Falconer's Quest by T. Davis Bunn Read Free Book Online Page B

sailor’s clenched hands.
    The waves were often hidden behind the lashing rain, but when an incoming peak was spotted, he and the sailor fought to turn the ship slightly upwind. They could not face the wave directly head-on. They had to steer just off the windward quarter to keep the sails full. Otherwise, they would lose steering and the ship could founder. They nosed the ship into the wave, braced themselves against the shuddering wash of water that spewed over the gunnels, then steered the ship back a notch. Shifting the wheel that fraction of a degree took so much effort the sailor and Falconer groaned with one voice.
    The rain came in a sideways wall. The wind strengthened further still and tore the tops off the waves, such that there was no longer any separation between the sea and the storm. Falconer found it impossible to breathe unless he shifted his face away from the full brunt of the blasts. He timed his turns so that either he or the sailor was always facing forward.
    One instant the rain was pelting them, the next it had lifted like a curtain and the ship’s surface was covered in gray spume blown off the waves. A crewman slipped on the froth and tumbled over the railing. He would have been lost to the sea and the storm except for the lifeline tied to his middle. He clutched the rope and screamed his fear as his mates dragged him back on board.
    Whenever their vision somewhat cleared, Falconer and the sailor took aim for the next wave. They now faced a watery mountain the color of a gravestone. They rose and rose, tipped upon the peak, then slid down into the cavernous depths. From beneath his feet Falconer heard the shrieks and wails of the passengers trapped belowdecks. Falconer took time for a single anguished prayer for his boy. Then he recalled his instructions to the sailor and shouted aloud to the wind and the thunder and the storm’s ceaseless roar. Stout heart . Nothing less would serve them now.
    The top of the next wave looked higher than the masts. It broke and sent a massive wall of water tumbling down at them. Falconer and the seaman shouted as one, fighting the sea and the ship both as they met the white water head-on. The ship’s deck was completely awash, and for an instant Falconer feared they were lost. But the ship proved stronger than the wave. The nose punched through with stubborn ferocity, clambering up the maelstrom. The ship hung at the peak for a heart-stopping moment, shook off the load of white water, and slid down into the next trough.
    Falconer and the seaman gave a wordless cheer. Certainly the crashing storm was not over. Yet Falconer sensed a first hope that they might indeed survive.
    Another curtain of rain swept in, and their world shrank down to the next liquid face, the next blast of wind, the next turn of the wheel.
    The lieutenant used his lifeline as a guide rope and pulled himself across the deck. He checked each of the hatches in turn, ensuring that they remained watertight. When he arrived at the wheel, the incoming wave almost tossed him over the side. Falconer released one hand from the wheel, wrapped the lifeline around his forearm, and held grimly on until the lieutenant found his footing again.
    “Much obliged, sir!” Bivens was obviously frightened, as were they all. Yet he maintained a wry smile for the crew. “She’s a grand vessel, is she not?” he said as he moved to the next checkpoint.
    Falconer found himself liking the man immensely, respecting his ability to remain stable and somewhat cheerful in the face of this blow. “Not one in a hundred would have survived that last surge!”
    “I was there in Nantucket when they laid her keel,” the lieutenant shouted from across the deck. He had to stop then and wait as they crested the next rise and slid down into the enormous valley. “The shipwright claimed she was a singular vessel. I must remember to thank—”
    The lieutenant never completed his sentence. From overhead came a resounding crack,