The Wolf On The Run (The Wolf of Corwick Castle Book 3)

by Terry Cloutier

  Putt shook his head and he gestured to the dark, sinister clouds that covered the skies. “There is nowhere for us to run, my lord. If we try to get closer to land, we will be dashed on the rocks. We have to try and weather the storm out here and hope for the best.”

  “How long do we have?” Malo asked, his face grim.

  “Minutes,” Putt answered bluntly. He glanced at us, the beginnings of fear in his eyes now. “Storms move fast on the water, and this one looks nasty.” The outlaw leaned over the railing as the ship began to buck and kick like an unbroken horse beneath us. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Baine!” he shouted down.

  “What do I do?” I heard Baine call out, sounding panicked. “The rudder feels like it’s going to come off in my hands!”

  “Tie yourself to the railing and hold onto that rudder!” Putt shouted back. “Run Sea-Dragon with the wind. Whatever you do, don’t let her swing her beams to the waves!” He turned urgently to Malo and me. “Get the others and reef that sail!” I stared at him stupidly as Putt made an impatient face. “Roll the sail halfway, my lord, like I taught you. If that storm gets here and the sail is full, it will push our nose into the sea and we’ll capsize.”

  Malo and I raced for the ladder as I shouted for Tyris, Niko, and Jebido to join us. We made it to the lower deck and headed for the mast just as huge raindrops started to fall. The drops were hesitant at first, but then the skies broke open with a crash and it became an instant deluge, pounding against my head and shoulders.

  Niko shouted something at me as we converged on the mast, but I couldn’t hear him over the howling wind and rain. I pointed upward and motioned to him what was needed just as the boat suddenly lurched sideways. I lost my footing and collided awkwardly against the young outlaw and we both fell, rolling end over end until we crashed heavily into the sidewall. I lay still for a moment, stunned, then struggled to my feet, fighting to keep my balance as Sea-Dragon’s deck creaked loudly in protest beneath me. A massive wave rose above the ship, hanging there for a moment, then it surged over the gunwale toward me. I staggered beneath its force, spitting seawater as the wave buried Niko’s still form beneath a solid wall of water.

  I shook my head, blinking away the salt that burned my eyes. A small casket bounced and spun crazily past me before the wind snatched at it and drew it over the side. I grabbed Niko and half-carried, half-dragged his still form toward the center of the ship. I paused and checked to make sure he was still alive, relieved when I felt a weak pulse. I knew Malo and the others needed my help and I looked around in desperation, afraid Niko would get swept overboard if I left him where he was. I saw the hatch to the cargo hold was open, so I lowered the young outlaw’s limp body down inside where he’d be safe. It was the best that I could do for him.

  Sea-Dragon bellowed like a wounded animal as she thrashed and rolled, battling gamely to remain afloat. I stood up, fighting to keep my balance just as the top spar on the mast disintegrated before my eyes. The wind howled in triumph, snatching at the shattered sections of wood as it whisked them away. Then the storm went to work on the rigging, tangling the halyard hopelessly and worrying away at the sail until a massive rip appeared. I started to shout a warning—though I can’t imagine what anyone could have done anyway—just as the entire right side of the sail tore off and flapped away.

  Sea-Dragon instantly began to wallow in the water and her stern started to give way, slowly turning her nose toward the waves. Putt had warned Baine about letting that very thing happen and I knew he would need my help. I headed for the stern but managed only two steps before the ship shuddered as though it had been struck. The deck began to tilt sharply beneath me and I staggered, holding on as the portside bow started to list dangerously close to the waterline. I closed my eyes, waiting for that first bite of cold sea that would signal the end.

  Sea-Dragon groaned and trembled as the wind and waves buffeted her, but her builders had made her stout, and somehow she resisted, until finally, miraculously, she slowly leveled out again. I opened my eyes, surprised to be alive as I pressed onward through the blinding rain. Then I stopped in dismay. The rudder was gone—snapped off—and only a frayed rope flapping madly in the wind remained behind to show where it had been.

  Baine was gone too.

  9: Stranded

  The storm continued to rage, but I barely even noticed it now. It seemed impossible that Baine could be dead, yet I knew without a doubt in my mind that he was. No man could survive those waters for long. I felt my knees go numb with weakness as the realization struck me that I would never see him again. I should have come to Baine’s aid sooner, I thought guiltily. He would still be alive if I had. I’d failed my friend when he needed me the most, and I knew that no matter how long I lived, I would never be able to forgive myself.

  I’m not ashamed to admit that I wept then as the ship stubbornly fought the rolling waves. I could feel the gale both pushing and tugging at me at the same time, as though trying to tempt me to let go of the railing so that I might share in Baine’s fate. The chances were good that Sea-Dragon would be swamped by one of those waves soon anyway, I knew, so either way, I was fairly sure that the storm would get its wish in due course. Finally, I spat down into the sea that had taken Baine from me. If this storm wanted me, I resolved, then by The Mother, it would have to come and take me kicking and screaming.

  I turned away, struggling back along the deck to take shelter in the enclosure beneath the sterncastle. There were no walls to protect me here, just eight stout oak beams to hold up the decking above my head. Even so, the open space still managed to provide some relief from the wind, spray, and rain. I hugged a post and stared out at the roiling sea as the storm shrieked in fury as it sought me out, clearly irked that its prey had escaped—at least for the moment. The severed rope that Baine had used danced and twisted wildly along the railing in front of me, openly mocking my sorrow.

  Putt and Malo eventually appeared, looking for me. They stopped by my side, silently taking in the missing rudder and frayed rope. I could see the dismay on their dripping faces when they realized what had happened, but neither one said anything. I imagine the look on my face discouraged that. Both men shared a glance, and then they turned away without a word, though Putt paused momentarily to put his hand on my shoulder in commiseration. I watched them head back the way they had come, fighting against the whipping wind and rolling deck. I knew there was no reason to stay where I was any longer and that my help might be needed elsewhere, but truthfully, I just wanted to be alone. This place was as good as any other on the ship for that. Besides, we had half a sail and no rudder. Sea-Dragon and everyone on board her were entirely at the mercy of The Mother and The Father now. I knew there was nothing any of us could do to change that.

  “Hadrack?”

  I shielded my eyes from the spray coming off the gunwale, watching as Jebido struggled unsteadily across the deck toward me. I held out a hand to him as he approached, drawing him to me as a wave washed over the deck, soaking us both and almost knocking my friend from his feet. Jebido put his hand on my shoulder to steady himself as he grabbed onto the same beam as me.

  “Is it true?” Jebido asked as he hugged the post tightly. His face looked deathly white, but I could tell by his expression that he already knew the answer to his question. He just needed to hear it from me.

  I dropped my eyes and nodded. “I came too late,” I managed to say, hearing the bitterness in my voice.

  “It’s not your fault, lad,” Jebido said. I could see the sorrow in his eyes as he looked to the sea. “Baine is with Mother Above now, Hadrack. There is nothing more that we can do for him. But now I need you to come back with me. We lost the other half of the sail, and Malo wants us all to take refuge in the hold until this blows over.”

  “Why?” I asked. “If we are to die out here, then I want to greet death with a curse on my lips, not spend my last moments cowering in some rat-infested hold. I’ll stay where I am.”

  �
�Don’t be a fool, Hadrack!” Jebido shouted at me over the wind. He tugged at my arm. “Listen to me, you stubborn bastard! I’ve already lost one son today, and I’ll be damned if I lose the other! You either come back with me right now, or I swear I’ll pick your giant ass up and carry you there myself!”

  I sighed and looked out to sea again. I knew Jebido wasn’t just making an idle threat. He would do everything in his power to make me go back with him—even if it meant carrying me. I felt suddenly weary; the fight gone from me, and I turned to him. “Fine, Jebido,” I said. “You win. I doubt you could have carried me more than five feet anyway.”

  “Maybe not,” Jebido said, looking hugely relieved. “But I would have damn well tried.”

  I took one final, regretful glance at the sea, then followed Jebido out into the storm. We clung to each other as the ship lurched, working our way cautiously along the slippery deck to the closed hatch. I let Jebido descend into the ship’s belly first, then I followed, locking the hatch firmly behind me as the wind above tore at it, trying to pry it back open. A single lantern lit the interior of the hold weakly, swinging from the rafters as I climbed down the ladder. The hold was roomier now that most of the cargo was gone, though the stink of rat shit and piss remained. Someone had also been sick recently, I noted, adding to the stench.

  My men were braced along both walls, sitting on the floor and hanging onto whatever they could as the ship rocked and shuddered as it courageously fought the storm. The atmosphere inside the hold felt charged with a mixture of fear, apprehension, and grief. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who had been affected by Baine’s death. Niko had recovered, I was happy to see, with only a bruised temple to show for his ordeal. He greeted me, thanking me profusely for what I’d done for him as I lowered myself down beside him. Sabina sat opposite me, propped up between Tyris and Sim. I could tell the girl was trying to catch my eye, but I had no interest in her pity right now, so I pretended not to notice.

  The ship’s hull started to creak alarmingly behind my head, and I had a vision of the wooden planks suddenly bursting open, pouring tons of cold, merciless seawater on us. I quickly thrust that thought away as Malo staggered to his feet and rushed to the opposite end of the hold, where he began gagging and retching over one of the few remaining crates that had escaped being thrown overboard. I felt my stomach churn at the sounds of the House Agent being sick and I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the seesawing motion of the ship.

  An hour passed as we waited for death to come for us. Then another, but despite the fury of the storm raging over our heads, Sea-Dragon somehow managed to remain afloat through it all. Eventually, the sounds from outside began to lessen, and the ship's rocking slowly started to diminish. Was it over? I wondered. No one said anything as we listened hopefully, not wanting to give voice to the thought that maybe we would live and tempt the gods into changing that. Finally, unable to take the silence any longer, I stood up on shaky legs and headed toward the ladder. Malo watched me wordlessly, his face pasty white as I climbed and lifted the hatch a crack to peer outside. The rain was still falling heavily, I saw, but coming down straighter now as the wind had tapered off somewhat.

  “It looks like it might be weakening,” I said to the others. “I’ll go take a look.”

  I flipped open the hatch and climbed onto the deck, then moved to the gunwale. I saw nothing behind or to the sides but grey, unfriendly skies hiding behind sheets of rain, with giant, menacing waves rolling bellow them. Then I peered ahead as Sea-Dragon crested a wave and her bottom flattened out. I cursed at what I saw. A black mass of rock stood directly in our path, jutting up from the sea like a clenched fist less than two hundred yards away. I knew without a doubt that I was looking at the death of us all. The gods weren’t done with us yet, it would seem. I could see more rocks poking out from the water like the spine of a giant reptile to the reef's right, with open sea to the left.

  I was helpless to do anything but clutch the gunwale and pray as a giant wave arose, sweeping against our starboard bow, causing the entire ship to shudder. White foam and spray shot up and over the gunwale, falling onto the deck with a sharp slap as Sea-Dragon slowly began to turn from the force of the wave, offering it her stern. The ship straightened out, rocking back and forth as she gamely rode the swell like the stubborn beast that she was as I hung on for my life. We reached the crest of the enormous wave and I stared down in awe, fascinated despite myself by the power of the sea as we slowly tipped, then plunged into the waiting trough below. I could hear a strange howling sound ringing out and it took me a moment to realize that the noise was coming from me. The ship’s nose cut into the frothing sea like a sword blade, burying her bow and forecastle deep into the rolling tide. I didn’t think Sea-Dragon would be able to come back from all that weight, but somehow she muscled through, shuddering as she slowly rose, shaking seawater from her decks like a wet dog.

  I wiped the spray from my face, peering ahead anxiously. Where was the reef? The force of the wave had knocked us off our path, I finally saw with relief, putting the rocky barrier thirty feet away from our starboard bow. Would it be far enough? I held my breath, envisioning knife-like, rocky protrusions hiding below the surface just waiting to eviscerate the hull, but nothing happened as we hurtled past. I caught a fleeting glimpse of another ship hung up on the jagged reef, twisted and broken on its teeth. Men were struggling weakly in the water and I saw a sudden flash of red in their midst. I grimaced. Cardians! A man lifted a hand in desperation when he saw me, shouting for help. I just stared down at him dispassionately as Sea-Dragon quickly left him behind. Even if I could have, I wouldn’t have lifted a finger to help him. I watched as the Cardian’s head disappeared beneath the waves, wondering absently if it had been Rorian, not really caring one way or the other.

  The sheeting rain began to lessen as the sea propelled the ship forward, slapping me now with big, cold droplets that had me shivering in no time. Within minutes, the wind began to weaken even more, smoothing out the waves, though the skies above remained grey and threatening. Niko cautiously poked his head up from the hold and looked around. He saw me standing by the gunwale, my hands still clutching it, my fingers aching from holding on so tightly.

  “Is it finally over, my lord?” he asked shakily.

  “I think so,” I said, aware of the shake in my own voice. I carefully released the gunwale and moved to help the young outlaw up. “Is everyone all right down there?”

  “A few bumps and bruises,” Niko said. His face saddened. “I’m sorry about Baine, my lord. Malo told us not to say anything, but—"

  “Then don’t,” I said gruffly, cutting him off. I didn’t want to talk about Baine. Not yet. Maybe never. Instead, I glanced up at the ravaged mast with its dangling rigging and torn bits of sail. The platform was still intact, at least. “Get up top and let me know what you see.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Niko said.

  The young outlaw scaled the mast as Putt appeared from the hold, followed by Tyris and a very ill-looking Malo. Jebido was next, and he turned and helped Sabina up onto the deck.

  “Damn,” Putt muttered as he stared around at the battered ship. The red-haired outlaw had come to love Sea-Dragon, and I could tell he was dismayed at the beating that she’d taken.

  “Anything?” I called up to Niko.

  “Nothing, my lord. But it’s hazy and hard to see more than fifty yards.”

  “Stay up there and let me know the moment you see land,” I ordered. The wind was lessening by the moment, now less than a tenth of what it had been at the height of the storm. I glanced at Putt, who was still talking to himself as he surveyed the ship. “What do we do now, Captain?”

  “Do, my lord?” Putt said, looking thoroughly shaken. “There’s nothing we can do. We have no rudder or sails.”

  “Then find a way!” I snapped, irritated by Putt’s willingness to give up. “One of the Cardian ships has sunk, but the other might have survived,” I said tightly, “and I’ll be damn
ed if I’m going sit here helpless while they keep going.”

  Putt stared at me blankly.

  “Hadrack—” Jebido began, reaching out to me.

  “Don’t!” I said, slapping his hand away. “Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it.”

  I stalked off angrily, heading for the stern, where I drew my sword and lopped off the offending rope hanging there. I glared at it, then threw the rope as far as I could into the sea. I stood, bracing my hands on the railing as I stared down at the wake left behind from Sea-Dragon’s passage. The ship’s momentum had already begun to ease, I realized. Soon we would be at a standstill, stranded in the middle of nowhere and helpless to do anything to change that. It was beyond maddening.

  “My lord?” Putt said tentatively from behind me. I turned. The outlaw was holding a red cape in his hands. He held it up. “There might be a way to reach land using these.”

  I frowned. “Tell me,” I growled.

  “There are several crates of these in the hold,” Putt explained. He looked apologetic. “The Cardians probably had a spare sail down there too, but we couldn’t find it.”

  “Which means it ended up over the side,” I said as I leaned against the gunwale and crossed my arms. “Which you recommended we do.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Putt said, coloring.

  I gestured to the cape. “So, you’re suggesting we make a sail using those, is that right?”

  Putt grimaced. “Yes, and no, my lord.” He fidgeted under my glare. “We found several sewing needles, but not enough yarn to make a full sail, so I suggest we make many smaller ones.” I took an impatient breath as Putt hurried to explain. “We can tie them together at the corners, my lord, then attach them to the rigging. There will be gaps, of course, but it should work.”

  I took the cape and fingered the material. “Is this silk?” I asked, surprised by the elegance and softness.