Of Heroes and Happenings

Rowan, Chapter 4

As the enchantment of being bound to the wyvern faded, Rowan felt only relief, until the realization dawned that she was alone on deck with angry sailors who counted her as a pirate. She clambered awkwardly to her feet. As soon as Rowan was upright and had taken a single step, whoever held the rope attached to her jerked it hard. The head of the ballista bolt held true within her; Rowan couldn't control a cry of pain as she was pulled forward. She fell to her knees as a burly half-orc raced up the stairs to where she knelt. He gripped Rowan by the neck and dangled her over the rail on the port side.

"Talk!" he ordered roughly, "or I drop you now."

Just above the waves and a short distance behind the ship, Rowan could see the outline of Omaira's shell, shimmering in the sunlight. The dragon-turtle easily maintained pace with the ship, as none of the sails were up. "Please," she gasped through the stranglehold on her throat. "Anything you ask! Just please, please don't drop me! Please?"

"Why did you attack this ship?" He feigned dropping her as Rowan struggled to draw a proper breath with which to answer. "My hands are sticky with blood," he warned. "Talk, before I lose my grip!"

"I was ordered to!" Rowan gasped out.

"By whom?" asked the sailor who'd thrown the fire blasts.

"Pirate Captain!" managed Rowan. Lights danced before her eyes.

"Why?" This question came from the half-orc, accompanied by a slight easing of his grip.

"You strayed into Omaira's waters, and the crew is almost out of supplies and food." Omaira neared the ship. Rowan gasped for air. "Please, I'm begging you . . . Kill me if you will, but . . . please don't drop me!"

"What crew?" asked the captain.

Rowan sucked in precious air. "Pirates, in a cave, on the island back there." She struggled for another breath, and added, "Omaira patrols these waters; as long as the pirates leave the gold for him, he finds the ships."

"Who is Omaira?" asked the half-orc with a lack of true curiosity.

"Dragon-turtle!" managed Rowan. She used the last of her reserve of air for a quiet, "please."

"Captain?" asked the half-orc, looking to the man for guidance.

"Normally, I'd say throw her overboard, but . . ."

Before he could finish speaking, Rowan felt herself plummeting down toward the waves. The bolt and rope halted her descent and swung her forward to dangle directly below the ballista that anchored them. Rowan screamed in fear and agony as her descent was arrested by the bolt anchored in her shoulder blade. Desperately, she tried to hold onto the shaft with her useable hand.

Drop, ordered Omaira in Rowan's mind. I will get to you before any sharks do.

"I'm tethered to the ship, Omaira; I can't drop any further." Rowan sobbed for breath as she answered. "Please, don't try to get me; I'll be torn in two!"

A voice above Rowan's head bit out a curse. "Throkk, the captain said 'but!' Was that really necessary?"

"What? He said . . ." defended the half-orc.

"He said, 'but'!"

Rowan felt the bolt jerk in her shoulder as someone started to pull her up, one agonizing tug at a time. By the time a hand grasped the back of her neck to pull Rowan up onto the deck, her breath was a mere pant from the pain that had all but paralyzed her chest wall muscles and diaphragm. Released, Rowan crumpled onto the deck and lay there a moment, waiting for the pain to subside enough for movement. After a moment, she summoned the strength to look up at her rescuer.