The Outcasts (A Brotherband Fanfic)

Chapter 11

At sea: south of the Sonderland Coast

   A rose-colored glow was beginning to seep across the horizon, like ink spreading in a pool of water, Arndak thought. He looked around in the strengthening dawn light. The other three small ships of his trading fleet were all in sight, although they had scattered somewhat during the dark hours. The sea was calm and the wind was moderate.

     He looked back to the east. The sun was beginning to show itself above the horizon now, a blindingly bright arc of light that was rapidly growing bigger. To the west, the sea was still in comparative darkness.

     Forward, toward the bow of the ship, he could see members of the crew stirring from their sleep. He decided they'd been resting long enough.

     "Lower the sail!" he ordered. "Shake out those reefs, then send it up again."

     During the dark hours of the night, they had traveled with the big square sail reefed—with part of it bundled up and tied to the yardarm to reduce its area. Now, with daylight, they could take full advantage of the wind. He heard the creaking of ropes as the crew lowered the large yardarm and sail, and set to work of untying the reefing cords. With the sail lowered, the ship gradually lost speed and wallowed in the small waves. He saw the others in the fleet were doing the same thing, then glanced and noticed is nephew, Ernak, standing with nothing to do.

     "Up the mast and take a look around, boy!" he called, and the twelve-year-old turned and began to shinny up the bare pole like a squirrel going up a tree. He reached the small crossbar that served as a lookout position and scanned the ocean on all sides.

     "All clear, Uncle!" his young voice piped. Then he hesitated and peered toward the west again—where the new light was just beginning to reach. "No . . . wait . . . there's something . . ."

     Arndak's heart rate quickened. He resisted the urge to question Ernak. He was a good boy and he'd give a full report when he was more certain of his facts. He'd seen something. Odds were that it was another ship. It could be totally harmless. On the other hand . . . he clasped and unclasped his grip on the steering oar.

     "Stay up there while we hoist the sail again," he called. Then, turning to the sailors who had been loosening the reefs, he called, "Get a move on!"

     His first mate waved acknowledgement. He and three others began heaving on ropes and the yardarms, with the square sail attached, Nathan climbing the mast again. The fabric bellied out in the wind, then steadied and firmed as the crew hauled in on the restraining ropes and brought it under control. The ship began to surge forward through the water once more.

"It's a ship, Uncle!" Ernak called. "A big one! She's got her sail hoisted and she's rowing as well."

     So she's in a hurry, Arndak thought. He could think of only one reason for that. He looked at the other ships in his fleet. They were all smaller and slower than Spraydancer, his ship.

     Reluctantly, he called an order to his mate.

     "Ease the sail a little. Let the others catch up." He felt Spraydancer's speed lessen and grimaced. With an unknown ship chasing them, he hated to reduce speed. But he wouldn't abandon the other ships of his fleet. He took a battered brass horn from a rack beside the steering oar, raised it to his lips and blew three loud blasts on it—the signal for the other ships to close up.