smackenzie (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
smackenzie) wrote2013-11-11 01:11 am
smackenzie) wrote2013-11-11 01:11 am
Entry tags:
in which they encounter a storm
So the Black Lightning set its course for Port Doras, with the understanding among the crew that they were searching for merchant ships fat with gold and local treasures, to try and make up for the disappointing voyage so far.
Of course two days after that decision, they ran smack into a storm. The morning was dark and cloudy, with the scent of damp in the air, and Maggie had barely finished her breakfast when the rain started. Wind followed immediately, and within minutes the deck was awash with rain and the Black Lightning heaved in the wind. Maggie stood on the quarterdeck yelling orders, contradicting orders given by Abna or Doren or Yora, sometimes even reversing orders she'd given herself. She could barely see the far end of the main deck, she couldn't see up into the rigging at all, and she had to trust that she could even be heard over the wind and rain and the creaking of the ship.
At one point one of the boys grabbed her arm and indicated that Yora wanted her down on the gun deck, so the two of them splashed across the deck to the hatch and climbed down. Water sluiced into the hatch behind them, nearly washing them off the steps and across the floor of the gun deck. Down here pirates scuttled back and forth trying to secure the cannon and make sure the gun ports were closed and keep the balls and powder dry. Rain water dripped down from the upper deck and through the covers of the gun ports, and small waterfalls splashed down through the hatches. The ship rolled on the waves, sometimes throwing wet pirates across the slippery floor. Yora informed Maggie that half the gunpowder was wet and probably ruined. Maggie told her there was nothing they could do. Yora did not look appeased.
Maggie skidded across the gun deck and back up the hatch to the main deck, where riggers chased flying ropes and tried to secure the sails. The cannon up here were more secure than those down on the gun deck, but Maggie was still a bit worried that one would come loose and either fly across the deck or skid forward and crash through the gunwale and into the water. She screamed orders at the riggers, unsure if they could hear her, and finally resorted to grabbing someone's arm to tell her what to do. The pirate that she'd grabbed yelled back that a few people had been washed overboard, and as Maggie was trying to determine who - and if it had actually happened or if the girl had just lost sight of them in all the storm - a crack of thunder and a loud boom made her look around just in time to see a sail come flying at them. She yanked the pirate down to the floor of the deck as the sail flapped overhead and people rushed to grab it. Maggie couldn't tell which sail it was or if something had snapped and set it free.
As soon as it was secured she hustled forward to the bow of the ship and the forecastle. She didn't expect to be able to see any distance in front of them, but she could get a different view of the deck. It looked about the same as it had from the quarterdeck - ropes and sails flapping, pirates scurrying, rain lashing. She hoped no one had been washed overboard, and just as she finished the thought a wave splashed over the gunwale, soaking cannon and crew.
The storm lasted the rest of the day and into the night, but by the sunrise the seas had calmed enough to sail on and the rain had decreased to a much more manageable level, and Maggie decided it was high time for her to be in bed. One of the chickens on board had died apparently of fright, and one of the cows down in the hold had fallen and broken its leg, and there were minor bruises and injuries among the crew, but no one had been washed overboard and no one had been seriously hurt, and whatever damage the Black Lightning had suffered could be repaired.
Maggie sloshed into her cabin, where everything had been thrown around - she didn't have much, but it was now scattered all over the place - and she was unsurprised to find the priest sitting in the one chair, apparently waiting for her. He was just as wet and bedraggled as she was, and even though he was only dripping on a wooden chair, it was still her chair and he was still in her space, and she was less than pleased to see him there.
"Out," she demanded, pointing towards the door. "I am in no mood."
"Someday you will say yes to me," he said cheerfully, his tone of voice completely at odds with his appearance. He stood. "You will be cold in those wet clothes."
"You will note that my bed is dry, and these are not the only clothes I own. I do have a dry shirt to sleep in. Now leave me alone so I can do so."
"As you wish." Now his tone was mocking, and Maggie resisted the urge to throw something at him as he left the cabin. There was nothing to hand and she was too tired, anyway. She wondered at how he could seem so awake, after an entire day and night of fighting the storm.
As she crawled into bed she realized that he had probably spent the storm down in the hold, trying to stay dry but not having to do much work. He had evidently come up to the deck at some point, because he had been soaked through, but Maggie did not doubt that he had done as little hard work as possible and was thus less exhausted than she was.
Or perhaps it was all an act, and he was indeed tired and scared - for a storm like that, to a person who was unused to being at sea, could be quite frightening - but did not wish for her to see it in him. He had raised his defenses to protect himself, perhaps. Well, she knew that about him, and she should not take offense. She remembered how he had confessed to her on the island, how he had told her that he had lost his way and no longer knew how to worship, or how to express his faith.
But he had had the Articles of Association read to him, and he had signed them indicating his will to join her crew, and he was thus a pirate on the Black Lightning, and he should be pulling his weight or he would get no share of the booty. She should speak to him later, after she had slept. Yes, she would do that. She would talk to him.
The rain turned to drizzle outside, although there was still a good wind, and the sun rose behind the clouds - although none of them could see it - and Maggie fell asleep.
words: 1157
total words: 17,233
Of course two days after that decision, they ran smack into a storm. The morning was dark and cloudy, with the scent of damp in the air, and Maggie had barely finished her breakfast when the rain started. Wind followed immediately, and within minutes the deck was awash with rain and the Black Lightning heaved in the wind. Maggie stood on the quarterdeck yelling orders, contradicting orders given by Abna or Doren or Yora, sometimes even reversing orders she'd given herself. She could barely see the far end of the main deck, she couldn't see up into the rigging at all, and she had to trust that she could even be heard over the wind and rain and the creaking of the ship.
At one point one of the boys grabbed her arm and indicated that Yora wanted her down on the gun deck, so the two of them splashed across the deck to the hatch and climbed down. Water sluiced into the hatch behind them, nearly washing them off the steps and across the floor of the gun deck. Down here pirates scuttled back and forth trying to secure the cannon and make sure the gun ports were closed and keep the balls and powder dry. Rain water dripped down from the upper deck and through the covers of the gun ports, and small waterfalls splashed down through the hatches. The ship rolled on the waves, sometimes throwing wet pirates across the slippery floor. Yora informed Maggie that half the gunpowder was wet and probably ruined. Maggie told her there was nothing they could do. Yora did not look appeased.
Maggie skidded across the gun deck and back up the hatch to the main deck, where riggers chased flying ropes and tried to secure the sails. The cannon up here were more secure than those down on the gun deck, but Maggie was still a bit worried that one would come loose and either fly across the deck or skid forward and crash through the gunwale and into the water. She screamed orders at the riggers, unsure if they could hear her, and finally resorted to grabbing someone's arm to tell her what to do. The pirate that she'd grabbed yelled back that a few people had been washed overboard, and as Maggie was trying to determine who - and if it had actually happened or if the girl had just lost sight of them in all the storm - a crack of thunder and a loud boom made her look around just in time to see a sail come flying at them. She yanked the pirate down to the floor of the deck as the sail flapped overhead and people rushed to grab it. Maggie couldn't tell which sail it was or if something had snapped and set it free.
As soon as it was secured she hustled forward to the bow of the ship and the forecastle. She didn't expect to be able to see any distance in front of them, but she could get a different view of the deck. It looked about the same as it had from the quarterdeck - ropes and sails flapping, pirates scurrying, rain lashing. She hoped no one had been washed overboard, and just as she finished the thought a wave splashed over the gunwale, soaking cannon and crew.
The storm lasted the rest of the day and into the night, but by the sunrise the seas had calmed enough to sail on and the rain had decreased to a much more manageable level, and Maggie decided it was high time for her to be in bed. One of the chickens on board had died apparently of fright, and one of the cows down in the hold had fallen and broken its leg, and there were minor bruises and injuries among the crew, but no one had been washed overboard and no one had been seriously hurt, and whatever damage the Black Lightning had suffered could be repaired.
Maggie sloshed into her cabin, where everything had been thrown around - she didn't have much, but it was now scattered all over the place - and she was unsurprised to find the priest sitting in the one chair, apparently waiting for her. He was just as wet and bedraggled as she was, and even though he was only dripping on a wooden chair, it was still her chair and he was still in her space, and she was less than pleased to see him there.
"Out," she demanded, pointing towards the door. "I am in no mood."
"Someday you will say yes to me," he said cheerfully, his tone of voice completely at odds with his appearance. He stood. "You will be cold in those wet clothes."
"You will note that my bed is dry, and these are not the only clothes I own. I do have a dry shirt to sleep in. Now leave me alone so I can do so."
"As you wish." Now his tone was mocking, and Maggie resisted the urge to throw something at him as he left the cabin. There was nothing to hand and she was too tired, anyway. She wondered at how he could seem so awake, after an entire day and night of fighting the storm.
As she crawled into bed she realized that he had probably spent the storm down in the hold, trying to stay dry but not having to do much work. He had evidently come up to the deck at some point, because he had been soaked through, but Maggie did not doubt that he had done as little hard work as possible and was thus less exhausted than she was.
Or perhaps it was all an act, and he was indeed tired and scared - for a storm like that, to a person who was unused to being at sea, could be quite frightening - but did not wish for her to see it in him. He had raised his defenses to protect himself, perhaps. Well, she knew that about him, and she should not take offense. She remembered how he had confessed to her on the island, how he had told her that he had lost his way and no longer knew how to worship, or how to express his faith.
But he had had the Articles of Association read to him, and he had signed them indicating his will to join her crew, and he was thus a pirate on the Black Lightning, and he should be pulling his weight or he would get no share of the booty. She should speak to him later, after she had slept. Yes, she would do that. She would talk to him.
The rain turned to drizzle outside, although there was still a good wind, and the sun rose behind the clouds - although none of them could see it - and Maggie fell asleep.
words: 1157
total words: 17,233