Savage Messiah

CHAPTER XXX

Someone slapped her across the face. pulling away, she frowned and tried to go back to sleep. Then she was slapped again, and someone began shouting at her. She should never be awakened this way, she thought. Didn't they know she was a princess? And why was she so cold and wet?

Then the insistent voice came again: "Shailiha! Wake up! We're in trouble!"

Then came another stinging slap across the face. The princess of Eutracia finally opened her eyes-and realized that she was still tied to the gunwale, slumped in her bonds. She raised her head and looked up blearily, trying to remember.

It was night and a sea storm was raging. The Reprise seemed helpless and crippled as the wind tore at her. Parts of her foremast and its rigging had come down, and now it rolled back and forth across the pitching deck. The rain came in unrelenting sheets, and the ship bucked wildly upon the waves. Crewmen and warriors, their shouting drowned out by the howling wind, worked frantically to regain control of the vessel.

Her vision clearing, Shailiha recognized Tyranny standing before her. The privateer was soaked to the skin. There was a look of desperation on her face that the princess had never seen before. Removing her dagger from its sheath, Tyranny quickly cut Shailiha's bonds.

As she struggled to stand on her own, the princess found the lingering effects of passing through the portal and the bucking of the ship nearly debilitating. Helping Shailiha to find her sea legs, Tyranny held her shoulders. Shailiha placed her mouth next to Tyranny's ear.

"What happened?" she shouted against the howling wind.

"We're taking on water!" Tyranny shouted back. "And this storm isn't helping! The stress of going through Faegan's portal must have weakened the hull! We have a great deal to do if we are going to survive this!"

Shailiha looked over at the scorched foremast to which K'jarr and Scars had been tied. What was left of it rose awkwardly toward the sky, like a tree that had been hit by lightning.

"K'jarr and Scars!" she shouted. "Are they…?"

"They're alive!" Tyranny shouted back. "But when the mast was hit, it gave them a rude awakening!"

Tyranny pointed down the length of the deck. Knotted lifelines had been tied between each of the masts to help the crew walk along the decks without being thrown overboard in the storm.

"Follow me!" she shouted. "Whatever you do, don't let go of the ropes! If you go overboard now we will never find you!"

Shailiha followed Tyranny as best she could. The decks were slippery with rain and they pitched constantly, making her fall down more than once. They reached, then passed the first mast, and she followed the captain on, hand over hand along the knotted rope.

Finally Tyranny reached a deck hatch. It was open and several canvas tubes snaked up out of it. Their ends lay unseen over the starboard gunwales. Letting go of the rope, Tyranny went down the stairway first. Shailiha followed.

As the stricken war frigate bucked and pitched, it was all the princess could do to keep herself from being repeatedly thrown against the walls of the stairway. It was drier here, but not by much. The strange canvas tubes stretched down the staircase. Tyranny grabbed a swinging lantern from its hook on the wall and held it before them.

Two more decks down, Shailiha could hear shouting and the sounds of men at work. As she descended into the chamber behind Tyranny, they stopped midway down the staircase. The privateer held the lantern high. Shailiha could see immediately that they were in for the fight of their lives.

The room was large and had been cleared of its cargo. Seamen and Minions were working frantically to stem the seawater that rushed in through the rent in the Reprise's hull every time she tipped to starboard. At least one of the hull planks was gone, perhaps more.

About a dozen warriors and crewmen stood shoulder to shoulder in waist-deep seawater as they struggled to repair the damage. Watching some of the warriors work mechanical pumps, Shailiha suddenly realized what the canvas snakes were for.

Frantically they pushed up and down on the pumps' wooden handles, sending bursts of seawater shooting up and through the canvas tubes that made their way to the decks above. The warriors were barely holding their own. Each time they seemed to gain a little against the rising water, the ship would roll to starboard again and more would come rushing through the jagged tear in her side.

The Reprise pitched high in the bow and Shailiha almost fell from the stairway. Tyranny grabbed the collar of her jerkin and pulled her back.

While the warriors pumped the seawater out, Tyranny's crewmen tried to repair the hull. A massive corkscrewlike device rested upon the shoulders of several of the men. At each end of the giant screw sat a very large, flat iron panel. One of these was placed against a sturdy, upright timber in the center of the room. The other was pointed toward the rent in the hull.

Shailiha watched as several crewmen placed thick wooden handles into holes in the sides of the giant hardwood screw. As a group they began turning them. The flat iron panel at the end of the screw slowly made its way toward the broken hull.

Some crew held high fresh boards cut to cover the hole in the hull. As the screw turned, it would force the iron panel against the boards and hold them in place. Other crewmen stood by with trowels full of pitch and tar, ready to seal off the joints between the boards. As the warriors manned the pumps and the crewmen turned the screw, Shailiha held her breath.

Just as the screw began to seat itself against the freshly cut planks, the Reprise rolled to starboard again. Another rush of water flooded in, knocking the men over and causing them to drop the screw and the boards.

As the men tried to stand, it was plain to see that the ice-cold water was even higher now, and that the situation was quickly becoming hopeless. Soon other sections of this deck would be engulfed, and the Reprise would almost certainly go down. Shailiha looked over at Tyranny. The privateer's expression was hard.

"Scars!" Tyranny cried out.

At the sound of her voice the gigantic first mate looked up and saw the two women standing halfway down the stairway. It took several precious moments, but he finally managed to wade over to them.

"We aren't going to make it, are we?" Tyranny shouted, raising her lantern a bit.

Without answering, Scars turned back to look at the rent in the hull. They heard a harsh, tearing sound, as yet another plank flanking the damage came loose and flew into the room. More seawater flooded in behind it. It was now nearly as high as the crewmen's chests.

Scars turned back to his captain. "Our problem isn't so much the damage as it is the storm!" he shouted back at her. "If the ship wasn't rocking back and forth so badly, we might be able to repair her! But the situation only grows worse. If we do not succeed very soon, she will surely go down!"

For several moments Tyranny did not speak. Then she seemed to make up her mind. "I am going topside!" she shouted. "I will unfurl the sails! Then I'll do what I can to heel her over! When you feel her come hard to port and the damage to the hull rises clear of the waves, you must hurry! I don't know how long I'll be able to hold her over in these winds!"

Scars looked horrified.

"Captain, you can't do this!" he shouted back. "In a storm like this you must leave the sails furled and allow her to nose into the wind! It's the only way she'll survive the stresses! You know that! Raising the sails now could rip every remaining mast from the ship and tear the hull in half!"

By now every man and warrior in the chamber had stopped what he was doing and strained to hear the argument above the raging storm. Looking down into the rapidly flooding chamber, Tyranny scanned the workers, taking a moment to stare into the eyes of every man there. Handing the lantern to Shailiha, she placed her fists akimbo.

"This is not up for debate!" she shouted at them. "True, what I propose may not work! But if we don't try, what do you think will happen, eh? At best you have one more chance to succeed! And if you don't, we're all food for the fishes anyway!" Then her expression softened a bit, and she looked down at Scars.

"Don't fail me," she said. She turned and pushed Shailiha back up the stairway.

When they reached topside, the storm was raging worse than ever. Glancing around, Tyranny spotted one of her officers and headed for him. Snatching the lantern from Shailiha, Tyranny shoved it into the man's hands, then put her mouth to his ear.

"I want every sail unfurled-now!" she shouted. "Be quick about it! This is a matter of life or death!" His mouth hanging open, the officer looked at her as though she had just gone mad.

Tyranny reached down to her thigh, drew her dagger, and placed its blade at the man's throat.

"Now!" she barked. "Or I'll throw you overboard myself!"

With a quick nod, the officer went to give the orders.

"You're with me!" Tyranny shouted to Shailiha. Together they made their way astern, toward the ship's wheel, which was still tightly bound with rope.

"Stand clear!" Tyranny shouted. Shailiha did as she was told.

Tyranny raised her face to the storm and watched with hope as the sails came down. The wind tore at them relentlessly, threatening to rip both them and the masts they were attached to away from the Reprise and out into the darkness of the sea. Then the sails filled and the frigate lurched forward, bounding uncontrollably through the waves. Taking a deep breath, Tyranny knew it was time. Removing her sword from its scabbard, she held it high and then brought it down with all her strength against the rope binding the ship's wheel.

Finally free, the wheel spun madly, its spokes a blur as the ship's rudder struggled to find its equilibrium in the raging currents. As the wheel settled down, Tyranny motioned for Shailiha to come and join her. They each took hold of it. Tyranny looked up at the straining sails and back at Shailiha.

"Now!" the privateer shouted. "And with everything you have!" Straining against the wheel, the two women began to turn it with all their might.

With an agonizing groan, the Reprise did her best to heel over toward the port side. As she started to come about, Tyranny and Shailiha turned the wheel over even harder, and the great ship screamed as though she were about to come apart.

Knowing there was nothing else she could do, Shailiha closed her eyes. She thought of Tristan and Morganna. Then the great ship lurched, and another of the masts came tumbling down.