Beyond

Day 5

The storm caught them by noon the next day.

It started with wind. Gentle at first, but it got so that a body could hardly walk straight. Haiv tried to move his hair out of his face about a gazillion times, but it just blew right back again. His hands were already sore from tying and untying lines, in an attempt to keep The Adamantes moving with the wind, and not against it.

When the rain hit them, Haiv and Spir were aloft, ready to let in or out any sail the captain wanted. A few raindrops drooled on the back of Haiv's neck and then the torrent slammed into the hull on the starboard side. The mast shook. Poor Spir lost his balance and slipped off the yard. He shouted in fear, dangling from one hand.

Grinning, Haiv wrapped his legs around the yard and gripped Spir's hand.

"Be careful, Blondie," Haiv shouted over the roaring wind and falling rain, "the storm don't care how often you listen to Auru's Coptics. Even a prayin' man like you will find himself food for the aerpies if he don't watch himself."

Haiv hauled his friend back onto the yard and gave him a moment to catch his breath. Spir gripped the mast with both hands, but he managed to holler, "Isn't it kind of dangerous to be up here?"

"Sure!" Haiv called, "But someone's gotta do it! Just hold on and try not to get hit by lightning!"

Haiv stood on the thick line beneath the yard where they could be supported while they hauled up the main topsail. After a moment of panting, Spir squared his jaw and lowered himself gingerly next to Haiv. The topsails all had to be stowed. They caught so much wind, and with the gusts blowing from seemingly every direction, they could easily tow The Adamantes straight into a wave.

It was difficult work, especially with Spir's unpracticed hands. Water sprayed them from all sides, and the wind grew increasingly more violent. Haiv could no longer hear anything over the roar of the storm. The sail was heavy with water, and slippery too, but eventually Spir and Haiv managed to bind it in place. That done, the pair of them clambered, breathing heavily, down the shrouds. The rain stung Haiv's face and made the ropes slick, but both he and Spir made it down to the deck safely, if soaking wet.

On deck, lamps had been lit to dispel the darkness of the clouds, but Haiv could still hardly see. A few men rushed about securing cargo and hauling lines, though the majority of them would be below at the oars. Haiv was glad he was on rigging duty. Sure climbing up and down the shrouds could be dangerous in this weather, but he was already exhausted from trying to outrun the storm all night and that morning. On top of that, rowing would have probably killed him.

Someone stepped up to them, holding a hand over his eyes to shield them from the furious rain. "Let the topsail out." It was Eamer, his red beard tugging against his chin in the wind.

"What?" Haiv complained. "But we just took it in!"

"Do I look like I care, boy?" Haiv couldn't tell if Eamer was just shouting over the rain or if he was angry.

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Captain's orders. Now, get back up there."

Grumbling, Haiv obediently grabbed Spir by the arm and spun him back toward the main shroud.

"What?" Spir shouted.

"Nothin'," Haiv replied. "The cap'n just gonna get us all killed."

"What do you mean?"

"He's after somethin', Spir," Haiv growled. "I dunno what, but he's willing to let us all drown to get what he wants."

"You're sure?" Spir asked, with an annoying amount of level-headedness.