Yulver was still inspecting the damage to his ship. The starboard side of the ship was almost destroyed. The oar locks were all busted, and how those sailors kept their oars working Lorik had no idea. The mast had smashed through the railing on the starboard side as well. There was a long, ragged hole in the deck, but luckily it was all above the waterline. The hold still had water sloshing about, but Lorik didn’t know if that was just from the waves breaking over the ship or if they were taking on water from a hole in the hull.
When Yulver returned to the steering oar he looked grave.
“What’s wrong?” Lorik asked.
“Everything,” the sea captain said. “We’re in a bad way. I don’t think I’ve ever seen things this bad.”
“The storm?”
“No, the storm is passing. We should be in calmer waters in a few hours. Calm enough that we can take turns getting a bit of rest. The bad thing is not knowing how our rations are doing. We can’t risk moving the water barrels up to the deck, at least not until the waves calm down, but with those casks soaking in seawater, there’s almost no chance our supplies won’t be compromised.”
“What do you mean?” Lorik asked.
“I mean the saltwater will ruin our fresh water. We’ll have nothing to drink. And without some break in this cloud cover, I have no way to know where to go. Not to mention we don’t have a sail. It could take days of constant rowing to get back to land under the best conditions.”
“I don’t like your tone,” Lorik said.
“I don’t like it either,” Yulver agreed. “But I won’t pretend we’re not in a bad spot.”
“So what do we do?”
“We keep sailing, that’s all we can do. We pick a direction and hope for the best.”
“What direction do you suggest?” Lorik asked.
“Well, the storm is behind us. It may take us longer to reach calm seas, but I don’t think we have a choice. We have to turn around.”
They waited until they crested a wave and then threw themselves into the steering oar. The oar fought back. Lorik thought the wooden oar was difficult to control when he was fighting just to keep the ship moving forward, but turning the vessel was even more arduous, and as they rose up on the next wave the ship tilted to port so far that everyone was forced to grab onto anything sturdy to keep from falling into the water. Lorik was sure they were going to roll over, but at the last possible second, the ship crested the wave and tilted back upright.
There were screams of panic, but no one was lost, and by the time the next wave lifted them up they were turned sufficiently to ride it out without the threat of being rolled. Lorik and Yulver straightened the steering oar, both men breathing heavily. Lorik’s mouth was dry, and swallowing was difficult. His tongue felt swollen and he couldn’t keep himself from gnawing at it involuntarily.
“Go see to your people,” Yulver told Lorik. “I’ll take over here.”
Lorik nodded and stumbled away. His legs felt like huge sacks of rice. His back ached and he rubbed his hands together in hopes of warming them a little. His first stop was to talk to Stone.
“Are you guys okay?” Lorik asked.
“We’re great,” Stone said sarcastically. “Having the time of our lives. Don’t let me forget to thank you for this wonderful trip when we get back to shore.”
“I don’t control the weather,” Lorik said. “Besides, you lived through it. Don’t be such a baby.”
“How long until we reach shore?” Vera asked.
“We don’t know,” Lorik told her as he wiped the rain from his face and then sucked the water from his hand. It was salty, but he could feel his body craving more. “Yulver is hoping the seas will calm down in another hour or two.”
“I hope so. These men need more help than I can give them.”
Lorik turned to the men still bailing out the ship. Everyone was working again now that there was enough light to see by.
“Why did the captain turn the ship around?” one of the men asked.
“It’s our best chance of getting back to shore,” Lorik said. “How’s the water level?”
“Holding steady at the moment. It’s hard to tell for sure with the ship moving so much.”
“Here, take a break and let me have a turn.”
Lorik dropped down into the hold. He could stand up in the small space and see onto the deck. His back sent icy daggers across his waist as he bent over and then straightened again. The bucket seemed twice as heavy as it had before. Stone appeared over the edge of the hold, replacing the volunteer who had been there a moment ago.
“That was one hell of ride,” Stone said. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire, huh?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Lorik agreed. “I’ve seen massive storms living in Hassell Point. Some even tore the town to pieces, but that was the first time I’ve been at sea during one.”
“I hope it’s my last,” Stone said. “Give me a horse or even just let me walk. I’ll never complain again.”
“I know what you mean, but it’s a miracle we’re still alive. I can’t believe we weren’t smashed to pieces on the rocks in the Sailor’s Graveyard.”
“Nor can I,” Stone said, as he lifted the bucket of water from Lorik and handed it to the next man.
The seas slowly calmed over the next several hours, but the sky refused to clear. Shortly after midday Yulver ordered their food supplies to be lifted up out of the hold. There was still a steady rain falling, but the waves were small enough that they weren’t crashing over the sides of the ship.
There were four large casks of water in the hold. One was nearly empty and the water inside was salty. They cracked open the next two and found that both were contaminated with seawater.
“How does this happen?” Lorik asked Yulver, struggling to keep fear out of his voice.
“The salt water seeps through the wood,” Yulver explained. “It only takes a tiny bit to ruin a whole cask.”
“So what do we do if they’re all ruined?”
“We’re doing all we can now,” Yulver said. “My men are dumping the ruined water overboard. They’ll scrub the barrels with rainwater and we’ll have to hope that the rain keeps falling and gives us enough water to get back to shore.”
“It sounds like a lot of hoping,” Lorik said.
“It is. We’ll have to ration whatever we get. It’s not going to be a pleasure cruise.”
The rain continued to fall for the next few hours. Everyone was cold and miserable, but at least they were collecting water. They slept in shifts. Lorik and Stone continued to row while the sailors and volunteers slept. The ship was still taking on water, but the rate of incoming water had slowed down. Yulver remained at the helm, the very picture of a seasoned sea captain. Lorik kept his head down and focused on rowing in time with Stone. They were both exhausted and their efforts produced very little in the way of forward motion, but it was enough to allow Yulver to steer the ship.
“How do we know we aren’t just rowing around in circles?” Stone asked in a quiet voice.
“I don’t know, but I trust Yulver. He’s been sailing his whole life.”
“I have to admit, I never thought this is how it would end. I don’t know what I’ll do if Vera doesn’t make it.”
“She’s going to make it,” Lorik said. “We’re all going to make it.”
“There’s that confidence I remember,” Stone said. “You have a knack for staying positive no matter how bad the circumstances get.”
Lorik just smiled, knowing that his outward demeanor didn’t match his inward feelings at all. He felt like lying down and going to sleep. He didn’t care if he died; he just wanted to rest. But there was something inside him that simply refused to give up. After several hours, Yulver woke his crew and set them to work rowing the boat. Lorik and Stone bailed water from the hold for nearly an hour. They each got a small cup of rainwater to quench what was becoming an unbearable thirst. Then they stretched out on either side of
Vera and fell asleep.
It was only the extreme fatigue that allowed anyone to sleep in the rain. The sailors were accustomed to wet conditions, but the others weren’t. When Lorik woke up several hours later he was stiff and tired. The rain was still falling softly, and he slowly climbed to his feet. The sun was setting behind a thick bank of clouds, but there was no land in sight.
“No sign of shore?” Lorik asked Yulver, who was back at the steering oar.
“No,” he said grimly.
“At least we still have rainwater,” Lorik said, rubbing his wet arms to try and warm himself a little. His teeth were chattering and he couldn’t stop shivering. “Can I have a drink?”
“No,” Yulver said.
Lorik wanted to curse. He wanted to tell Yulver that he could damn well drink what he wanted, whenever he wanted, but he knew that was selfish and foolish. He looked into one of the water barrels. It looked like it had less than before he fell asleep.
“It’s not accumulating fast enough,” Yulver explained.
Lorik put the collar of his shirt into his mouth and sucked the water out of the drenched cloth. It was salty and he knew it wasn’t helping, but it lifted his spirits.
“We’ll survive,” he said.
“I hope you’re right,” Yulver said as the last of the weak sunlight vanished. “I hope to all the gods you’re right.
Chapter 10
It was another long night for Lorik. He alternated bailing water and rowing. Working warmed his body only a little; his hands and feet still ached with cold. His hands were so raw from handling the wooden oars that even the smallest movement hurt. But Lorik kept working anyway. He reasoned that pain was a sure sign he was alive. The night seemed to last forever, but eventually the dawn came, and with it clear skies and sunshine.
Yulver was hopeful they could reach familiar waters by nightfall. Using the sun as his bearing and urging his sailors to row with all their strength, they turned west. No one knew exactly what direction the ship had been sailing in the night—they could have been going around and around in circles. Over half of Yulver’s crew was either missing or injured. Some had even died in the cold, wet conditions on board. Stone had done his best to keep Vera warm through the night, but when he woke up that morning, Vera was shaking with cold. Their clothes were still wet from the rain and waves. There was very little water and no food at all. Stone touched Vera’s forehead and felt a raging fever.
“Lorik,” Stone croaked.
“Ah, you’re awake at last, eh? Did you have a restful night?”
“Vera’s sick,” Stone continued, ignoring Lorik’s joking. “Help me.”
Lorik hurried over and felt Vera’s forehead. He had been planning on getting some rest. His body ached with cold, hunger, and thirst, but he hoped he would be able to sleep a few hours. The oblivion of sleep was the only respite from the pain, hunger, and unending work.
“She has a fever,” Lorik said, after feeling Vera’s check. “We need to get her out of these wet clothes and warm her up.”
“How?” Stone asked. “There aren’t any dry clothes anywhere. I’m not going to lay her out naked in front of all these sailors.”
“Give me a moment,” Lorik said. “We’ll figure something out.”
He looked around the ship. It was mostly open deck. The hold was still taking on water, although they were able to keep it under control by bailing. The cabin, which was really just a pavilion with posts for corners and canvas walls, had been rolled up and secured during the storm.
“The canvas,” Lorik said.
“It’s wet,” Stone complained.
“Yes, but we can make a curtain with it. It’s the best chance we have of giving her some privacy, plus it will allow the canvas to dry in the sunshine, so we’ll have something to cover her with tonight.”
“Okay, I guess you’re right. Set something up, I’m not leaving her.”
Lorik recruited two of the volunteers who had not fallen asleep yet. The deck was littered with bodies and debris. The injured sailors had been laid in a neat row under the cabin’s pavilion by Vera and Stone, but the volunteers, who had worked through the night with Lorik, had stretched out wherever they could find space. Jons was busy clearing the deck of wreckage. There were several pieces of shattered oars and Lorik appropriated them to build a shelter for Vera. It was like building a fort as a child, but eventually he did it.
“That’s quite the construction you have there,” Jons said.
“It’ll do the job,” Lorik said.
“What’s it for?”
“Vera,” Lorik explained. “She’s fallen ill.”
Stone carried Vera over to the shelter. It was set up just behind the cabin in the stern of the ship. It was open to the sunshine, but the canvas blocked the wind and gave the area some privacy.
“She needs water,” Stone said.
“We haven’t got much to spare,” Yulver said. He had moved the water to a single barrel, which was barely half full, and positioned it close to the steering oar so that he could watch over it personally.
“She can have my ration,” Lorik said.
“And mine,” Stone added.
“I guess I could spare mine as well,” Jons said.
“That should be about one full cup today,” Yulver said. “And if we don’t reach land, half a cup tomorrow. After that, you three will be dead and we’ll all be out of water.”
“Cheerful guy, isn’t he?” Stone said sarcastically. He scooped out half of a small metal cup of water. “Half now, half later in the day,” he added, making sure that Yulver understood he expected to get more water later.
“Better use it while you can,” Yulver said glumly. “This sun will dry it up faster than she can drink it if you aren’t careful.”
Stone went into the small makeshift shelter while Lorik stretched out on the deck just outside. Jons had slept through the night, so he began to check on the wounded sailors. The sun was bright overhead, and although the wind seemed cold, everyone on board the ship was soon sweating from the sunlight. Many moved into the shade of the cabin, but there was only so much room. The sailors rowing the oars were soon on the verge of exhaustion. The water in the barrel was tepid, but they gulped it down eagerly. Unfortunately, there just wasn’t enough water to keep the men hydrated. Some vomited, others fainted, but by midday, no one had the strength to row the ship.
When Lorik woke up, it was midafternoon. He had gone from cold and stiff to hot and sore. His body ached all over, especially his back. His mouth was so dry his tongue felt swollen and fat between his teeth.
“I need some water,” he said, but there was no reply.
The ship was drifting aimlessly with no sign of shore. Everyone on board was slumped on the deck, even Yulver.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” Lorik shouted. Only a few sailors stirred.
Lorik rose to his feet, but dizziness forced him to pause for a few seconds. Then he stomped back to where Yulver was passed out beside the steering oar. He grabbed the older man by the shoulder and shook hard.
“What are you doing?” he shouted straight into Yulver’s face. “Wake up!”
Yulver groaned, his eyes fluttering and then finally focusing on Lorik’s face.
“What’s going on?” Yulver asked.
“We’re adrift, that’s what!” Lorik thundered at him. “Why aren’t your men rowing?”
“They haven’t the strength,” Yulver said, a little of his fiery spirit returning.
“By the gods, man, if we don’t row we’ll all die,” said Lorik.
He ripped the lid off the barrel of water. Only a tiny bit sloshed around the bottom. He dipped the metal cup in and scrapped up enough for one swallow. Then he swooshed it around in his mouth before spitting it back into the cup. It took all his will power not to drink every last drop in the barrel.
“Swoosh your mouth and spit,” Lorik said, thrusting the cup at Yulver.
The grisly old sailor didn’t hesitate.
He turned up the cup and let the lukewarm water pour into his mouth. Then, like Lorik, he spat it into the cup.
“Stone!” Lorik shouted.
“What?” said the young warrior, his speech muffled by his parched mouth, which struggled to form the words.
“Come here,” Lorik said.
Stone crawled out from under the canvas tent, which had dried in the bright sunlight and constant wind. He struggled slowly to his feet. Lorik held out the cup of water he and Yulver had swooshed around their mouths.
“Thanks,” Stone said, reaching for the cup.
“Don’t drink it,” Lorik said, ignoring the look of indignation on Stone’s face. “It’s almost all that’s left. Just wet your mouth a little and save the rest for Vera.”
“Just a sip then,” Stone said.
“No, swoosh it around your mouth and spit it back in the cup. If you swallow it, I’ll throw you overboard.”
Stone’s need for water was so great it battled with his sense of reason. He knew Lorik was right, but he still wanted to drink the water. He wanted to drink and drink; it was almost all he could think about.
“Okay,” he said in an unsteady voice.
He pictured Vera in his mind as the foul water rushed into his mouth. It tasted so sweet to Stone that his eyes burned, but there wasn’t enough water in his body to produce tears. Still, he spit the water back into the cup.
“How is Vera?” Lorik asked.
“About the same, but not as cold.”
“Get her dressed, then get back out here. We’ve got to row this ship.”
Stone slowly ducked back into the tent.
“Jons!” Lorik bellowed.
“I’m coming,” the wounded sailor called back. “I wasn’t sleeping,” he teased. “I was just checking my eye lids for cracks.”
“Sure, sure,” Lorik said. “Give this water to Vera. Then keep her warm. I’m trusting you.”
“I understand,” Jons said, eyeing the cup of water enviously. “Is there any more water?”
Lorik The Protector (Lorik Trilogy) Page 7
