by Rod Fisher
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Chessa was enjoying an idyllic afterglow on the warm sand but the plaintive calling from Gwenay on the yacht finally got to her. She picked her way through the fringe of bug-infested kelp that bordered the high water mark and waded back to the yacht.
The day was spent in setting up a camp and stocking it from the yacht. They managed to get all the necessary provisions on shore before the tide returned. Sore hands made the simplest tasks difficult. Once again the blind queen proved her worth as a physician by supplying an ointment to deaden the sting and hasten the healing.
Felic built a snug lean-to from driftwood and roofed it with the foresail. Their first meal came from the bay's extensive oyster bed, barely awash at low tide. Contented, with full bellies, they sat around the fire until after sunset. Felic's optimism had returned after a night of rest. "Tomorrow morning I will rig a tackle from the masthead to some point here on the beach," he told the women. "If I can heel the yacht down while the tide is in, then I can expose the leaking seams for recaulking when the tide goes out."
"But even if you do stop the leaks, how can you get the yacht into deep water again?" Gwenay asked.
"When the seams are recaulked, we can pump the water out." Both women groaned at the mention of the pump. Felic gave them an abstract smile and continued. "Then we will wait for an exceptionally high tide. Maybe she'll lift off the bottom, at least enough to drag her toward the anchor with the capstan...a boat length would do it."
Chessa, sitting cross-legged, tossed pebbles into the flame. "Then we could be here for many days." She sounded pleased.
"Do you like it here?" Felic asked.
"I think I do."
Gwenay suddenly sat up. She was stiffly tense, moving her head from side to side as though listening. Felic and Chessa broke off their conversation and listened too, wondering what had unnerved her. There was nothing to hear other then the usual boom of breakers on the other side of the islet and the soughing of the waves that lapped the beach. After a respectful moment Felic asked, "What is it, Gwenay? What do you hear?"
Her face lit in a smile. "Not 'hear'...'see!" She held her breath for a moment, then she talked and laughed at the same time, her rush of words tripping over girlish giggles. "I was just sitting here, not really thinking about it when I realized that if I move my head... like this, and this...there is a difference in the light. I mean I can see the light...the fire. It's like over here, black...then gray, and as I turn toward the fire, it becomes a yellow gray and then a brighter yellow-orange." She fluttered her hands in excited gestures as she talked. The swelling and infection around her eyes had subsided during the day. Now they were wide and liquid dark in the firelight. Tears of joy sparkled on her lower lashes.
Chessa moved across and embraced her. "0h, Gwenay, I'm so happy for you. Maybe this is just the beginning and you'll be able to see again." Gwenay clung to her like a long-lost sister, and they cried together.
Felic watched the scene, amazed at the ways of women.
As the days went by, the work on the little ship progressed nicely. Gwenay, setting aside her royal prerogatives for the mutual good, was content to work on the menial task of caulking seams in the planked hull. Her blindness was not a handicap for the job. The bond between Felic and Chessa grew stronger each day as they toiled together.
"The moon is full and tomorrow we will have a high tide," Felic announced one evening, "and we will float the anchor out into the bay on a raft. Then we can use the power of the capstan, pulling on the anchor line, to move her off the sand."
When Felic arose the next morning there was a light fog on the water. Something in the distant mist offshore caught his eye. It was a vessel. As it came closer he recognized it as a war canoe.
"Get up! Get up!," He shook the women out of their sleep and hustled them, dazed and bewildered, into the woods.
"We've got company," he explained, "bad company. It's a raiding party. You both have to hide until they are gone."
"But...what about you?", Chessa asked.
"I will talk to them," Felic answered. "Help me gather this underbrush together and the two of you can hide beneath it."