Black Stones

Lost In The Storm

"So you gave him the sword?" Ann asks a few hours later. We are aboard Dauntless, her new paint and wood sparkling in the sun. We had set sail not an hour before, and are now sailing at a good fifteen knots.
"I did," I confirm, "and he seemed more taken with it than even I was."
"Impossible," Ann snorts, "you loved that thing like it was your own child."
"True, but now I have a new child," I laugh, and pat Dauntless's railing affectionately.
"Cap'n!" Amos calls out from the main deck, "lookout sees some nasty clouds to the south!" I take out my spyglass and peer out across the water.
"Well he isn't wrong," I say with a frown as I look at the black billowing clouds on the horizon, "but I think that they'll miss us."
I was wrong. Not an hour later, the storm is on top of us. The wind shrieks, water sprays over the rails, rain stings my face and leaves me almost blind, waves as high as the quarter deck rage all around us, and the crude pumps are being overwhelmed by the sheer amount of water sent into the hold.
"Take in the sails!" I order. I had already called for them to be reefed, so that the wind wouldn't rip them away, but now it is clear that isn't enough. Men scamper up the rigging, holding desperately to the ropes as waves try their hardest to tear them away. I myself had taken the helm some time ago, replacing an exhausted Amos. He is now in charge of the deck, and making sure Ann doesn't make an appearance. I had ordered her and Benedict below to relative safety, but knowing her she is just as likely to follow my orders as she is to marry the king of England, particularly when they are designed to keep her safe. I stand at the helm for seems like hours, a never ending battle of strength, fighting for control over my ship with the sea itself.
"Strider!" I yell out to the only other man brave enough, or stupid enough, to stay on the quarter deck, "I need you! Help me hold the wheel!" I don't hear a response, but the pressure on my tired arms lessons as the powerful man grabs ahold of the wheel. The two of us stay like that for a while longer, until I catch a glimpse of a sight that fills me with dread. In front of my ship is a sheer wall of water, black as night and tall as the forward mast.
"Rouge Wave!" I yell desperately, "hold onto something!" I clutch the wheel and shut my eyes as the wave hits dead on. I had been taught angles by Ben so I could better understand cannon shot, but it translates easily to the angle of the deck beneath my feet as we began to climb the monster. Five degrees, then ten, fifteen, twenty, and doesn't stop until we are nearly vertical. Then the wave crashes down around us, miraculously sparing the ship, but washing everything not tied down over the side. Extra sails, barrels, creates, and men, all washed away into the inky black water. I stand back up, gasping for breath, when I hear a terrified cry.
"Captain Will! Help!" Amos screams. I search the deck quickly, my eyes falling on my friend, desperately clutching to the outside of a rail, feet dangling in the air. Before I can reply, a second wave washes over the ship. It isn't nearly as large as the first, but it is enough to loosen Amos's grip, and he falls over the side, any cry he might have made lost in the storm. My response comes instinctively and without thought.
"Strider! Hold the wheel!" I order, then grab a stray rope and jump over the side after my friend.
"Amos!" I yell when I resurface, searching the water desperately. Finally when I had almost given up hope, I see movement in the water. I swim desperately, and upon finding no one, dive below the waves. Just below me, I can barley make out a human shape. I swim downwards, and tie the rope tightly around him. And it isn't a moment to soon, as the rope goes taunt, indicating that the storm is driving the ship away from us. I pull myself up, slowly dragging the lifeless Amos behind me, struggling against the water and waves that seem determined to drag us down to the bottom. I battle my way through, all the way back to the ship, and haul myself aboard. I find myself immediately brought into a tight hug.
"I thought I lost you," Ann chokes out.
"Well you didn't, I say gently, "and we didn't lose Amos either." I look at the young man, gasping for breath on the deck next to me.
"Get him below," I order, "with some dry cloths and hot food. He'll need it after that." Ann nods, then leaves me, helping him below. I catch my breath, and then head back up to the helm. Waiting is Strider, looking at me in complete shock.
"Why did you do that?" He asks completely at a loss, "I understand that the negro is a talented seaman, but why would you risk yourself to save him? Surely you could afford to replace him." I shake my head sadly. For some people, the world revolves around money, and they can never rationalize what I did. Strider is clearly one of those people.
"Your mistake," I tell him, "is that you think it was because of the money. That couldn't be farther from the truth. I saved him, because he is my friend, and companion. He trusts me, like everyone else on this ship, to protect him and help him anyway I can, no matter the cost to myself. And I trust them to do the same for me if they had to. It's called loyalty, something you and your kind will never understand."
The storm is starting to calm, and Strider leaves. He has a look of trouble on his face, as if just now realizing there is something in this world other than money. I watch him leave, then return to the task at hand, glad that the vile mercenary is gone.

Later that night, after the storm had disappeared, I fall into my bed for a well deserved rest. Unfortunately, rest is the last thing I get. Instead, I have another dream.
It's dark, I can't see anything, not even my own hands. Then the whispers start.
You failed us.
You could have saved us.
We are dead because of you.
They are threatening, terrifying. And what makes them worse is that they are the voices of people who I loved the most.
The darkness fades, and I'm aboard the Scorpion, fire burning all around. Captain Gold is fending off attackers all around him, but his gaze is locked on me.
"You could have done more," he accuses, then is felled by an unseen blade. Next to him, Little Tim fights savagely, but his stare is just as deadly.
"You failed us," he tells me, then falls to the ground in a puff of musket smoke.
Then I'm falling backwards into a whale boat. I watch as a woman above me stands bravely on the rail, fending off attackers so that I could escape, and then she's killed. I watch helplessly as Rachel falls next to me, blood staining her shirt.
"It is all... your... fault," she chokes out, before dying in my arms.
Then I'm aboard Mars, looking at Ben. A red stain is growing quickly on his shirt, and there is a far away look in his eyes.
"You're the reason I'm dead," he whispers, "if you hadn't stopped me, I would still be alive."
"No, No!" I scream. Suddenly I'm surrounded by all the people I once called friends, who are now coming back for revenge.
"We are all dead because of you," they say, "and we will not be the last."
I'm aboard Dauntless. It's dark, the sun is just beginning to rise, making the water appear to be a sea of flames. In the distance is the silhouette of a ship. I don't know how I knew this, but I had to reach the ship. There is something important on board, very important, and something dreadful was going to happen. I come within fifty feet, before the ship explodes. I feel the flames shoot out, feel my heart ripped out of my chest, and the fire consumes me as a single word screams through my mind.

"Ann!" I scream, sitting straight up in bed, panting heavily. The panic I felt slowly recedes, and I feel a hand on my shoulder.
"Will are you alright?" Ann asks next to me. I start to tell her yes, that I'm fine and to go back to sleep, but the words refuse to leave my lips.
"No, I'm not alright," I say lowering my head, "I had another dream. I watched them die Ann."
"Who?" She asks.
"Everyone," I reply miserably, "Gold, Tim, Rachel, Ben, all of them. They were blaming me for their deaths, said that I could have done more to save them, that it was my fault they are gone."
"Hog wash," Ann tells me, "there was nothing you could do."
"That isn't the point Ann!" I cry, "the point is that they are dead, and I couldn't stop it! I couldn't protect the ones I loved no matter how hard I tried. And if I couldn't protect them, how can I possibly protect anyone who's left? How can I protect Benedict, or Amos? How can I protect you?"
Instead of answering, Ann rolls over on top of me, pressing her warm body against mine.
"Is this moment real?" She whispers in my ear.
"Yes but-" I start, but am silenced when she pushes her finger firmly against my mouth.
"I am real," she continues, "and your dream is not. You didn't fail to protect them Will, it was just their time to go. You saved Amos's life today, you braved the waters to bring out a friend. You did that Will. And I have confidence that if I were ever in trouble, or Benedict, or Amos, or anyone you care about, that you will find a way to protect us. Because that is who you are."
She presses herself more firmly against me, and leans in close, laying a kiss on my cheek.
"I am real, and that feeling of loss is not," she repeats, "so let's live in the real. Can you do that for me?" I nod slowly, and surrender myself to her arms, but I can't help but worry that there will come a day, that my protection won't be enough.