Initially, no one would even look him in the eye, let alone speak. But as the day wore on the men relaxed and accepted his help without hesitation. In fact, Gewey’s tremendous strength had some sailors calling him over to assist them with particularly difficult tasks. This did not sit well with the chief mate, but he was not about to voice his displeasure. Not after Gewey’s recent display of power.
Linis joined him about midday. Dina was still mightily displeased with her mother, and it was only after several outbursts at Linis, who simply lowered his head and nodded while trying not to smile, that she eventually calmed herself down. Her mother had insisted on helping the ship’s cook, so Dina decided to join her in the galley. By mid-afternoon, an aroma was drifting up on deck that had the men’s mouths watering and eager for the evening meal. When the time arrived, they jostled roughly for position in the line forming below deck. Crew manners were usually crude at best, but one firm look from Nahali soon had the desired effect. No one was going to risk upsetting the woman responsible for such delicious new mealtime offerings.
After dinner, Gewey took some time to relax at the stern and watch the sun ease its way to the horizon.
“This is a hard life,” said a gruff voice behind him.
Gewey looked over his shoulder to see Captain Carnwell standing there. He was wearing a long brown coat and worn black trousers. His unruly salt and pepper hair blew wildly in the stiff breeze. His dark eyes were unyielding and told of a man who had lived through many hardships and dangers.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Gewey said unconvincingly. He knew the officer was referring to his intervention with the chief mate. “But beating a man bloody will never inspire him to do better.”
“I’ve been sailing for forty years,” he shot back, not in the least intimidated by Gewey’s power. “I do know how to run my ship…and my crew. And I would thank you not to interfere.”
Gewey couldn’t help but respect Carnwell for having the nerve to confront him. “I understand your position, but I refuse to allow senseless violence.”
The captain sneered. “After the many men that Saraf has taken to the depths, I find it odd you would be so squeamish about such things.”
This sparked a moment of anger in Gewey that he quickly forced back. “I am not Saraf. And if I were, I would tell you that I have nothing to do with the death of sailors. The gods are not what you think them to be. They do not choose men’s fates.”
Carnwell huffed a disdainful chuckle. “Then what good are they?”
Gewey turned, not knowing what to say next. But the captain was already walking away.
What good are they? The words repeated in his mind, again and again.
“Now that’s a good question,” he said out loud to himself.
Just then a strong wind blew in from the north, causing the ship to roll and the sails to snap tight. Gewey looked skyward. A thunderhead was looming toward them. On the deck he could hear orders being shouted and the ship’s bell ringing repeatedly. Another gust of wind blew in, this time with even more severe force.
The chief mate bounded up the stairs to the platform where Gewey was now holding on tight to the railing, his expert sea legs unaffected by the ship’s increasing instability. “You should get below,” he shouted.
“I can help,” he called back.
The mate stared at Gewey, then threw up his hands. “Then get to it! Help secure the deck.”
Gewey sprang into action, almost knocking the man over as he passed by. From the stories the elves had told him, storms at sea could come up without warning and smash a ship to splinters in mere minutes.
Lightning split the sky, and very soon giant waves were tossing the ship about like a child’s toy. Swells broke over the bow, soaking both the deck and the crew. In only a few minutes the sky was pitch black, the massive storm clouds appearing momentarily like vicious behemoths with each new flash of lightning, then vanishing once more into the blackness.
The captain was on a platform atop the main cabin, hands gripping the wheel tightly while struggling to keep the ship’s bow turned into the swells. He spotted Gewey just as he was seizing a rope that had come loose from the main mast.
“Can't you do anything?” the captain yelled, sneering and glancing up at the sky.
Only Gewey’s enhanced senses made him able to hear the captain’s words over the clamor of the storm. He secured the rope and then stumbled to the port railing.
He could feel Kaylia sending him encouragement and strength. She was below helping Weila, Linis, Dina, and Nahali, all of who knew nothing of ships or sailing, to secure the cargo and galley.
Several more flashes of lightning revealed the rest of the fleet bobbing in and out of view. They were being scattered further and further apart, and Gewey could feel the dread and anxiety of the men on board as the storm continued to build in strength. The swells were rising ever higher. Some were already half as tall as the ship’s main mast.
He drew in the flow of air and water, allowing it to rage through him. He could feel the unrelenting power of the storm surging in all directions. His body rose skyward until he was well above the main mast. At first he was uncertain how to proceed. Causing wind to blow or water to move was one thing. This though was vast and beyond his comprehension.
At first he tried to use the flow of air to force the storm into retreat, but it was like trying to resist an incoming tide by standing in the surf. Any column of air he created was simply blown back in the direction it had come as the tempest enveloped it. He widened his control to shield the length of the ship, and for a moment this seemed to be working. The wind lessened. But then a furious blast, so strong that it felt as if it had spawned from the Creator herself, easily overcame his latest efforts. The shield vanished and the gale blew even harder, as if enraged by Gewey’s attempts to control its power.
Join with it. A whisper in the back of his mind eased its way into his consciousness. Become as one.
The voice alarmed him for a moment, but the creaking timbers and frightened sailors drew his attention. His vision penetrated the darkness and he could see that one of the other vessels had already capsized. Those that were not trapped within the ship were clinging desperately to its hull. He knew that the ship would be lost and all aboard likely perish if he didn’t act quickly.
In one great effort he combined air and water in order to right the vessel. The ship heaved and rolled, and slowly the edge of the deck became visible again. The sailors clinging to the hull scrambled to grab at the railing, but most were thrown into the sea long before they could reach it. Gewey could see them desperately thrashing about in the waves.
As soon as the ship was fully righted he drew away the water on board and then, one-by-one, lifted the drowning crewmen back onto the deck.
A feeling of satisfaction and pride took hold of him. But this was short lived. Four other ships were also in serious trouble. He needed to find a way to deal with the storm quickly or hundreds of people would die.
Become one. The voice echoed in Gewey’s mind again, and this time he knew who it was and it filled him with dread.
“Melek,” he muttered.
Your flesh is unimportant. Only your spirit matters.
Melek or not, he had to do something. Summoning all of his concentration, Gewey allowed his spirit to drift out into the tempest. The complexity of nature’s raw power was unfathomable. The flow that saturated it was disobedient and wild. He pushed with all his power, yet even now his efforts were achieving nothing.
Become the storm. Do not contain your spirit. Allow it to grow.
All at once, Gewey understood. The ‘body’ he saw himself in when his spirit traveled was not real. It was a creation of his mind. Jubilation washed over him as he let go, allowing himself to spread out in all directions at the same time. Instantly, he was larger than the storm. At first it was alarming. His vision expanded to encompass mile upon mile of ocean and sky. The entire fleet was laid out before him. He was below t
he clouds, and yet at the same time, above them.
Calming his nerves, he concentrated on the storm. Suddenly, its complexity was diminished and he could grasp its every movement. He wrapped himself around it and drew its power within his own. And, just as Melek had told him, he became the storm. It was not the mindless rage he would have imagined. Instead, it was a flawless power, devoid of passion and yet full of intent. It existed simply to exist. There was no malice toward those who were unfortunate enough to be in its path. But neither was there love or benevolence.
It was simple to assert his will, because there was now nothing to oppose him. Gradually the wind died and the seas calmed. He dispersed the clouds until they were an invisible mist.
As Gewey’s spirit withdrew and condensed he heard a cacophony of cheers rising from the deck of his ship, as well as cries of relief and praises to the gods from the rest of the fleet.
During the moments his body drifted back onto the deck he could feel the presence of Melek ever more keenly.
There is so much more, Darshan. Wonders such as you have never dreamed.
And then…he was gone.
Linis, Dina and Kaylia were standing a few feet behind him. Linis had the look of approval splashed across his face. Dina and Kaylia…worry.
“That was magnificent,” Linis cried joyously. “I had never imagined such a thing possible.”
Gewey glanced at Kaylia. He was uncertain how to feel. He had saved lives, but only with the help of a bitter enemy. He forced a thin smile. “Neither had I,” he told Linis.
The crew were still shouting their praises and thanks. The name Darshan rose like the storm he had just banished. In the midst of all this, a sudden fatigue shot through him; he stumbled with the sway of the ship. Kaylia rushed to his side and caught his arm.
“It seems that took rather a lot out of me,” he said with a chuckle.
“I don’t doubt it,” said Dina, her eyes narrow and unblinking.
Linis grabbed her playfully around her waist and pulled her to him. “Come, my love. Let us stroll to the bow and bask in the air of this clear night.”
Dina looked at him sideways, at first resistant to his hold on her. But then she relaxed and allowed him to lead her away.
“She worries whether you can control such power,” said Kaylia. Pulling Gewey's arm over her shoulder, she walked him toward the main cabin door.
Gewey looked back. Linis was holding Dina in his arms and whispering into her ear. Her eyes softened and a sweet smile crept its way to the corners of her mouth.
“Should I speak to her?” asked Gewey.
“No,” Kaylia replied. “Her fears will fade in due course. Don’t forget that she is a historian. If history tells us anything, it is that power corrupts, and that those who wield it cannot be trusted. It will take time for her to know that you are different.”
Just before they stepped inside, the captain called down from above. Gewey stepped back until he could see the man. His hands were draped over the wheel pegs, his clothes and hair still drenched from the storm.
“I asked you what the gods are good for,” he shouted, letting out a good-natured laugh. “And my word, you showed me well enough.”
Gewey smiled and gave him an appreciative nod, but other than that he felt uncertain of how to respond.
“All praise Darshan,” shouted a crewman. “God of the wind and skies.”
Together, the rest of the crew repeated this chant, as if saying a prayer. Gewey glanced to the bow. Dina’s worried look had returned. Linis was rubbing the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.
“Let’s get inside,” said Kaylia.
Gewey allowed himself to be led on. Once back in their quarters, Kaylia helped him to undress and get into bed.
“And what do you think?” he asked. “Can I wield such power and not be corrupted?”
Kaylia thought for a moment and then nodded. “It was wondrous. And yet it was startling. As you spread your spirit out I could feel a fire within you come to life – a fire that I have not felt before. It was at the same time both beautiful and terrible. But I did not fear it.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to accomplish it without Melek's help,” Gewey told her.
She cocked her head and her eyes narrowed. “I did not feel his presence. How did he help?”
Gewey recounted the experience.
She sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you think perhaps Melek caused the storm to test you?”
Gewey considered this. “It’s possible. And if so, his power is far greater than mine. To do such a thing from Althetas…”
His vision blurred and he could feel fatigue pressing in.
“There is no use worrying,” said Kaylia. “Rest now. I will join you shortly.”
With that, she got up and left the cabin.
Sleep found Gewey quickly. And this time it was restful and pleasant. Somehow he knew that Melek, whatever his plans and schemes, would wait until he arrived in Althetas before unleashing any more mischief. The storm had been of his making. Of that, Gewey was now certain.
He also felt certain that Melek was still hoping they would join together in his cause.
Chapter 22
Lee sat in the upstairs parlor of the manor gazing through tear filled eyes at his wife. She had been silent on the way there, and he had not pressed her to speak. That she was walking beside him was a miracle in itself, and far more than he could have hoped for. Yet he knew that if it was a miracle, it was not a miracle from the gods. This miracle came from a different, far more treacherous source. But at that very moment, he didn’t care.
“Don’t weep, my love,” said Penelope. Her voice was soft music on a spring wind. Her tender smile a jewel sparkling in the darkness.
Lee wiped at his tears, at the same time swallowing away the lump in his throat that was choking off his words. “Why - why has he sent you to me?”
“To give you a message,” she replied. Her smile remained in place, yet bore a hint of the pain she felt at seeing her husband so conflicted. “And to give us both a gift.”
A chill gripped Lee’s heart. He knew the game that was being played. And yet he cared only that she was close to him. “Please, my love. I know you are his servant. You must keep his message and his gift. I cannot bow to his will.”
“He does not wish for that,” she said, reaching over and taking hold of his hand. The warmth of her touch brought fresh tears spilling down Lee’s face. “He asks only that you withdraw. He wants you to take Jacob and me to the desert where we can live in peace. Once settled, we should stay there until the war is over.”
She could see the doubt in his eyes. “Yes, I am his servant,” she continued. “I cannot change that. And I cannot say anything other than what I have been told. This you knew already. But make no mistake of my intent. I was granted this gift in spite of my disloyalty.”
Lee squeezed her hand and knelt before her. “Don’t you see? He only wishes for me to no longer aid his enemy. He sees me as a threat and wishes to weaken Gewey. He cares nothing for our happiness.”
Penelope laughed, though it was kind rather than mocking. “Of course he doesn’t. But he does want allies once this war is done.”
“You can’t think that I would–”
Penelope put her finger to his lips to silence him. “Gewey Stedding will die and this world will burn. When that happens, I would have you alive and with me. I would see our son given the chance for a family of his own one day.”
“As would I,” agreed Lee. “But I think you underestimate Gewey.” He tried to sound resolved, but even though he knew this to be a ploy, he could feel weakness and doubt creeping into his heart. The Dark Knight had made this offer before, and it had taken all of his strength to refuse. He had already watched Penelope die once, and didn’t think he could go through the terrible pain of that again. This time the enemy had the upper hand.
“The Reborn King has more power than you or Gewey Stedding realize,” she countered
. “The Sword of Truth is not his only source. Please believe it when I say that it is me telling you this. Not him. I cannot say more, but I swear I speak the truth.”
Lee noticed a small twitch of pain in her cheek. “I do believe you. And I won’t ask you to tell me things you are forbidden to say. But even if it’s true that Gewey is doomed, what’s to stop your master from killing us once the war is over?”
Penelope let out a soft laugh. “Nothing. But that is a risk I’m prepared to take if it will reunite us – even if only for a short while.”
The words were barely out of her mouth when the door burst open. A broadly grinning Jacob appeared in the doorway. “I was told you were home. And in the company of a woma…”
His voice trailed off and the smile vanished. “Mother?”
Penelope slowly stood up, her hands covering her mouth to hold back the sobs. She cleared her throat, wiped her eyes and opened her arms wide, but he showed no signs of coming to her. Eventually, she sat back down again.
Her voice was quiet. “Won’t you join us, Jacob? Please.”
He remained where he was for several more seconds before making his way across the room with tentative steps and sitting on the couch beside her.
She reached out to embrace him, but he leaned away.
“I understand,” she said, her voice now barely above a whisper.
Lee quickly explained to his son what had been said. Once he was finished, Penelope placed her hand on top of Jacob’s. This time he permitted her touch.
“Am I to take it that you are considering this offer?” Jacob asked.
“I don’t know what to do, son,” admitted Lee. “I truly don’t.”
“So you really are considering abandoning all of your friends, and the cause they’ve been fighting and dying for?” Jacob’s tone was accusing. He pulled his hand free, deliberately avoiding looking at his mother while doing so. “You said yourself that she is dead. And even if she did live, it would only be as a slave to our enemy.”
The Godling Chronicles:Book 05 - Madness of the Fallen Page 25
