She sighed with relief as she realised that this was going to be considerably easier than she had initially estimated. There was a quiet crack and a large piece of the strut disappeared down into the waves. Just a moment longer…
She almost lost the knife as the strut split with the last push, grabbing madly to retrieve it. The effect was more sudden and obvious than she’d expected. Though still attached by the rope, the lack of any solid support had allowed the rudder a great deal more leeway than before. With a crack, it slipped sideways as far as the restraints would allow.
The whole ship lurched and banked with the new direction of control and Asima was almost thrown from the ledge, the starboard side of the ship rising alarmingly. She heard shouts of alarm from above and knew she had only moments.
Flinging caution to the wind, she ran along the narrow ledge, trusting the new raised angle would push her further aboard rather than tipping her over. She reached the corner and flung herself around it, grasping the rail for safety just as the heads of the sailors above appeared at the upper edge, desperately trying to see what had happened to the rudder.
She grinned as she realised she had done it.
The ship would suffer badly in its manoeuvrability and would not be able to continue its journey across the open sea with the rudder floundering around. By her estimate it would take some serious work with ropes and all the strength of four men to keep the course steady enough to get anywhere to repair it. Ghassan would have no choice but to make for the nearest port which, according to the chart in her cabin, lay some three miles along the island’s coast from the eagle rock.
The rest should be easy. Once the Wind of God was in dock, she would have the easy task of slipping away into the small town. It would be Pelasian territory and there would be fishermen with sailing boats that could take her from island to island until she found herself on the mainland and away from Ghassan and his principles. Passage would be easy to buy with the riches she carried, as would the silence of anyone involved.
She would shortly return to Pelasia to plan her rise to prominence and Ghassan would have to head back to Calphoris and be disciplined for his failure. Unfortunate for him, but he must be used to failure by now and, besides, he shouldn’t have got in her way.
She…
Asima’s smile fell as she reached the end of the narrow ledge and turned the corner back toward her cabin and came face to face with a burly sailor.
Momentarily, she considered knifing him and tipping him overboard, but decided against it. Not only did he carry a heavy belaying pin that he may be able to hit her with first but also, if she attacked him and failed, she would compound her guilt in Ghassan’s eyes.
Whatever happened, they would still have to put in at the island and she would find a way to leave. Nothing had changed.
In which the reunion is completed
The young captain growled angrily and Asima merely shrugged.
“I could lie to you if it would make you feel any better, Ghassan. Perhaps I heard a dangerous crack from my cabin. Not wishing to disturb the poor, hard-working crew, I risked life and limb to make my way out to the source of the noise and try to help. I barely made it back with my skin intact when the thing gave way just as I approached.”
She smiled with the most unpleasant falseness she could muster, right down to the curl of a sneer on her lip.
“Does that make you feel better, captain?”
Ghassan stood and stared out of her cabin window. The sun had been up for a little more than an hour now. He had refused to order his men to carry out any work in the conditions last night, what with the darkness, slippery wood and the ship lurching every now and then. As soon as dawn had crested the horizon, though, he had sent three men down to the rudder to completely remove the damaged hinge mechanism and tie the pole tightly in place. The Wind of God bobbed on the calm sea, drifting as the current took it.
“What did you hope to achieve?”
Asima shrugged again.
“I have no wish to visit Velutio and I believe the word you’re looking for, Ghassan, is sabotage. You’ll have to put in at the nearest island and I will find a way to leave you whatever you do to contain me.”
Ghassan snarled at her.
“You stupid woman! You risked your life and ours because you are so damned spoiled that you will have your own way whatever the cost? Just how selfish have you become, Asima?”
She allowed her sneer to remain while the smile fell from her face.
“Your words mean nothing to me, Ghassan, because you mean nothing to me. I have been mere steps away from becoming one of the most powerful queens the world has ever seen and I will have that again, despite the interference of mindless soldiers.”
Ghassan laughed without a hint of humour.
“Well I’m afraid you’ve failed this time. I have no intention of putting to port. It will take the best part of a day for my chief carpenter and his men to work up a replacement and a matter of hours to fit it. By this time tomorrow we will be on our way once more.”
He turned and pointed angrily at her.
“In the meantime, you are restricted to your cabin. It will be locked from the outside and your window will be barred, even though I doubt you would fit through it. The only contact you will have with the crew is when Palas brings you your meals and you’ve never met a more straight-laced and unfriendly man than Palas. He will have none of your charm. Were it not for the fact that you are supposedly a noble guest and I am duty-bound to look after you, I would have you locked in one of the equipment rooms down below in the dark.”
He smiled his least humorous smile.
“And if there is the slightest hint of trouble from you for the rest of the voyage, I will be seriously tempted to tip you over the side in chains and tell the commodore that you leapt to your death. Do I make myself clear?”
Asima flashed him a haughty and disobedient look.
“Just leave me. Your stench will settle in the cabin for days otherwise.”
Ghassan let his glare linger on her for some time and then strode from the room, stopping at the door, removing the key and placing it in the outside. As he shut the door and locked it, he addressed the junior officer in the corridor beyond.
“The lady Asima is refused permission to leave her room. She will be brought three meals each day and once a day a boy will be sent in to replace her shit-bucket. Clear?”
The young man saluted with a nod and Ghassan strode angrily off down the corridor and out into the light. Eying the inactivity on the deck with frustration, he considered bellowing orders out to the lounging oarsmen to scrub decks or re-coil ropes. No use taking it out on them, though. They worked hard when needed and it was hardly their fault that his childhood friend had turned into a saboteur. What he’d really like to do was to cuff Asima round the ear and try to knock some sense of decency into her.
He turned, grumbling, and climbed the steps to the command deck. Half a dozen carpenters were at work near the rear rail, putting together a replacement mechanism for the rudder. He’d known it was on its way out, but it should have lasted the journey and Velutio had some of the most famous docks and shipwrights in the world. He would have easily replaced it within an hour at the capital.
Now, his men worked tirelessly to form a new one from bare chunks of wood with their saws, chisels and planes, but he knew his men and was quietly confident that the new item would be finished and in position before the end of the day, let alone tomorrow.
Calamon, the first officer, nodded at him from the other side of the deck.
“Captain.”
Ghassan strode over to join his second. Calamon was young for the position, much like his captain, but had previously served with distinction and had done an excellent job in the last few weeks on board. The tall, olive-complexioned man was a native of Germalla to the north and spoke with an accent that still occasionally caught Ghassan out and needed repeats.