The Scourge of Muirwood
Page 35

 Jeff Wheeler

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“I can say no more of what I know. My tongue cleaves to my mouth when I try to speak more of it. These many years have the memories tormented me. I would recognize your face anywhere. I know who you are. You bid me take you to Dahomey? We were departing to Dahomey this very morn. You bid me take you to Dochte? Then you shall go there and torture those fools and haunt them instead of me. I have a shipment of cider due thereabouts.” He scratched his cheek roughly, staring at her with anguish. “I am yours to command. If you bid me sail you into the great Deep, I will do it. Most captains fear to sail beyond the outer island, but I fear it not. There is a stirring in me that says I will sink into Sheol, or else brave the seas beyond those islands ‘ere I die. This ship was built to ride the high seas. There is no distance too great. It lures me. It whispers to me. If you bid me sail you there, I will, lass. I fear it not.”
“I do not doubt it, Tomas Aldermaston,” Lia said, her heart wrestling with the implications of what he had revealed. If her heart was telling her true, she was standing before a man who had known her mother. “Is your ship very fast?”
A crooked grin met her in reply. “She is big and fast, my lady. Nothing outraces the Holk of Doviur.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
Crossing the Storm
To spare Lia any further indignities from the crew, Tomas Aldermaston offered her his quarters while he went up on deck and made ready to sail. Lia opened the bolted shutters and watched the port of Doviur recede from sight as the giant ship lumbered away. The wind was gusty and the ship had an odd sway that made her nervous and queasy. The sound of shouting, the creak of floorboards, the whine of ropes all flooded her with sounds and sensations. The captain’s chamber was decorated with fine workmanship, the furniture fashioned with wooden pins to lock the pieces to the ground and keep them from shifting with the vessel’s swaying.
Lia grew weary of waiting and so went to the door and slowly opened it. A mass of bodies moved about the deck, but there was a man stationed at the door. It was the one she had met earlier coiling the rope. He looked at her and shook his head slowly. “Stay hidden, lass. Best if the crew do not see you.”
She realized that he had taken to guarding the door to prevent other members of the crew from harassing her while the captain was distracted with other duties. He nodded to her to go back in and she obeyed.
With nothing to do, Lia cleaned up the mess spilled about the floor and then sat by the edge of the bed. The lurch and roll of the ship made her drowsy.
She awoke when thunder boomed overhead and sat up straight. The chamber was dark, though it was still daylight, she reasoned. Rain came slanting down through the open windows, which she hurriedly fastened shut. Enormous storm clouds filled the skies and the ocean was a cauldron of boiling water. Lia lost her balance as the ship suddenly pitched forward and she had to grab the table to keep from falling. She was grateful she had not eaten in a while. Her stomach was horribly upset.
The floor contained puddles of seawater which had sloshed in from under the door. Another violent pitch the other way made Lia desperate for a handhold to brace herself. Each rise and fall made her stomach giddy and then sick. Thunder boomed overhead and lightning flashed like silver daggers. Shouts from outside the cabin were full of rage and even the keen of fear. Lia managed to get to the door again and opened it. Her protector was no longer there. Water sluiced through the passageway and soaked her boots. Foamy waves breached the high walls, crashing onto the wet crewmen who struggled to tame flapping ropes and sails.
Railings were nailed into each wall, so she gripped them carefully and forced herself out of the dim corridor to the main deck. There were only a handful of crew about. She reckoned the rest were below deck to spare them from the storm’s wrath. Lia’s eyes bulged as she watched the sea drop perilously in front of her and the nose of the great boat went down at a steep angle. She gripped the rods hard, using her feet to brace herself between the two walls as the ship sliced down the trough and up the other side. Seawater submerged the prow when it struck the valley of the wave. Hand over hand, she pulled herself forward. The wind was thick with salty water and soon her hair hung in clumps.
A body appeared in the corridor. It was the black-haired sailor, the one who had scowled at her when she first boarded. The look he gave her was lethal. “Go back to the room, foolish girl! Sheol is punishing us because you are on board. Go back at once!”
Lia cowered from the fear in the man’s eyes. His words were angry, but his countenance was terrified. The ship plunged again and Lia started to slip, so she used both hands to grip one rod.