Chapter 4
The good weather did not last for long. Over the next few days the wind strengthened and the seas rose and before long they were running with minimal sail on a big swell. The Gwael, which handled as well as any ship of its size in such circumstances was still tossed like a cork between successive crests and troughs, and life on board quickly became wearisome as even the most simple tasks became difficult and troublesome. The constant spray and wash crashing over the ship from the bows and frequent rain showers meant that it was impossible to stay dry and there were a spate of minor injuries amongst the crew from falls or from being struck by objects that had broken loose. Lauriel bore it well enough, for she knew that they would be making excellent progress, but she was also concerned that conditions seemed to be worsening and that they might soon be facing the full wrath of the sea in the open ocean, something few of the mariners of Caras Eden would have dared.
By the evening of the third day it was clear her fears were being realised. The wind redoubled in ferocity, and took one of the topsails with it. There was no possibility of going aloft in these conditions to recover what remained so all they could do now was secure the ship and hope for the best. The rudder was lashed and a sea anchor thrown with some difficulty over the stern to try and keep the Gwael running before the wind, for she would soon be swamped if she went broadside on to the waves. Now there would be nothing to do but hope and endure.
The storm was deafening. The wind howled and roared, the sea thundered and all the while on board was a cacophony of bangs and crashes, the constant wash and dripping of water and above all the ship creaking and moaning like a tormented thing.
Lauriel was in the rear quarters with Amado, Norumir and the others and like them she had lashed herself to a bench to stop herself being thrown around. A single weak lantern swung wildly from the roof casting wild shadows and water dripped everywhere and ran back and forth in a thin sheet across the floor as the ship pitched and tossed. The longer the storm continued the more water would fill the Gwael's bilges, taking her lower and lower in the water and all the while increasing the amount coming aboard. It was impossible to bail out in these conditions and if the storm did not abate soon there would only be one eventual outcome. She suspected that was what had happened to her brother's ship all those years ago and wondered whether he had been sitting thinking the same thoughts as she was now when the sudden and violent end had come.
The whole thing was one endless terrifying torment. They heard a loud crack above the general roar and felt the ship swing bodily. "Mast" muttered Amado tersely, however if he was afraid then he was making a creditable job of concealing it. Lauriel too knew that she needed to maintain a calm exterior for the sake of the others, but it was at times like this that made her realise just how small and vulnerable they were adrift on an endless ocean. If the Gwael were to founder now there would be no hope of rescue and nobody would ever know what had befallen them.
But Lauriel had faith in her ship, and she willed the Gwael as a living thing to resist the fearsome pounding she was receiving. And the Gwael was indeed made of stern stuff and repaid her captain's faith in her, continuing the resist the constant battering until it finally began to subside the following morning. Her exhausted and bruised crew were finally able to start baling out the bilges and when Lauriel went up on deck to survey the damage to the masts she saw to her relief that it was not as bad as she had feared, though it was enough. The top of the mainmast now hung forlorn in a rats nest of lines, torn sailcloth and broken spars, but it looked as if it would be repairable once the sea became calm enough again. For now they could continue to run before the wind and add some sail as needed on the remaining two good masts. The wind had swung round to the southeast during the storm, so until Ataji was able to take some sun or star sightings he now had absolutely no idea where they were, and that thought clearly left him uneasy and impatient.
He remained unable to take a sighting for the next two days, but eventually the skies cleared and the wind and sea finally dropped sufficiently and he was able to estimate their position again. His mood as he reported to Lauriel was transformed, for according to his calculations they had made astonishing progress and ought to be making within sight of Numenor within the next two days. Happy once again he gave the helmsman Adanor a new heading to follow and resumed his busy routine measuring their progress.
The news that their journey might soon be over came as something of a shock to Lauriel for she had been so wrapped up in the business of running the ship and then in overseeing the complicated repairs after the storm that she realised she had given little thought to what would actually happen when they arrived at their destination. She, the daughter of a humble merchant would be the one representing their people as they were finally reunited with their ancient kin after an unimaginable length of time. There was no telling what they would find, or what kind of welcome they would receive. But, daunting as it was she had sailed into many strange ports to an uncertain welcome before, and in that respect at least this would be no different.
Ataji's forecast proved optimistic, though the winds had dropped after the storm they also became lighter and less favourable. Even with full sail they only made slow progress and were even completely becalmed for a spell, however they eventually reached a point where the little navigator suggested it would serve to post a lookout aloft. Excitement grew on board and there was much speculation about what the new land would be like. However the sea remained empty of any other sails, no seabirds flew overhead and no land was sighted. Ataji became agitated once again, resuming his feud with Adanor, and blaming the ancient map for being badly drawn and inaccurate. Perhaps the little islands in the bottom corner had not been the Tyll Eglain after all.
The excitement on board died down and was replaced by a mood of uneasy impatience, but Lauriel had seen this all before and hoped that once again Ataji would be proved right in the end. Now that they had come so far it barely seemed possible that they could fail to find an island more than one hundred and seventy leagues across even if somewhat off course, and Lauriel had given little thought to the possibility. But after another day passed without sight of land and doubt grew she began to consider the possibility that they would not after all find what they sought. They had ample if monotonous supplies of food, perhaps sufficient to make the slower return journey south against the prevailing winds if they supplemented it with fish, but the problem was always water. Even if they rigged sailcloth over the decks to collect rainwater it was likely they would run out many days before they reached the islands again and Lauriel knew it only took two or three for thirst to kill a man.
She pored over the copy of the ancient map and the mysterious lands it showed to the east. They were still a considerable distance away wherever they currently were, but much closer than the Tyll Eglain, and they would be sailing with the prevailing winds. It would also be impossible not to make landfall of some kind even if they were badly off course. And where there was land there was always water, save in the extreme south. A downcast Ataji confirmed that he would expect them to reach the unknown eastward lands within three weeks if the winds stayed favourable, and Lauriel knew their supplies could be made to last that long with a little careful shepherding. She resolved that if no land were sighted before nightfall the following day then she would abandon their quest and save her crew by sailing east.
She slept fitfully that night, filled with doubt and disappointment, her dreams confused and uneasy. She dreamt that the ship's bell was sounding an alarm on the deck above her head, and as the need to react woke her realised with a shock that the sound had followed her into the waking world. She dropped groggily from her hammock, quickly pulled on her boots and coat and left her cramped quarters, the ship full of sudden activity.
Adanor's son Adanath, who was big and grim faced just like his father and shared the watches with him, ceased ringing the bell when he saw Lauriel climbing the ladder up onto the poop deck. "Land, captain!" he cried, pointing off to the starboard side as Amado and the others joined them. It was just before before dawn, and in the chill half light banks of mist rolled over a calm sea like a silver mirror. There in the distance, half obscured in the rosy mist rose a tall steep sided island or headland with a flat top. Lauriel caught her breath, for perhaps they had found Numenor after all.