5

The Tempest

The fish had come steady for two days. Many barrels were filled and salted before getting stowed below decks. The confrontation between the ogre and the Captain had been discussed by most of the ship, but of greater significance to most was the news of the fish. Winsul's lines produced a supply of food that dispelled the specter of hunger casting fear and doubt throughout the ship. Tomon heard people speaking of Antonica in hopeful tones again. He told Winsul of this upon his return to the fish lines.

"That is well," Winsul said while baiting a hook. "Morale on a ship is important."

"How did you know?" Tomon asked. Winsul's hands paused, an eyebrow raising as the deep blue eyes looked to Tomon. "How did I know what?"

Tomon sat down on a stool. "How did you know that, how did you say it, the sea would provide?"

"Ah," the fisherman smiled with a shrug, looking back to the small fish he would impale on the hook. "I have sailed on many a ship in the past, m'boy. There's no substitute for experience. Spend enough time on the high seas and you get a feel for when you are coming up on some fishing grounds. Almost a shame the wind picked up this morning." He paused, looking to the sky to the north again. "I could almost have argued for another day on those grounds to fill more barrels with salted fish, but the Captain was in a hurry to use the wind and move on."

Tomon looked to the skies to the north, but the words of the ogre echoed in his mind. "Rorshif called you a slave of Prexus. Why did he say that?"

"The ogre is scared, Tomon. He wants others to be scared with him." Winsul reached into the bucket next to him for another fish. "I don't think I need to tell you that the Devoted want everyone to worship the Seraphs. What place of worship did your father take you to in Dalnir? Karana? Errolisi?"

"Mithaniel," Tomon said.

The fisherman nodded, baiting another hook. "Of course. A captain of the guard would look to Mithaniel. Your priest spoke of honor? Justice? Bravery in the face of battle?"

Tomon nodded.

"I expect he also warned about those who speak of 'other Gods'? Those who have been led astray? Become lost in the belief of 'false gods'?"

Tomon nodded. "How did you know?"

"Tomon," Winsul began in a patient voice, "some folks are comfortable in their beliefs and relationship with their god. They don't fret over their neighbor's worship. Not unless their neighbor worship's a god that asks for the sacrifice of a neighbor's blood, of course!" Winsul let out a low belly laugh, clearly amused by his own word.

Tomon took a moment to work out what had been said, then joined Winsul with a chuckle. "Yes, I suppose I might worry a bit about my neighbor then too."

Winsul took another fish, baited a hook, and began letting the line out. "Indeed. Most though, Tomon, think if others don't worship as they do, they're not to be trusted. Up to no good. Out to get them." He opened his eyes wide in a meaningful, threatening gaze at Tomon. "Evil!"

The fisherman leaned back, pushed the bucket of bait between them, and motioned to another line. "Let's earn our keep, boy." Tomon sat and joined Winsul in the task of baiting the next line.

"I don't want to naysay anything your father taught you, boy, but there's lots more to the world than what your priest wanted you to believe. Veeshan? The N'orl? The Shapers? Older powers that were around long before your Mithaniel." Winsul paused, looking to Tomon, letting those words sink in.

"Some have no room for that idea," he continued. "They call those that do 'slaves'…or worse. Rorshif is one of those that can't allow for others to think differently than himself. So he calls me a slave of Prexus." The fisherman shrugged.

Tomon frowned, a dead fish in his hand but forgotten. "So, you worship a god named Prexus?"

Winsul paused, studying the boy in front of him. "The real question is would it concern you if I did?"

Tomon shook his head almost immediately, not wanting to upset the fisherman. "It's just that the priest always called people who didn't follow the Seraphs such terrible things. He warned us about them, how dangerous they were, how we should not listen to them."

Winsul nodded. "We all get guidance from our elders when we're young. As we get older, we either start making up our own minds or continue letting others do it for us. Might be time you decided which it will be for you."

Tomon was about to ask Winsul again if he worshipped a god named Prexus. He wanted to know before he made up his mind. But at that moment, the fisherman looked up suddenly to the skies off port side. "Captain," he called in a warning tone.

Ahead at the front of the upper deck of the sterncastle, Captain Vagano was already looking to those same skies. "Aye, Winsul, I see them. Thunder of Karana be merciful…" Tomon followed their gaze and felt blood drain from his face. He was suddenly reminded of his dream the first morning on the ship after their escape. The sky looked as dark and threatening as in his dream.

In a moment's time, the bell alarm was ringing. Orders were given to batten down the hatches, shorten the sails, secure all gear above and below decks, and prepare for weather. The last thing Tomon saw before he was pushed below decks by the Master-at-Arms was a mountainous rolling wave in the distance topped by dark clouds.

"This old tug will not weather these waves, Winsul," Vagano said into the high winds. "Karana is angry! These waves of his were sent to punish the unprepared traveler."

Winsul stood with feet spread wide, balancing himself against the pitch and roll of the ship. The waves did indeed look unusual. Angry mountains, he thought.

"I can seek all the guidance the sea can provide, Captain," Winsul yelled above the high winds in response. "You may not like who answers my prayer!"

Captain Vagano, feet spread apart, hands gripping the wheel firmly, whipped his head toward Winsul. His suspicions confirmed, he stared accusingly at Winsul.

"Bah!" he yelled, looking at the waves rolling forward that would topple the ship in short order. "I'll plant a kiss on Veeshan's scaly back end if it keeps our keel underneath us! Do what you must, fisherman!"

Winsul stepped forward, his voice growing in strength as he began calling out to the sea ahead. Some of the words the Captain knew, some he did not. The chanting grew in strength and the wind that whipped over the deck of the ship seemed to grow quieter. The Seahorse rolled with the sea, climbing high waves and sliding down the back sides. Ropes snapped. Masts creaked and winds screamed.

Below decks, people cowered fearfully. The ship groaned under the strain of riding the mountains of water. Stouthammer and his men moved about without rest forestalling danger, adding supports when weak points threatened. Men manned the pumps desperately, glad to have something to do, fear lending them strength.

All people aboard the ship, above and below decks, could hear the sounds of Winsul chanting amidst the raging storm. Invoking the blessing of Prexus, calling upon him for guidance and asking for safe passage, sometimes speaking in words unknown to others, his voice did not cease until the storm had passed them by and the sea had calmed.

What they could not see below decks but what was seen by Captain Vagano and the small handful of sailors that stayed above was the miraculous journey amidst the fury of the sea. Mountains of water crested to great heights all about them. As each new set of angry hills rolled toward the ship, a way forward appeared that promised the thinnest of passages, narrow valleys amidst deadly peaks. Winsul and Vagano working together picked their way through the ever shifting maze.

Captain Vagano had sailed the seas enough to know the way through the storm had been more than he could have hoped to manage alone, at the helm of such an aging ship. A shallow trough had always appeared within reach. Waves crested late or in time to spare the ship the worst of impacts. His angle of approach was always faultless. Ever after, in stormy seas of far less danger, Vagano would seek in vain for the clarity of vision, peerless interpretation of wind and wave and deft navigation he had this day with Winsul at his side. Ever after, he would not attain it.