Chapter 13-369: Heart of a Sailor (2/2)

The screen blurred and shifted, and showed another room now, seemingly made of carved stone, although brightly lit, and a dozen men no longer young seated there on seats and benches of stone.

He blinked at them. They all looked so familiar...

“CAPTAIN MACDONNELL!” they all burst out cheering at the same moment, as he gaped at them. It couldn’t be... that couldn’t be...

His jaw dropped his eyes turned to the Cleric beaming next to him, and then the middle-aged, no longer young sailor, just a deck hand, calling out and waving to the screen.

His old eyes went from one weathered face to the next, subtracting years and times of trial, and his breath caught in his throat.

A strong hand grasped him to steady him, a surge of divine warmth flowing through his body as he reached out his other shaking hand towards the screen.

“Lads? Lads, is that you?” he had to ask in a whisper of disbelief.

“Captain!” his first mate, Nigel Brown, shouted, waving everyone else down. “When you went back into the waterspout, we were sure we’d seen the last of you, especially when help never came! When we were told you’d been found alive, with no memory of what happened to the old Lass, they told us there’s some sort of memory wipe effect on normal folks traveling between the inner and outer worlds here!

“We lost Rory, Weathers, and Green, but the rest of us have made it here! Captain, it’s so good to see you made it!”

His hand was shaking too hard, and tears he’d thought he’d left to dry in bitterness and regret were coursing down his cheeks. “Lads, lads, I don’t remember anything!...” he burst out uncontrollably, his chest starting to shake.

“Aye, sir, but there’s someone who’ll take care of all of that now,” Justice McDuff said soothingly, patting the old man’s arm, and turned to look around as she rose from beyond the edge of the cliff right before the two of them.

Captain MacDonnel gaped at the woman with white in black eyes, moon-lit raven hair, atop that twin-flaming not-a-horse. He couldn’t fail to recognize her... like as not, the whole world knew who she was now.

“Lady Traveler,” he said hoarsely, absolutely certain he’d never seen anyone so regal and mighty in all his years, despite her seeming youth. This was a true noble woman, born to be a queen... no, an empress!

“Captain Finnach MacDonnel, as true a sailor as has ever sailed upon these seas, taking upon himself a suicide mission to save his crew from the lands of the Hollow World.” Her voice carried with supernatural clarity and vigor, piercing into his soul. “Your courage will be known across the seven seas, sir! And, I think, it is time for you to remember it, too!”

The softness of her voice whispered through his mind, and something, something dark and subtle as a shadow, flowed away like a cloud yielding before the moon, and he remembered...

The storm. The damned maelstrom, swallowing his ship. Three of the crew he’d lost to the waves and winds, but luck and skill had brought them to anchor in impossibly shallow waters before the Muggy Lass could run a-reef.

There had been survivors, the wrecks of the other ships, and the strange peoples and creatures of that land. Two more of the crew lost to beasts and raiders, but the Lass still floated, and they all knew that there was a chance that if they could come down through the maelstrom, there was the chance they could leave, and that was his chance to take.

When the storm had started, the Lass had been readied, but he’d brought no other of the crew along, only needing them to fire her up. They’d be close to shore and stations if the ship made it out, but he’d not risk their lives in a fool’s errand most likely to end up on the ocean’s floor.

When the waterspout had come down, along with whatever vessel might be drawn into it, he had gone for it with full turbines, and piloted his old freighter into the jaws of the tornado.

The wrenching winds, the protest of steel, and the howl of the water as the storm took her. He had tried to keep a course, but the current had the ship, and he could only try to go up and up, when he couldn’t even see beyond the bow of his ship, or see where gravity had gone...

And then the waters had crashed through the windows of his ship’s cabin as if alive, and he remembered no more until he awoke in the ward of the hospital in Bermuda.

He’d made it, yet forgotten everything he’d attempted the journey to accomplish. The sourness in his mouth warred with the joy in his heart, and he had to close his eyes and shudder at the emotions literally long-lost, now returned to him.

He wasn’t a captain who had lost his ship and crew and survived, the very picture of naval disgrace. Aye, the Lass was gone, but she’d done her task, and delivered him back to the world... only he’d been weak, and something had taken from him his mission!

His men had suffered, as he had suffered, because nobody knew...

“Godspeed, Captain,” the Lady Traveler saluted him, and for the first time in long years, Captain Finnach MacDonnel rose to his full height, as straight as he could, proudly, and saluted her back.

Her next words floored him. “Would you like to see them in person, Captain?” she asked him, holding out her hand.

His jaw dropped, and he looked at Justice McDuff, who grinned as two Disks materialized next to the Lady Traveler. The Priest flipped the computer closed, stored it swiftly away, and stepped forward with the old sailor onto the Disks, joining him to go off and meet his brother.

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In the Power of Ten, the Good Patrons of Sailors are Harse and Sylune. Sylune is the Patron of exploration and navigation, naturally enough, while Harse makes it His task to ensure that the sailors have a safe port to return to, and they do not die unremembered. Niord, as master of the sea, naturally also gets veneration and respect, but Harse and Sylune care for the sailors, Niord loves the sea, and Trose favors the ship and cargo.

Sylune sends them off, and Harse welcomes them home, be they living or dead.