The clap of thunder seemed to halt time for a moment around the little vessel as rumble after rumble echoed upon the water. Gerid prayed that the lightning would stay in the sky rather than striking the struggling Trotter.
They needed to make it to the island desperately. The winds were getting too strong for the sails, even as shortened as they had made them, but they could be lowered no further. Any less sail and the Trotter would make no use of the winds and instead simply get swallowed up by the watery mountains around them. A loud crack signaled the tear of one of the sails and Gerid gritted his teeth and waited to see if more followed.
Nearly half an hour more had turned the world dark around the Trotter, and they still had not made it into sight of the shoreline of the island. Without being asked, Jahkob climbed the mast. Gerid shouted for the man to come back down, but his shout was lost to the wind. Anchoring the wheel with Artes, he waited worriedly for the man to stop his foolish challenging of the elements. The commander would have gone after the sailor, if not for his need at the helm.
Jahkob looked down and shouted something that none of them could hear. With animated hand gestures, the brave lookout let them know they had steered too far north. They were not past the island, but they would have missed her completely if not for the lookout's efforts.
More thunder erupted above them in the clouds. The rigging and masts seemed to brighten from within in answer. "Get down, Jahkob! Get down! The Trotter's building up a charge, man. Hurry!" the admiral shouted even though he knew the sailor could not hear him.
It didn't matter as he watched Jahkob sliding quickly down the lines. His hands seemed to strike sparks, but the sailor had sailed long enough to leave the danger as it began to manifest itself. The sailor was nearly to the deck when the night lit up blindingly. The crash of thunder followed instantaneously deafening the crew and Gerid as well.
With a bright line still emblazoned into his sight, Gerid could barely make out that the central mast had been reduced to less than half its stature. Canvas and ropes over the starboard side of the Trotter were still attached to large pieces of the mast. At least one man had been swept over the side, but Jahkob was not there yet. The man lay sprawled in a daze on the deck. He had fallen the last several feet to hit hard enough to nearly knock the man unconscious.
"Malek, take the wheel with Artes!" the giant ordered as he pulled the nearest man into the wheel box to take his place. Gerid then ran to the fallen sailor and searched for any others that needed help as he picked up the man under one arm. Turning back in the hopes of getting back to the helm, Gerid could see that two of his men were indeed missing.
There were no cries that he could hear in the chaos of the storm's winds and no bodies could be spied anywhere on deck. The admiral had to force himself to forget the brave sailors while he attempted to save the ones he still had.
Not more than three steps were taken when a wave crossed the Trotter's path to swat the ship in its way. A cracking sound as the hull shivered with the impact could be heard even above the winds. Gerid was thrown to one knee with the impact as well and started to struggle up when another wave swept across the bow of the ship. The Trotter tilted sending the two men sliding back towards the railing on the starboard again.
"Admiral!" the cry was faint. He couldn't even tell who's voice it had been. The message was received, however, when a new wave swept across the deck. The force of it nearly swept Gerid and his burden from the ship. If they hadn't been so close already, he would never have been able to catch his hand hold on the rail.
The giant struggled back to his feet as the Trotter continued to toss about like a leaf in the wind. The two men in the wheel box could barely hold the wheel steady enough to prevent from tipping. Gerid knew that he needed to reach the men and lend his strength to their efforts. He also needed to get Jahkob to the meager safety of the little box if he could. Another wave threatened his footing, but his strength was great enough to resist.
The man snorted at the thought of strength. Resistance to the elements, indeed. Fear crept into his heart as the wind and the waves continued to try and draw him into the depths. What was his strength in the face of this storm?
A new wave washed in from the far side of the Trotter. It was huge. The hull of the ship seemed nonexistent to the towering wall of water. It rolled almost unchecked over the deck. Gerid closed his eyes and gripped his handhold tightly. He knelt below the rail hoping to resist the elements once more.
The water hit him with incredible force. So strong was it that a mast shattered sending canvas and wood flying into the water. He heard a scream as one of the sailors went with the mast, his tether line following his wooden support with him still attached. The hull groaned and boards cracked. Water began to enter through weakened seams. The Trotter was in dire distress and worst of all, her captain was no longer aboard to try and save her.
The wall and rail had shattered as his shoulders had met first the wave and then the wall. The impact had sent Gerid and Jahkob literally through the side of the rail. With handhold still in hand, the men struck the water and were immediately sucked beneath the waves.
The water swirled and pulled. Gerid hoped that Jahkob would not drown before they reached the surface again. He held the man's nose and mouth closed against the water and kicked hard for where he hoped was the surface. Several long seconds and the giant was rewarded with a brief gasp of air. He released his hold on the unconscious man's mouth and hoped Jahkob would breath in the treasured breaths.
Another wave swept over them. Gerid clamped his hands over the other man's mouth and nose once again to prevent him taking on water. They were swept around effortlessly by the ocean's currents again. Again Gerid fought his way to the surface where they could breath.
Over and over the two men rose to the surface only to be swept below again. He lost track of how many times they had been tossed below only to come back up, before a piece of one of the Trotter's masts seemed to meet his outstretched hand. They broke the surface to find the six foot length almost on top of them. Gerid thanked the gods and draped Jahkob's unconscious form across the wood and held onto both man and log himself.
With the broken spire to keep them above water with less work, Gerid was finally able to use his strength to simply stay afloat. He was no longer struggling just to find air.
Kicking his legs slowly, the man began moving towards where he believed shore might be. Gerid had lost sight of it long ago, but he refused to give up and hoped that the gods would guide him as they had well before. The man tried not to think of the wrong turns they had sent him into also and thought of what he would leave behind if he failed. The man had too many commitments to fail here.
It was much later and even Gerid's great strength was starting to fail from lack of food and warmth. He had given up swimming much at all. When the weather subsided, maybe then the man would be able to find the island that Gerid knew they had almost been on top of when he had been swept overboard with Jahkob.
Resting his head against the rounded beam, Gerid soon began to struggle with the need to not fall asleep. He was exhausted and though the storm seemed to be lessening, there would be no time to sleep for quite some time.
The giant began to kick his legs again just to keep awake. It was tiring, but he hoped that the thought of the kicks would keep him awake enough to fight onwards. The sky was turning to just gray then and the rain seemed to have lessened perhaps. Gerid was wondering whether the crew had managed to make the island with the Trotter or if his crew had succumbed the same as he or even worse.
The water entering his mouth and nose brought him quickly awake again. He couldn't even remember finishing his thought before the startling lack of breath had awoken him. His hand still was tied to the mast as the survivor had made sure to do earlier. Checking for Jahkob, he found the man was still unconscious but breathing atop the broken mast. He would save at least one person, Gerid could still hope.
The rain had nearly disappeared,
though the wind still had the waves mounting to nearly ten feet above them when it happened again. Sleep, darkness and then the water causing him to choke and reawaken. His eyes saw little, but he could have sworn that he felt a pair of arms helping him atop the wood beside Jahkob.
It must have been the sailor, he thought, even though the man seemed to still be unconscious. His foggy mind didn't bother to think about that as he fell back asleep in exhaustion.
The waves seemed lower again.
The feel of sand beneath his feet surprised Gerid. He was still half asleep, but he could feel an arm about his waist supporting him. Jahkob was before him still sleeping. Eyes half glazed over, Gerid noticed the woman beside him.
Her hair was green, he thought amusedly. The woman noted his attention and smiled a tight smile. Darkness swept over him once again, but only for a short time. The woman was helping him stand and even walk ashore. Dropping like a sack of sand, Gerid met the sand with a `whuff'. He rolled onto his back on his own and spied the half naked woman with the green hair Pulling Jahkob ashore to lay beside him.
With a last look at Gerid, the woman waved a hand and leaped back into the breaking waves. He could have sworn that her large sparkling eyes were entirely blue. As her hair had swept back with a shake of her head, he had even believed that her ears appeared pointed.
Dismissing those as probable illusions of his exhaustion, he didn't even bother to think about the sight of her legs changing into a single tail-like fin. Gerid hardly remembered the woman after his eyes closed to sleep once again, but in the years to come he would often wonder who it had been who had saved the two of them.
Simon had taken the klereon, Sea Hammer, and a pair of his merchant ships on the run to Cadmene. He had barrels of flour and cracker corn meal in two of their holds, while a small supply of weapons and dozens of kegs of cracker corn ale sat in the klereon's hold.
If the rumors of the wars had been true, and he was sure that they were, all these items could sell well. They didn't truly need the gold he could get, but business would still be business. The people of both Cadmene and Marshalla could use the supplies and Simon needed a reason to go there. Everyone benefitted, so why not.
He looked to the northeast where the black clouds of an incredible storm spread across the sky. Turning to the captain of the Hammer, Simon asked, "Isn't that in the direction of the pirate isles?"
"Yes sir, and it looks like a dandy one too. Serves them right to be swept off their damnable isles for all the trouble that they've given everyone over the years."
Simon moved to the rail and sighed. "I just hope you weren't caught unawares by that storm, Gerid," he muttered worriedly. "You can only push your luck so far in this world, before the fates turn on you."
With a last look at the far off storm, Simon returned to his cabin below deck where he had left his book that he was only half through.
Chapter 36- Dangerous Mission
Lieutenant Baitrum, began his shift as the queen's guard captain by being called into his cousin's royal chamber. It was an odd occurrence, the first such since taking the duty, so the man was understandably curious about what the queen had felt was necessary to interrupt her usual routines and await his arrival. It was Laith who held the door open for him after calling inside for approval from their mistress.
"You called for me, your highness?" Baitrum asked as he bowed from the waist. His eyes widened slightly upon seeing Serra dressed in a blue, silk shift that fell to just above the girl's knees. He could see her right wrist covered by a winding coil of gold in the design of a scaled dragon and assumed that the left was covered similarly though that wrist was covered by the black material of a black robe thrown over her arm in readiness. A pair of soft doeskin boots, also dyed black, gripped her legs gently up to the calf. The outfit made the girl seem even more lovely in the morning light cast from the open window, but the man had to wonder what occasion had prompted this change, since the queen still wore only the robe she kept for her chamber.
Alyanna caught his look at the girl. The sides of her mouth turned up at the edges slightly in a smile before addressing her cousin. "Have the rebels been able to enter the sorcerer's caves to discover what they are up to yet, Baitrum?"
The man held back his surprise at the simple question. It was nothing that he would have suspected of the woman, even though she had used him to send a message to the rebels to try and find out what they could about the sorcerers days earlier. His eyes strayed worriedly to Serra, who was now sitting calmly on the foot of the bed, before answering the queen, "None have made it into any place of import and lived to return, but they have gathered that the sorcerers have developed some form of gate that can bring the gargoyles here. They also found out that it requires a sacrifice of blood, preferably that of a young woman, though it probably doesn't matter whether it is a woman or not."
The queen's face lost all traces of humor as she asked, "Who have the sorcerers killed that the rebels know this?"
Baitrum shrugged, "A couple of the local girls, virgins if I heard correctly, but others have disappeared when the ranks of the gargoyles have been added to in the past and not just women. A rumor says that several more women and children of Caldor and Cadmene have been taken there as well as a number of people from Sileoth after the war was completed. It matters little enough how many have died, because many more will be killed now since the war has not gone well lately."
Alyanna nodded. "My... husband," she made a grimace at the thought of Merrick, but continued, "does not seem to care who he harms in his quest to rule the world. Innocents or not, women, children or men, he'll kill whoever he deems necessary and probably a few extra for good measure, if he thinks that is what he needs or wants to do.
"But enough of what we cannot change, let me ask you something, cousin. Do you think that you can get somebody into the caverns in such a way as to be unseen? We have a need to know what is happening there."
Baitrum glanced at Serra again, but the girl was simply staring lazily out the window. A bird sat on a nearby castle wall just within view. The bright blue of the azure sparon lit up the gray stone with its mere existence. The guard returned his eyes to Alyanna and answered carefully, "Perhaps with a diversion after entering, I could get myself and another blade deep enough into the caverns to find the gate, but what would I be able to do after that, cousin?" Her cousin shrugged and awaited the reprisal he would receive for speaking his mind.
Alyanna surprised him with a simple nod. She allowed them all to sit in silence for several minutes, a silence broken only by the sounds of flapping as the bird took flight and fluttered near the window on its way into the sky. "Arrange what you will to get in, Baitrum, but get started immediately. Based on your previous reports, we know that the sorcerers’ caverns tend to be less watched in the early morning, even though there is supposed to be wizards inside at all times now. You and Serra will need to be inside well before noon and out again if you both wish to escape today."
Baitrum stood quietly biting his lip to prevent his speaking wrongly against the queen. His cousin read his mind apparently and answered his unspoken question, "Serra has become quite good at sneaking unnoticed past soldiers and remaining in the background when looked at almost directly. You'll be surprised at her skills. Now go quickly before the night's guard’s change for fresh men."
Baitrum knew better than to speak back now. It was already decided in the queen's mind. He may have become an advisor to his cousin, but Alyanna was still queen, even if she ruled in title more than substance. He turned and walked to the door without looking to see if Serra followed. The soldier knew that the handmaid would. The queen had ordered them both to go and the girl was faithful to a fault.
Taylin and the Cadmene Gellor stood as guards now outside Alyanna’s door. It wasn't Gellor's usual shift, so Baitrum knew that Alyanna had gone around his chain of command to arrange things. He saluted the two a brief wave and moved down the hallway. The sounds of his boots were soon the
only sounds he could hear as the two walked the stone ways of Grimnal Keep. The girl was so silent, he finally had to look over his shoulder to check if Serra was still behind him.
The girl smiled and seemed ready to giggle. Serra knew why he had turned, because she was that good. The black cape had been thrown over her shoulders now. The hood was thrown back so that the long blond tresses spilled over the ebony in strong contrast, but somehow she still tended to blend into her environment.
The two were nearly outside when Baitrum turned to find Serra mysteriously evaporated into nothingness. "Where?" he asked himself scratching his head. A shimmer of movement announced the revealing of Serra only five feet from him. "How?" he began in confusion.
Again the girl grinned and asked, "You didn't see me that time?"
A strange question, he thought, but answered carefully, "When I first turned I somehow missed you, but then you seemed to appear before me again. How did you do that?"
"A magic trick given to me by the princess, though I have no idea where she found it out."
Baitrum didn't even bother to ask further. Magic and his cousin both tended to confuse the man. He was too grounded in reality to understand either, instead Baitrum stepped out into the courtyard and walked across towards the stables.
Once there he spoke to a stable boy. As one of Baitrum's contacts to the rebel forces, the young man would assuredly have the news sent to those few that Baitrum would need to help them get inside.
The lieutenant smiled tightly to himself. Alyanna had not necessarily said that he should go along with the girl, but he believed that she had assumed as much. His feelings for Serra were still little more than friendship, he believed. They hardly knew each other, though Baitrum had to admit that he found her unusually attractive and enchanting. The beautiful young woman was still several years younger than he, but the soldier often wondered what she would say should he decide to evidence interest in her. Shaking his head at such an inconsequential thought when the guardsman should have been thinking through how he would tackle this latest challenge, one that the man had no idea of the intent or possible ending, Baitrum led his horse from its stall and began to saddle him.
The High King: A Tale of Alus Page 37
