“I will, my dear,” came a muted cry beyond the desperate mass.
“Lower away!”
The boat dropped swiftly to the water and struck with a resounding smack.
“Fend off, you lubbers!” came the cry from above. “Hold her steady, now! I will send them down two at a time on the falls!” The big man looped a rope around his powerful forearm and pulled with all his might while the seaman pushed against the hull with an oar.
“Let ’em come!”
The girl gave voice to such a sudden, piercing, gut-wrenching shriek of terror that for an instant, in spite of their own fear, everyone froze to look. A massive cavern had opened before them, wide enough to swallow half the ship. Amid a chorus of muted screams, it clamped down on the settling bow with a thunderous, rending crash. The mainmast toppled forward and fell against the darkened mass. More screams came when the mizzenmast also thundered down upon the horrified humanity on the quarterdeck.
“Master Kearley!”
With a terrible grinding, crunching sound, the titanic jaws gaped open and closed once more on the pulverized forward section of the ship. Far in the distance, a monumental explosive splash of mighty flukes crashed down and with a convulsive jerk, the entire ship lurched bodily away from where the tiny boat bobbed in the choppy sea.
“Master Kearley!” shrieked the girl with a desolate, perfect anguish while the rest of the ship was shattered by the impossible strength of the beast. The boiler burst with a thunderclap roar and a swirling, scalding gout of steam. Further enraged by the discomfort this might have caused, the leviathan redoubled its attack. Terrible screams and splintering timbers filled the night, but soon all that remained was the surging sound of the agitated sea.
The seaman who brought the muskets had gone over the side, so there was no hope for him. The girl collapsed into the bottom of the boat and wept with disconsolate abandon. For a while, the big man could do nothing except stare into the empty, endless night. Occasionally, his gaze fell upon the ragged, pulsing stump of his left arm. The rest of it had been snatched away so suddenly and with such force that all he remembered feeling was a tug and a pop. Now his life was coursing into the sea and he already felt the loss. Shaking himself, he snatched his belt from his waist and wound it tightly around the stump. Shortly, the cascade reduced to a trickle, but, light-headed, he sat heavily in the boat and looked down at the sobbing girl.
“Little miss,” he croaked, and the girl slowly raised her sodden eyes to regard him. “Your ladyship . . . I truly hate to impose, but if ye could see clear to bind me a bit better, I might be of more use to ye.”
Seeing his terrible wound, the girl recoiled for an instant, but then scrambled lightly across the seats to his side.
“I will do what I may,” she assured him bravely through her tears, “but I am no surgeon.”
“That’s a fact,” he agreed with a wan smile, “but I’ve no doubt ye could be if ye wished.” As gently as she could, the girl tightened the tourniquet and then rummaged for something to use as a bandage. She finally settled for the sleeve on his other arm.
“They will search for us, won’t they?” she asked while she worked.
“Of course they will, lass.”
“Will they find us?”
The big man’s smile faded completely and he gazed out at the dark, endless swells. They’d lost contact with their consorts some nights back, but that happened all the time. The other two ships wouldn’t grow concerned until several days after they reached the factory dock and the doomed ship and her important cargo still had not arrived. They’d traveled only half the distance to their destination, so it would be weeks before they were considered overdue. Months before the news reached home and a search was mounted. The wind and current would drive them quickly westward, far beyond the lanes traveled by men.
He blinked and then looked down into the huge, trusting eyes that seemed to pierce his calloused soul.
“Of course they will, Your Highness.”
Crusade Page 45
