Deathless

Deathless Chapter Fourteen: Hurricane

Chapter Fourteen: Hurricane

The waves pounded incessantly against the hull, like battering rams in a siege, growing higher, rising as the storm drew closer, the clouds of black enveloping the sea like a plague. And the winds howled

Like a wolf in the dead of night, seeking its prey, the winds howled, louder than Sirya had ever thought possible. The winds whipped past her face, and her cheeks stung. Her eyes were streaked with tears as the wind gnawed at them.

The ship rocked back and forth with the waves, threatening to capsize as the enormous waves passed underneath it, lifting it high into the air, or else beating against its hull, threatening to cause a breach.

“What are we going to do?” Sirya shouted over the noise.

“We-We can’t do anything!” Adelca replied, distressed, her face livid. “The winds are too strong. If we turn back, the hurricane will catch up to us anyway!”

Lindale swore as the boat yawned to one side. He stumbled a few steps before catching his balance.

Vanya and Risselyn appeared on the deck, shakily making their way up to the helm. The ship’s turbulent movement caused the ship to sway, and they were forced to use handholds to make any progress.

“What is it?” Risselyn shouted. “Are we under attack?”

“No, look over there!” Sirya replied, pointing.

Risselyn looked over his shoulder and his eyes widened. “A storm? During this time of year? It’s the middle of winter!”

“Winter storms are irregular, yes,” Adelca replied, not taking her eyes off the cyclone that was the hurricane. “But not completely unheard of. There’s no turning back now. We need to get through.”

“A caravel?” Vanya shouted. “Against a hurricane? We won’t survive longer than thirty seconds in a hurricane!”

“Oh, yes we will!” Adelca shouted defiantly. “I’ve fought many a storm in my day, and this one is no different! I’ll get us through alive if it kills me!”

Sirya sighed. She supposed they had no other choice but to trust Adelca. She was right. There was no other way.

She stepped up to the helm, addressing the rest of the crew.

“Secure the rigging! Keep those sails in the air! We’ll need all the speed we can to get through the storm!”

“Keep the sails raised?” Lindale interrupted her. “Are you mad? They’ll get ripped to shreds!”

“They’ll get ripped to shreds regardless in that storm! We need speed if we’re going to get through alive.”

She turned back to her crew. “Gardon, Rahlay, get to the rudder! Be ready to steer on my command! You three, get up to the crow’s nest. See if you can give us a bird’s eye view of the storm!”

Sirya watched the men and women dash around the boat, following Adelca’s commands to the letter. They trusted in her fully, and did not question her orders. Sirya could tell that they had braved many dangers together, and that Adelca was a fully trustworthy and capable leader. For a second, she began to feel hopeful. Perhaps Adelca would get them through yet.

And then they entered the storm. The black, swirling clouds passed overhead, and droplets of water fell from the sky like blood from a wound. The cold rainwater splashed down onto the deck as they charged onwards into the storm.

The seas around them were pitch black now, completely obscured from the blue skies above, and they were in complete chaos, the waves rising higher than their sails, the winds whipping around to no end.