Chronicles of Ilandri - Volume 1

Out of the Depths (Pt.3)

Once the poor souls were offloaded, Bortak waited on the same barrel as before, for the sale to complete. Eventually he returned to the ship, carrying his bag of blood stained gold. "Now we sail for the Isle of Skald, then onwards into the east." He announced as he set foot back on deck. The process of putting out to sea began again. Tethers were unhitched and the sails unfurled. The ship was turned around and a course set to follow the coast into the east. They followed the coast for two weeks, stopping off occasionally to pick up fresh water and provisions. Nathaniel had been mingling with the crew far more, even taking to sleeping amongst them. He was wary that Bortak knew his medallion was of great value and he did not trust him not to try and steal it. On the first day of the third week, the ship was anchored off the northernmost point of the Kingdom of Nelleros. Bortak announced they would sight Skald the following day, then it would be a further two days to reach the easternmost coast of the Isle.

So far Bortak's predictions of landfall had proven correct. The fact that he was an exceptional navigator at sea was not something Nathaniel could deny. He fully trusted that they would find Skald in the morning, though he was still somewhat loath to believe Bortak had not been false once again. Nathaniel struggled to sleep the next night, despite now being somewhat accustomed to the foul smell of the slave vessel. The thought that the next few days would see him finally embark on the journey across the sea and to the kingdom of the elves, was occupying his mind. It was impossible to quiet the thoughts and go to sleep - he was too nervous. He closed his eyes and pictured Eira and Lucan, safe back in Nimwe. It gave him hope and he found himself smiling for the first time in a while.

The Isle of Skald was nothing more than a land mass off the coast of Nelleros which, Like Benthor, was large enough to stretch across the entire horizon when it came into view. "We shall make for land lads!" called Bortak, steering the ship towards a bay. "Take ourselves a bit of cargo before we cross the impossible sea!" The crew cheered but Nathaniel was instantly filled with rage.
"We must sail east, this was not part of the bargain," Nathaniel demanded.
"I promised to sail east and sail we will. But I said nothing about stopping to collect cargo on the way." Nathaniel was both angry and disgusted with the man at the same time. He did not think his opinion of him could drop any lower, but it did.

They wasted three days rounding up captives to fill out the ship with Bortak's precious cargo of flesh. The process was the same as before, finding unsuspecting tribes of primitive people and rounding them up, binding them and loading them into the ship. The voyage east across the sea would be gruelling for these people and no doubt they would have to suffer the journey back as well before Bortak could find somewhere to sell them into a life of servitude. The smell also intensified with the lower decks full of bodies vomiting and relieving themselves where they huddled. It was bad enough to witness the atrocities in the first month he spent sailing under Bortak. To witness them all over again was just repeating the sickening process from the start.

Finally, with fresh water on board, they left the Isle of Skald behind them and set a course east across the sea. Nathaniel stood on deck at the stern of the ship, watching until he could no longer see the landmass of Skald in the distance. Now it was a waiting game. Torstein had said the crossing was two weeks. That was about as long as the water supply would last. If they did not sight land, they would be helpless. The captain would be forced to ration the water before that, or risk everyone dying. It was a difficult situation to be in, especially when no one believed anything lay beyond Skald other than the endless ocean. How long would it be before the captain lost faith and turned the ship around. Or until the crew grew fed up and took control of the ship. It was a dangerous game before they even started.

The seas remained calm for the first week. Everyone was already used to spending this long at sea without sight of any land, so morale was still high. The wind remained in their favour and the captain seemed pleased with their progress. A few more days passed and dark clouds began to gather on the horizon ahead of them. The crew seemed a little nervy at this but nothing more than a mutter here and there, certainly nothing to be worried about. As the end of the second week drew closer, Nathaniel became increasingly worried. There was no sight of land nor the customary sea birds which were the early indicator of land ahead. The clouds grew blacker day by day and the winds soon began to pick up, forcing them off course towards the north and no doubt elongating the crossing.

On the sixth day of the second week the winds grew so fierce a large hole was torn in the sail. It was a precarious operation to get the sail repaired. It had to be hauled down, the hole sewn shut, and then the sail replaced on its boom. By the time it was back up, the clouds had turned the day into almost night. The waves had grown so large, it was as if the ship was rolling into a deep valley of water. With a sudden flash, lighting struck the sea ahead of the ship's bow and rain began to plummet down. Nathaniel was instantly soaked from head to foot and the deck became perilously slippery. Another bolt of lightning flashed nearby and the winds whipped the water off the wave crests. The ship peaked over a wave then rushed down into the next valley. The bow crashed into the water, completely submerging and washing seawater across the whole upper deck.

The storm raged on as the ship was tossed around the towering waves, everyone clinging on for dear life. Everytime the bow hit the waves the ship took on water, which washed down into the captives below. Nathaniel could not say how much water they had taken on, but the lower decks would soon be submerged with the helpless slaves stuck down there. There was nothing he could do and there was nowhere for them to go. Rain continued to pour down and the harsh winds blew it straight into their faces. It was impossible to hear anyone around them even if they shouted at the tops of their lungs. The rain and sea were icy cold and each wave that washed across the deck tugged at them, willing them to let go and be taken to a watery death overboard. It was exhausting just clinging to the ship, hoping the next wave wouldn't be the one to tip it over and take them all down. Nathaniel could feel his strength diminish with every minute and the cold and wet bit into his straining muscles. He managed to find some rope, which he used to lash himself down to the ship and give his arms some rest.

Come sunrise the waters had settled and the skies cleared, but none of them had any clue where they were or how far off course they had been blown by the storm. Nathaniel woke stiff, cold and shivering, still tied to the ship where he must have fallen asleep from exhaustion. Bortak was still alive too, stood at the ship's wheel and pointing them back on an easterly heading. Nathaniel untied himself and went in search of his friends. Mutt stood at the mast, his tree-like arms and legs tightly wrapped around it and his head pressed into the wood, yet fast asleep. He woke with a start when Nathaniel approached but instantly calmed at the sight of his friend. Next he went in search of Grolt, who he had last seen below decks. Hopefully the dwarf had found somewhere safe and secure to ride out the storm.

His search ended when the dwarf emerged from below decks, clearly looking for Nathaniel. His face lit up when their eyes met and they nodded reassuringly to each other. Content that his companions were safe, he approached Bortak to inquire about their position. For the first time since they had first left Yarbok port, he had no clue where they were. It did not bring Nathaniel any hope and Bortak seemed much more subdued than he had ever seen him. A moment later the crew started to appear out of the hatches, carrying sodden corpses from below. As Nathaniel had guessed, the lower slave quarters had been flooded by the storm and these were the casualties. Nathaniel could not bring himself to go below and witness the scene for himself.