see him slip beneath the surface first. I would not.
‘No.’
‘Are you going to argue with me right to theend? Give me that bag you stubborn, arrogant, obstinate –’
Griffin screamed in triumph and hurtled towards the Jessamine . Were they turning? No – but someone had dropped the ship’s boat. Leap screwed up his face in disgust and launched himself towards the vessel, his body slipping otter-like through the water.
‘Oh, praise for blood,’ Rodden groaned, muttering the harming oath.
We swam the seventy yards, our eyes rooted to the bobbing boat, frightened that it might slip from our reach if we looked away even for an instant. Griffin sat on the stern, shuffling left and right as she watched our slow progress.
Leap reached it and struggled up over the side, his ears flat to his skull. I reached it next, groaning with relief as I hung from the bow, my body still in the water. I found the strength to pull myself up and over and then haul Rodden up too. He lay in the bottom of the boat, gasping like a landed fish.
I scrabbled around, hoping to find emergency supplies. Strapped beneath a seat were a packet of ship’s biscuits and two flasks of water.
Rodden lifted his head. ‘Is there a mast and sail?’
I felt about in the bow, and let out a sigh of relief as my fingers touched canvas. Rodden fought downhis nausea just long enough to raise the mast and rig the sail before collapsing in a fit of puking.
‘Angle the rudder right to go left, and left to go right,’ he gasped. ‘Keep the sail about forty-five degrees perpendicular to the wind.’
I angled the sail and made a grab for the tiller, turning the rudder so we were headed towards the Jessamine . By now it was a mere speck. Soon it would disappear over the rim of the horizon and we would be alone.
I wondered who had dropped the boat. Not Orrik, that was for certain. It must have been Lisson, the red-headed Amentine cook. He’d been so friendly every time I’d gone to him for ginger, an amused, secretive smile playing on his lips.
Whoever it was had saved our lives, but whether it was only so that we might die a thirsty, sun-burnt death on a tiny craft in the middle of the ocean instead of sinking quickly to a watery grave was yet to be determined.
But I was forgetting the third option. The harmings might still get us.
At dusk I checked the bag that Rodden had saved. Itcontained his crossbow, a handful of plain points and some coin. My bow was lost, my beautiful bow that had been my silent companion for the past two years. I mourned it for a moment, and then thanked the stars that I hadn’t joined it at the bottom of the ocean.
Now that the Jessamine was well out of view it was time to find out just how good my harming navigation really was. I closed my eyes, braced myself, and let the tor-line pull tight. The pain that gripped my insides told me we were headed straight to Pol. We’d made excellent progress the previous night, but my heart sank as I realised we were still a long way from the shore. About four days at our present sluggish speed, if I was estimating correctly, and I wasn’t entirely sure that I was. It could be longer.
The sun sank out of sight and the wind all but dropped. It was tempting to call up a breeze but at this time of day there might be harmings in the area. I gripped Rodden’s loaded crossbow in one hand and gazed at the sky. Griffin, who’d dozed through the afternoon, was now a sentinel atop our mast, scanning the heavens. Not for the first time, I was thankful for her alert and steady presence.
Rodden hadn’t moved all day and I was beginning to worry about him. He was already thoroughly dehydrated from his days of illness, and the water wehad wasn’t going to go far. I didn’t dare touch the flasks until moonrise. Then, I poured a little into my hands for Leap and Griffin, took two mouthfuls myself, and helped Rodden into a sitting position.
‘Don’t puke this up,’ I said, and gave him the
‘No.’
‘Are you going to argue with me right to theend? Give me that bag you stubborn, arrogant, obstinate –’
Griffin screamed in triumph and hurtled towards the Jessamine . Were they turning? No – but someone had dropped the ship’s boat. Leap screwed up his face in disgust and launched himself towards the vessel, his body slipping otter-like through the water.
‘Oh, praise for blood,’ Rodden groaned, muttering the harming oath.
We swam the seventy yards, our eyes rooted to the bobbing boat, frightened that it might slip from our reach if we looked away even for an instant. Griffin sat on the stern, shuffling left and right as she watched our slow progress.
Leap reached it and struggled up over the side, his ears flat to his skull. I reached it next, groaning with relief as I hung from the bow, my body still in the water. I found the strength to pull myself up and over and then haul Rodden up too. He lay in the bottom of the boat, gasping like a landed fish.
I scrabbled around, hoping to find emergency supplies. Strapped beneath a seat were a packet of ship’s biscuits and two flasks of water.
Rodden lifted his head. ‘Is there a mast and sail?’
I felt about in the bow, and let out a sigh of relief as my fingers touched canvas. Rodden fought downhis nausea just long enough to raise the mast and rig the sail before collapsing in a fit of puking.
‘Angle the rudder right to go left, and left to go right,’ he gasped. ‘Keep the sail about forty-five degrees perpendicular to the wind.’
I angled the sail and made a grab for the tiller, turning the rudder so we were headed towards the Jessamine . By now it was a mere speck. Soon it would disappear over the rim of the horizon and we would be alone.
I wondered who had dropped the boat. Not Orrik, that was for certain. It must have been Lisson, the red-headed Amentine cook. He’d been so friendly every time I’d gone to him for ginger, an amused, secretive smile playing on his lips.
Whoever it was had saved our lives, but whether it was only so that we might die a thirsty, sun-burnt death on a tiny craft in the middle of the ocean instead of sinking quickly to a watery grave was yet to be determined.
But I was forgetting the third option. The harmings might still get us.
At dusk I checked the bag that Rodden had saved. Itcontained his crossbow, a handful of plain points and some coin. My bow was lost, my beautiful bow that had been my silent companion for the past two years. I mourned it for a moment, and then thanked the stars that I hadn’t joined it at the bottom of the ocean.
Now that the Jessamine was well out of view it was time to find out just how good my harming navigation really was. I closed my eyes, braced myself, and let the tor-line pull tight. The pain that gripped my insides told me we were headed straight to Pol. We’d made excellent progress the previous night, but my heart sank as I realised we were still a long way from the shore. About four days at our present sluggish speed, if I was estimating correctly, and I wasn’t entirely sure that I was. It could be longer.
The sun sank out of sight and the wind all but dropped. It was tempting to call up a breeze but at this time of day there might be harmings in the area. I gripped Rodden’s loaded crossbow in one hand and gazed at the sky. Griffin, who’d dozed through the afternoon, was now a sentinel atop our mast, scanning the heavens. Not for the first time, I was thankful for her alert and steady presence.
Rodden hadn’t moved all day and I was beginning to worry about him. He was already thoroughly dehydrated from his days of illness, and the water wehad wasn’t going to go far. I didn’t dare touch the flasks until moonrise. Then, I poured a little into my hands for Leap and Griffin, took two mouthfuls myself, and helped Rodden into a sitting position.
‘Don’t puke this up,’ I said, and gave him the
Similar Books
