them. What had been a refuge now seemed a prison.
'We'll just have to get out into the open sea,' he told himself. 'I can do that much.' He licked his finger and held it up, but felt only the faintest touch of a breeze. Fortunately it was blowing down from the cliffs and out to sea. They had been mightily lucky to throw down the anchor when they did, for the ship would have been mashed against the cliff had it sailed much further.
He couldn't make up his mind whether to hoist the sail first, or the anchor. At last he decided that if the sail was up, the ship might move towards the open sea once the anchor let it.
He managed both, but was panting by the time he reached the cockpit and took the tiller bar in his hands.
'I've hoisted the sail, Kasia, and the anchor, though I could blow and get more use of the sail.'
She murmured something that sounded encouraging and, sure enough, the little ship slowly eased forward and passed the sheltering arm of the cove. The sea was almost too calm when he saw its vast expanse. Once the ship was clear of the shelter, though, the breeze picked up and the sail filled.
'Right or left, Kasia? I've no idea where we are.'
'Starboard ... right, Rob. Go right.' He had to ask her three times to repeat her instructions more loudly so that he could hear her weakened voice clearly.
'I'm shrieking nowwwww,' she protested, and her face came into his range of vision as she lifted herself off the bunk.
That was better, he thought, than lying there like a cut of wool.
'Right,' he roared back at her. 'I'm going right. Starboard.' And almost immediately he had to correct the ship as he saw the jagged reef he had been about to sail into. Panic gripped him, and he struggled to keep his bowels from loosening.
'Stupid dimwit,' he admonished himself. 'Watch where you're going.'
When he judged they were well enough past the rocks, he changed his seat and threw the tiller over to port – he remembered that much of Captain Gostol's afternoon lesson. And then he grabbed for the sheet to keep the wind in the sail.
The speed of the sloop picked up, and he rather enjoyed the pull of sheet and tiller in his hand. At least he was doing something.
It was midday, to judge by the sun's position, and the high cliffs along which the ship sailed were totally unfamiliar to him.
'We've got nothing but cliffs, Kasia. Where could we be?' He saw her raise herself up and shake her head. 'Keep on.'
So he did, until the pleasure left the occupation and fatigue began to run along both arms as the sun dropped slowly in the awesomely vast western sea. The cliffs continued unbroken. Had they found refuge in the one cove along this entire coast? Would they find another one for tonight? He doubted he could stand a longer watch. And he ought to eat something, and be sure that Kasia did too.
'What do I do, Kasia? What do I do?'
'Sail on,' she cried back at him.
The sea was calm as night fell, and the breeze died also. So, lashing the tiller as he'd once seen Captain Gostol do for a quick moment of relief, he clattered down into the cabin, startling Kasia awake.
'There's nothing but cliff,' he protested as he started the last of the charcoal. He'd have to feed her something. It had been hours since the last cup of soup and some hard crackers he'd found in the cupboard. He must have some klah to stay awake.
'It will have to give to beach soon then, Rob. I'm so sorry, love.
So very sorry.' And she wept piteously.
He comforted her while the water heated. 'You kept us afloat all during the storm and used up all your strength, my love. Don't cry.
Please don't cry. We can't have the furs all wet on you.'
His cajolery made her smile and sniff, and brash away her tears.
'But I can't do anything to help ...'
'That's all right. I'm fine. I just don't know what I'm doing.' He imbued the complaint with as much humour as he could. Then he left her with more soup, and took his and the klah up to the cockpit.
The night was clear and very cold. But the wind picked up, blowing almost steadily from the south – and that, he felt, was to their advantage. Surely, if they got close enough to Tillek, there'd be fishing ships out on a night like this. Or maybe even someone looking for them?
'No, you two got yourself into this. You can get yourself out of this,' he told himself firmly and dragged the bad-weather gear more tightly about his body, trying to keep warm. 'Got yourself in, get yourself out.' He turned the cadence into a chant, rocking from side to side, which eased the numbness in his buttocks. The chant went to his feet, and he stamped them in turn. And he sang and stamped and rocked and thumped the tiller bar with his hands, inventing new rhythms, and altogether enjoying the activity when he suddenly realized that something was coming out of the darkness ahead of him, large and white, and someone was yelling.
'Sloop ahoy!'
'Shards, what do I do now? Steer starboard, right, starboard!' he yelled at the white shape bearing down on him. As hard as he could, he pushed the tiller over and nearly clouted himself in the head as the boom swung past.
They were rescued by the schooner Wave Rider. Two sturdy fish-men lifted Kasia aboard to other willing hands. Robinton managed to climb the rope ladder, awkward with fatigue and stiff joints.
With the little sloop tied on behind, Wave Rider swung round and headed back to Tillek Hold, her mission complete. A glowbasket was hung from the top of the mast to let other ships know that the lost had been found.
The second mate, Lissala, who was also Captain Idarolan's wife, tended to Kasia while Idarolan did similar services for Robinton, remarking on how a mere harper had managed so well.
'Kasia told me what to do,' he protested between spoonfuls of a hearty fish stew, bobbing with root vegetables which had never tasted so good, and bread which had been fresh the day before when the search parties were organized to locate the missing and long-overdue sloop.
'Aye, Harper, but it was you doing it.'
'She'll be fine now,' Lissala said, returning and slipping into a seat opposite Robinton. 'Wise of you to be sure she drank so much.
No frostbite, but ...' She sharply looked at his discoloured fingers.
Startled, because without his hands he was nothing, he held them both out to her and felt the pinch she gave the tips. 'No, they're all right, but another coupla hours out in that' – she nodded her head to indicate the cold night – 'and it might've been different. But we've got you safe and snug aboard.' She reached round for a cup and poured klah, holding the pot up and looking enquiringly at Robinton, who shook his head.
'Where were we when you found us?' Robinton asked.
Idarolan chuckled, rubbing his chin. 'Halfway up the coast from Fort. You'd've done better to go to port. You weren't that far from a fish-hold.'
Robinton groaned, but then reminded himself that they'd had no idea at all where the storm had blown them.
'Kasia told me right, starboard,' he said, gesturing with the appropriate arm.
'Not to worry. We have you now.' Then, as Robinton could not suppress an immense yawn – one part relief, one part being warm, and the other total fatigue – Idarolan added, 'Come, man, I'll bed you down.'
'Where's Kasia?' Robinton asked, looking up and down the passageway.
'In there,' the captain said, indicating a door they were passing by. 'You're in here.' He opened another door across the way and slid the little glowbasket open. 'Take the lower bunk. Ellic's on this watch.'
Robinton wondered how long 'this watch' was before he'd have to leave the bunk, but as soon as he laid himself down, he lost hold of the question and never heard the answer.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Clostan went over both of them thoroughly. Kasia had recovered some of her normal colour and strength by the time they docked at Tillek, where relieved folk helped them on to the wharf and up to the Hold. Lissala supported Kasia on one side and Robinton on the other, though Robinton wanted to carry Kasia and spare
