"Steer the ship!" shouted Max. "I will survive."
The captain ignored the Ranger's words and managed to pull Max up behind the helm.
"Get a grip here, lad," advised the captain. "Steering won't do any of us any good right now. The winds and the waves are having their way with us."
Max stared at the wheel, which was spinning freely, as he gained his feet and grabbed the helm with both hands. He glanced back at the stern and saw the water far below it. The wave collapsed, and the ship shuddered as it smashed into the trough. Seconds later it was riding a crest again.
"She can't take much more of this," he yelled at the captain.
"Aye," nodded Captain Gomery. "A few more like that and she'll split in two. You best be praying to any of the gods you believe in, for surely there will never be a better time for it than now."
And suddenly, as if a prayer had been answered, the wind stopped. The wheel stopped spinning and the captain immediately grabbed hold of it.
"It's the eye, lads!" shouted the captain. "Give me what sail you can, and be quick about it. This won't last for long."
The sailors were up and moving before the captain's words had finished. Chanz cut his lifeline and raced to the helm.
"Did we get our lost sailor?" asked the captain.
"It was Keltin," nodded the mate. "He is alive, but barely. How much of an eye do we have?"
"See for yourself," the captain said as he pointed forward. "I'd wager less than an hour if I was a gambling man. I plan to cut that to even less if I can get some wind."
"You're rushing to get back into it?" asked Max.
"I'm in no hurry to go through that again," answered the captain, "but I don't want to catch the headwind that will surely come from the other side of the eye wall. I want to push westward as fast as we can. If we can hit the western edge of the eye wall, we'll still have strong winds, but they'll be off our starboard. If the southern edge of the eye wall hits us, we will be in for worse than we have already had."
"How can I help?" Max asked.
"Get Keltin down below," replied the captain. "Maybe Yolinda can do something for him."
The captain watched the Ranger go and then turned to the mate. "Make sure that all of the men use lifelines from the starboard rail for this next leg," he commanded. Get every sail up full, and check them for tears or damage. Report back immediately if you find anything at all. And coil up those loose lifelines," he shouted as Chanz headed forward. "I don't want them whipping around in the next leg of the storm."
The sails were quickly raised, but the wind in the eye was slack, and the Remora floated listlessly. The Knights of Alcea, the elves, and the Rangers came up on deck to stretch as much as to see what was going on. Only Yolinda remained below with the wounded sailor, and she soon joined the others.
"I understand you had a rough time of it," Mikal said softly to the captain.
"It was a bit rough," the captain sighed with exhaustion as he gazed at the southern eye wall, "but it's going to get a bit rougher. I was hoping to exit this calm a lot further north than this, but the winds won't accommodate me. I won't be trying to scare you, Mikal, but our exit from this eye is going to be a battle we wished we had avoided. Our sails will be worthless in a headwind and we will have no steerage at all."
Mikal turned and looked at Yolinda. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"Where exactly do you want to go, Captain?" asked Yolinda.
"I don't suppose you can change the weather, can you?" chuckled the captain. Captain Gomery knew that Yolinda was a mage, but he had no idea of the capabilities of magic.
"I cannot," smiled Yolinda.
"Well, seeing as you asked a question," shrugged the captain, "least I can do is answer. Our best exit from this storm is to cross the eye wall at its westernmost point. It will still be a nasty storm when we pass through the eye wall, but the winds out of the north will give us a chance to move westward as fast as we dare."
"I may be able to help," Yolinda said softly, "but I am hesitant to reveal my powers to anyone who does not already know about them."
"I think we can screen you," interjected Mikal.
"That will do as far as the sailors go," replied Yolinda, "but there are others unseen who may sense my use of magic."
"I think we must take that chance," retorted Mikal. "I have a lot of faith in Captain Gomery, and when he says that we would want to avoid the southern eye wall, I believe him. If you are sensed, we will deal with that later."
"Very well," agreed Yolinda. "Just tell when and where you want to go."
"Let's get a status on the state of the ship before we do anything," suggested the captain. "Once we enter the eye wall, there will be no time for second guessing."
After a few minutes, Chanz returned to the helm.
"All above deck is fine," he reported. "There were a couple of frayed lines, but they have been replaced. The problem we have is below. All of our water barrels are empty."
"What?" scowled the captain. "Didn't you ensure that the cargo was properly secured?"
"I did, Captain," frowned the mate. "Every one of those barrels was lashed in place. I am sure of it."
"Are they still lashed in place?" asked Mikal.
"No," Chanz replied. "It is as if they never were lashed down in the first place. There are no broken lines. There are no lines at all. But I swear that I checked them before we left the island."
The captain glared at Chanz for a brief moment and then looked at Mikal questioningly. "Other than what is in the galley," he said softly, "we are out of fresh water."
"Karl," Mikal called as he turned around to face the passengers. "I have a task that needs prompt attention."
Karl ran to the helm and stood before Mikal.
"I need all of the water barrels in the hold brought up on deck," ordered Mikal. "Lash them to the rails and leave off the lids."
"Put most of them along the port rail," interjected the captain as he nodded in agreement of the plan. "We are likely to get a bit of salt water over the starboard rail as we leave this storm."
"Get the Rangers and the elves to help," advised Mikal. "We need them all up here and secured as quickly as possible."
"The sailors?" asked Karl.
"No," the captain shook his head. "They will need their strength for the coming storm."
"But Tedi can help you as well," stated Mikal.
Karl nodded and headed back to the group standing in the stern of the ship. Chanz headed forward again to see to the crew.
"What do you make of this?" asked Mikal.
"Chanz is an honest lad," frowned the captain. "If he failed in his duties, I expect that he would admit it."
"Then we have a saboteur on board?" asked Mikal.
"So it would seem," nodded the captain.
"All the more important to keep our identities and abilities secret," Yolinda said softly.
"I suggested that because of the Zaran's capabilities at mind magic," frowned Mikal. "I surely did not expect to be infiltrated."
"Well," mused the captain, "it was a wise decision in any event. I'm trying to understand when this could have happened. Merely unlashing the barrels would not deplete our water supply, and no one could have known we would hit such a powerful storm."
"How about during the storm?" asked Mikal.
"The men were pretty busy during the storm," replied Captain Gomery, "besides, other sailors would see the culprit entering the hold."
"Unless they were all watching the effort to recover Keltin from the sea," offered Yolinda.
"I couldn't see from here," the captain shook his head. "I suppose that is possible."
The group lapsed into silence as the water barrels were brought on deck and secured. Chanz passed by and set the mizzen out full and then returned to the helm. He gazed at the approaching western eye wall and sighed heavily.
"We are as ready as we can be," he reported.
"Almost," replied Captain Gomery. "When our passe
ngers are done with the barrels, close the hatch and prepare the crew for winds from the starboard beam. The winds will be most severe in the beginning, so make sure every lifeline is secure. I don't want another sailor overboard."
"Starboard, Captain?" asked Chanz.
"Aye, Chanz," smiled the captain. "I can almost feel a breeze coming on that will let us sail further west. Not to worry your head any. Just follow my orders and see that the men are ready."
Chanz frowned, but he nodded. "Aye, Captain. Your orders will be carried out."
Karl and the others finished lashing the barrels and gathered at the stern of the ship. Chanz moved forward to secure the hatch and issue the captain's orders.
"Now would be a good time," the captain said softly as he glanced to the south. The eye wall was so close that it looked like giant wall of black extending up over the ship into the sky. The breeze had indeed begun to pick up, but it was a wind out of the east. "In fact," he continued, "it's now or never."
Mikal and Yolinda headed astern, and Mikal ordered Natia, and the elves below. The Rangers and the male Knights of Alcea formed a shield with their bodies, blocking sight of Yolinda from the rest of the ship. Yolinda cast her spell and began gathering the winds to her. She had never cast the spell in the eye of a storm before, and it surprised her that the wind was heavy with water. It took more energy and concentration to move the heavy air, and even more to counteract the force of the growing west winds.
For several minutes, Yolinda concentrated on the spell, but nothing appeared to be happening. Then slowly the sails began to fill, and the captain felt pressure on the wheel. The ship moved slowly at first, but the captain steered away from the eye wall and ship began to pick up speed. Cheers erupted from the crew when the sails snapped full.
Captain Gomery shouted his orders to Chanz, and the mate relayed them as the Remora sped away from the southern eye wall. The captain took the ship deep into the center of the eye before turning and heading for the western eye wall. Mikal watched as the western eye wall grew large before the ship.
"How long will the winds keep up once you have halted the spell?" he asked Yolinda.
"They will begin to taper off quickly, but not steeply," she replied. "There will be plenty of time for me to get below before we hit the eye wall."
"That is what I wanted to know," smiled Mikal.
"Actually," Yolinda said, "I no longer need to be shielded. There is nothing that they can see now. Why not send the others below?"
"I will stay with you," Mikal replied as he waved the others to get below.
The others moved through the hatchway and disappeared. Yolinda looped one arm through Mikal's as if they were on deck for a stroll. As the ship neared the eye wall, she led Mikal towards the hatchway. The captain nodded and waved, indicating he had enough wind to see the ship into the eye wall where he wanted to be. Yolinda dropped the spell, and they climbed down the stairs to safety.
The Remora was severely buffeted by the strong winds as it sailed through the eye wall, but the captain and crew were ready for it. They used the sails expertly to put as much distance behind them and the eye as they could, and by the time the winds shifted to out of the northwest, the gusts were considerably weaker.
* * *
The western portion of the storm had not been particularly wet, and the barrels had not collected a great deal of water. The crew was aware of the shortage and some of them began to grumble about the ill-fated voyage. The captain had allowed rations of ale to ease the tempers, but there was a limit as to how far that would go without being excessive. Three days past the storm, tempers flared.
"Lanoirian sailors are about as good as Lanoirian soldiers," Tyroma taunted Barakis, "and we know what happened to them in the last war."
"Back off," Keltin advised strongly. "The war doesn't have anything to do with anything."
"So says the sailor who can't even manage to stay onboard the ship," snapped Tyroma. "It was Cordonians that hauled your sorry butt back over the rail."
"Stay out of this, Keltin," Barakis said. "I don't need any help to fend off a drunken Cordonian."
"Why don't you all knock it off," interjected Feldskar. "This voyage is rough enough without spilling each other's blood."
"You're free to go elsewhere, Feldskar," retorted Loman. "The Lanoirian started it, and Tyroma is going to finish it."
Chanz had been in the galley. He arrived on deck to hear the arguments flying about, and he started to head towards the bow to put an end to it.
"Chanz," called Captain Gomery from the helm, "ask Mikal if he could step up on deck for a moment."
Chanz frowned in confusion at the order. He thought for a moment that the captain was not aware of the trouble brewing at the bow, but then he saw the captain grin broadly.
"And hurry back to take a turn at the helm," the captain added with a smile. "I need a short break."
Chanz shrugged and raced through the hatchway. He appeared just a moment later with Mikal at his heels. He immediately replaced the captain at the helm and Mikal looked questioningly at the captain until he heard the taunts from the bow.
"I think it is time for that lesson you spoke of," chuckled the captain.
Mikal nodded silently and started walking forward along the starboard rail. The captain crossed the deck to the port rail and let the Knight of Alcea get well ahead of him. He wanted to observe, not interrupt the lesson. Mikal walked slowly, listening to what was going on before getting into the middle of it.
"Why don't you just shut it," snarled Barakis. "If you had any sense at all, you would know that you can't handle your drink."
"I can drink far more than you can," Tyroma spat back.
"Then your mother raised a fool for a son," retorted Barakis, "assuming that you have a mother. Maybe it was a goat that brought you into this world."
"Don't you talk about my mother," snarled Tyroma as a knife appeared in his hand. "You take that back or your guts will be feeding the fishes."
Barakis slid his own knife out its sheath and bared his teeth. "You just made your last mistake, Tyroma. No one pulls a knife on me."
Mikal walked directly between the two feuding sailors and faced Barakis.
"Sheath that knife," he said with a voice of authority.
Barakis opened his mouth to speak, but Mikal didn't give him the chance.
"Sheath it!" he said louder.
The sailors looked at Mikal as if he was crazy. All the while he was confronting Barakis, his back was turned to Tyroma, and the Cordonian's knife was only inches away from Mikal's back. Barakis swallowed hard and nodded ever so slightly, but he sheathed his knife. Mikal turned around and faced Tyroma.
"You have had too much to drink," growled Mikal as he stared into Tyroma's eyes. "Sheath your knife."
"This isn't your concern," scowled Tyroma. "This is between me and the lousy Lanoirian."
"I said to sheath it," Mikal repeated sternly.
"Step aside and…" Tyroma began, but he never finished the sentence.
Mikal's left hand shot up and batted the Tyroma's knife arm out of the way. He stepped forward and grasped the Cordonian's tunic and lifted the man off the deck. With a single stride forward, he held the sailor over the side of the ship. Tyroma's eyes grew large, and he started to bring the knife towards Mikal's arm.
"You had best think hard about the consequences of your actions, sailor," scowled Mikal. "You cut my arm and my fist opens. We all know where that will leave you."
Tyroma glanced down at the waves below his feet, and suddenly he wasn't quite as drunk as he had been before.
"Drop the knife," ordered Mikal.
Tyroma tried to sheath the knife, but Mikal shook his head.
"The time to sheath it was when I asked you to," said Mikal. "Say goodbye to it and drop it in the sea."
Tyroma hesitated and Mikal leaned further over the rail. Tyroma's resistance fled, and he dropped the knife into the water. Mikal pulled the man back over the rail a
nd set him down on the deck. Slowly he released his grip on the Cordonian.
"There is to be no fighting on this ship," Mikal said to all of the sailors. "We have plenty of things to worry about without taunting each other. If you have nothing nice to say to one another, keep your mouths shut. If you feel the need to fight with someone, come see me."
Mikal turned and met the gaze of each man there. Most of them turned away from his gaze and cast their eyes downward.
"Look," Mikal said in a softer tone, "I know that this voyage is a testing time for all of us. You are here because each of you is good at what you do. But you are going to have to be better than merely good to survive this journey. You are going to have to depend upon each other to survive. Think about that for a moment. The men you are taunting today may very well hold your life in their hands tomorrow. Keltin, you know exactly what I am talking about. If it hadn't been for your shipmates, you wouldn't be here today. Can any of you truly afford to make enemies out of those who might save you tomorrow?"
Several of the sailors murmured in agreement, but not all of them. Mikal knew it would take more than one talk to straighten out the hostilities that had been festering.
"I would prefer that each of you understands the need to befriend each other," Mikal continued, "but I can't force you to be reasonable. What I can offer though is an enticement to at least get along with each other. You have seen my men practicing on deck each morning. Anyone of you who is itching for a fight will be invited to spar with them. And the invitation will be mandatory. Is that clear enough for all of you?"
The men nodded silently, but Mikal shook his head. "I don't think I heard your reply."
Each man verbally agreed, although a few of them mumbled it unenthusiastically. Mikal nodded in satisfaction and turned towards the stern. He heard a few grumbles behind his back, but less than he had expected. When he reached the helm, the captain was waiting for him.
"And here I thought you might maim the crew," chuckled Captain Gomery. "That was very well done. I wish I had the strength to do such a trick myself."
Final Voyage of the Remora Page 6
