The Great Darkening (Epic of Haven Trilogy) (40 page)

“Governor?” Yasen asked, the anger in his words barely bridled under the guise of decorum. “There is no shame in prudent wisdom, but there is great folly when reckless bravery trumps good sense! And besides that, there won’t
be
any eyes to see, or voices to tell of, if all of our brave and resolute souls are sunk to the bottom of the Dark Sea!”

“I am the one in command of this colony, not you,
woodcutter
!” Seig shouted back. “Get your men ready, or I will see to it that they will be your men no longer!”

The two men stared hard and unforgiving at each other, while surges of cold seawater and torrents of wind washed and whipped through the grey ship. Yasen finally broke the stalemate with a protested consent. “As you wish,” he growled, not hiding his anger at the unwise decision.

Means had one of the junior officers signal the
Resolve
by using two polished brass lanterns, and Yasen hurriedly left the bridge. He held tight to the rail lines, holding himself steady against the gusts of wet and wind, as he made his way to the main deck with the rest of his company.

“What would you have us do, Chief?” Goran asked him.

Yasen looked back over his shoulder to the towering figure of Seig, unrelenting above his worried men, and then looked back again to his bald, woodcutting friend. His eyes betrayed his own doubts, but his words did not. “Alright men! Tighten yourselves up, for we have a storm to run though!” Yasen shouted. “Let us all pray that the THREE who is SEVEN has indeed given us his favor, huh?”

The men all kissed their flints, all except Cal, who had been staring off into the sky from the foc’sle deck near the foremast. Cal had never seen a storm like this before, and the sheer magnitude of the imposing black clouds caused his heart to sink. “
They
did this!” Cal shouted to Deryn. “The Oweles blew us straight into the storm! What if we cannot withstand it? How will I find the light if I can’t even make it to shore?”

“Take heart, Cal,” the small voice of Deryn spoke from inside his cloak. “For the great Father would not have sent one of his Oweles to bring you the words he did if a storm would so soon be the cause of your demise!”

Rain began to pound hard and fast upon the deck of the ship, and the wind turned the droplets of water into what felt like thousands of small, hardened stones. Cal shielded his eyes with his hand and held as tightly as he could to the branch-like railings.

“I am glad I have you, Deryn!” Cal yelled out. “Though I know your words to be true, my heart has a hard time believing them at this moment.”

“All hearts might have a hard time recognizing truth when there are storms staring them down!” Deryn shouted back. “Perhaps that is why He gives us the truth before the waves rise and the rains crash? So we can lash our hearts to the ancient masts and hold onto the truth enough to weather the violent tempests.”

“You are a wise little Sprite, aren’t you, Deryn?” Cal shouted against the wind with a worried smile.

“Cal!” Yasen shouted from across the deck. “Cal, come here, man!”

The ship began to rise and fall on the large and angry waves, making it almost impossible to walk in a straight line atop the deck of the grey ship. Cal dashed in-between masts and railings, holding tight to cargo nets and sail lines as waves of cold water crashed upon the already rain-soaked deck. Men were climbing the slippery ladders in an effort to secure sails and bowlines before they encountered the worst of it. The governor had ordered the ship to charge headlong into the black storm, tempting both the fates and the quality of Carina’s craftsmanship with this daring move, and the men had no choice but to give their best and hope they made it through the storm alive enough to tell the tale.

Seig stood atop the bridge deck, his dark, curly hair hanging wet over his face and his black cloak whipping in the wind behind him. “Captain!” he yelled against the wind. “If we are to have glory here, it will be me who draws the first blood.”

The old sailor had a confused look about him as he tried to reason what this new governor could possibly mean by these words. Without warning, Seig’s large hands grabbed the shoulder of the young helmsman at the wheel and threw him aside.

“Governor! Governor, what are you thinking?” the stunned captain shouted back.

Seig grabbed the spinning helm-wheel, his expression grave and determined with stubborn intention. “I will take us through the tempest, Captain, not you, or your smooth-cheeked helmsman either.”

“Of course you will,” Means commented with little respect.

Lightning cracked and the ship rolled and rocked, tossed back and forth by the unfathomable power of the deep waves. A scream broke through the noises of the storm as one of the ship’s crewmen fell from high atop the mainmast. He crashed hard and fatal onto the wooden grey deck just mere paces from where Cal was clinging to a pile of netted crates. Cal scrambled on all fours over to the fallen crewman, doing his best to wake him to life, but the more Cal shouted and shook him, the more obvious it became that the limp, broken man was lost.

Just then Cal heard a familiar voice shouting above the raging storms and the panicked noises. “Cal! Grab hold!”

Cal looked up with no time to spare, and threw his body against the secured cargo as he held on for dear life to the nets that bound the crates securely in place. A giant wave crashed with such force over the main deck that the recently fallen crewman who lay lifeless upon the grey wood was swept away in an instant, never to be seen again.

“Cal! Cal, are you alright?” Yasen shouted as he scrambled across the deck, doing his best to stay on his own two feet. “Cal, answer me, brother!”

Cal made his way out from behind the crates, holding tightly to the netting, bracing himself as the great ship was beaten and battered by the raging storm. “I am alright!” he shouted in response, now just a few paces from his friend.

The ship rocked hard to the starboard side, as a hard gust of wind caught her sails and bent the great vessel almost completely on its side. Men began to fly from the deck and plummet into the cold, dark, raging waters below. Cal instinctively reached out and grabbed Yasen’s arm as he managed to secure himself in the port side rail lines. The deck beneath Yasen’s feet was instantaneously yanked out from underneath him. His large, black boots kicked desperately in the air as he held onto Cal’s arm, helplessly suspended over the hungry waters of the Dark Sea.

“Hang on, brother!” Cal shouted to the chief. “Hang on!”

The boat rocked hard again, and this time the great ship was able to manage to right her position upon the tumultuous waters. Yasen barreled into both deck and groomsman alike before he was finally able to regain his footing. From there, in a crumpled tangle on the main deck, Yasen frantically surveyed the chaos of the ship’s men, then turned to look up to the bridge to see if Seig was still at the helm.

“Lash yourself here. I can’t afford to lose you to one man’s stubborn pride!” he shouted to Cal over the noise.

Cal nodded in agreement and wrapped his arm securely in the rail lining as Yasen took off towards the bridge deck. “Seig! Seig!” Yasen shouted, climbing the stairs. “Get us out of here! We must set our course north or you will sink us all!”

Seig had the look of a man who had already resigned himself to an ill-fated death, his face ashen and beaten as he clung in despair to the wheel. The governor turned and looked to the woodcutter, his dark hair hanging heavy over his eyes. “I fear all is lost, woodcutter,” Seig said. The pride of this man seemed to have been drowned in the storm he so recklessly chose to ride.

“Not all is lost yet!” Yasen shouted back. “Steer us north! Steer us north, now!” Yasen stood there, momentarily frozen, as he watched the governor remain unmoved by his desperate words there in the wrath of the squall. “Come on, man! Steer us north, we can still make it out alive!” Yasen shouted again.

Seig blinked away the rain, the color and life returning back into his dark eyes. “Aye! North it is!” he managed to say in reply.

Just then the great ship made a hard starboard turn and the winds of the storm caught in her sails, sending the
Determination
careening away to the edge of the storm.

The
Resolve
must have seen the exiting move of the lead ship too late, for when she tried to turn, the great, two-masted vessel caught the wind in her sails with such awkward fury that it snapped the fiery mizzenmast with splintering force. The huge, disembodied mast crashed hard into the lower yard of the main mast and swiped away her lower sail, sending both mast and yard into the deck below. The helmsman did his best to steer the ship north in the same path that the
Determination
had taken, but with two of her three sails gone and the unbalanced amount of weight hanging off the starboard bow of the ship, her turn was too slow and too late.

The remaining sail had caught the violent current of air and propelled the ship in a slow, wide-arching turn straight into a hidden reef, which lurked in the middle of the Dark Sea. The gilded branches of the great tree at the bow of the ship plowed into the formations of coral and sea stone. The sharp rock gave way under the massive weight and unrelenting force of the ship, but not without ripping asunder the branch and cutting away a huge, gaping gash in the stem of the ship.

The wind in her sail propelled the ship past the pummeling dangers of the reef, but not before dealing a fatal blow to her seaworthiness. Now that the lead vessel was out of the immediate danger of the great storm, the men of the
Determination
watched in horror as their sister ship, the pride and prize of Haven, was rendered useless before she ever made it to the Wreath.

“We have to turn around and help them!” Yasen shouted to Seig. “We can’t just let our brothers drown here in the middle of the black!”

“I had no idea that there was a reef … here in the middle of the ocean,” Seig told Yasen. “No idea at all!”

“There is no time for remorse right now, Governor! We must go rescue our brothers!” Yasen implored. “We must go now!”

“Right … you’re right,” Seig said as his sense of urgency and responsibility woke him from his shame-filled stupor. The governor jerked the helm wheel hard, and continued the turn, pointing the vessel back towards the storm and the wounded and sinking ship.

Chapter Forty-Three

T
he
men of the
Determination
readied rescue lines and boarded the few cockboats that were securely fastened on the main deck. As the governor steered the storm-battered vessel out from the worst of the violent wind and waves, the men steeled themselves for what dangers lie ahead. They watched the
Resolve
in helpless agony as the stem of the fiery ship began to sink. With the weight of the fallen mizzenmast at the bow, water was being forced all the more rapidly into her gashed hull. Shouts and screams could be heard even from this distance as the desperate guardsmen signaled and begged for swift help.

Yasen leapt hurriedly onto the main deck of the grey ship and shouted commands to his brothers. “Save the men who can be saved first, and then the horses and supplies! We will need all we can save if we wish to survive! We must pull our drowning hopes out from this cold, black ocean!”

“Aye Chief, we will give this angry hell of a puddle our stubborn worst!” Goran shouted in reply. “You can count on us, North Wolf!”

Tahd and his men scaled the ladders down to the raging ocean surface and climbed aboard the two remaining cockboats. They readied their oars and with brave deftness they paddled their way to the sinking
Resolve.
When the grey ship came within boarding distance of her wounded sister ship, Seig called for the anchor to be dropped and sails to be hoisted. Soon Yasen and some of his men were swinging from mast lines across the water and boarding the sinking vessel.

Cal and a few others secured a harness around their chests and repelled backwards down the sides of the great, grey hull. If there were men or beasts or supplies still afloat, theirs would be the task of fishing them out of the hungry jaws of the Dark Sea.

Goran and some of the strongest woodcutters had tied the large leather harnesses held together by thick, brown rope lines, and had threaded them through a series of pulleys used for loading and unloading heavy cargo. He instructed Cal to see about securing the horses as best as he could before the big men tried to haul them up from the dark waters.

Within moments of their departure, Tahd and his men returned with a dozen frightened guardsmen. “Get to the harnesses, men! We will need all the backs we can muster if we hope to salvage much at all!” he shouted to the rescued men as they climbed the large ladders on the sides of the
Determination.

Soon Cal and the others were filling Goran’s leather harnesses with wounded and weary men, along with all the barrels and crates they could manage to fish out of the chopping waves. The strong-muscled woodcutters atop the ship’s deck pulled and strained against the wet and heavy weight suspended off the side of the ship until they finally hoisted their prizes safely aboard. Though they had managed to survive the worst of the storm, and were a good distance away from the still brooding tempest, the repercussions of such violent winds and angered weather had the men of the
Determination
bouncing and bobbing in a dangerous and sickening rhythm along the agitated waves of the sea.

“We are going back for more!” Tahd shouted to Cal and the men who hung suspended alongside the hull of the grey ship. “See there!” Tahd pointed to signs of frantic splashing along the surface of the water. “Some of them are starting to swim, see to it that they don’t drown!”

All of a sudden a loud crack of thunder shook the darkness, then a blinding streak of white hot heat flashed and struck the lone remaining mast of the wounded
Resolve.
The great mast splintered under the wrath of the lightning, sending heavy timber crashing to the chaos below. The great amber sail caught fire and was instantly engulfed in a tragic blaze. Men aboard the
Resolve
began to scream out in pained wails as a handful of them had been caught in the enveloping fire of the once-amber sails, while others tried to drag their crushed limbs out from under the large pieces of fallen mast. Angry fire upon angry water sent the already panicked men of the first colony into a frenzy of fear-induced chaos.

“Wait!” Cal shouted over to the captain. “Take me with you! Someone needs to free the horses before they burn or drown!”

Tahd thought for the briefest of moments, then agreed to ferry him over. “Come on then, groomsman, hurry up!”

Cal unharnessed himself from the rescue line and leapt aboard the small cockboat. Soon enough, Tahd’s men had rowed within reach of the sinking ship, and Cal climbed aboard the wreckage with the haste of a mother whose children were in grave danger.

“Mind you don’t get yourself killed, or worse, there under the deck, groomsman!” Tahd shouted up to Cal as he climbed the wooden ladder on the ship’s hull. “Time is running short!”

“I will!” Cal called out in reply. “See to it that the men are ready with harnesses to rescue these horses, or it will be their own backs that will have to carry the timber of the Wreath!”

“Aye!” Tahd shouted back as a half dozen more men piled into the already strained cockboat.

By the time Cal climbed his way to the top of the deck, the bow of the
Resolve
was mostly submerged. The scene of carnage and of blood was enough to make him wretch right then and there. Dead and dying men were littered about the failing deck; some were burned, some had been crushed by the fallen mast, and worse still, some were impaled or rendered unconscious by the lightning-splintered timber. Cal collected his courage when he saw Yasen helping the worst of the wounded out onto one of the rescue boats. “Yasen!” Cal shouted over to him. “Yasen! I am going below to free the horses!”

“Take caution, brother, and mind that you don’t get trampled in the process!” Yasen shouted back as he dodged a falling piece of blazing mast.

Cal ran as carefully as he could manage down the cargo ramp on the forward side of the main hatch and into the hold where the horses had been secured. Instantaneously he could feel the panic and anxiety of the dozen horses still penned in the sinking ship. He quickly ran to each stall and unhitched the nervous beasts, one at a time. Some stomped and snorted in angry protest, frightened beyond the point of understanding the freedom that had just been given to them. Others were so relieved that they ran off and up the cargo ramp with little prodding at all. “It’s all right, it’s all right!” Cal said to the horses. “I will come for you, I will not let you drown chained to this sinking ship.”

As Cal freed the horses, he put his hand upon each neck and whispered whatever soothing words came to his mind in an effort to calm their nervous thoughts. He had freed nearly all of them when the floor of the main deck above collapsed in a heap of fiery rubble right in front of him. A familiar scream came from the other side of the burning blockage, and Cal could see that there, in a deep corner of the ship’s hull, the dapple grey courser he had earlier named Farran was trapped.

Cal surveyed the collapsed chamber. Decking and pieces of burning mast were in a heap before him, making the way nearly impossible for him to reach the screaming horse. “I don’t know what to do!” Cal shouted as much to himself as to the frightened horse. “I can’t get through!”

Without warning, Cal’s body was thrown against the row of horse stalls that lined the starboard side of the ship’s hull. He did his best to guard his face from the flying buckets and loose wreckage, but the sudden and unexpected jolt robbed him of his breath. The bulkheads at the ship’s bow had filled to capacity with the cold salt water and the off-kilter weight of the already lame vessel caused the ship to roll, without warning, onto its starboard side.

Cal clamored to his feet, wheezing amidst the dust and debris, desperate to reclaim the air that had been knocked from his lungs. The bone-chilling scream from the trapped horse woke his woozy mind from its pain-induced fog, and the sense of urgency quickly spurred him to action. Though the rolling of the ship had taken him by surprise, it had in fact cleared a passageway for Cal to get to the last stall. He climbed over the wooden stall rails, past the burning rubble that had been shaken loose, until he reached the frightened iron-grey horse.

Farran had been hitched securely to his stall, but when the sinking ship pitched and rolled, the weight of his huge frame began to pull against the harness still affixed to the unmoved stall. Farran’s eyes were wide and white with fear. If the ship continued to roll, he would hang and break his neck before he ever drowned. Cal leapt onto the upturned sidewall and reached the panicked horse with not a moment to spare.

“Hey there, boy, hey there,” Cal whispered to the wild beast. “Remember me? Do you remember me?”

The horse snorted and screamed as water began to poor inside the slanting hold. His legs clacked and scrambled upon the stall rails and the sidewalls, desperate to find some sort of purchase and bring relief to the weight that threatened to snap his neck.

Cal reached for the knot that securely fixed the lead from Farran’s halter to the chain of the horse’s stall. His hands fumbled and groped at the tangle of leather and iron, but it was of no avail, for the weight and tension had made the knot all but impossible to untie and there was not time enough to begin to undo what had already been done.

Cal felt for Gwarwyn at his side. The ancient blade of magic had not for one moment been apart from him since Iolanthe had presented it to him in the secret grove under the Hilgari; but now it was nowhere to be found. Cal looked frantically all around the upturned hold, but he could not spy the missing sword anywhere. Already the hold was filled waist-high with the cold dark water of the angry ocean, and dread filled Cal’s thoughts that he might have lost Gwarwyn forever.

“Wait here, boy. I won’t leave you … I promise I won’t leave you here to die, but I need a blade to cut you free,” Cal told Farran just before climbing back over the stable rails towards the entrance of the hold.

Water began to pour in through the hatch entrance, and Cal had a better time of it swimming than he did climbing. He took in a deep breath and dove down under the cold water. Like an answer to his desperate prayers, the sparkle of violet and silver caught his eye from underneath the rubble of the collapsed decking. Soon he was clawing his way underwater, pulling at the heavy, fallen timber and the lengths of sodden bowline that obscured his fabled blade.

With an oxygen-starved heave Cal gathered his resolve, drawing upon the strength from the all-too-recent memory of this sword being liberated from the watery depths. Cal managed to free Gwarwyn from the tangle before his breath left him. He shot like an arrow, swift and straight, to the surface of the water. Cal’s loud gasp for air was drowned by the violent screams of the trapped horse. There was not much time left if he hoped to free the courser and still manage to get out from under this ship with his life still intact. He clawed and climbed, swam and maneuvered his way back to the imprisoned grey horse, and without even thinking twice about it, he ran the length of the rusted blade along the leather thongs of the horse’s strained leads.

He heard a snap and a pop, and within a blink of an eye the horse was free. Farran kicked his way out of the confines of the upturned stall and Cal shielded himself so as to not fall victim to the wild hooves of the desperate beast. Just then another support buckled, and the rest of the hold filled with the cold, black waters of the Dark Sea.