Joints creaked, bones cracked, and small moans of effort erupted from the throats of the sweating men, but slowly, agonisingly slowly, the taut arch of serpent inched backward. "Looped tight to the keel!" Drinian croaked, acutely aware of the scrape of barnacle-crusted hide against the base of the hull.
"She's movin' Cap'n!" Rhince's words would not have been audible beyond his immediate neighbour. Drinian grunted.
"Not fast enough - the sternpiece," he managed. On his other side, Caspian froze, hands sliding against the wet, muscled bulk of the monster.
"An axe!" he heaved, sweat stinging his eyes and running salty into his gaping mouth. "And still - shove!"
"Can't - push - harder!" gasped Edmund, whose hands were lacerated from pressing against a particularly jagged encrustation. "Ouf!"
Lucy scrambled awkwardly along the deck, heading for the axe she knew was stored inside the poop hatch. She was almost there, hand outstretched to grasp it (though whether she would have had the strength to swing it as required must remain doubtful), when there was a massive cracking sound, like a small copse being felled. The Dawn Treader was thrown up atop a lashing surge of ocean, her purple sail banging as it was struck by the full force of the breeze. Tossed sideways by the force of the motion, Lucy alone was able to observe the loop of monster tightening in to nothing before it vanished on another splash beneath the waves
"We're free!" she shouted exultantly to men who, crumpled on the deck where they had stood, were simply too dog-tired to fathom what had happened. "Look! It's snapped off the sternpiece, but we're free! Golly, it's enormous!"
"Not chasing after us, Ma'am?" His head was spinning: Drinian was uncertain whether he felt giddy with relief, or from a shortage of oxygen left in his lungs by his recent exertions. Cautious, he forced himself up onto one elbow, blinking astern to see the gigantic monster nose along its own length, probably in search of the Dawn Treader's wreckage. "Aye, a fair size: a full-grown, adult male, I should say; powerful enough to snap the ship at her strongest point. A pity we should lose that fine piece of carving, but better we labour without a sternpiece than the likeliest alternative."
Murmurs of agreement muted into chuckles. "Might've took one o' them teeth as a new sword for the King, Cap'n," Erlian volunteered, baring his own uneven set. "No Dwarf'll carve an edge that sharp, I'll wager!"
"I should as lief keep a dozen leagues between those teeth and my hand, though I thank you for the suggestion, shipmate," said Caspian mildly.
"Have you seen aught like that beast afore, Captain?" Rynelf massaged his throat, dissatisfied with the raspy voice it gave out. Drinian raised a weary grin.
"Once, and that at a comfortingly great distance; they seldom stray into populated seas. All well, men?"
Assorted cautious murmurs of assent were raised. More quietly, Drinian addressed the anxious girl hopping from one prone figure to the next. "And you, Lucy?"
"Goodness, I'm the only one who is all right, Drinian!" she cried. "Can you sit up, Caspian?"
"Just, I suppose." Most of the men were stirring themselves now, lifting heads, flexing backs and arms. "Ow!"
"You too, Sire?" Drinian stretched himself gingerly in rising, giving his shoulders a tentative roll. "Fancy I've pulled every muscle in my back," he announced.
"I've pulled muscles I didn't even know I had," said Eustace solemnly. "Ouch! Sorry about your sword, Caspian. That thing must have hide as tough as iron!"
"Yours was a gallant gesture, Eustace," the King told him kindly. "The teachings of Sir Reepicheep are showing their worth."
"Aye, and as to that…" Drinian chuckled as the Mouse, swaying with fatigue, clambered awkwardly up the poop ladder to flop amongst its companions. "Who ever thought to hear a pacifist's words coming from our valiant knight? Don't fight, indeed!"
People laughed. Reepicheep bowed his head. "The teaching between Their Majesties' gallant kinsman and myself is equally shared, my Lord. However, grateful am I, Your Majesties - gentlemen all - that my intentions were so swiftly discerned. Alone, I should have had an equal chance of raising Cair Paravel on a single claw as of forcing yonder monster from our decks."
"What's the witless animal doing, anyway?" Eustace wanted to know. "I'd have expected it to be chasing us by now!"
"Don't you go puttin' ideas in it's 'ead, young feller, if you please!" called Pittencream. Eustace raised both hands in apology.
"It seems to think it'll find us floating around." The beast could still be seen, away to the west, but making no effort to pursue its prey. Drinian, leaning against the taffrail, laughed.
"The Sea Serpent depends upon its strength, not its wits, Eustace. With luck, it might spend the next few minutes wondering where we're gone, giving us time to get clear! Rhince, breach a cask of rum for our fellows! I dare say we all have earned an extra tot!"
A ragged cheer went up. Grinning hugely, the Mate bustled below with two of the crew to carry a large, darkly aged oak cask onto the main deck. "Take a nip yourself, Cap'n?" he called. Drinian cocked his head, considering the question.
"Aye; and we'll have a thimbleful for Reepicheep too, I think," he decided, frowning at the Mouse, which still trembled with exhaustion. Obligingly, Rhince dripped a few drops of pungent alcohol into a ladle. Lucy took it from him.
"I shan't have any, thank you, Rhince," she said. "Here, Reep; I suppose it might make you feel better."
"Ouf! I'll say!" Edmund winced against the strength of the raw spirit, but he had to admit, it had a pleasingly warming effect in the stomach. Drinian knocked back his measure in a single swallow, savouring the stinging heat of the liquor against his throat. The taste was one he had never entirely acquired, in all his years at sea; but there was nothing more warming, after a bad shock, than a good strong tot of rum.
All his years, he thought; and not yet so much as fifteen passed since the ten-year-old orphan of Etinsmere had clambered aboard his first Archenlandish vessel. It said much for the poor condition of Narnia's recent maritime escapades that a man in his early twenties could consider himself amongst the kingdom's most experienced mariners.
The ship, he realised, was yawing more than was her habit. "Peridan! How does she steer, with the weight of the sternpiece gone?"
"Fair enough, Sir." But the seamen all knew, their Captain had a rare instinct for reading the behaviour of his ship. Without needing to be told, the man at the tiller moved aside, allowing Drinian to rest both hands on the wheel.
"As I thought; a touch out of balance," he murmured. "Rhince, we shall have to shift a little of the ballast aft to compensate for the loss of the sternpiece's weight. Perhaps a brace of wine casks to start?"
"I'll see to it, Sir." Immediately, Rhince was assigning men to the new task. Slowly, the poop was cleared, until only Drinian, Caspian, Eustace and the Pevensies were left.
"I hope there aren't any other nasties lurking at the bottom of these seas," said Eustace, feeling very much better than he had after losing two games of chess to a Talking Mouse and watching rain fall for what felt like for ever. Drinian grimaced.
"There's only the Kraken, on the same scale as the Sea Serpent, of course," he said, running a practised eye over the men returning to their duties down on the main deck. "And we should be unlucky indeed, to encounter both in the same voyage! Of course, these are uncharted waters. There may be others, yet unknown to Narnians."
"That's cheering!" said Edmund. "I'll tell you one thing for nothing, though: I always rather wanted to see a Sea Serpent, when we were here before. Old Purlian, the captain of our galleon, used to tell me, be careful what you wish for, King Edmund. I suppose he was right!"
"I'm sure he was!" said Caspian devoutly. "If I hear anyone expressing the remotest desire to see a Kraken, I'll - I'll… put him in irons! I will, really! Drinian - Lucy - Eustace! What are you laughing at? It's not funny, I tell you!"