Kingdom's Fall

Chapter 23, Part 1

As the Sparrowhawk passed through the sea-wall Kara was right up at the bow, leaning out as far as she could over the forward rail to see how tight the ship's passage truly was. Although the captain had his hands on the wheel, the bulk of what he could capably do to ensure a safe crossing had already been done. They had sailed past the wall twice so that he and the navigator could gauge the conditions. The navigator had almost pulled them out of the attempt, but his natural nervous impulse was countermanded by Aradan's hand on the wheel. Up at the forecastle, Kara could see both sides of the problem. The sea-wall was down, but only just, and the narrow strait that had opened offered no access to gauge the depth. As the opening funnelled the waves in, it created a sudden swell of draught that looked healthy enough for the Sparrowhawk to pass, but even were they to time it just right there was the unshakable feeling that the keel would be peeled off the underside of the ship, scuppering their plans before they could ever begin.

On the other hand, the Islanders were beginning to look restive. Generations of mutual enmity weren't easily dispelled by terms agreed with the young Earl, and the mood had not been favoured by the intemperate weather that had followed them all the way down to the Kingdom's northern coast. The shallow boats that trailed in the Sparrowhawk's wake circled just clear of the currents that dragged towards the wall, their impatient captains always facing the Kingdom ship, waiting for her to act.

As the Sparrowhawk closed on the wall, Kara bit back the urge to lean away from the rail, to close her eyes and hope for the best. There was luck in being bold about it, in facing down the danger, and the ship needed as much luck as Kara could give it. With the high, jagged wall so near it felt as though she could reach out and brush her fingers against it, Kara leaned even further over the rail. The wind was fierce, a powerful draught that felt as though it was lifting the ship up around her, and Kara's joyous cry of defiance was lost in the roar. The spirit she put into it, though, was not. Kara lifted her head as the rest of the crew took up her cry, standing with her by cheering their lungs out. It was meaningless to think it made a difference, she knew, and yet in that moment the Sparrowhawk surged forward, the remains of the sea-wall closing in so tight they seemed set to tear the sides of the ship clean off. In one dizzy instant, they were through. On the far side of the sea-wall, the water was suddenly calm around them and the wind dropped away to nothing more than a breeze. Kara's ears were full of the cheering crew. Looking back, she could see the captain standing square on to his triumph, as casual as could be, with one hand resting absent-minded on the wheel. She couldn't help but laugh at how perfectly he had posed himself. When people told stories of Captain Aradan Walker, first to sail the sea-wall passage, this moment was the picture they would strive to conjure into words.

The celebration lasted no more than a minute. Momentum was all, and the captain's orders - called out in a clear, ringing voice - cut through the cheering and whistling and set the men back to work. Some were sent below decks to check for leaks - that they had felt no impact was no guarantee that it hadn't happened - while others were set to manning the guns. Up ahead, their way was clear; no fleet or defences waited to stop them. In their wake, the Shark - the first of the Islander ships - passed through the gap in the sea-wall with no incident. Kara realised that her heart was pounding, even faster than when they had been coming up to the sea-wall. There was no turning back now.

As they sailed further into the estuary, the captain ordered more frequent soundings. The water ran deep for quite some distance inland, but the channel was narrow, bottoming out rapidly on either side. The last thing they wanted was to have survived the passage inland only to run aground just short of their target. The Islander boats had no such problems, and they forged ahead, plying the calm, level waters with ferocious energy, eager to reach their target. Aiden was staring out at them, standing up on the bowsprit, oblivious to how precarious his position was.