The heavy rolling motion of the ship made it hard to retain our feet as I helped Janis Jord out onto the deck, Sharon at her side doing what she could for the still stunned Princess of Dularn. The gusting wind whistling ominously through the rigging in the darkness. The salty cold spray drenching us to the skin as it flew up over the leaping bow in the darkness. The women now gathered on deck beginning to show their terror as the word passed among them of what had happened. The thought of being aboard a ship under such conditions being enough to terrify anyone! The crew having made off in a small boat kept beneath the stern castle and mounted over the rudder. We had another, somewhat larger, that was mounted upside down on deck between the masts, which would have carried perhaps a dozen men at the most. Sharon and I had slept through everything that had happened just below us. The noise of the ship working in the heavy sea and our own state of exhaustion, both nervous and physical, having been enough to keep us asleep despite the noises that they had made escaping. I wondered if they would reach the shore or drown!
I knew I would have to take command of the Ronda despite my lack of knowledge, Janis being too badly hurt to be of much use yet. Or face the horrors soon to come as terror ran rampant aboard the ill-fated vessel! I shuddered at the thought of what it would be like, a ship filled with terrified women. Janis muttering something about a "cape" that meant little to me at the time. Sharon helping the Princess below to do what she could for her while I remained up on deck. The eyes of the woman at the wheel shining in the light from the binnacle as she silently watching the goings on. The cracking of the striped sails barely visible overhead telling of the strain they were taking, the ship lying nearly as close to the wind as it could. A sudden flash in the overcast sky ahead telling of the storm soon to be upon us. The sound of the thunder hidden in the crash of the waves against the shuddering hull as the Ronda pounded through the growing sea.
Then just as I thought that there was no way that things could get any worse, a woman came running up to me, stumbling on the wet rolling deck. Crying out, "The Water Barrels Have Been Drained!" The young half clad blonde's eyes wide with the first signs of terror, the departing crew apparently having made sure that we wouldn't travel far before having to put in for fresh water. Her words spreading fear and terror among those within earshot of her. The women on deck gathering in terrified clumps, muttering among themselves, panic now taking its toll! I thought I could faintly hear the ominous crash of breakers ahead and to the right! Janis' muttered warning coming back to haunt me at the sound. The term "lee shore" going through my mind! We needed to turn through the wind and go about on the other tack, and damm soon! The only trouble was: I didn't know how to do it!
"Steer as close into the wind as you can!" I ordered the woman at the wheel. Knowing from what Janis had told me earlier that tacking a ship like the lateen rigged Ronda was a task that required an experienced crew, especially in weather like this! The woman nodded and turned the wheel a bit. The warning flapping of the sails telling that little was to be gained that way as she regarded me. Keeping her thoughts to herself. Waiting for further orders. Obviously considering it "my problem" too!
I knew that the problem was that in order to tack the Ronda, it would be necessary to first take in sail, then swing the ship over on the other tack. Letting the sails back out again after the yards had been swung across. The design of the short stubby masts and their rigging being such that the sails would not clear unless this was done. Our only other choice was to turn and attempt to sail back downwind; but due the design of the Ronda's lateen rigging, I suspected that this would most likely result in disaster in such a "wind". Unlike other sail designs, the lateen rig cannot be easily adjusted as such for wind conditions, but is usually replaced with different suits of sails as needed, although the positioning of the sails in respect to the wind can of course be adjusted to "take" more or less of the wind like any sailing vessel. In any case I knew the Ronda was already carrying far more sail than was proper for her under the conditions!
Looming ahead out of the darkness it seemed to me as if I could see the gleam of breakers as they smashed against the jagged rocks of the shoreline. This part of Trelandar being mostly jagged and rocky with few areas where one could seek shelter, the woman at the wheel told me. Having been a fisherman's wife before being taken and then judicially enslaved as payment for a debt he had been unable to pay. Her name was Shirl, she told me.
"I'm making you second in command!" I cried over the whistle of the wind and the crash of the waves against the hull, hoping that Shirl was as competent as she appeared. The woman being a big brunette who looked competent and capable. The muscles beneath her now spray-soaked shift telling of a life of hard labor. "I'm open to suggestions!" I added, grabbing at the woman as a wave suddenly flew over the bow and drenched us both!
"We have to tack away from this shore!" Shirl cried in reply, the problem being of course how to do it! Both of us knowing that tacking such a vessel as the Ronda would be no easy task in such weather. The Ronda now working heavily in the rising sea, there being no doubt that we were in for a storm that under the conditions we would never survive! We would be smashed and drowned against the rocky cliffs now faintly visible ahead and to the right. The breakers smashing into foam at their jagged feet. Their crash like distant thunder over the whistle of the wind in the rigging and the flapping of the sails. The lightning flashing again to remind us of what was coming! Things did not look good just then. I was getting very "tired" of being in danger!
"If we can't sail this damm thing!" I snapped to Shirl, "We'll row it!" Thinking of the oar ports I had seen along its sides. Shirl regarding me as if I had taken leave of my senses, but wisely keeping her opinions to herself, perhaps feeling that any woman who could take on a dozen men and defeat them all was not someone who you wanted to get in an argument with just then!
Not that I had any delusions about being able to row the Ronda out of danger; but if the sweeps could even slow down our drift towards the looming cliffs and jagged rocks that now threatened us, it might just buy enough time to get the sails somehow reset on the other tack before the storm hit us with its full force. Resetting the sails was going be an "experience"!
The sweeps were long heavy things, made to be used by men, not women, but their design was such, I noted with satisfaction, that the women would only have to deal with their work. The actual weight of the sweeps themselves being supported by the oarlock and balancing weights attached to the inner portion of the great levers. With the women gathered around, the spray drenching their half naked bodies, Shirl at my side, I explained swiftly to them what I wanted. Telling them in no uncertain terms the fate that awaited them all if we could not draw away from the towering cliffs now becoming visible in the flickering flashes of the lightning. The deep crash of the breakers now audible to all mingled with the rolling of the thunder from the storm ahead.
At her command the women slid out the dozen long heavy sweeps, five women to a sweep, Shirl barking out the commands like an oar master on a war galley as the terrified former slaves struggled with the great levers. Their bare feet slipping on the spray soaked deck as they tried to keep pace with her commands. The spray drenching us all as it leaped up over the bow, falling in drenching sheets over the deck. While the dull crash of the breakers ahead and to the right told of the fate that awaited us if we could not draw clear of the rocks that would destroy us!
Hoping that my selected dozen women and myself could get the sails down once the pressure of the wind was taken off them, I tried to steer the vessel into the wind as best I could. It being my intention to attempt to put the ship on the other tack before it was destroyed. The Ronda almost "dead in the water" despite the best efforts of the sixty women on the sweeps, the force of the wind and the waves against the ship being so strong!
It seemed to me almost as if the ship was fighting me the way that it refused to turn, the sails flapping terribly in the wind. The crash of the breakers in the background terrifying in their import. The lightning flashing overhead showing the fate that awaited us on the dark rocks now no more than a quarter mile away. A bright flash for an instant lighting everything as bright as day, seeming to freeze us all in place. The thunderous crash deafening as darkness once again covered the sight of what laid there in wait for us to starboard!
"Dammit! If I'm going to drown, at least let me die like a Warrioress, not a Rat!" I heard a loud voice say from behind me as I fought to turn the Ronda into the wind. A voice that I welcomed like a savior! Then Janis was there at my side, Sharon supporting her. The Princess of Dularn giving me a grim smile as she pushed me aside and took the wheel, the wind blowing her golden hair out like a flag as she stood there at the wheel now.
Letting the ship fall off for a moment to gather speed, Janis then brought the Ronda into the wind, the wet sails flapping horribly, threatening to rip apart at any moment. The Princess barking orders like a drill sergeant, driving us all, forcing us to do what must be done to save the ship and ourselves. A Viking Goddess there at the wheel, her leather trappings dripping with water, a long slim sword in its sheath strapped around her hips. Sharon at her side, ready to rely her orders if needed. We needed no whips to drive the terrified women at the sweeps to their best efforts, although the Ronda was slowly losing ground in the wind! Drifting into the threatening rocks now so close by!
The foresail was a great flapping wet mass that seemed to almost have a life of its own as we somehow managed to drag it down on to the deck, Shirl at my side, her powerful muscles welcome as we fought the wet leaping canvas. The heavy crash of the breakers in the background terrifying as we struggled with the long heavy yard, the wet sail like a living thing fighting our every attempt to reset it. Then we finally got it reset on the other side of the mast, our hands cut and bleeding as we drove ourselves. Pulling on the ropes, ignoring the agony that burned our soft water-soaked palms, our torn fingernails, knowing the fate that awaited us all! The lightning flashing and thundering in the sky adding to the horrors. A heavy downpour suddenly drenching us as we managed to reset the sail. The wet tarred ropes were burning agony in our now raw palms. We were rapidly learning what the life of a 26th Century sailor could be like!
The towering cliffs were only a hundred yards away, the white foam of the breakers looming up in the darkness. Blind terror now whimpering in my mind as I thought of what our fate would be if we failed to claw free of the doom that awaited us! The jagged rocks that would smash our frail vessel to splinters; the horrible smashing breakers that would snuff the life from our soft bodies. Leaving us all only broken carcasses to feed the fish and the monsters of the deep. The best efforts of the women at the sweeps were not enough, I saw, seeing the rocks and cliffs slowly coming closer with every wave that smashed up against the Ronda's bow!
Then showing seamanship that would have been the envy of the greatest sailing captains of all time, the Princess swung the Ronda about on the other tack. Screaming commands to the women on both masts as she did so, sailing the Ronda on just the foresail, leaving the mainsail miss-set, and using it only to help guide the vessel. Setting it so that it spilled much of the wind, the Princess having know that we did not have time to properly set both sails!
I sobbed with relief as the threatening cliffs slowly faded away into the darkness. The lightning thundering overhead, knowing how close we had come to doom! Sharon moving to my side, her arm going around my slim muscular waist. Know that her brave stepmother had done her best to save us them all. The Princess giving me a smile there in the darkness that told much, saying, "Well Done, Warrioress!" Giving me a swift salute that meant much as Sharon hugged me again, the rain pouring down upon us all.
(.txt)