Tara's eyes snapped open.
Faint light was filtering into their cabin through the porthole, but that wasn't what had wakened her. The room was tossing and rocking crazily. The usual moan of waves and wind had risen to a dull roar; her body stiffened, and her eyes widened. "Shit," she whispered. The world suddenly lurched! Only the warrior's honed reflexes saved her and Epona from being thrown violently out of their bunk. Tara managed to catch at the bedframe at the last moment. "Shit!" she said again.
The little slave was clutching at her; the dim light revealed eyes wide with panic and confusion. "Wh-what's happening?" Epona gasped out.
"Storm," Tara said curtly. She quickly disengaged herself from her lover's lean body and began to pull on her clothes, her legs braced against the violent movements of the floor. The room bucked suddenly, and she was thrown against the wall – her head cracked against it. "Ow! Damn it."
"Are you okay?" The warrior looked up to see the slave clinging to the bedframe. Epona's fear was obvious, but she was still looking at Tara in concern. Tara grunted and jerked her head in a nod. "What do we do?" the small girl pleaded.
Tara scowled at her. "We don't do anything," she growled. "You stay here, understand? Hold on to something so you don't get hurt. You're no sailor – you'd just be in the way." Epona nodded fearfully, her little knuckles white against the wood she was clinging to. The warrior scooped up the girl's clothes from the floor and tossed them onto the bunk beside her. "Get dressed," she said shortly. "If the ship starts breaking up or something, I'll come get you. Otherwise, you stay put where it's safe. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am." Epona was visibly shaking. She fumbled at her tunic and pulled it over her head. Mens' voices raised up, barely audible over the shriek of the storm – All hands on deck! All hands on deck! Tara cursed softly. She slipped forward and gave Epona's arm a reassuring squeeze. Then, without another word, she ducked out of the snug cabin.
The rain struck her like a wall. Within seconds, Tara was soaked through. It was hard to see; she tossed a drenched fringe of hair back from her eyes and peered out. The sky was mostly black, with only a few small patches of lighter gray peeking through. The roiling ocean was as dark as pitch, but she could see the angry, glistening waves that were tossing The Nereid about like a hapless twig. She could hear the ominous creaking of wood, and the yells of the sailors. Tara looked around quickly, caught sight of a group trying desperately to lower a sail, and leaned into the wind as she charged over to help them.
It was chaos. The wind was screaming all around them. Rain sluiced down in sheets, until it was hard to tell where the sea ended and the sky began. Tara caught hold of the rope the sailors were fruitlessly tugging at and hauled on it with all the strength she could muster. The spar turned, and some of the strain on the sail lessened. Tara saw another group of sailors hurriedly untie knots; the sail dropped. Exhausted cheers broke from the throats of the men.
Three of the four sails had already been taken down. The fourth was still billowing, driving the ship blindly through the angry seas. Tara scrambled over the wildly-bucking deck toward it. The wind shrieked suddenly louder, and the deck heaved! Tara just barely managed to grab hold of something. She heard screams, and knew with a chilling finality that someone had gone overboard. A wave crashed over the side of the ship – for a moment, Tara was up to her knees in rushing seawater. She nearly fell. With dogged determination, she hauled herself up and struggled toward the creaking sail.
The ship lurched, and suddenly she found herself scrambling up a steep incline. Tara lunged and caught at the ship's railing; a man tumbled past her, screaming. She tried to catch at him, but he was too far away – he vanished into the darkness below. Water yawned like a valley beneath the ship. Darting a glance upward, Tara saw the crest of the wave looming overhead. The ship pitched over it, and she was suddenly sliding forward! The warrior cursed, scrabbling, and managed to find a handhold. Cold seawater crashed over her again, filling her mouth. She coughed and sputtered as she continued her struggle toward the last sail.
Another shrieking blast of wind. There was an ominous creaking, and shouts of alarm – then there was a splintering, rending sound. Tara looked up in horror to see the mighty mast splitting. With a heavy crash, it fell on the ship's cabins! As if on cue, lightning split the sky, and thunder shook the very ocean beneath.
"Epona!" Tara's cry of alarm was swallowed up by the howling storm. "Epona!" Another huge wave crashed over The Nereid's deck. There were more screams as the flailing form of a sailor was washed overboard. Tara barely saw it – she was busy clawing her way toward the splintered boards that had once been a neat row of sailors' quarters. "Epona!" she shouted again, hoping desperately that her voice carried over the shrieking gale. "Where are you?"
Lightning flashed again, outlining everything in pitch black and electric white. Tara saw a small figure struggling out from between two jagged pieces of wood. Her heart leaped, and she shouted her slave's name.
It was Epona. The slave was clinging in terror to part of the fallen mast, having managed to extricate herself from the destroyed cabin. "Stay there!" Tara yelled, clutching at an anchor to keep from tumbling across the deck. "I'll come get you. Don't move!" She saw the slave's frightened eyes goggling at her, and then the black head bobbed up and down in understanding. "Just hang on," the warrior shouted. She timed her movements carefully with the rocking deck, and then scrambled from the anchor to the nearest standing mast.
The Nereid suddenly slid sideways! Tara squawked and held on to the mast. She just had time to see the wall of water to her left before it crashed over the deck. It buried her to the waist, nearly tearing loose her death grip on the wood that anchored her.
Epona wasn't so lucky. With a shock of sick horror, Tara watched as the wave ripped the little slave from her haven! The small body tumbled like a rag doll across the deck, toward the yawning abyss of the sea. Tara forgot her own danger, forgot everything but Epona. She released the mast and launched herself through the air like a cat. Her yell became a grunt as another huge wave loomed ahead. The water slammed into her! The shock of the cold and the impact nearly froze her, but then she felt a slight form squirm against her, and Tara caught hold of it.
The slave wrapped herself around her owner's body, coughing and choking, and clung to her like a skinny little octopus. Tara saw the ship's railing rushing at them. Oh, shit, this is going to hurt… She grimaced as she tried to twist the two of them around so that her body was between Epona and the oncoming wood.
They hit a split second later. Tara saw stars as her skull bounced off part of the railing. By sheer instinct, she wrapped her right arm around the stout spindles, still clutching Epona's body against her own. Water rushed around them. It filled her mouth and nose and roared in her ears. She clung stubbornly to her anchor point and to her slave. It seemed like a long time before their heads broke the surface.
Gasping, Tara tried to get her bearings. Her back ached and smarted from being pounded against the railing, and her head was spinning from the blow it had taken. The ship was still rearing and plunging as the angry waves tossed it. She could hear Epona's choked sobs – she suspected the girl was injured, but there was no time to worry about that. She had to get them both to a less vulnerable position. The ship's railing was far too flimsy; it could splinter at any moment. She forced her protesting muscles to propel them across the deck to the mast where she'd taken refuge before. They made it; she wrapped both arms around its solid bulk, trusting that Epona would continue to hold on. The girl did.
Another colossal wave swamped them! This one only came up to Tara's knees, so she didn't have too much trouble hanging on. There were shouts and cries of terror; she looked up to see a group of five men being dragged to the railing by the relentless water. Three of them caught hold of the railing – two were lost.
Epona, her body warm and wet against Tara's chilled skin, pulled herself up to her owner's ear. "Help them," the girl begged. Her pale little face was twisted in pain, but her eyes still begged. "Please."
Tara judged the distance between them and the terrified sailors. Then she gave the little slave a stern glare. "Hold on to this mast," she yelled over the roaring wind. "You hold on, you understand?" Epona nodded and wrapped herself around the solid wood. The warrior waited a moment; then she shoved off from her haven and lunged back across the pitching deck of the ship.
She reached the sailors all right, and clung with them to the railing as two waves crashed over them. Then she grabbed the arm of the nearest one with an iron grip. "Let go!" she shouted. He stared at her, his eyes wide and glazed with fear. Tara cursed mentally. There was no time. With a burst of strength, she jerked his grip loose from the wood, and dragged him bodily to the mast next to Epona's. He fought her a bit, but they made it. "Hang on here," Tara yelled. He clutched it instinctively, and the warrior stumbled back to where the remaining two men huddled.
The second man, a veteran with a weatherbeaten face, was easier to rescue. He released his grip on the railing on cue, and scrambled with her to relative safety. His leg was injured – Tara had to pull him the last couple of yards to the mast with his fellow.
The wind howled, nearly lifting Tara overboard as she staggered toward the one remaining sailor. She slipped and fell sprawling. A huge wave threatened, and she scrambled on her knees and elbows, barely managing to close her hand on a rail spindle before water crashed over her. She could feel her cold-numbed fingers slipping, but she gritted her teeth and hung on stubbornly.
When she reached the third victim, Tara almost paused. The frightened face that peered up at her was smooth-cheeked and round-eyed, a mere boy's – she doubted he was much more than sixteen years old. Probably his first voyage. Tara caught him around the chest from behind and began to drag him across the wildly-lurching deck. Welcome to the sailing game, kid, she thought wryly.
Another wave! Tara fairly tossed him at the mast. As his arms wrapped around it, she made a lunge for it herself. Water crashed over her legs, and she fell hard. A pained grunt passed her lips. The suction of the water began to drag her backward. She struggled against it, but even her strength was no match for that of an angry sea – the slimy planks scraped against her body as she was pulled toward the hungry ocean depths.
"Grab hold!" The grizzled old sailor's face swam into view, and she saw a hand extended. With a last burst of strength, she lunged and caught it.
The man's arm held firm. Gasping for breath, Tara hauled herself to the mast. Her eyes met his, and she looked at him for a moment in sheepish chagrin. "Thanks," she muttered. The man nodded with a slight grin.
Through the sheeting rain, Tara could make out Epona's small form clinging where she had left her. She jerked her head at the three rescued sailors. Then, without another word, she released the mast and staggered toward the young slave. There was a sickening moment when the ship pitched sideways, and Tara nearly lost her footing again, but she managed to scramble to safety. A moment later, Epona's shivering body was nestled securely in her arms once more. Tara clutched at her in relief.
The little slave cuddled into Tara's breast. "I'm scared," she said, her small voice barely audible over the continued shrieking of the storm.
"I know." The warrior held on to the mast firmly. She could see groups of sailors struggling to toss anchors overboard to slow and steady the ship. They seemed to be having some success. As she watched, another massive anchor plunged over the side of The Nereid; she felt the ship jerk, and its wild progress through the waves slowed. Tara lowered her face until her lips brushed against the delicate shell of Epona's ear. "It'll be okay," she said comfortingly. "We just have to ride out the storm. Then we'll find a sheltered bay or something to anchor in so we can patch up the ship."
"What about those other men?" Epona pleaded. "The ones who fell off…"
"They're gone, little mouse," Tara said quietly. "I can't save them. No one could." The small girl crumpled into the warrior's body. Tara could feel her shaking with sobs. She held her, full of silent gratitude that she'd been in time to save her. She could still see the helpless little form tumbling toward the gaping maw of the ocean. A sharp pang shot through Tara's heart. Her eyes closed. What would I have done if she'd gone over? And she knew suddenly that she, Tara, would have leaped into the sea after her without hesitation.
I don't want to live without her.
The thought was calm, a simple and clear statement of fact. Tara's grip on the slim girl tightened as she considered it. Gods. Gods, what…how…? She sucked in a breath as the pieces suddenly fell into place. I…care about her. I must… Her dark eyes closed again. The kid was right. I must love her.
Tara had always prided herself in her courage and strength, and in the fact that she needed no one. She huddled there, one arm wrapped tightly around the mast, the other around Epona, and realized that this was no longer true. She felt sick. I love her, she thought numbly. That's why I cut my way through that battle to save her life. That's why I didn't leave her when the Amazons took her. That's why I can't seem to stop thinking about her, and why everything I feel about her is so intense… She drew another deep breath, her body shaking. What am I going to do?
The ship bucked like a crazed stallion, and Tara's grip on Epona tightened. Fuck…this is no time to go to pieces, Tara. Right now, you've got some surviving to do. The slave uttered a little squall of pain as her owner clutched her. The warrior's eyes widened as she remembered. "You're hurt." She peered down at the smaller girl anxiously, her own turmoil forgotten. "What is it, beag luch? Are you all right?"
"No." Epona's jaw was clenched, and she was shuddering in her efforts to hold back her sobs. "My arm," she said. "I think I broke it again."
Tara looked, and winced. Epona's short sleeve was plastered to her skin, accentuating what was now a hideous swelling of her forearm. It was bent at an awkward angle. Out of the corner of her eye, the warrior saw Epona's gaze dropping to look; she quickly clasped the curly head into her own chest to keep the girl from seeing the ugly injury. "Don't look," she said sternly. "I think you're right. It's broken." She felt Epona flinch and nod. A moment's hesitation – a moment only – and Tara steeled herself for the task at hand. "I can't take care of it right now," she said. "The storm's too strong. But I'll keep you safe until I can, okay? Just try to relax."
"It hurts," the little slave whimpered.
"I know, squirt." Tara could feel the girl shivering violently. This is bad. The kid could go into shock. I've got to keep her warm. She wrapped her own body around Epona's slender form as much as she could. "Try to think about something else," she said. "Tell me a story."
And so they hunched there together in the wind and the driving rain, and Epona told her stories. Some of them were disjointed, and none were original, but they served their purpose. Epona calmed as she spoke. Her shivering didn't stop, but it did abate a little. Tara held her in silence and prayed for the storm to end.
