into the sea. Also, he had absolutely no idea where they were: on Tillek’s coast or the bleak western end of High Reaches, or if they’d been blown further down the coast of Fort.
He gave them both another day and, when that dawn rose frostily clear and even klah gave him no warmth, he roused her to give him what instructions she could from the bunk.
“If I leave the hatch open, can you see enough to tell me if I’m doing anything wrong?” he pleaded with her when she seemed unable to grasp his concern. They had little food left, almost no charcoal, and without that small heat to warm the cabin they would surely freeze in the night.
“They’ll come. Search,” she murmured.
“They won’t see us. We’ve got to stand out to sea where the sail will be visible.”
“You’re able for that, Rob,” she said with the hint of a smile.
“You can do more than you think you can.”
“Then so can you,” he said bluntly, fear driving him.
She shook her head sadly and closed her eyes again.
He watched her, thinking how valiantly she had fought the storm. But now the storm was over and she looked to him, her spouse, to keep his promise to care for her. Only he hadn’t thought he’d be put to such a test quite this soon.
“All right, if that’s the way it’s to be, I’ll just have to do.”
With fear making his feet heavier, he thudded up on deck. The surrounding cliffs had an ominous look about them. What had been a refuge now seemed a prison.
“We’ll just have to get out into the open sea,” he told himself. “I can do that much.” He licked his finger and held it up, but felt only the faintest touch of a breeze. Fortunately it was blowing down from the cliffs and out to sea. They had been mightily lucky to throw down the anchor when they did, for the ship would have been mashed against the cliff had it sailed much further.
He couldn’t make up his mind whether to hoist the sail first, or the anchor. At last he decided that if the sail was up, the ship might move towards the open sea once the anchor let it.
He managed both, but was panting by the time he reached the cockpit and took the tiller bar in his hands.
“I’ve hoisted the sail, Kasia, and the anchor, though I could blow and get more use of the sail.”
She murmured something that sounded encouraging and, sure enough, the little ship slowly eased forward and passed the sheltering arm of the cove. The sea was almost too calm when he saw its vast expanse. Once the ship was clear of the shelter, though, the breeze picked up and the sail filled.
“Right or left, Kasia? I’ve no idea where we are.”
“Starboard … right, Rob. Go right.” He had to ask her three times to repeat her instructions more loudly so that he could hear her weakened voice clearly.
“I’m shrieking nowwwww,” she protested, and her face came into his range of vision as she lifted herself off the bunk.
That was better, he thought, than lying there like a cut of wool.
“Right,” he roared back at her. “I’m going right. Starboard.” And almost immediately he had to correct the ship as he saw the jagged reef he had been about to sail into. Panic gripped him, and he struggled to keep his bowels from loosening.
“Stupid dimwit,” he admonished himself. “Watch where you’re going.”
When he judged they were well enough past the rocks, he changed his seat and threw the tiller over to port – he remembered that much of Captain Gostol’s afternoon lesson. And then he grabbed for the sheet to keep the wind in the sail.
The speed of the sloop picked up, and he rather enjoyed the pull of sheet and tiller in his hand. At least he was doing something.
It was midday, to judge by the sun’s position, and the high cliffs along which the ship sailed were totally unfamiliar to him.
“We’ve got nothing but cliffs, Kasia. Where could we be?” He saw her raise herself up and shake her head. “Keep on.”