Voyage of the Owl (17 page)

The great
Sea Dragon
drifted until it smashed into a mass of lichen-covered rocks. Waves pounded it on the rocks again and again. Seagulls wheeled and mewed curiously. A great hole crunched in the ship’s hull, near the bow. Seawater poured in, filling the hull in moments.

Then as suddenly as it began, the music stopped. Sedah soldiers found themselves inexplicably struggling in the ocean when a second before they had been about to board the Tiregian pirate ship.

The captain of the
Sea Dragon
woke up to find his deck tipping at a dangerous angle. There was a sickening crunch. He realised his worst nightmares had come true. His ship was sinking.

‘Abandon ship!’ the captain screamed. The men
needed no second invitation. They ran for the lifeboats, scrambling and fighting. Many of them made it.

Slowly and relentlessly, the
Sea Dragon
sank to the sea floor, taking everything left on board.

In Tira, the royal prisoners were once again enjoying the sunshine and fresh air of the herb garden. They were now allowed to stay out for an hour a day. Most days, Governor Lazlac stopped by for a short chat. Queen Ashana tried her best to be civil to him, knowing that the future of her son, her subjects and the other prisoners depended entirely on his whim.

Sure enough, Governor Lazlac soon arrived to pass the time of day. The soldiers on guard seemed more relaxed.

‘Good morning, Lady Ashana,’ said Governor
Lazlac, twitching his face into a grimace that passed for a smile. ‘I bear good news.’

Queen Ashana smiled politely but her heart beat more quickly. Did he bring news of her son, Prince Caspar, or perhaps of Princess Roana? Not a waking moment passed when she did not think of her two distant children and wonder if they were safe and well.

‘I have decided to release you from your prison cell,’ Lord Lazlac announced pompously. ‘It is no place for a lady of noble birth. I have ordered that the servants prepare a simple cottage in the grounds of the palace where you may dwell with your ladies-in-waiting.’

Queen Ashana nearly gasped in shock.

‘Will you return my son to me?’ she asked immediately.

‘No,’ retorted Lord Lazlac. ‘As you know, it pleases Emperor Raef to have your son sent to Sedah soon. It is only as regards to you that our plans have changed.’

‘What of the gentlemen who share our cell?’ Queen Ashana asked. ‘Will you release them also?’

‘No,’ replied Lord Lazlac. ‘The gentlemen stay where they are. I prefer to have them safely under lock and key.’

Queen Ashana said nothing, turning this development over carefully in her mind.

‘At this point, it may behove you to thank me,’ Lord Lazlac barked sulkily.

Queen Ashana sighed inwardly. Her own comfort did not concern her as much as the welfare of her children. Yet she must keep playing the game. Perhaps if she charmed the odious Lazlac with her wit and guiles, he would consent to Caspar coming home again.

Queen Ashana smiled prettily, sweeping a shallow curtsey.

‘Of course, Lord Lazlac,’ Queen Ashana simpered. ‘I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I was simply overcome with emotion. It will be delightful to sleep above ground once more.’

The gentle irony was lost on the Sedah governor. He bowed deeply, grimacing once more.

‘I will send one of the servants to show you to your new abode this very morning. I will call on you there in the next few days to see how you have settled in.’

‘Thank you, Lord Lazlac,’ replied Queen Ashana with a nod. ‘But you must not trouble yourself. I understand that you must be very busy with the tribulations of running a kingdom.’

‘No trouble. No trouble at all,’ replied Governor Lazlac. He bowed and left, nodding briefly to Lord Mortimer.

Lord Mortimer’s heart sank, his face pale and gaunt with black rings under his eyes.

‘My lord,’ Lord Mortimer cried out pitifully, ‘I must speak with you. I beseech you.’

Lord Lazlac walked faster.

‘Good day, Mortma,’ called Lord Lazlac over his shoulder. ‘No time to talk. Affairs of state, you know.’

It was Cookie herself who came to escort Queen Ashana and the ladies to their new cottage. It was a simple gardener’s cottage, only four rooms square, but had been scrubbed and cleaned. Cookie had placed vases of fresh flowers in every room and furnished it with little luxuries that she thought might comfort the queen.

Once the ladies were installed in the cottage, Queen Ashana begged her ladies-in-waiting to leave her alone with Cookie and Marnie in the small sitting room. Queen Ashana hugged Cookie warmly, who flushed deep red with delight.

‘Cookie,’ Queen Ashana murmured, ‘I must thank you for the food and the notes. I am sure we may well have died in those dreadful dungeons without your help. Would we not, Marnie?’

Cookie humbly demurred, her eyes bright with pleasure.

‘Tell us, please, dear Cookie,’ Queen Ashana begged. ‘What of Princess Roana and the other children? Please tell us what you know.’

So Cookie whispered all that she knew of the children’s flight from the palace in the garbage cart, their secret stay at the White Horse Inn, their close escape from Sniffer at Ainsley and their rendezvous with the smuggler Fox, before sailing away on the
Owl
.

Queen Ashana and Marnie went pale with fright at the adventures of their precious children.

‘At least they are safe now,’ Queen Ashana cried. ‘Thank the Goddess they are safely away from that terrible Sniffer and the Sedahs. After all, what could possibly happen to them on a ship?’

Together the three women wept a little with fear and relief and hope. Cookie promised to let them know if she learned anything at all, and she left the queen and Marnie to enjoy their new comfort and space.

No longer flying, the
Owl
limped away from the scene of the wreck, under reduced sail. To the east
were scattered a finger of small islands and rocky outcrops.

Jack sat on watch, searching for a suitable cove to anchor. After a few kilometres they found another rocky island, with a small cove, sheltered and narrow, that was well hidden from the sea and protected from above by steep cliffs.

The anchors were lowered. Carl and Jack made a thorough tour of the
Owl
, taking note of all the damage and making lists of tasks to be done.

The bo’sun’s store was well stocked with rope, timber and tools. It would be a laborious job to mend the damage to the
Owl
and make her ready for the long journey home.

Everyone set to work – sewing, gluing, hammering, sawing, splicing and knotting.

Without Otto, the repairs were slow and painstaking. Much of the rigging had been sliced, and needed to be spliced back together again. Spars and booms had snapped, and needed to be lashed together or replaced. Sails had ripped and needed to be sewn and repaired.

Fox still lay semi-conscious in his bunk. Lily changed his dressings and dribbled water down his throat periodically.

That evening everyone fell into their sail nests
leaden with tiredness, but it was impossible to sleep, their minds churning with turmoil, their hearts sick and their mouths tasting of bitter failure.

Over the next few days, all four children grew even more weary. The work was monotonous and tedious. They were unskilled at boat building, and much of their work was clumsy and needed to be redone. All day, the sun beat down. Bodies were drenched in sweat. Tempers frayed.

On the third afternoon of repairs, Ethan stomped towards the bow carrying an armload of newly spliced rope. His fingers ached from long hours of fiddly work. His fingertips were rubbed raw. His eyes ached from squinting at his work. His head ached from the sun beating relentlessly down and the light shards bouncing off the sea.

Up above, Saxon and Carl clambered in the rigging, adjusting ropes and knots. Jack and Lily sat in the stern, folding sails. Fox was still recuperating down below, watched over by an anxious Mia.

Ethan cursed softly under his breath as he stubbed his bare toe on a hammer lying on the deck.

Limping forward, he discovered Roana curled up with Charcoal in a nest of sails, fast asleep. Ethan swore again, dropping his armful of ropes on the deck.

‘Roana!’ he roared. ‘By the mighty Sun Lord!’

Roana started with a jump. Her eyes flew open.

‘You’re supposed to be mending those sails! Not sleeping on them!’

Roana tossed her head fretfully. The effect would have been much more eloquent if she still had her long golden ringlets, instead of short, cropped hair.

‘I needed to rest,’ Roana retorted sulkily. Charcoal stretched, arching her back and yawned prettily, staring at Ethan with her big green eyes. She started to wash one paw nonchalantly.

‘Oh, your
highness
needed a rest while the rest of your lackeys have to work!’ Ethan shouted sarcastically. ‘Poor little highness! Did you ever think that we may never get back to Tiregian if we don’t all pull together and help get this ship sailing again?’

‘I do not care,’ Roana replied, leaping to her feet, and staring at Ethan defiantly. ‘I cannot keep stitching these dreadful sails a moment longer. I am tired!’

‘And you think we are not?’ Ethan cried. ‘We are all tired, and sick to death of working on this ship. But we need to get home! You have to help too.’

‘I shall not.’

‘You have to.’

‘I will not. You cannot make me.’

Ethan leaned forward to grab Roana by the wrist. Roana slapped him hard across the face.

Ethan gulped in shock. Roana went white, then red. A large red welt bloomed up on Ethan’s cheek.

Neither one spoke for a long moment.

‘I am not one of your maid servants to be slapped in a temper,’ Ethan said softly. ‘We are all supposed to be working together equally – working as a team.’

Ethan swung on his heel and stalked off, his head held very high.

Roana felt sick and her eyes smarted with tears. She felt furiously angry. Angry with Ethan. Angry with herself. Angry with the whole world. But underneath the anger was a flicker of shame, because she knew that Ethan was right. Roana defiantly climbed back into her nest of sails and scooped Charcoal into her lap for a stroke. Charcoal kneaded her paws happily, gradually soothing Roana with her contented purring.

Lily and Saxon had heard the commotion and come forward tentatively. Aisha whined, hating the tension in the air.

Lily and Saxon had a whispered consultation.

‘Let’s just leave them both alone for a while,’ advised Saxon. ‘They’re better working it out
themselves. You know what Ethan is like when he’s angry. He’s like a bear with a sore head, lashing out at anyone, and I’d rather it wasn’t me!’

Lily reluctantly agreed, so they both went back to their jobs. Roana defiantly stayed in her bags of sails, stroking Charcoal vigorously. Gradually the anger evaporated, leaving Roana feeling ashamed. Eventually she picked up her needle and thread and started sewing sails again, while rebellious thoughts churned around in her head.

By dinnertime, Ethan’s anger had also cooled, leaving him with an icy resolution not to talk to Roana, perhaps ever again. Roana threw together a quick meal of cold meat, cheese and bread, which they all ate hungrily.

Dinner was a very solemn affair, with Roana and Ethan ignoring each other, each sitting in a glum silence. Lily and Saxon chatted brightly, but they were also tired and fed up, and soon lapsed into silence as well.

Carl noted the long faces and silent tension.

‘Cheer up, mates,’ Carl cried. ‘The repairs are coming along beautifully. We should be able to sail the
Owl
home to Tiregian in another day or so.’

Lily and Saxon offered a weak grin. Ethan scowled. Roana tossed her head and pursed her lips.

‘That is, if the Sedahs don’t find us first. And if Rowan and Ethan here are able to settle their differences,’ Carl added. Ethan scowled more ferociously and Roana went even redder.

‘You know, sailors have a creed that helps make shipboard life bearable,’ Carl continued. ‘Ships are too small to contain a quarrel for very long. So sailors always say that you should never let the sun set upon an argument. Squabbles only fester and grow worse overnight. That would make the journey impossible. Anyway, think on that.’

Carl went to keep Fox company in his cabin. Jack climbed into his hammock and started playing a mournful tune on his harmonica. Lily went to feed the scraps to the animals. Saxon hurriedly jumped to his feet to help tidy up.

With a loud clatter, Ethan gathered up the bowls and trenchers from the table, and carried them outside to wash at the stern. Roana sat alone at the table, thinking.

Finally, she stood up and strode off to the small sail locker where they all slept, banging the door after her.

At the stern, Ethan sloshed and scrubbed, venting his frustration on the dirty plates. The hard work gradually calmed him and his thoughts turned
from the churning tumult in his head to the peaceful beauty of the night around him. Overhead stretched the huge sky, blazing with thousands of brilliant stars and the perfect scythe of the waxing moon.

He heard the continuous sound of the waves rolling on the beach. He felt the gentle rocking of the boat. He smelled the fresh, cool air with its salty tang.

A small noise caught his attention. Behind him stood Roana, her face flaming.

‘Ethan. I wish to apologise for my behaviour today,’ Roana said in a rush, her voice haughty but low. ‘It was unforgivable of me to strike you, and I was wrong to sleep while everyone else laboured. I hope you will accept my apology.’

Without waiting for a response, Roana turned and ran back the way she had come.

Ethan sat, stunned.

‘Roana, wait!’ he called after her. ‘Roana. It’s all right, and I’m sorry too! I guess it’s just that we are all so devastated that we didn’t find the Moon Pearl. We all need a really good night’s sleep.’

Roana heard and waved in awkward acknowledgement. She felt like a large load had been lifted from her shoulders.

Ethan sat on the stern, looking up once more at the iridescent heavens. He swayed with tiredness. A huge feeling of frustration welled up inside him. They had escaped from the
Sea Dragon
for the time being, thanks to the help of the Merrow maid.