A Tale That Dawned [Book 4 of Selvina's Tale series]

Chapter 25: Taking the Wheel

Red climbed over the ship's side and dropped to the planks, rolling over on her back and gazing to the sky, breathing heavily. Her body ached, her arms were limp, and her lungs burned. She could smell the stench of battle on the ship and hearing the wailing of the injured crewmen, as well as the weeping of those mourning the lost ones. Despite being victorious in chasing off the slavers, many innocent Avalonians had died and several ships had been captured as well.

A face appeared in her field of view, blocking the cloudy sky. Her brother Robin offered her a concerned gaze and a sigh of relief. "I am glad you're all right, Scarlet," he said.

Red inhaled deeply and sat up, wincing in pain from the many cuts and bruises she had received. One of her crossbows had broken and she was certain several of her ribs were bruised, if not cracked, after a desperate slaver had swung a broken pulley block at her. She gazed around, realizing only now how many of the sailors had died.

Bigbad was climbing over the top, clamping down on a thick rope as Lancelot and a few crewmen hauled him up. She noticed a few extra cuts on his body but was forever grateful at his endurance and toughness. Her truest friend would not hesitate leaping into the Abyss itself if she asked it of him.

Red looked up at her brother, noticing the longbow in his hand. During the battle on the brig he had launched several life-saving arrows from an impossible distance that had struck true in the nick of time. "Thank you for your help," she said as she took his offered hand and slowly rose to her feet. "That huge brute nearly had me."

Robin gave her a wink and a small smile. "A well placed arrow will drop anyone, dwarf or giant." As Bigbad and Lancelot approached, he then added, with a drop in tone, "Unfortunately, we find ourselves in a difficult situation."

"Aye," Lancelot said, overhearing him. "We may have fought off the damned slavers but we're floating in place with no way of going forward."

Red glanced about, furrowing her brow in confusion. "What do you mean? The ship seems mostly intact."

"That it is," Lancelot continued, his long black hair tossing about in the wind, "but the captain was wounded in battle and all his officers are dead. Those slavers may be gone but no one on this ship has the knowhow to get us moving again." He gestured to the distant remaining vessels of their scattered fleet. "As you can see, none of the other ships wish to remain here and are offering us no help. We are flying the distress flag but of those few that can, none are coming. We're stuck here and I'm no ship captain. I imagine it's a little more than opening sails and hoping for the best."

"None of the other captains are coming to help?" Red asked in disbelief. "Are they not Avalonians like yourself? Do they not know you're on this ship? Isn't Sir Gawaine on one of them?"

"He is but his ship is damaged." He turned and pointed to the west where a listing ship floated many hundreds of yards away, its sails blackened as if severely burned. "He needs help as well but no one is stopping. All these captains are fleeing and without men with any sailing knowledge, we're as good as stranded."

Robin sighed again. "We can possibly manage to get the ship moving but those slavers might return if they see us sailing too slowly."

"Let them try," Red snarled.

"We'd be vastly outnumbered, Red," Robin warned. "I only have so many arrows and you can barely stand straight."

Defying him, Red straightened herself, struggling not to wince in pain. She eyed a ship to the north, sailing away with all haste, and frowned. There were a few damaged ships floating in place, she discovered, all of them flying their distress flags. No one stopped for them, though. "Those cowards! How can they leave their countrymen like that?"