[Nuranar]

The Yonder Bound’s brig was undeniably bigger than the Might of Realge’s, but the murky darkness didn’t disguise how cramped it still was. The North Wind’s crew – what was left of it – numbered barely twenty, and all wounded at least slightly. Still too many for this hole, Calnan winced as a sudden roll of the ship threw someone into his knee. But there were more important things to think about now. He leaned over and said softly in Telson’s ear, “Just wait.”

The Gondorian’s head snapped around and he positively glared at Calnan, the officer about to bite the head off an insolent soldier. Then, recollecting himself, he grew wary, then innocently puzzled. “Wait for what?” he inquired.

Calnan smiled to himself. He knew Telson had mentally classed him with Devon and Callath as mere “boys,” perhaps brave and skillful, but inexperienced and with a lot to learn. Calnan was two and three years older than the others, and Telson’s attitude amused him. A boy he might still be, but between a seventeen-year-old boy and a twenty-year-old boy there could be a vast difference. He had seen Telson awake from his emotional stupor in the Might’s hold, seen his eyes, measured and intense, minutely examine every inch of the brig, seen the resolve grow in his face as he sat in thought. He knew what the silent Gondorian was planning. “You know what I mean,” he answered, still softly. “Any chance is better than none, and right now that’s all you’ve got.”

Telson didn’t answer for a moment, then whispered, “And what would you call any chance?”

Calnan was ready for this. “Waiting until this storm hits, then breaking out. As it is, you’d be spitted by the first corsair you’d meet – if you could get it open before they saw you – but any degree of confusion works for us.”

Telson nodded, then frowned. “What storm?”

“When they were taking us over here, remember how hot it was, how calm the sea was? And now . . . ” He shrugged and glanced around. The ship was beginning to roll, heavily, erratically. They heard running feet and faint shouts above them, even over the growing creak and groan of the timbers. “Unless I imagined that bank of clouds on the horizon, they’ll be in for it and we’ll have as much chance as we can hope for.”

~ * ~ * ~

Their chance came some two hours later. Apparently the ship’s captain had given up trying to hold his course, and they were all but running before the wind. The rolling was less, but the pitch of the deck was terrifying. Calnan had been showing more confidence to Telson than he had actually felt, and the violence of a serious storm at sea appalled him. Telson was in no mood to take him to task for it, though; the man’s seasickness had returned with a vengeance.

From the confusion of noise that filtered down, he guessed they had already lost part of one mast. They had to get out, and fast, but it looked like the corsairs were going to make sure they’d go down with the ship.

CRACK! A splintering groan shuddered through the ship; a few seconds later, the deck canted violently to starboard. “That’s a mast!” cried someone. The few corsairs remaining below dashed up the gangway. As the ship’s rolling redoubled, irregular and horrible, water began running in between the creaking timbers. “We’re going to sink!”

Calnan grabbed Telson’s shoulders. “Come on, man, they’re gone!" Telson tried to rise, then slipped as the deck fell sickeningly. White and trembling, he felt in his pocket and pulled out the rusty nail Calnan had seen him fish from between two planks back on the Might. Snatching it as he held it out, Calnan awkwardly struggled across to the door of the brig, hooked one foot through the bars, and began to bring his tool into play. He’d picked locks before, but never with – The sea gave a lurch and threw him into the door, then tossed him back and he all but lost his grip. This is impossible! he gasped to himself. It would take all his strength just to hang on.

Suddenly a body hurled into him. Two arms, thrust through the bars, held tight and pinned him into the door. “I’ll give you as long as I can!” an urgent voice said in his ear.

Calnan’s hands were already busy with the lock. The ship’s writhing worsened, but stabilized by whoever was behind him, he concentrated on opening that door.

Finally the bolt shot back with a snap, and the heavy door swung open, dragging Calnan with it. There was a ragged cheer and a rush for the companionway. Recovering his balance, Calnan turned and recognized Sedal. “Thank you, sir,” he panted.

“Don’t mention it,” the surgeon said, extricating his arm from the door. “Come on!”

The uproar and confusion on deck was overpowering. The corsairs, fully occupied with trying to keep their ship afloat, were totally unprepared for the assault of the furious Gondorians. Within seconds an all-or-nothing brawl broke out, fighting with fists, pieces of wreckage, anything to hand.

The ship itself was already a wreck: One mast was entirely gone, one was but a jagged-ended spar innocent of yards or sails, and the remnant of the third, with one loose sail snapping in the wind, was threatening to capsize them. And the ship had taken a lot of water. Even Calnan could tell that the she was riding far lower that she should.

A cry came from aft as the helmsman lost his grip on the wheel. The ship yawed slowly to starboard. Now the waves which they had been riding began to strike the ship’s side, driving it over to port. Audible even above the storm, the timbers creaked and snapped; the groaning deck seemed to ripple. “Abandon ship!” someone called. “She’s breaking up!” Panic-stricken, some corsairs scrambled for the ship’s boat and tried to cut it free.

Calnan glanced wildly around deck and seeing Devon, tried to make for him, but the next great wave, breaking over the deck, swept him over the side. He finally surfaced, swam desperately for a spar floating nearby. The ship was now fifty yards behind him; he turned to it just in time to see the port rails dip under and stay. There was no sign of the boat, and few men were still clinging to the deck. Where was Devon? With his bad arm he wouldn’t last long in the water. Calnan tried to heave himself up on the spar, frantically scoured the waves around him – nothing. And when he turned back – nothing. The Yonder Bound was gone.