Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls (56 page)

‘We have made it through the storm Serenna,’ he spoke with great relief as he stroked her pale forehead. ‘We will survive....... we will survive.’

For several spans he stayed  holding her like that, with his aching body braced against the movement as the seas fought less violently against the ship, until at last he was able to lift Serenna back to her bunk and he knew that she was no longer in danger of further injury. Using the bedding from both their beds Rema was able to secure her safely and he was free at last to stretch and massage his battered body. He lit the tiny lamp once more and surveyed the sodden scene. At that moment there was a pounding on the cabin door, but the visitor did not wait for an answer for he came straight in. It was Scion.

‘Rema, to the deck, quick man, for we need all the strength we can muster, we are in great peril.’ And he turned and was gone. Rema cast a final glance at Serenna who seemed peaceful enough before following the huge sailor up onto the wind and wave swept deck.

His first impression was one of awe, for all around great waves chased the ship, breaking and foaming continuously whilst the wind shrieked through the rigging, much of which seemed torn and useless. Captain Tyne was on his rear deck, clearly weak and exhausted; great welts about his body marked where the ropes which had lashed him to the rear mast had cut into his salt soaked flesh. But despite his great ordeal, he was giving fierce commands to men all about him. Rema noticed that he pointed towards the bow, and so he too turned and looked about and was immediately  stricken with an ice cold fear, for there before them, not two leagues off, was land, and a shore upon which the waves landed with such a monstrous noise that they could be heard above all else. Rema looked aloft and saw that they were still running before the storm under bare poles, for all the sails remained tightly furled, and indeed were missing altogether in places.

‘We will go ashore and be smashed to pieces within a span unless we can turn and hold her,’ Scion yelled in his ear. ‘Captain will drop both anchors and hope they hold. We need all hands to the capstan for’ard, to winch her up once they bite...if they bite, for if there is rock beneath us we are doomed.’ Rema understood immediately that this last effort to save the ship and all on board was a most desperate measure, for they were  travelling fast and there was every chance the anchor ropes would not hold the vessel, or else she would broach and sink, or .... it did not bear thinking upon. He raced forward and joined the sorry band of sailors at the huge capstan winch. Clearly the men were worn out with standing against the storm, and several wore bandages and were bruised and injured.  Scion took charge and they waited for the Captain to give the order.

‘Brace yourself men,’ Scion growled above the storm, ‘for we will swing about, and there will be water over the side. Hang on now for we have come this far, let us all finish this evil ordeal.’ So saying they all took the firmest grip they could and braced their feet against whatever they could.

Captian Tyne waved an invisible order to the men who cut the anchor restraints, and both the huge iron anchors disappeared into the sea with hardly a noise. The ropes which held them raced out. Rema found himself counting, 1,2,3,4,....at  12 there was a huge  jolt as the starboard anchor bit into the sea floor. The
Scoria
, suddenly checked in its mad flight, swung around beam onto the waves, and the sea knocked her flat. Water poured over the railings and in an instant the crew were under water. Rema felt the cold knock the air from his lungs, but he held on grimly and waited. After an age the water cleared and the ship slowly righted herself. It swung around to face the wind and the waves, for the one anchor held. Rema noticed that the man who had been holding the capstan just in front of him was no longer there. He had no time to wonder about the poor man’s fate for suddenly with a huge jolt the ship bucked against the waves and the anchor rope stretched so taught that it sang like a bowstring just released. With a sudden crack like a giant thunderclap, the anchor rope snapped and like a whip, scythed back across the deck. One of the desperate sailors who stood to windward of Rema was cut down and swept over the side in a sudden mist of red. Released from its tether, the
Scoira
began to drift inexorably once more towards the battered shore.

‘We will need to swim men,’ Scion shouted. We’ll ground her now; any moment, so brace for it! And then it will be each to their own wits. Good luck. Don’t fight the waves, let them take you ashore. Float as best you can, we are not far off now.’ His voice was full of emotion and it crossed Rema’s mind that he like many of the other sailors might not be able to swim. It was a common enough weakness in most seafarers. They spent all their lives on the waves, and yet never braved them to learn the simple skill of swimming. As he surveyed the faces all around him, he knew he was right. These men were facing certain death.
 
It was then that he remembered Serenna, alone and helpless below deck, and he knew he must save her or die in the attempt. Just as he started aft, braced against the ship’s ugly motion, the second anchor rope suddenly went taught and with a lurch and jolt the ship stopped in her tracks. Everyone on deck froze in disbelief, and waited for that rope too, to part, for it was the final thread which held them from oblivion. But it held. The
Scoira
straightened and finally sat proudly with her bow parting the waves which raced passed her to the shore now not more than half a league distant. The pounding of the surf upon it was a constant reminder of their perilous position, but as the moments passed and the anchor dug deeper into the sand, they were held. Only just, but they were safe.

‘Quick now men to the capstan,’ Scion called loudly, and all who could, put their backs into it and winched the ship slowly back into deeper water, until with burning thighs and aching arms they collapsed onto the deck and dared believe that they would see another sunrise, which to their relief came about within  a span, for their great fight with the sea had taken place in the early morning of the third day since the storm had taken hold of their vessel and blown them clean across the ocean to another land.

‘Welcome to the Faero Islands, Rema,’ said Scion who sat panting beside him. ‘We have travelled far.  I did not think we would be in danger of coming aground once we passed the Needles, but this has been a monstrous storm the like of which I have never seen before.’

‘Nor would like to again, I wager,’ said Rema quietly in reply.

‘On that we agree, my friend. On that we agree.’

It took the remainder of that day to secure the ship and commence the enormous task of repairing the great damage which the storm had done to her. Firstly the crew needed to rest and dry their soaked bedding and personal belongings, but not before Captain Tyne had pushed them to put out a smaller third anchor from their stores and so allow themselves a measure of security, for they were on a lee shore, with the wind and waves wanting to drive them to their destruction, and even with sails set they would not have been able to sail her off until the wind changed. The sea quietened steadily however, and before the noonday only huge swells remained, and they did not break until much closer into the shore.

They could see people on the beach waving and indicating that they should seek shelter in the small harbour which was visible further along the coast to the east. Tyne however knew that he could not move until the elements conspired less against him, and so they waved back, but remained where they were.

Serenna had been thrown from her bunk as the first anchor had swung the ship around, but the bloodied water had roused her enough to allow her to keep safe, but only just and Rema spent some time tending to her wound and assisting her to the deck for her first fresh air for several days. They sat in the warming afternoon sun and ate gratefully of whatever food the cook was able to provide, for the stove fires needed resetting and the fuel was damp and reluctant to catch alight. Finally as the evening approached, the wind swung around and Tyne gave the orders to set several sails which allowed the ship to pull slowly up upon the anchor ropes. These were winched quickly aboard, and the anchors retrieved. The
Scoira
then sailed slowly east, not two leagues off, and within a short time found shelter behind the harbour wall, where once more she rode at anchor, but now on a dead calm sea. A small boat arrived from shore and Tyne spoke animatedly to the harbour master who shook his hand profusely and welcomed them all to the safety of
Reviktun
the largest town on the main Island of the Faero Isles.

They all slept that night, after a hot meal of broth and salted meat, in damp beds, but without the winds and waves to torment them further, all aboard lay exhausted without stirring until well after sunrise the next day.

Rema took Serenna ashore before the noon and both felt glad to feel solid ground beneath their feet once more. Serenna’s head was improved although a deep cut behind her left ear throbbed painfully whenever she moved too quickly. The town of
Reviktun
was small, smaller even than
Lavas,
but the people were friendly and Rema immediately felt warmly welcomed. In fact he had a feeling that this place was strangely familiar, for the air was clear after the storm and the fresh smell of life from all around lifted his spirits enormously. High mountains, heavily forested rose quickly from not far inland, so that the land for crops was not plentiful, but being volcanic, was rich, and a famer informed them that he could get three crops a year if he worked hard. He also informed them that the magic of the Faero Isles was the warm south current which came from a faraway place where the sun heated the sea, and which by some quirk of nature delivered it right to the Islands, so that there was never snow, or ice, but it seemed like summer and spring most of the year.

‘Winter is so short that we are into summer before we’ve had time to get out the warmer clothes. It is a wonderful thing that current, to be sure,’ he concluded with a warm enthusiasm and a twinkle in his eye. He shook their hands and left them feeling as though they had been living there for years, and had just talked of the weather as one does to a neighbour. Suddenly as the friendly farmer was no more than a dozen paces on his way, he turned and asked a strange question.

‘Siraa I cannot say why but you seem familiar in a manner. Are you sure you have never visited this place before?’ He stood with a puzzled look upon his face?

Rema shook his head. ‘I am sorry my friend, but it has been but the hand of fate which has delivered me to you here, but I am happy that it did for this is indeed a most wonderful place.’ The two looked at each other for a moment and then the farmer was on his way, but they heard him muttering, for he seemed surely quite agitated.

‘Serenna, I cannot tell you, but this place has a powerful affect on me.’ Rema spoke in a quiet whisper. But I do feel like I have been here before. The shape of those mountains, the smell, the friendliness of the people, it’s just as though....’ he struggled to find the words and so left them hanging in the air.’

They walked all around the town exploring and as the sun fell quickly toward the western horizon once more, found themselves a little inland, and on a rough but well used track which ended running along the beach towards where the
Scoria
had almost foundered the day before. Suddenly Rema froze. Serenna was startled at his action.

‘Rema what is wrong, what has happened?’ She saw that he was struggling deeply with some emotion, and he kept glancing furtively all around. ‘Rema, what is wrong, what has upset you?’ He didn’t answer, but held up his hand as though demanding her silence. She fell quiet, but nonetheless worried at his sudden change. She waited.

‘This place.’ Rema spoke after a time, in a whisper, and pointed to the view along the beach. ‘Those old huts and ruins there in the trees. I feel something. It is impossible, but I feel something here that has to do with me. Serenna this is too much...’ his voice trailed off and she saw that he was crying, soundlessly, but the tears were streaming down his face.’

‘Rema, please tell me what is upsetting you. What do you feel?’

  But he had no time to reply, for at that moment a voice cried out from behind them. With a start they turned as one, and there walking quickly towards them was an old woman. She was calling out and crying at the same time so her words were indistinct. Not far behind was the farmer with whom they had shared a conversation earlier in the day.

Rema’s eyes narrowed as he watched the woman approach, for her cries were suddenly unmistakable.

‘Remy, Remy you have returned! My dear boy, it is you! Remy you are returned!’

Serenna was stunned. But not as much as Rema Bowman, for his life was changing abruptly once more.

The old woman was almost breathless as she came up and stood before Rema. She held her arms out and placed them on his shoulders, for although old, she was tall and handsome in the manner of one who has accepted the passing of her life with a joy mixed with deep sorrow. The lines around her wrinkled face were those which spoke of great perseverance and also hope, and held a gentle smile despite her agitation.

‘Oh Remy, I knew that one day you would return. It‘s me, your kinkindma, Rosylyn. Do you not remember; for this was the very place I saw you last. It was here they took you; it was here that your kindma died trying to save you, and all about are the remains of that battle. Do you not remember Remy Cantira?’

And surely Rema did, for he sunk to the ground and he saw it all again, the last and deeply buried memory of his long lost childhood.

All around was fire and burning and people screaming and fleeing and dying. He was sitting in the dirt and screaming for his kindma, and as she came for him, calling his name over and over, ‘Remy! Remy!’ a vicious sword from nowhere cut her down and then a rough arm grabbed him and he saw little more except the angry face of a youth who tried to reach for him, but he tripped and fell headlong; and then nothing...