Ship of Magic

Page 310

“Let me take you inside!” she begged him.

“No! Help me get back to the wheel. I'll take the helm; I want Sorcor to lead the boarding party himself. ”

“You can't board another ship in this weather!”

“Just take me aft. ”

“Kennit, you should not even be out on the deck tonight. I can feel your fever burning you up. Please!”

His rage was instantaneous. “Do you completely discount me as a man? My liveship is out there, her capture is imminent, and you wish me to go lie down in my cabin like an invalid? Damn you, woman! Either help me to the helm, or get out of my way. ”

She helped him, a nightmarish trip across a deck that pitched with the fury of the storm. She hauled him up the short ladder as if he were a sack of potatoes. There was anger in her strength, and when his stump knocked against a rung, near stunning him with pain, she offered no apology. At the top she hauled on his arm as if it were a sheet, until she had it draped across her shoulders. Then she stood up under his weight and dragged him to the wheel. An incredulous Sorcor shook water from his eyes and stared at his captain.

“I'll take the helm. Our liveship's in trouble. Prepare a boarding party, as many sailors as raiders. We'll need to overtake her swiftly, before she gets too far into Hawser Channel. ”

Far ahead of them, they caught yet another glimpse of the liveship as the seas lifted her high. She sailed like a derelict now, wind and waves pushing her where they pleased. A trick of the wind brought her despairing shriek to their ears as she dived down into a trough of water.

She was headed to the west of Crooked Island.

Sorcor shook his head. He had to shout over the storm. “There's no catching up with her the way she's sailing. And even if we had the crew to spare, we couldn't board her in this storm. Give her up, sir! There'll be another one along. Let that one go to her fate. ”

“I am her fate!” Kennit roared back at him. A vast anger rose in him. All the world and everyone in it opposed him in his quest. “I'll take the wheel. I know that channel, I took us through there before. You work with the crew to put on a bit of sail so we can catch her up. Help me but overtake her and try to run her onto the shoals. And if nothing is to be done then, I'll give her up!”

They heard her cry out again, a long drawn-out scream of despair, haunting in its eeriness. The sound hung long in the air. “Oh,” Etta exclaimed suddenly with a shudder as it finally died away. “Someone save her. ” The words were almost a prayer. She glanced from one man to the other. Rain had slicked her hair flat to her skull. The water ran like tears in streams down her face. “I'm strong enough to hold the wheel,” she proclaimed. “If Kennit stands behind me and guides my hands, we can keep the Marietta on course. ”

“Done,” Sorcor replied so promptly that Kennit instantly realized that had been the man's true objection all along. He didn't think Kennit could stand on one leg and still handle the ship's wheel.

Grudgingly he admitted Sorcor was probably right. “Exactly,” he said, as if it had been his intent all along. Sorcor made room for them. It was an awkward transfer, but Etta eventually had her hands on the wheel. Kennit stood behind her. He set one hand on the wheel to aid her, and clasped her with his other arm to keep his balance. He could feel the tension in her, but was also aware of her pent excitement. For a moment, it was as if in clasping Etta he embraced the ship herself.

“Tell me what to do!” she called over her shoulder.

“Just hold it steady,” he told her. “I'll tell you when you need to do anything else. ” His eyes followed the silvery liveship as she fled before the wind.

He clasped her close to him, and his weight against her back was not a burden, but a shelter from the wind and rain. His right arm wrapped her, his hand gripping her left shoulder. Still, she was frightened. Why had she ever said she would do this? Etta gripped the spokes of the ship's wheel tightly, so tightly her knuckles began to ache. She set her arms stiff to oppose any movement the ship might suddenly make. All around her there was only darkness and driving rain and rushing wind and water. Up ahead she could suddenly see flashes of silver-white water as waves dashed against barnacled rocks. She could not tell what she was doing; she could steer the ship directly into a rock and never know until they struck. She could kill them all, every man aboard.

Then Kennit's voice spoke softly by her left ear. Despite the storm, he did not shout. His low voice was little more than a whisper. “It's easy, really. Lift your eyes, look ahead. Now feel the ship through the wheel. There. Loosen your hands. You will never be able to react if you throttle the wood so. There. Now you can feel her. She speaks to you, does she not? Who is this, she wonders, who is this light new touch on the helm? So hold her steady and reassure her. Now then, now then, ease her over a bit, just a bit, not too much, and hold her steady there. ”