I spat blood and bits of wood, dragged open the hatch. If I could get down to that first deck, I could unlatch the big hatch in the side of the ship, the one above the water-line which, when opened, dropped down onto land to form a ramp. Which is how we'd gotten the stud on board in the first place. Cloth over his head had made him a bit more amenable, and I'd managed to lead him up the ramp and into the ship's upper cargo hold. Ropes had formed a fragile 'pen,' layers of straw bedded him down. A cask of water was tied to a timber, and I personally doled out the stores of grass and grain. After two weeks he'd actually gotten pretty good about only kicking and biting occasionally.
'Don't go down!' Del shouted. 'Tiger-you've got to get off this ship now, tie yourself to something-'
We weren't all that far from the island. Del likely could swim it, so long as she wasn't injured by the ship's breaking up. So could the stud-but not if he was tied. And I'd tied him well, too: a stiff new halter, a twist of thin knotted rope around his muzzle for behavior insurance, and two sturdy lengths of thick rope cross-tying him to two different timbers. He wasn't going anywhere… which had been the whole idea at first, but now wasn't quite the desired end. Or it would be his end.
I slipped and slithered my way down the ladder, uncomfortably aware that water was pouring in from every direction. I heard shouts, screams, and prayers as the sailors were trapped, crushed, impaled, or swept out through gaping holes. It was pretty amazing how quickly a ship can break itself to bits.
And a body, too, come to that.
'Tiger-'
I glanced back, shook wet hair out of my eyes; saw Del coming down the ladder. 'Get out of here!' I shouted. 'Go on-I'll bring the stud out…' I spat blood again. 'You can swim… get out into the water-'
'You'll drown!' she shouted back. 'Or else he'll kill you trying to break free!'
Water gushed against my knees. Over the screaming of the crew, the roar of the water, the dangerous death-song of a shattered ship, I heard the panicked beat of hooves against wet wood and the squealing of a frightened stallion. I slipped, was swept aside, caught something and pulled myself back up.
'Go!' I shouted at Del.
But she has her share of stubbornness and nothing I said could make her go where she didn't intend to go. For the moment it appeared she didn't intend to leave me. Fair enough. I wasn't about to leave the stud. He might yet die, but by any god you care to name he wasn't going to die tied up and helpless.
By now the ship was in pieces. There was no storm: blue sky and sunlight illuminated the remains uncompromisingly, so that I could see where our portion of the ship began and left off. Abruptly. A stiff wind shifted the wreckage against the reefs, pushing pieces of it toward the island, pieces of it out to sea. Larger portions remained hung up on the reefs. Ours was one. If it stayed steady long enough for me to reach the stud, to untie or cut the knots he'd undoubtedly jerked into iron-
I went down as the ship shifted, creaking and scraping against the reef. I heard Del's shout, the stud's scream. I clawed my way up again, spitting water, shaking soaked hair out of my eyes. Something bobbed against my knees, threatening balance again; I shoved the body away, cursing, and made my laborious way through rising water toward the thrashing stud.
He quivered as I got a hand on him, felt the heat of his flesh beneath the layer of lather. He was terrified. The knots, as expected, were impossible, and I had neither knife nor sword.
'Hold on,' I muttered, 'Give me a chance-' – The ship heeled over. What had been above the water-line now was not.
I came up coughing and hacking, one hand locked into the stud's floppy, upstanding mane; like me, he needed his hair cut. I hung on with that hand; with the other I reached over his muzzle and up between his ears, grabbing the headstall. 'Don't fight me-'
But of course he did, which made it all the harder, and to this day I still don't know how I managed to jerk the halter over both ears. Once that was done, though, the rest came away easily. I peeled the knotted noseband off and tossed the halter, still cross-tied, aside. There was only one thing for it now.
Thigh-deep water makes it tough to swing up, so I didn't even try. I just grabbed bristly hanks of mane and scrambled up as best I could, flinging a leg across his spine. He quivered and trembled beneath me, fighting the rising water, the enclosure, the stink of fear and death.
'-out-' I gasped, pulling myself upright. I slammed heels into his ribs, felt him leap and scrabble against the pull of the water. I bent low over his neck as he fought for balance and freedom, trying to save my head a battering. '-out '-
But out wasn't easy. And as he crashed his way through the shattered timbers and boards, I prayed with everything I had that nothing would spear him from beneath. He was loose, now; all we had to do was get clear of the wreckage, get off the reef, and head toward the island.
Even as I lay against him, I looked back toward the ladder. Back where Del had been.
Had been.
Oh, bascha . ..
'Del– '
The stud swam his way free of his prison as it scraped off the reef and sank. He scrabbled against the reef, grunting with effort. I had images of his forelegs stripped of flesh, tendons sliced-
'Del-?'
Where in hoolies was she-?
The reef was treacherous. I felt the stud falter beneath me, slipping and sliding. Felt him go down, felt the fire bloom in my own leg. I came off sideways, but did not let go of mane even as I fought for footing in the pockets and gullies of the reef. Sandals were stripped off entirely.
'-up-' I urged, trying to suit words to action myself. If we could get free of the reef, back into open water-'Go –' I gasped. 'Go on, you flea-bitten, lop-eared-' I spat out a mouthful of saltwater, sucked in air, '-jug- headed, thice-cursed son of a Salset goat-' I used the reef, tried to launch and jerk myself up onto his back again. Made it partway … and then he lurched sideways, hooves slipping, scrabbling; something banged me in the head, graying out my vision. More flesh came off against reef. And then he was free at last, lunging off treacherous footing into water again, swimming unencumbered, save for me. But if I let go-
Never mind.
I kicked as best I could, trying to hold up my own weight even as he dragged me. He swam strongly, nose thrust up into the air. A hoof bashed my knee, scraped off skin. I got my head above water long enough to gulp breath.
'If I live through this,' I told him. 'I'm either never going on board a ship again'-hoolies, there went the other knee-'or else I'm going to learn how to swim-'
But for the moment, luckily, he swam for both of us.
I twisted, peering in snatches over my shoulder, looking for Delilah. My immediate horizon was transient at best: I saw a lot of slapping waves, the looming hulks of unidentifiable pieces of ship, floating casks, chunks of wood bound with rope. And a blue-sailed ship beyond, swooping in now like a desert hawk.
It crossed my mind, even as I hung on with all my strength to a panicked stud-horse, that the renegadas could not have meant the ship to break up so definitively. I could see the intent: to run us hard aground, then come in for the kill. But surely it was next to impossible to find any of the supposed goods they were after, now that the ship was in pieces.
Then again, maybe they hadn't intended the ship to break up quite so-dramatically. Or at all. Could be they meant to trap her, and were as startled as any of us by her quick demise.
I heard shouting. Couldn't say if it came from members of our ship's crew, or the renegadas. All I knew was I'd swallowed a gut-load of saltwater and had left a strip or two of skin on the reef. But I was alive, and so long as I didn't lose the stud I'd stay that way. So long as he made it to land, that is.
The next moment I wasn't so sure he would, or I would. His hooves struck something substantial, and he floundered. One hand slipped out of his short mane as he jerked and flung his head, seeking balance; my feet banged on something hard and rough. My turn to fight for balance. There was land under us, or reef, or something. Enough for the stud to plant all four hooves, and for me to slip and slide and eventually lose footing and handholds.
Before I could blurt out a word, before I could get my feet under me, the stud lurched off whatever we stood on. He was in the water again, swimming as strongly as before. Beyond him I saw a rim of land, a line of
