“Ah, but they are swift.”
Hewitt came breathlessly to the bow. “Princess, Sieur Roel, My Lord Captain sends me to fetch you.” Shortly, both Celeste and Roel reached the captain’s cabin. Chevell stood at the map table with a chart spread before him. He looked up. “Ah, Princess, Chevalier, good, you are here.” As Roel looked down at the map, Celeste said, “Yes, Captain?”
“My lady, the Iles de Chanson lie dead ahead,” said Chevell. “I will need you standing by the helm.” Celeste grinned and said, “Aye, aye, My Lord Captain.”
“These islands,” said Roel, “what are they like?”
“Ah, formidable: tall, rocky crags, little vegetation, no potable water, but for rain collecting in hollows. Not a place for man or beast.”
“But fit for Sirenes,” said Celeste.
“Oui, though only sometimes are they there.”
“Then let us hope this is not one of the times,” said Roel.
“Indeed,” said Chevell. “Yet if any are nigh this day, I deem the oncoming storm will drive them into the depths.”
“Is that likely to happen?” asked Celeste.
Chevell shrugged, and then tapped the chart. “I would show you our intended route.”
Celeste glanced at Roel and then looked at the map.
“These are the islands: a long chain stretching some hundred sea leagues or so.”
“Hmm. .,” muttered Roel, “there must be a thousand here.”
“More like twenty-three hundred,” said Chevell. “A veritable warren with rocks to hole a hull and tricky winds channeled by the crags. Yet the Sirenes are the greatest danger.”
“Are they that deadly?” asked Celeste.
“Perhaps not, though the tales say they lure men to a watery grave.”
“I thought your onetime mentor said none of his crew leapt overboard.”
“Aye, he did. Yet the king’s ship foundered, and those men probably drowned. . or died of exposure.”
“I see.”
Chevell pointed at the depicted islands. “Here the archipelago is narrowest; see how it necks down? It is the quickest way through, and a fairly straight run at that, though there is a larboard turn needed”-he jabbed a finger to the vellum-“right here, a total of three points to port.”
Celeste nodded but said, “Oui. I see. But only if the wind is favorable-astern or abeam-yet if head-on. .?”
“Then we’ll come through here,” said Chevell, “and the turn will be a single point larboard.” He traced the alternate route. “But at the moment, the wind is off our larboard stern, and not likely to shift greatly through the narrow part of the chain.”
“Captain, did you not say the winds therein are tricky? Are they not likely to shift?”
“Oui. But we will run mainly on the topsails, for they are up where the air is less affected by the isles themselves.”
“Ah. I see.”
“And though I don’t think we’ll need you at the helm, Princess, before we enter the chain, we’ll set all the sails for you to get us through in the event we do get entranced. With the sails fixed-no men to hale them about and take advantage of the shifts in the air-it won’t be the swiftest run, but it will get us through.” Celeste nodded and said, “Captain, what if the wind comes about such that it’s head-on out of the turn?”
“Then you’ll need sail this way,” said Chevell, tracing a third route. “Three points to starboard, and then bring her back on course right here. But heed: you’ll need to make that decision before reaching the larboard turn; else we’ll founder on these shoals.”
“I see. The blue lines indicate shoals?”
“Oui.”
“Oh, my, but there are so many through this. . what did you call it? An archipelago?”
“Oui.”
“Captain,” said Roel, “who made this map?”
“Women sailors in small crafts, Roel.”
“Ah.”
Celeste frowned. “Then why not carry some females aboard every ship, Captain?”
“Ha!” barked Chevell. “My lady, having one woman aboard is somewhat of a strain on a crew. Can you imagine what having an entire bevy would do?”
“Pssh,” said Celeste, but made no further comment.
There came a tap on the door, and Hewitt entered bearing a tray with three mugs of tea. “Beggin’ your pardon, Captain, but Cookie said you would be needin’
this.”
“Ah, my thanks, Hewitt. Thank Master Chanler for me.”
“I will, Sieur.” Hewitt scurried away.
As she took up her tea, Celeste said, “Well, then, Captain, tell me the landmarks so that I’ll know when to execute the turn, as well as those if the wind is unfavorable.”
“Well, my lady, you’ll need to be counting islands, first this one and then. .”
In midafternoon, the wind running before the storm shifted to the larboard beam, the crew shifting the sails in response.
“Will we have to tack?” asked Celeste.
“Mayhap, m’lady,” said Lieutenant Armond. “Though
’tis now on our beam, should it come ’round a bit more, aye, tacking we’ll need do, and we’ll approach the cluster by another route.”
“So the captain said,” replied Celeste.
The wind strengthened, the gusts now bearing spatters of rain forerunning the oncoming tempest. Hewitt came darting, bearing an armload of slickers. He peeled off the top one and, glancing at Chevell, he gave it over to Celeste. “My lady.”
“Merci, Hewitt.”
Then the cabin boy doled out the other slickers, Captain Chevell first, Lieutenant Armond second, Roel next, followed by Lieutenant Florien, then Bosun Destin, Helmsman Gervaise, and finally himself. The captain smiled at Hewitt’s rankings, but said nought.
“My Lord Captain,” said Armond, glancing at Celeste, “given the storm, the darkness, and the isles, is it wise to hazard the crossing during a blow?” Chevell barked a laugh. “Wise? Is it wise? Mayhap not, yet it is the only chance we have of catching the raider ere he makes port. And as to the darkness, we should reach the far side of the archipelago just as full night falls.”
Reluctantly, Armond nodded, and they all stood on the fantail and spoke not a word of the risk before them.
On drove the Sea Eagle, the day dim under the stygian overcast, and off to the larboard gray rain and whitecaps came sweeping o’er the deeps. And finally, dead ahead and dimly seen, a great scatter of tall, stony crags, stretching from horizon to horizon, rode up o’er the rim of the world.
“There they be,” gritted Lieutenant Florien.
“They look dreadful,” said Celeste.
“My lady,” said Gervaise, “if need be ye at the helm, steer a clear channel ’tween each and we’ll all be safe.
The Eagle’ll take care o’ the rest.” Now the full fury of the storm struck: icy rain came driving on a wailing wind, and lightning flared among the stone pinnacles, thunder following.
“Destin, the wind be off the larboard beam. Maintain the topsails full. Reef down half and goosewing all others on main, fore, and mizzen. Strike the stays and jibs.
And set the sails for aft-to-larboard winds.”
“But my lord,” said Florien, “that means we’ll be in the isles longer, and if the Sirenes are therein-”
“I know, Lieutenant, yet I’ll not run in full in a storm in dismal light among islands of stone.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Now the bosun piped the orders, and as sails were struck and reefed and winged, and the yardarms were haled about, Gervaise said, “My lady, should ye have to take the helm, remember, keep the wind anywhere in the quarter from stern to larboard beam. Anythin’ else and the sails’ll either be luffin’, or the wind’ll be blowin’
us hind’ards.”
“I remember, Gervaise,” said Celeste.
Roel reached out and took her hand, her fingers icy.
He squeezed her grip, and she smiled at him with a bravery she did not feel.
And in shrieking wind and driving rain, the Sea Eagle clove through heaving seas and toward the massive blocks of stone, the great crags a blur in the storm, lightning stroking down among them, thunder riving the air.