Chapter 5 Part 3

The wind was beating against the rigging of the ship with a punishing force. It was to Armegon no real surprise when he heard the creaking of strained timbers coming from the main mast. The first mate tried to reinforce the mast by tethering extra lines against the wind, but the storm made movement almost impossible. Twice the first mate was swept into the air only to be saved by his grip on the ropes.

With the helm lashed secure, Armegon tried to help the first mate. "Should I get help from the crew?" Armegon had to shout to be heard above the storm even though they stood less than an arm's length apart.

"No. No time. If we wuz still broadside," he screamed into the howling wind, "we be capsized by now." Gronak pointed to where the mast was secured to the deck. "Nails and pegs don do inna blow like this. We is gonna losa this mast, an when it goes it's gonna rip the ship 'part."

"I have an idea," Armegon yelled and worked his way to the crew hatch. Several hands helped him inside out of the storm.

Once inside he made his way over to where Marlena and Avery were washing clothes. "Marlena, the wood securing the mast is giving way. Is there anything you can do to strengthen it?"

"Yes," she replied, "it is a simple incantation." She rose to follow Armegon back out on the deck when a sharp pain in her side made her sink back to the deck with a groan that rose above the sound of the whipping gale outside.

Avery was immediately at her side. He placed his hand on her side and frowned. "Too much excitement," he announced apprehensively. "She is going into labor. Armegon, get me some clean cloth and some water."

"No," Armegon replied as he knelt down next to Marlena. "You are needed outside. You must mend the mast. You are the only other person with woodland magic. I'll care for her."

Marlena winced and grabbed Avery's hand. "You can do it," she encouraged him. "You have learned the magic well. Use oak and mistletoe. It will strengthen the wood as well as mend it."

Avery paused, glancing first at Armegon and then Marlena. He was about to say something but Armegon cut him off. "The sooner you get done out there the sooner you can help me. Gronak says that if that mast shears it will break up the ship. Even under the best conditions, she would not survive birth in a storm like this unprotected. Now, go!"

Avery sprinted to the door. With a speedy glance back, he went out into the storm.

"Relax woman, you are not the first to labor prematurely and you will not be the last." Armegon was not known for his bedside manners.

"You forget," Marlena said through clenched teeth, "druids are healers also. I know the child has not turned." She squeezed Armegon's arm until her nails drew blood. When the spasm passed, she grabbed his hand. "Cut it free now while I am sane enough to help."

"I thought to postpone the process long enough for Avery to return. He may be able to turn the baby." Armegon sounded genuinely worried. Few women wanted to have a child cut from them while they were conscious.

"He is too busy," she said as another contraction rocked her body. "What will have been a simple spell for me will take a great deal out of him. He is an excellent student of nature, but he is not a master of it."

Armegon watched her suffer another contraction. He noticed that the other crew members were giving him plenty of room. No one wanted to see the innards of anyone else. Drawing his dagger, Armegon prepared to do the deed.

Avery was buffeted by the winds of the storm. He had been caught in hurricanes before and this was not unlike those terrible storms. He saw Gronak struggling with the lines and heard the creaking of the timbers as he made his way to the main mast.

"Wot you adoin ere," the first mate yelled. He strained on the cable against the wind the powerful muscles he inherited from his sire far exceeded that of the normal sailor.

Avery wasted no time with words. He hugged the base of the mast with one arm and took some mistletoe from his belt pouch with the other hand. The spell he had chosen came fluidly into his thoughts and he worked the magic quickly. He entwined the mistletoe with the oak leaf he had taken from his pouch. Then he rubbed the component against the mast's base where splinters were beginning to show. The mistletoe seemed to melt and flow into the wood like water pulling the oak with it. Then the wood itself flowed and reworked itself like clay. In moments, the mast stood tall and strong.

Avery started to rise, but felt a weakness in his knees. True druids were channels for the power of nature. Because Avery was a ranger, not a druid, the magic he used was powered by his own life force just like his healing power. After such a drain, he was exhausted. He knew he needed rest, but the thought of one of his patients in need of a healer brought him back to his feet.

"That wuz good magic you done there, 'alfelf," the first mate said. "I thinks the ol' goil will hol t'gether." He patted the mast as he walked aft toward the helm. "If'n you wants a per'nant job, I can arrange one."

Avery waved and began to make his way back to the hold. Suddenly, the wind changed direction sharply. The ship lurched sideways and Avery was tossed up into the air like a toy doll. Head over heels, he spun until a flailing hand locked onto the ship's side railing.

Avery saw that he was hanging on by one hand to the ship but the rest of his body was fluttering like a pennant in the breeze over an ocean of glass. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the reason for the sudden change in weather.

Like the dark finger of an unseen god, the funnel had touched down less than half a kilometer off the port side. The tornado's power was too much to withstand. As the fatigue came over his aching hand, his grip slipped and Avery went sailing into the darkness. The last thing he saw before he lost sight of the ship was the first mate struggling at the helm to keep the ship upright.