“Merchants?” Karl asked, but the Captain shook his head.
“No, too large and they are coming with all oarsmen, maybe two hundred oars in the water,” the Captain answered. “And from their position, I would say they began their journey sometime last night.”
Gwaynn and Karl exchanged a look. “Should we go to all oarsmen?” one of the lieutenants asked from behind the Captain.
“No, not yet. As I was just telling our young Master here, it would look out of place with all of our oarsmen going. They have no idea who we are, so let’s appear to be the innocent merchant. We should excel at it.”
And so they continued at their current pace, trying to hurry but also trying to appear as if they were in no hurry. The three approaching triremes were just over a mile away as the Londalay cleared the harbor and headed southwest toward the Toranado. Gwaynn, Karl and the Captain moved to the stern and kept a close watch on the three ships.
“Perhaps they are just heading for the harbor,” Gwaynn said softly.
“Perhaps,” the Captain answered. “We shall know very soon.” It took only about ten minutes for the triremes to reach the mouth of the harbor, and two indeed turned and entered, but the third kept coming on very fast, still pulling all oars. They were still distant, but gaining steadily.
“All oars,” the Captain said with a look of concern, and his order was immediately shouted and obeyed. The additional oarsmen were apparently ready and waiting for just such an order. The speed of the ship increased almost immediately, and it took nearly twenty minutes or so before Gwaynn could tell that the trireme behind was still gaining on them. Captain Tul, however, did not seem too concerned.
He smiled down at Gwaynn. “They’ve been pulling all oars for quite a time now. It will be tough for them to continue the pace.”
Gwaynn nodded, and felt Karl put a hand on his shoulder. Together they watched as the chasing trireme slowly gained on them. It was only a quarter of a mile away when its speed began to slack, after that the distance between the ships seemed to hold steady. Gwaynn turned and moved to the awning where the Captain was sitting with two of his lieutenants. The Captain looked up as Gwaynn came into view.
“Their speed has fallen off?” Captain Tul asked.
Gwaynn nodded. “How long can we hold this speed with all oars?”
The Captain smiled at the boy’s astute mind. “Several more hours at least, but our pursuer will have to keep up their speed also. Come sit and relax, I think we will win this race,” he said.
A lieutenant stood and offered his spot to Gwaynn, who hesitated, then moved and sat next to the Captain.
“Why?” Gwaynn asked. “They have more oarsmen.”
The Captain nodded. “Yes, but their ship is a war ship. It is much larger and heavier, built for ramming. We were built light for speed and we are carrying no cargo. They will falter,” he added confidently. But after nearly three hours the ship chasing did not falter, and when the sky suddenly grew very dark and the seas grew heavy the pursuers actually began to gain once more. The wind was blowing hard from land, filling the sail and making it more difficult to control the ship and keep it on course. On the Inland Sea, triremes normally move to land and anchor during storms. The ungainly ships were not built to handle large swells. But at the moment, the Captain did not feel that this was possible.
“They are gaining,” Gwaynn informed him. “Larger, heavier ships move through rough seas better I assume.”
The Captain grunted.
“Do we know who they are?” Karl asked his eyes weak over long distances. Gwaynn frowned at him.
“Very definitely Zani,” he answered. The large Zani flag was clearly visible to him even though it was flying from the stern of the following ship. He could also see several men standing on the bow of the ship watching him watching them.
“Captain,” said a lieutenant. “We should make for land. This storm looks to be a very bad one.”
The Captain studied the sky and indeed it looked none to good. The clouds blowing off the land to the south were dark gray and billowing, but farther to the south, near the horizon they looked almost black. Karl and Gwaynn stood silently by waiting for the Captain’s decision. The swells now were nearly ten feet high, making the boat pitch and roll alarmingly, especially to the newcomers. Both Gwaynn and Karl knew that to make for land was a death sentence for each of them. Still neither said a word.
The Captain noticed their silence, especially the boy’s, and was much impressed. The lad was smart, there was no denying that, and would know just what landing the ship would mean for him. His silence spoke volumes for both his courage and character.
“Lieutenant Hobbs hard to port. Take us north, dead with the wind,” he finally said, and to his credit Hobbs relayed the order without hesitation. In the swells the ship turned slowly, allowing the trireme behind to gain on them quickly, but then the wind finally filled the sail of the Londalay and they streaked off toward the north. Their pursuer seemed to hesitate then they also began to turn toward the north, but then the rains came hard and steady and blotted them from sight.
Lightning filled the sky and the thunder rolled over the waves far easier than the Londalay, but the crew kept the ship heading due north, as wave after wave crashed into the bow.
“Hobbs, see to the boy,” the Captain yelled through the noise of the storm. Hobbs nodded as the Captain gave orders to trim the sail, before it drove them sideways into the teeth of the swells. The ship would rely on the oarsman, already tired from the chase, to keep them on course.
Hobbs came over and showed both Gwaynn and Karl how to run a rope, which looped around their waist. It would keep them from being washed overboard by the high seas. It was a measure of safety but it also meant that if the ship went down they would be pulled down with it. All through the morning and well into the afternoon they fought the storm. The ship weathered it extremely well, but the oarsmen were very near exhaustion and the Captain knew that if they were to survive, the storm must begin to abate soon.
“Captain!” Karl yelled holding stubbornly onto Gwaynn’s shirt as they both fought to keep their feet on the pitching vessel. “We can’t take much more. Where are we headed?”
The Captain smiled. “The Temple Islands, but if we make land it will be in the sunshine. The Islands are still at least a day away on calm seas.”
Karl’s eyes grew big. “Can you swim?” He asked Gwaynn, who looked up at his big friend but said nothing.
The crew fought the storm for nearly two more hours before the first of the oarsmen collapsed from exhaustion. The ship grew sluggish as more men fell, then began to founder as the remaining men lost their battle with the sea. Waves turned the ship and crashed into it seemingly from every side. Sailors, those with enough strength left, fought the rolling of the ship and clamored to the top deck. The Captain was near the stern when a large wave hit them, spraying them all with a wall of water, when it past the Captain was gone.
“Remove the rope Karl,” Gwaynn yelled into the wind. Karl, though he stood right next to Gwaynn did not hear, so he yelled once more, then once again until the big man understood. They untangled themselves just as the ship was hit by a mighty roller. It struck them and the ship listed nearly thirty degrees. Karl gripped the rail with one arm and Gwaynn with the other, neither believing the ship could right itself, but for a moment it did, then the next wave hit and they were both washed overboard and into the sea.
Gwaynn went completely under and panicked. He kicked strongly, fighting for several seconds but still did not reach the surface. This is the end, he thought, strangely confident that he was right, then his head broke free of the waves and he gulped in precious oxygen. A wave caught him and he rode it high into the air. The Londalay was nearly a hundred yards away already. He fought the wave and frantically looked about for Karl. At first he could not see him, but then the big man popped to the surface only a few feet away. Gwaynn swam to him. They reached each other and turned just as another
wave struck the Londalay. This time it rolled, snapping dozens of oars. The sound of the groaning hull could be clearly heard over the noise of the storm. They saw several men fall into the sea as the ship finally flipped completely over. Seconds later another wave hit the ship hard and when it passed, the Londalay was gone.
The two rode the waves together for a few moments looking for other survivors, but they could not see any. The rain continued to pour down on them, limiting their visibility, so they could not be sure whether or not any other sailors were struggling to survive.
“Take off your clothes,” Karl yelled, knowing that the heavy wool would drag them down eventually. Gwaynn nodded and did what he was told, though he was reluctant to give up the garments he had just so recently acquired. His head bobbed below the surface several times while he was trying to slip out of his pants, but soon enough he managed to shed himself of everything and once again he was completely naked. Karl had drifted a few yards away and Gwaynn could tell that he was still struggling with his clothes. Gwaynn swam toward his friend, but the sea was teasing them, keeping them apart; playing with them as a boy might play with ants. Gwaynn eventually came close enough for Karl to reach out and grab, but naked now, Gwaynn’s arm slipped from his grip, so he had to try once again. They finally got close enough to clutch at each other, both impeding the other’s ability to swim, but each happy to be close never the less.
Gwaynn fought to keep is head above water, amazed at the size of the waves that lifted them up and then let them down. On and on went the endless cycle of rising and falling. It was on the crest that Gwaynn spotted debris floating near the base of the wave and pointed it out silently to Karl. The big man nodded and smiled.
“Grab a hold,” Karl yelled and turned his back on Gwaynn, who put his arms around the man’s neck and held on tightly, but still used his legs to help keep them both above water. Karl waited until they crested once more, spotted the debris field again and immediately began to swim strongly in that direction. It took them nearly a half an hour to get close enough to actually see what was floating on the water. There were several oars and other bits of wood that would do them no good, but there was also a large section of planking and Karl slowly made his way closer until they reached it.
Karl, breathing hard from his exertions, half climbed onto the planking, which measured nearly six feet square, and immediately dropped his head down and closed his eyes. Gwaynn climbed from Karl’s back and scrambled onto the makeshift raft next to him. It felt good not to have to tread water for a bit, though both did have to fight to stay on the planking as the sea continued to try to dump them off every few minutes. Silently they rode the waves, up and down, up and down, and the rain continued and the lightning crashed until the afternoon turned to night.
They fought to survive together and the storm waned so slowly that neither noticed when it finally stopped nor sometime later when the seas finally grew calm once more. They both slept, though very fitfully, each amazed when the sun moved above the horizon announcing the fact that morning had come and they were still both alive.
Karl woke first, thirsty and looked about the calm seas. He held out the hope of spotting other survivors, but deep inside he knew he would find none, and he didn’t. He turned to check on Gwaynn and found the boy awake and looking across the sea.
“Se…” Karl tried to say and then swallowed. Gwaynn looked toward him. “See…see anyone?” He finally managed knowing the boy’s eyes were far better than his own.
Gwaynn shook his head, also very thirsty. He wished he had thought to drink more of the rain that was coming down so plentifully last night. He felt like crying, but didn’t, and in fact, he knew he never would again, not that he was going to survive very long out here. Even if they didn’t drowned they would surely die of thirst before they reached land, if they ever reached land.
“I have to survive,” Gwaynn said softly.
“You will lad,” Karl said, mistaking the boy’s statement for fear. “You will. Come,” he added checking the sun. “We need to start moving if we can..moving north. Hopefully we’ll stumble across the Islands.” Together they worked themselves around to the other side of the makeshift raft, and without a word began to swim.
They both kicked for nearly an hour before Gwaynn began to seriously tire. Karl grabbed him and hoisted him up higher on the planks.
“Rest a bit lad. We’ve all day to swim,” he said, a smile in his voice, though he did not have enough strength to put one on his face. Gwaynn said nothing, just closed his eyes and concentrated on the movement of the raft in the water. Karl continued to kick, but he could not be sure of his exact direction, and being low in the water as they were their line of sight was very limited. Swimming, however, gave him something to do other than thinking of their impending deaths. At the moment Karl had strength to spare.
Gwaynn sprawled on the raft for several hours before Karl noticed how red his back was becoming, and cursed softly to himself. After spending most of the previous afternoon naked in the sun tied to that damn scaffold, Karl had now let him lay exposed in and out of the water.
“Gwaynn, get back in the water,” Karl croaked. “You’re burning to a crisp, and starting to smell good.” The boy didn’t react, and Karl nudged him, and then again before Gwaynn groaned and looked about. He didn’t say anything, and showed no sign that he had even heard Karl, so the big man reached up, and as gently as he could, pulled the boy back into the water.
“You’re burning,” he explained, but Gwaynn remained quiet, and they both just held on and floated with the current for several more hours before suddenly Gwaynn began to kick again. Karl, who was half sleeping, woke and looked over at the boy, who was smiling at him.
“I’m sure this is the right way,” he said so softly Karl almost didn’t hear him though he was less than a foot away. Karl smiled at him and began to kick also, though both kicked very lazily and rested often before starting up once again. They found a rhythm and kept it up most of the afternoon before each stopped to rest again. Dehydration was now setting in for both of them, and thinking clearly was becoming difficult even when they had thoughts. For the most part, they just hung on, mostly out of habit and instinct, and floated. Night came without either noticing, but when Karl finally did he used nearly all of his strength to haul Gwaynn back up onto the planks. Karl pulled himself half out of the water, knowing that he was likely to tip the boy if he was to try and haul himself all the way on top. He was not even sure the raft would hold his full weight, so he continued to hang on, his legs dangling in the water, kicking off and on the entire night.
Morning found Karl neither refreshed, nor rested, and he did not bother to even pull the boy into the water when the sun drew higher in the sky. He just continued to float and kick. The morning passed just as the night had, but with Karl resting more and more, and Gwaynn draped face down on the wet planking. Karl was not even sure the boy was alive anymore, but did not have the strength or inclination to check. Long stretches of time passed without a coherent thought, neither was holding out any hope of surviving, but living on just the same. How long he had been in the water, Karl could not say and it was nearly an hour before sunset when he first noticed the call of birds. He could hear them plainly and vaguely realized that he had been hearing the sounds for quite a while. He raised his head and looked about. The gulls circled over his head and flew up and down just above the wave tops.
‘Land must be somewhere close,’ Karl thought and his heart soared. He looked around for any sign but found it hard to focus, so he rested a moment, and then tried again. It took a few minutes, but finally from the crest of a wave he spotted land close, not even half a league away.
“Prince,” Karl croaked, barely above a whisper. “Land.” Gwaynn did not respond as Karl began to kick weakly, trying to steer them to salvation.
“Prince…” He said again, this time even softer than the last time. Gwaynn still made no move, and Karl gave up, not having the strength to contin
ue. He just kicked and kicked, sometimes catching sight of the land growing closer, but mostly he just kicking mindlessly. Without thought he continued to swim, finally hearing the breakwater, knowing they were getting very close. He was not aware of how close until the waves began to lift them higher, and suddenly the surf flipped Gwaynn off the raft and threw Karl head over heals, tearing the planking free of his grip. Karl struggled to right himself underwater, and was surprised when his feet touched sand. He pushed off and shot to the surface just in time for the next wave to crash into him; it sent him reeling once more. When he finally managed to surface again, he looked first for the next wave and somehow managed to ride over the top of it, then he frantically looked about for Gwaynn. He spotted the boy’s light skin not far away. He was face down in the sea. Karl fought his way to him, exhausted, catching him just as the next wave struck them. Karl held on, however and with what strength he had left, tried to guide them both to land. The waves helped, pushing them up until finally the big man was able to crawl more than swim his way up onto the beach. He pulled Gwaynn up after him, and with a final titanic effort drew them both out of the water and as far up on the beach as he could manage before he collapsed from the effort and was still.
ǂ
Far to the south, in the former Capital City of the Massi, King Arsinol Deutzani was not amused.
“The Rattan just returned to port; the Captain is reporting the Calais is missing at sea as well as the Londalay,” Ja Brude, the King’s advisor said entering the former throne room of the Massi royal family. He glanced curiously at the three suspended women hanging from a hastily erected scaffold in the center of the room. All three were completely naked and Ja’s first impression was that the one on the far right could not rightly be called a woman. But after closer inspection he saw that though she was indeed young, she was clearly not a child. She was thin, much too thin, with underdeveloped breasts and nearly straight hips. Her body was closer to that of a young boy than a woman, except of course for the genitalia. Ja Brude kept his face carefully neutral as he gazed at her. She was built exactly to the King’s liking.
The Black Horseman (The Temple Islands Series) Page 3