“No,” Lorik said fiercely. “And if we’re going to survive, we can’t turn on each other.”
“I won’t drink it,” Jons said.
“Rest if you can,” Lorik explained. “You’ll have to relieve Yulver soon.”
“I can stand my watch,” grumbled the older sailor.
“You’ve been awake longer than any of us,” Lorik argued. “You’ll need to rest soon. Just make sure you have us on a good heading.”
Stone crawled back out of the tent.
“She’s covered,” he said.
“All right,” Lorik said. “Time to row.”
They both took seats in the middle of the ship. Neither were as skilled as the sailors, but both were determined to get Vera back to shore. They began to row, and soon sweat covered their aching bodies. The sun was setting and the temperature was dropping. Every once in a while Lorik shouted back to Yulver, making sure the older man was awake. When night fell, Yulver called to Jons and took the younger man’s place with Vera. Jons used the stars to navigate and they made slow but steady progress through the night.
Lorik couldn’t remember ever hurting as bad as he did on the rower’s bench. His muscles burned, his butt ached, and his mouth was so dry it felt like his tongue had grown into a large, hairy strap of leather. He tried his best not to chew his tongue, but it was impossible. More than once he tasted blood in his mouth, salty and metallic.
When the sun rose they could see the Sailor’s Graveyard ahead of them. It wasn’t land, but they all knew it meant that land wasn’t too far away.
Jons roused Yulver, who had trouble waking up but finally rose. Stone and Lorik were beyond exhausted, but they kept rowing. Jons roused some of the other sailors, shouting and shaming them into helping. Before long there were six other men rowing. Jons, slumped against the railing at the bow of the ship, called back directions to help Yulver navigate through the rocks.
More than once the oars tangled. Stone and Lorik were slower than the other men at first, but after a couple of hours, the sailors could barely keep pace with Lorik and Stone. Their minds were a fog, but their bodies continued rowing out of sheer muscle memory. By nightfall the sailors were once again too exhausted to keep rowing.
Lorik wanted to stop rowing. He didn’t care any longer if he lived or died, but he knew if he stopped, even to get a sip of water, he would never be able to start again.
“We have to stop,” Stone mumbled.
“No,” Lorik said. “Do it for Vera. Do it if you love her. Don’t quit.”
“I can’t,” Stone moaned in agony. “I’m dying.”
“We’re all dying. Just row.”
Somehow the two men found the strength to keep moving. Time seemed to stand still, but the boat moved slowly through the dangerous stretch of water. And finally, around midnight, they heard waves crashing onto the shore.
“Land!” Jons cried in a hoarse voice that was barely more than a whisper. “Land ho!”
“Almost done!” Lorik cried.
They felt the ship lift and propel forward as the waves around them began to break toward the shore. Then they heard sand grinding under the ship’s broken keel. Lorik thought he’d never heard anything so joyful in all his life.
“We’ve got to pull her farther up on the beach,” Yulver said.
Stone crawled back to check on Vera. Lorik and Jons woke as many of the other sailors as they could while Yulver tied a rope to the ship’s bow. Then, with every muscle aching, hardly able to stand up, Lorik led the men off the boat. He fell into the salty water, resisting the urge to drink the salty brine. The water was waist deep and cold. It shocked his body into motion. He climbed up onto the beach and caught the rope that Yulver flung to him. The other men soon joined him, and they pulled the ship as high onto the shore as they could.
There were tall trees growing not far from the water’s edge. Most were pine or cedar trees. Lorik tied the rope to one of the trees as the sailors fell to their knees in the sand. Lorik wanted to join them, but he knew they weren’t out of danger. He had to find fresh water or they might still die. He didn’t know how Vera was faring, but he knew she would never recover if he didn’t get her water soon.
“I’m going to find water,” Lorik said to Jons.
The other man just nodded knowingly, then collapsed.
Lorik’s feet felt like stones. His back ached so badly with every step that it took all his strength to keep moving. The stars were out and bright, but the moon was hardly a sliver in the sky. Along the shore the trees grew thick. Lorik leaned on them as he moved inland. Growing up in the Marshlands, finding water had never been difficult, but now as he stumbled in the darkness, he knew finding water would not be easy.
He had hoped that they might land closer to a settlement or just a homestead, but there was nothing in sight. The shoreline along the Sailor’s Graveyard was isolated, since very few ships could land there and no major roads ran through the area. Lorik might have wandered all night if he hadn’t heard a dog growl at him. There was a small hut set among the trees that was difficult to see in the night.
“Hello,” Lorik called out in a raw voice. “Is anyone there?”
It took a few moments, but then someone answered.
“Who’s out there?”
“We need help,” Lorik said. “Our ship was in the storm.”
“No one sails through the Graveyard and lives to tell about it,” said the voice.
Lorik saw light spill through the hut’s small windows. The occupant must have used hot coals to light a candle.
“We need water.”
“Well, there’s plenty in the well there, but I’m not letting you in. If you come any closer than the well, I’ll set my dogs loose on you.”
“Thank you,” Lorik managed to say. He could see the well now, although it was just a black shape in the darkness. It was little more than a mound of rocks, but a large wooden bucket was set on top. He lowered the bucket down and found the well to be shallow. It took all his strength to pull the bucket up, and then he immediately stuck his head down into the bucket and began to slurp up the fresh water. He stopped only to breathe, water dripping down from his forehead, nose, and beard. Then he thrust his face back into the water. He didn’t think he’d ever tasted anything so sweet. It was cool and refreshing. He could feel it run down into his stomach, and his mind seemed to focus.
After drinking half of the water in the bucket, he lowered it back down. He rubbed his face as the water from his hair ran down his cheeks.
“Hey, in the house,” Lorik called out. “I need a torch,” he said. “And I need to take this bucket.”
Chapter 11
Carrying the bucket of water back to the beach was difficult for Lorik. Every muscle screamed in protest. His back ached, his shoulder and arm burned, and his legs felt so weak he feared they would collapse under him at any moment. All he could think about was lying down and going to sleep, but he pushed on, intent on bringing water to Vera and Stone.
When he reached the beach he could make out the shadowy form of the ship a short distance away. Some of the sailors had taken refuge on the rocky shore, but most were still on board. Lorik had a small tin cup and he began to let the dehydrated sailors drink the water in his bucket. They were used to rationing food and water, so they didn’t protest when he limited them to one cup of water. Even that little bit of clean water seemed to give them new life.
Lorik used the last of his strength to climb aboard the ship. He went to Vera and found Stone passed out next to her. He gave his friend a little water, dribbling it onto his dry and cracked lips. Stone’s swollen tongue darted out like an eel from its cave. He moaned and his eyes fluttered open.
“Here, drink this,” Lorik told Stone as the young man sat up.
Stone took the cup in shaking hands and slurped it down.
“Oh gods,” he croaked. “That’s so good.”
“I know,” Lorik said. “Help me give some to Vera.”
They propped Vera up, Stone holding her in his shaky arms. Lorik poured a little water into her mouth. She swallowed instinctively, coughed a little, then moaned.
“She’s still burning up,” Stone said.
“She needs more water,” Lorik said. “A lot more water. We all do. There’s a small farm not far from here. I’m going to give a little water to the others, then I’ll go back to the farm for more.”
It took an hour to trek back through the woods to the little farm. Light was pouring through the windows of the small cottage. Dogs began to bark and the cottage door opened. A grisly-looking man stepped out. He had long, gray hair and an equally long, gray beard.
“Where’s my bucket?” he asked.
“Right here,” Lorik said, holding up the bucket. “We need more water.”
“You really shipwrecked?” the older man asked skeptically.
“Not exactly,” Lorik said as he lowered the bucket into the well. “We were caught in a storm. Lost our mast and half the crew. All the water barrels were contaminated with sea water. We barely made it back to shore.”
“You realize you’re in the middle of the Sailor’s Graveyard,” the man said coming nearer.
Lorik noticed the man had another water bucket in one hand, while the other rested on a large Hax knife that hung from his belt.
“Yes, but our captain knows the Graveyard well.”
“Only one captain I know foolhardy enough to sail the Graveyard,” the man said. “Yulver, that your captain?”
“It is,” Lorik said. “Although he’s not in the best of shape now.”
“All right,” the farmer said. “I’ll help.”
They carried buckets of water back to the shore. Most of the men had managed to climb out of the ship now. The farmer carried his water bucket around to the men lying on the rocky beach. They guzzled the water from his pewter ladle greedily, then fell back onto the beach exhausted.
Lorik carried his bucket back onto the ship. He couldn’t remember ever having been so tired, but he knew there was more work to be done. Vera was sick, and he needed to get her off the ship and to a healer. He found Yulver asleep at the steering oar.
“Wake up,” Lorik said, nudging the ship captain.
“What?” Yulver said angrily, his voice so hoarse it was barely more than a whisper.
“There’s a farmer here who knows you,” Lorik said, handing Yulver a tin cup of water. “You need to speak with him. He’s got water, but we’re going to need a healer.”
“All right,” Yulver said, after he had gulped down the water. “Where is he?”
“He’s on the shore, giving water to the men there.”
Lorik watched as the older man lumbered away, then he turned to the small shelter where Stone and Vera were. He moved to Stone’s side. The young warrior was asleep near Vera. He would have let his friend sleep, but he knew Stone needed to drink as much as Vera did. He nudged Stone gently. Stone’s eyes fluttered open.
“More water,” Lorik said.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Stone said.
“Let’s just hope Vera can say the same thing.”
Stone wanted to give most of the water to Vera, but Lorik insisted that Stone drink his fill. It took almost the entire bucket before Stone sat back against the railing of the ship. His stomach was full of water and his eyes drooped. Lorik was dribbling water onto Vera’s feverish lips.
“What’s the plan?” Stone asked.
“One of us has to go for a healer,” Lorik said.
There was a pause as both men fought to control their emotions. Neither wanted to do anything except drink more water and sleep. But they both knew that Vera needed help, and they didn’t trust anyone else to get it for her.
“You can stay here with her,” Lorik said. “I’ll bring more water and then go for help.”
“No,” Stone said. “You go get more water, then stay with Vera. I’ll go for help.”
“Are you sure?” Lorik asked.
“Yes, I’ll sleep until you get back.”
“All right, but I can go if you change your mind.”
“You’ve done enough,” Stone said, gripping his friend’s shoulder. “You got us here and you got help. We’d probably all be dead if it weren’t for you.”
“You rowed with me the whole time,” Lorik said.
“Yes, but only because I didn’t want you to show me up,” he said smiling. “You saved us, I’m not kidding about that.”
“I was just trying to save my own neck.”
“I know better than that,” Stone said. “You’re always looking out for other people. If it had just been you alone on that ship the outcome may have been different. I guess I’m trying to say thank you.”
Lorik just smiled a weary smile at his friend and picked up his bucket.
It took another hour to get back to the farm. Lorik simply had no strength left. His legs felt like stones, and his back throbbed with fiery pain that flared with each step. His shoulders drooped, and his head seemed to grind against the bones in his neck. The empty water bucket was heavy and he couldn’t imagine how he would carry it full of water back to the ship.
The farmer was leading Lorik and the sky was beginning to brighten. Thick white clouds were visible as gray shadows against the sky turned from black to pearlescent. The farmer didn’t talk much, and his pace wasn’t too fast, for which Lorik was grateful. The small cottage was set back almost a mile from the shoreline, through a forest of thick trees. Luckily, there wasn’t much undergrowth and Lorik only had to worry about tripping on the gnarled roots of the trees.
“I don’t suppose you have a horse,” Lorik said when they reached the farmhouse.
“Of course I have a horse. I have a lot of animals.”
“I just need the horse.”
“You seem to need a lot of things.”
“I’ll bring it back,” Lorik explained. “We need a healer.”
“Closest one I know if is near ten miles up the coast,” the farmer said.
“Which is why I need the horse.”
“You don’t look fit enough to ride a horse.”
“My friend will go for the healer. Can you saddle the horse for me?”
“Sure,” the farmer said.
He stalked off toward a small stable. Lorik wondered how the farmer must feel. Lorik loved his own horses; they were almost like family to him. He didn’t think he would just let a stranger ride off on one, even if it was to go fetch a healer. Still, the farmer didn’t seem to mind too much. Lorik decided he would make it up to the man somehow.
Raising the water bucket from the well left Lorik breathless. He was sitting on the stone edge of the well when the farmer returned. He was leading an older-looking plow horse that probably hadn’t been saddled in ages.
“She’s a bit out of practice, but she’ll get you to the healer,” the farmer explained. “Ride straight up the beach until you come to a river. Then follow the river through the forest. The town is called Hanesworth, and there’s a healer living there. He may not be in the village though. He travels some when he needs to.”
“Thanks for everything,” Lorik said. “I’ll bring the horse back as soon as I can.”
“I’ll get some food together and take it out to the ship.”
“Thank you,” Lorik said again. “I’m not sure how we can repay you.”
“Oh, I have a few ideas,” the farmer said with a grin.
Lorik smiled and nodded, then climbed into the saddle. The farmer handed the bucket up to him and he took it, trying to hide the pain it caused him to hold the heavy bucket. Every nerve in his hand and arm was screaming to release the heavy weight, but he held fast and nudged the horse forward. The old plow horse moved forward obediently. She wasn’t fast, but she seemed plenty strong. Lorik balanced the water bucket on the saddle horn and let the horse make its own way through the trees. When he finally reached the beach the sun was throwing long pink and red streaks across the sky. The ship was settled again
st the shore and the tide had run out, leaving most of the ship out of the water. It was tilted and looked too heavy and cumbersome to ever float. Most of the ship’s crew and volunteers who weren’t injured were asleep on the beach.
Lorik led the horse out to the ship since the water had receded. From the horse’s back he was level with the ship’s rail and set the bucket on board before crawling over from the saddle. He tied the horse’s reins onto the railing and went to find Stone. The young warrior was sleeping beside Vera. Lorik hated to wake him up, but he knew he didn’t have the strength for a ten-mile ride.
He nudged Stone and began to dribble more water into Vera’s mouth. She had been delirious with fever, never fully conscious. Her skin was pale and covered in a sheen of sweat. Her lips were dry and cracked so badly it was painful for Lorik to look at them. Her eyelids seemed thin, and spidery, blue blood vessels were visible in them. He lifted her head as he dripped the water between her lips. Her breathing was labored, but he saw her throat working to swallow the water.
“How is she?” Stone asked as he rubbed his face, trying to wake up.
“The same, I think,” Lorik said. “But she’s drinking the water; that’s got to be good.”
“I’ll get going.”
“Have some water first,” Lorik said as he handed his friend a tin cup. “I brought you a horse.”
“Where did you get a horse?”
“Same place I got the water.”
“Did you steal it?”
“No,” Lorik said. “The farmer is letting us use it. He said there’s a village with a healer about ten miles up the coast. You’ll come to a river, follow it inland.”
“Ten miles will take most of the day to get there and back again.”
“Maybe the whole day on this horse,” Lorik said. “She’s used to the plow, not the saddle. You sure you’re up for it?”
“I’ll make it,” Stone said. “Thanks for the water. I guess telling you to stay with her isn’t necessary.”
“I won’t leave her side. You can count on it.”
Stone bent over and brushed her lips with his. Then he walked away. Lorik saw him climb down from the ship and then up into the horse’s saddle. Soon he was moving up the coast at a canter. Lorik wanted to sleep but he knew he needed to keep giving Vera water. If he fell asleep nothing would wake him up for hours. So he sat back against the ship’s rail and fought to keep his eyes open.
Lorik The Protector (Lorik Trilogy) Page 8