinton. And soon they were well enough to go back to their own quarters. Juvana had put braziers in both rooms, to take the chill off. The black rock burned hotly, but with a smell and an acrid smoke which sometimes irritated Kasia's cough. Rob suggested returning to the warmer, lower level, but she said she wanted to be in the place they had fixed for themselves, with all their own things. And anyway, she added, they would both be spending much of their time in the warmer schoolrooms when they resumed their duties the following seven-day.
Clostan became very busy as the unnaturally cold weather brought him many coughs and colds, running noses and fevers. He continued to check up on Kasia, but she kept insisting that she felt fine.
"Except for the cough," Robinton added, chiding her for not mentioning it.
"It's only now and then, Rob," she said. Her listlessness still worried him. She seemed so tired by evening that she would fall asleep in his arms. He didn't mind; she felt so good against him, and he felt so protective of his lovely green-eyed spouse.
The cold was further compounded by three blizzards, following one after the other. No one moved about the Hold or attempted to take the ships out for fish. Lord Melongel was a good provider and, while the weather remained so bitter, opened his stores to those who were short of food. It was essential to keep everyone healthy in this awful weather.
A feverish cough developed and spread from the schoolroom to the old aunties and uncles. Clostan asked for assistance in his nursing duties and both Robinton and Kasia volunteered, since many of the patients were their students.
Then, one night, Robinton was awakened by Kasia's thrashing.
Moaning and mumbling, throwing her arms and legs about, she was burning up with fever. Robinton charged down to the infirmary, where the assistant healer on night duty gave him the powdered herb which would reduce the fever, and the salve to rub on her throat, chest and back. Robinton detoured to the kitchen and got himself klah and a pitcher of the flavoured water that was being used for invalids.
The Master Harper of Pern Page 31
