Storms of Destiny (59 page)

Two down,
Eregard thought.
Where are Jezzil and Thia?

He was a bit concerned about Talis. She had jumped over on the northwest side of the ship, which would necessitate her swimming quite a distance to get clear of the
Pride
and then all the way around her. He told himself to relax, Talis was probably as competent at swimming as she was at everything else. He couldn’t believe she’d managed to hold off Kerezau for as long as she had.

Without warning, the door to Falar’s pen opened. Eregard leaped up. “Jezzil! Khith has a plan—swim southeast!

There’s one of the seaweed islands, we can regroup there!”

He heard Jezzil’s voice, though no one was visible. “Did Khith cause that explosion?”

“Yes,” Eregard said. “It planned the whole thing, but we couldn’t get word to Talis.”

“Where is Talis?”

“She fought with the Redai, held him off, then I told her to go over the side. Khith just went. It’s your turn, my friend.

Can you swim?”

Eregard heard a low chuckle. “Anything to get off this cursed ship, my friend.”

Eregard suddenly focused and pointed. “There’s Thia. I’ll go get her.”

“Let me,” Jezzil’s voice came back. “You’ve done your part. Over you go.”

Eregard sketched a half salute. The door to Falar’s pen burst open and the mare bolted out at full stride. The Prince turned, ran for the railing, and executed a clean, precise dive into the Narrow Sea.

Thia stood on the deck, wondering how soon one of the Chonao guards would spot her and kill her. The tumult over Master Khith’s explosion was dying down. There wasn’t as much smoke streaming out of the hole in the
Pride
’s side, and the loud clanging as the cannons rolled around belowdecks had stopped.

She’d seen Talis leap off the ship, and Khith, too. She knew that was the plan, but couldn’t make herself jump, no matter how hard she tried. She had never learned to swim, and the green-blue depths surrounding the vessel frightened her beyond reason.

She wondered what the others would think when she didn’t join them. Master Khith said they could reach one of those floating islands of seaweed not too far away. If only she could make herself jump!

She took a hesitant step closer to the railing, then halted.
I
can’t. I just can’t.

As she stood hesitating, shielding her eyes from the sun, trying to spot her friends in the water, Thia heard the drum of hoofbeats. She looked up to see Falar bolting toward her at what seemed a full gallop.

She tried to throw herself aside, but as the mare swooped past, an invisible hand grabbed the back of her dress, jerking her off her feet. Thia emitted one short-lived scream as she was dragged up across the horse, then the mare launched herself—straight over the railing.

They were falling, falling …

Time seemed to stop, then rushed past at a speed even more dizzying than the horse’s. Equine and passengers hit the water with a tremendous splash.

The water was cold and salty—it seemed to shock her entire body like a bolt of lightning. Thia threw up her hands as she felt herself plunging down, down. Her skirts weighed her down, pulling her ever deeper, until she was lost in the cold, wet darkness. She opened her eyes, felt seawater sting them, but couldn’t see anything except silvery bubbles and dark green water.

Soon she would have to breathe, and it would all be over.

She hung there, weightless, suspended in time and water.

If not for the increasing need to breathe, the pressure in her chest, the sensation might have been pleasant.

Then something grabbed her hair and yanked her upward.

Thia’s head broke the surface, coughing and choking, too ecstatic at having real air to breathe to even notice her rescuer for a moment. Blinking water out of her eyes, she gasped. “Jezzil!”

“At your service,” he said, grinning at her. She’d never seen him smile so widely, look so carefree. He was holding her up on the surface seemingly without effort, moving his legs and one arm lazily.

“You saved me,” she said stupidly.

“I was just repaying the favor,” he replied. “That was quite a show you put on. I don’t imagine that Kerezau has seen too many like it.”

Despite her situation, Thia managed a weak laugh. “I was surprised how much I enjoyed myself,” she admitted. “But, Jezzil, what now? I can’t swim.”

“You don’t have to,” he said. “We’ll lighten you a bit, get rid of some of those skirts, then Falar can tow you.”

“How will you—” She broke off as he held up a knife.

“How did you—” But he was already gone, slipping under the surface as smoothly as a sea creature in one of the ancient texts she’d copied.

She let out a squawk of protest as she began to sink, but then she felt his grasp, supporting her from beneath. There were tugs at her skirt and petticoats. A final, hard tug and the petticoats were gone altogether. Jezzil surfaced. “One more time,” he said, gasping in a huge breath.

Moments later she realized that about half of her skirt was gone. Her legs from the knee down were unencumbered.

Jezzil bobbed up again. “And now to regroup,” he said.

Quickly, he towed her over to Falar, who had been swimming back and forth beside them. “You’re going to hold her mane,”

he said, “and kick your legs. Keep kicking, or you might sink and she might strike you with her hooves. Understand?”

Thia managed to nod, then grasped the mare’s soaked, coarse mane with both hands. She began kicking.

Effortlessly, Falar towed her through the water. It took only moments before they reached Khith. The little Hthras leaned on its medicine bag, which was floating very well indeed.

“Ahoy!” Jezzil called out as they approached. “Master Khith! Where are Eregard and Talis?”

Khith shook its head. Its fur was slick as a sea lion’s, plas-tered against its head. “I know not, Jezzil,” it said. “When Talis did not join us, Eregard went to look for her. She jumped into the sea on the wrong side of the ship.” It lifted an arm to point. “Our destination lies that way.”

Thia narrowed her eyes and could barely make out a line on the horizon.

Jezzil was looking back at the
Pride
. They had drifted a little way from the ship, and Thia could see the concern on his face. “Perhaps I should go look for them,” the Chonao said.

“I am concerned,” Khith admitted. “But let us wait a few more minutes.”

They waited … and waited.

Jezzil spent his time teaching Thia to tread water, as he termed it. It was a relief to no longer have to depend on an outside source to keep her from sinking.

All the while she was occupied, however, Thia felt her fear building. Where were Talis and Eregard?

Eregard was swimming. It had been a long time since he’d been in the water, but as a boy growing up on an island, he’d learned to swim as well as the rest of the Pelanese children, and better than many. Swimming was the one thing he’d been able to beat Salesin at, and the first time he had, Salesin refused to compete with his younger brother anymore.

His long strokes and rhythmic kicks carried him alongside the
Pride
quickly and nearly effortlessly. His work on the plantations had hardened him, made him much stronger, and that paid off now.

Where is Talis?
he wondered, pausing to tread water and look around.
This is close to the spot where she jumped
overboard.

He scanned the water’s surface over and over, and finally saw her. She was swimming in the wrong direction, and, from her movements, nearing the end of her strength.

Eregard swam after her. He was afraid to call her name loudly; they were still within arrow range of the ship. In all the confusion, no one had seemed to take much note of their departures, but there was no point in calling attention to themselves.

Talis’s strokes were slow now, leaden. It was plain she was exhausted.
No wonder,
Eregard thought.
All that sword-fighting, then having to swim for it.
He knew how easily a swimmer could become disoriented and swim in the wrong direction. Talis must have been swimming alongside the
Pride
for half an hour; an inordinate distance for a novice swimmer.

Just as he came within hailing distance of her, Talis’s strokes shortened even more, then degenerated into aimless thrashing. He could hear her struggling to breathe, then she swallowed water and went under. She surfaced again a moment later, but all pretext of swimming was gone. She was fighting to stay on the surface, with little success.

Eregard paused. A panic-stricken, exhausted swimmer was the most dangerous variety. He called softly, “Talis!

Talis, I’m here. I’ll help you. Take it easy.”

She didn’t hear him. Lost in her struggle to breathe, she fought the water.

Eregard steeled himself, then went toward her. He could tell that she didn’t recognize him, only saw him as something to climb up on so she could keep breathing. She lunged at him, grabbing, trying to climb atop him.

Eregard felt a surge of fear before he remembered the old guardsman who had taught him to swim. “If they sees yeh as nothin’ but a rock t’climb on, give ’em a duckin’. Works ever’ time.”

He raised his arms and took them both under. The moment Talis felt the water close over her head, she let go of him and began trying to reach the surface again.

Eregard came back up with a rush, and then, as she threw herself at him again, raised his fist.

Talis’s trajectory took her straight into it; she went limp.

Eregard wrapped one hand in her long hair, streaming out around her like the tresses of the fabled Sea Maidens that would follow ships, crying and wailing for sailors to take them as their wives.

He began swimming again, a resting stroke on his side, stroke and kick, then glide, heading around the
Pride
toward the others. He’d been swimming for several minutes when he heard her voice. “Eregard?”

He stopped, treaded water, and tentatively let go of her hair. “Yes, mistress?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking at him. “I don’t even know what happened. I lost my head. I couldn’t breathe.”

“I know, mistress,” he said. “It’s all right. Happens to even good swimmers sometimes.”

“I thought I could swim well, but I learned in the fish-pond,” she said ruefully, brushing a long strand of hair off her face. “I was never in the sea before. It’s so big. And so deep.”

“Yes, mistress, it is,” Eregard said.

Talis made a face. “Goddess smite you, stop calling me that!”

Eregard fought not to smile. “Very well, mis—” He trailed off, then grinned. “My apologies.”

Talis grinned back ruefully. “From now on it’s just Talis. I think I can swim a bit now.”

“We’ll go together, then,” he promised.

Something flashed into the water between them, then another streaking shape fell short. Eregard beckoned to Talis.

“Arrows! Swim with me!”

They headed out, away from the ship and the small crowd of crossbow-carrying Chonao that lined the railing.

As they swam, Eregard coached Talis, and when she tired, he towed her until she regained her strength. Seeing that they were out of range, the Chonao quickly lost interest.

By the time they reached the others, they’d nearly been given up for dead. The little group began swimming, with Thia and Talis clinging to Falar’s mane and kicking, one on each side. They swam for nearly an hour, taking breaks to rest, and then suddenly the seaweed island that Khith had spotted with the borrowed eyes of a seabird was directly in front of them.

Khith, who was the lightest, was the first one up onto the mat of seaweed. Thia and Talis followed. Despite their exhaustion, they moved as briskly as they could, gathering driftwood to reinforce the seaweed, so Falar would be able to find purchase.

By late afternoon all five, plus Falar, were perched on the dubious safety of the seaweed island. They could move around, except for Falar, whose hooves were so sharp she tended to cut through the interwoven, matted growth. Jezzil made the mare hunker down with her legs folded beneath her, then brought her handfuls of the most succulent seaweed to eat.

The rest of the group simply sat, half dozing, trying to regain their strength.

Finally, Eregard sat up straight and looked around. All sight of the
Pride
had vanished. They were alone, with no land nearby for many leagues in any direction. They had almost no food or water, no warm clothing, and no prospect of rescue.

“There’s an old Pelanese phrase,” he said, “something about ‘out of the kettle and into the coals.’ Seems to me that applies now, doesn’t it?”

Four faces turned to him. He smiled wryly. “So, what now, my friends?”

“What now, indeed?” Khith asked, echoing Eregard’s question. The Hthras gazed at its companions, thinking that they were hardly a prepossessing lot, though their long swim had rendered Jezzil, Thia, and Eregard considerably cleaner and more pleasant to be near. “Now we must think about ways to signal for rescue. We are in a well-traveled shipping lane.

Surely a ship will happen by within the next few days.”