Chapter Two : A Storm in the Night
"Calm?! I've been calmer when I'm running for my life!" The enormous crash of Little John hurtling into the side of the cabins with several crates of supplies echoed below decks. Above them the crew were shouting, screaming orders and slipped back and forth on the deck as they battled to keep the ship steady. Another loud thump was Much toppling from his hammock, and a loud piercing scrape of wood on wood as Robin thrust his bow into the doorway, wedging it in to keep his feet.
Allan groaned loudly, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the floor right at Djaq's feet who yelled in disgust and stepped over the pickpocket where he knelt. The ship gave another great lurch, sending everyone in the cabin staggering, and rolling to the port side.
"We're gonna die! I've survived a Crusade! I've survived the Sheriff! I've survived the desert and I'm gonna die on my way home!" Much's panicked yells shrieked through the room, still barely loud enough to be heard above the storm raging and the waves crashing.
"Much! Shut up!" Three distinct voices shouted in unison as the ship lurched up and down, riding the waves to the best of its craftsmanship. Losing his grip on the beam he clung to for balance, Will fell backwards, sliding down the deck and crashing into the corner, he ducked and covered his head just in time to avoid the barrel that came crashing toward him.
"No one's going to die! It's just a storm!" Robin shouted, slowly clawing his way between the rows of hammocks towards the stairs.
"Just a storm! Just a storm! It's a bloody typhoon!" Allan fumbled to regain some sort of balance, greener than even Little John had been the first day on the sea. Clutching at what he thought was a plank of wood, he started to drag himself up only for his crutch to scream and come tumbling down on top of him.
"That's my leg, you idiot!" Djaq shouted, as she and Allan both wrestled themselves back to a somewhat standing position. "The weapons! Watch your feet."
Right on cue, with the forceful strike of another wave, the fierce clanging of metal cartwheeled between Much and Robin, missing them by an inch and somersaulting right towards Will in the corner.
"Duck!"
No sooner had the axe-wielder staggered to his feet against the wall then he threw himself to the floor again, his own weapon lodging itself deep into the wood of the ship where his head had been,
"I'm not being funny but being beheaded by your own axe would have been ironic, wouldn't it?"
"Nothing about this is funny, Allan!" John screamed, seizing the moment of brief relief to charge headlong towards the stairs and gripping the doorway hard with his strong arms. With the free hand he held out his staff, reaching for the nearest person to grab on.
Robin did so, steeling himself against the next blow of the waves and dragging himself up and out towards the decks. Djaq was next, her slight frame hardly managing any sort of resistance against the buffeting of the weather and John flung his arm hard, swinging her forward and into Robin's hands. Then Much, and Allan followed, Will last, still considerably shaken from how close he had come from losing his head.
It was little better up on deck. Rain pelted them hard as hailstones, every inch of the vessel was drenched, one sail had come loose and another torn in the wind. Lightning lit the sky as brightly as day and with every rock of the boat, the sea spray splashed over the deck.
"Will!" Robin shouted over the wind, pulling Will forward and pointing up at the centre mast. "That splintered wood will tear the sail, think you can get up there?!"
Sure enough, one of the beams of the centre mast that supported the mainsail had broken in the wind. It flew wildly back and forth while the crew on deck and halfway up the sail fought to steady it. With each toss of the waves and violent gust of wind the fabric blew dangerously close to the sharp splintered edges. With the front sail already torn in two, if they lost another the ship would pitch dangerously close to the waves.
Will reached for his belt. His small, single handed axe that he kept strapped there had not fallen out below decks. Swallowing back the terror and knowing that he could get through the splintered wood if he could manage the climb he nodded.
Despite his violent nausea, Little John was the sturdiest man on board, the only one whose size would help him keep his feet. Staggering across the deck with Much and Djaq close behind he bellowed to the crew to toss him the rope. Anchoring himself as firmly as he could he pulled the rope taut, steadying the flailing enough to enable someone quick enough to climb.
"Be careful!" Will heard Djaq shout over the wind as he and Robin grabbed firmly onto the mast, steeling themselves against the monstrous wave that pounded the starboard side of the ship. Nearly losing his grip, only to be saved by Robin reaching out and throwing an arm around his chest Will let out a long nervous breath and looked up. He snatched at a rope as he blew by and with a serious nod from Robin, tightened his grip and began to climb. It was the same as scaling the castle walls really, or any of one of the hundreds of escape methods they'd used over the years that involved climbing. Except that the castle walls did not sway violently in the wind, and there were no waves waiting to strike with enough force to send him flying into the ocean.
Every muscle in his arms ached as he scrambled hand over hand up the rope, high, too high above the deck until he found the first foothold. He paused, resting his arms for a moment and throwing his arms as far around the mast as he could to support himself.
He dared a look up, squinting hard against the rain. He wasn't high enough yet.
Never again. When they landed in Portsmouth, Will never wanted to cross the sea again. He'd sooner walk back to the Holy Land. Gripping the rope tightly he resumed his ascent up the ship. Five, size, seven more solid pulls that carried him high enough. If he leaned just a little further to the right, he could reach the broken wood. But that would mean releasing the rope. Don't look down. Getting his feet on the boom was the easy part. Keeping them there was another thing.
Eding back to mast, Will wrapped his legs as tightly as he could around the wood, and not a moment too soon. Someone shouted something below him, and a moment later a terrifyingly loud clap of thunder overhead made him let go of the rope. Lightning flashed the moment he looked down, illuminating for a second the wide eyed faces of his friends. John, straining with the effort of holding the sail still, the combined strength of Allan, Much and Djaq on the other side supporting him and Robin, frantically waving a rope towards Will to grab.
Breath coming short and fast, Will tugged his axe from it's loop on his belt and leaned, putting all his strength into his legs to hold himself somewhat securely as he reached out with his right hand, angling the axe to get the job done as quickly as possible. One, two, three short sharp hacks and a piece of splintered wood dropped and immediately blew away in the wind. He leaned further, another inch to the right and pain shot up and down his sides at the stretch. One, two, three, four more blows with the axe and the rest of the damaged wood fell away, no longer a danger of tearing the sail. Moving the axe perilously in his hand so he held the blunt side of the blade he scraped and smoothed out the tiny splinters of wood as best he could. The ship lurched and the tool fell like a stone from his hand as he shouted and madly made a grab for the mast.
He was going to die. Much was right. He was going to die on the way back to England from falling from a mast in a storm after surviving far worse things. He couldn't hold on much longer. The wood was too wet to keep a hold on and his knees were beginning to give out.
Then something struck the back of his head, something solid and heavy that made him dare to look around.
"Will! Catch it!"
Then he saw it, the second time it swung around, the rope he'd let go of earlier hurtle back towards the last of his strength he leaned backwards, grasping onto the rope just as his legs gave out and he swung backwards away from the mast.
It was less of a climb and more of a slide and he scrambled as fast as he could in the rain down the rope, the harsh fibres tearing at his palms as he slid back towards the deck. He hit the planks hard, lost his footing and fell on his back with an exhausted sigh.
"Will! Are you alright?!" And then Robin was at his side, grabbing his hand and hauling him up to his unsteady legs. He was smiling, beaming so widely that for a moment he looked like his old self. "Well done!"
"I'm fine…" Will nodded, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to suppress the complete panic he'd just experienced a moment ago. With a loud roar, John let go, letting the rest of the crew move in to tie off the rope. The wind suddenly did not seem so wild now Will was back on the ship, with flooring beneath his feet.
"If we're all safely back on the boat...you won't mind if I just…" Allan tore away from the group, throwing himself onto the edge of the boat and emptying his stomach over the side.
"Allan! No!" Djaq tore away after him, placing her hands on the back of Allan's vest and pulling him backwards just as the boat rocked so fiercely that if she had been a moment later, Allan would have been in the sea.
Still slipping and sliding through the water that splashed around their feet, the storm did not seem so harsh. The ship, though still rocking fiercely from side to side, seemed to plough forward through the waves that fought against it. Allan groaned, collapsed in a heap at the side of the boat as Djaq ran to Will, She threw her arms around him and it was all he could do not to drop to his knees he was so spent.
"I'm fine, I'm fine, it was nothin'." He shook his head, taking her hand and flashing a quick and tired smile at her.
"It has only been a week. Another three weeks of this? I might have rather died in the sun anyway!" Much shouted, grabbing tightly onto a fresh water barrel to steady himself, his soft cap long since blown from his head and lost in the sea.
"Ships are made to withstand greater storms than this, Much. And so, my friend, are you." Robin cried back, "It will pass!"
And in time it did. The wind quietened, taming the waves within the hour until the ship could once again raise over them. The crew scurried back and forth, bailing the inches of water that had covered the decks with wooden buckets and salvaging the cargo that had not been thrown overboard. The rain lessened, and the tossing of the great vessel to-and-fro did not seem so harsh. The clattering of barrels and sword and crates below ceased as things began to settle again,
Weary and soaked to the skin, they all dropped heavily to the decks. Little John sprawled out on his back, his long shaggy hair plastered to his face as he fought to catch his breath. Allan, with assistance from Robin lay on his left side recovering from the violent bouts of nausea that had overtaken him, Will collapsed to lean against the mast he had scaled not long ago with Much on his left side. Robin and Djaq alone still stood, though they were both shaking from head to toe.
"So…I suppose a career change from outlaws to pirates is out of the question?"
Tired laughter scattered around the group at Robin's well timed quip and even Allan managed an ill looking grin. The sun was barely beginning to rise on the horizon, casting a cool purple haze of light across the water and bathing the worn faces of the seafarers in an eerie glow.
"I guess that is this month's bath sorted."
"It does not matter how used to it I might be, you men will always disgust me." Djaq turned up her nose and rolled her eyes while the others just laughed. "But it is true, at least now you stink of salt and not of sweat."
"Well…" Much sighed, pulling himself to his feet and wringing out the bottom of his tunic against the deck. "I am going in search of dry blankets, if we didn't drown then pneumonia will kill us all."
"I tell ya what, good thing Much is here or who would imagine all the ways we're going to die?" Will smirked a little, shaking his head as Much disappeared back into the hold.
"The sun will soon rise and dry us all." Djaq added, making her way over to check on Allan's well being who just groaned and closed his eyes. "You will be fine now the swaying has stopped. Only three more weeks."
"Three weeks too long. Turn around, let's just go back to Acre."
Djaq laughed again and Will's lips twitched upwards at the sound as he watched her tending to their ill friend. That old pang of jealousy raised its head once more against his will. He didn't even know if Allan still harboured feelings for the Saracen, and even if he did, their friendship was too strong for Allan to try to sabotage what Will had been so lucky to find. So it was unwarranted really, but nevertheless the protective urge to whisk her away was still there.
He rose on legs that still wavered beneath him for a moment, swaying with phantom waves that were not really there, and stepped away to look out over the stern.
"Hey, you never said how you knew."
"How I knew what?" Will looked up briefly from the arrow shaft he was carefully whittling as Allan dropped down on the rock beside him and threw a careful look over his shoulder.
"That the Saracen's a girl." Allan hissed, mindful of the rest of the gang, and their newest member, talking around Much's fire within hearing distance. "How'd you know? It's not like the…you know...chest area is particularly obvious."
"Because that's the only way to tell the difference?" His face burnt hot, redness rising very rapidly to his cheeks and he fixed his gaze firmly on the arrow and hoped that Allan wouldn't be able to see his embarrassment and know that was exactly how he'd found out.
"Well...the most obvious one anyway. How'd you kn-"
Allan went quiet and Will stilled his scraping movements with the axe as footsteps crunched across the leaves towards them. He kept his head down, the last thing he needed was anyone else to overhear this conversation. John stepped past, sparing only a quick glance in their direction as he trudged by and disappeared into the trees.
"Gonna be weird having a girl around, you might actually have to watch that blathering rude mouth of yours." Allan joked, nudging Will with his shoulder and sighing when he didn't get the reaction he was hoping for. "Alright, only joking. So, how'd you figure it out?"
"Can we not...talk about this? Djaq's a woman, she's in the gang, end of story."
"...Hang on…"
And try as he did to avoid it, Allan grabbed his shoulder and hauled him up until he could read the redness all over Will's face. A grin slowly started to spread over his face and he started to laugh. "You're as scarlet as your own name, you saw her didn't you?"
"Shut up!" Will hissed, shoving Allan away with a heavy sigh and looking furtively over his shoulder to make sure they weren't about to be overheard. "Yeah, okay? They all went to wash, Robin told me to tell 'em that we were going, and I assumed Djaq was gonna be with the others...I thought it was a guy and it wouldn't matter."
He'd been so flustered and shocked in that moment that he could still see her, still feel the sting of the branches as they flung back hard into his face. But he could hardly be blamed for being flustered, it wasn't as though he'd seen a naked woman before. He'd barely talked to girls back in Loxley at all.
Allan burst out laughing. "Look at your face! Oh poor little Will...you know I keep forgetting how blasted innocent you are. Must have been the shock of your life."
"I said, shut it!" With a harder shove this time Allan toppled onto the forest floor, still laughing a little too loudly at Will's expense. "Shut up, she already thinks I was spying."
"Which you wouldn't do because Will Scarlett is far too moral for that."
"Exactly." Will hissed, and resumed smoothing out the sides of the arrow.
"Alright, alright...I'm sorry. I'll let it go." Stifling his laughter to a few teasing chuckles, Allan picked himself up and brushed the leaves from his legs. "I just wanted to know because I couldn't tell. It'll be good. We could do with having a medic around."
"Are you alright?" A soft hand on his back brought Will back to the present. Djaq stood there, the rising sun making her dark skin glow bronze in the morning light, "You were very brave to climb in those conditions."
"Well, it's not much less dangerous than the rest of our lives are." Will smiled, and looked down at his hands, opening and closing his red raw palms. "I'm fine though. No braver than anyone else here is."
"Your modesty does you credit, Will. But something is bothering you. Will you tell me?"
"Nothing's bothering me."
"You never have been able to lie to me before, what makes you think I believe you now?"
A soft chuckle slipped past his lips as he looked down into her wide brown eyes that firmly held his with a determination that would not be denied. "Alright."
Together they slipped away, passing Much on the stairs to the hold and having two dry albeit worse for wear blankets pushed into their arms. Djaq, still soaking wet, immediately wrapped hers around herself and, in a movement that Will was sure was a newly awoken old habit, drew it over her head to cover her hair. She seemed to realise after a moment and with a small scoff at her own action drew it back down around her shoulders.
"How easily it was forgotten, now I cannot help doing it."
He followed her through the sleeping quarters, carefully stepping over arrows strewn about the cabin and between barrels and crates that had been thrown here and there in the storm. At last she stopped, drawing Will with her into the storeroom, lit feebly by a flickering lantern hanging from the low ceiling, and perching herself atop a water barrel.
"Speak. What is wrong?"
The small storeroom had such a low ceiling that if he stood completely straight, the top of Will's head brushed it. He leaned back against the wall and slid his feet out slightly, crossing his arms over his chest and resigning himself to the conversation they had not yet had the time to have.
"I feel like I took you away from where you should be."
"What on earth does that mean?"
"I see you looking back behind the ship sometimes, like a bird that wants to fly home but can't."
Every day in the week that had passed since they had disembarked, he caught Djaq looking back, he wasn't even sure she knew that she did it. Back in the Holy Land, in Bassam's house she had opened up a whole new side to him, the side that was still Saffiyah, and told him stories of her childhood. Her love for the birds that Bassam cared for, how before assuming her brother's identity and fighting to avenge his death, she had always thought she would stay there.
There was a part of Will, though he hated to think it, that thought she had only returned to England because of him. "Are you sorry that you didn't stay? I would have stayed with you, you know. I'd follow you to the sun."
"Ah…" She smiled softly as Will's green eyes fell to the floor. "A little." Djaq confessed at last. "I miss Bassam dearly, I miss my homeland. And perhaps in time I will come back again."
"Then why didn't-" He began, looking up just as Djaq alighted from her barrel and stepped closer to him.
"Because, Will," She interrupted, angling her body so she faced him and fondly placed a hand on his scruffy cheek, "Sherwood is my home. This family is my home now, and my job is not finished there."
"Promise me you're not only returning for me."
"Would that be so bad? You just said that you would follow me. Can I not follow you? Look at you…" She laughed softly and it was only then that Will realised his eyes were filling with unshed tears. He cursed himself. He'd always been the softer one of the group, and he hated it sometimes.
"But I promise. England is my place for now. I know it as surely as I know that you are my heart, Will Scarlett."
"Really?" But then before he could say another word her lips were on his, and he melted in her hands. His eyes flickered closed, his arms automatically encircled her waist and it was all just Djaq.