Melcorka of Alba

Chapter Two

Chapter TwoThe islands lay weeks behind them, long sunk beneath the horizon so they were little more than a memory of lush trees, peaceful people and exotic fruit. All around was the sea, languid and flat. High above, the sun hammered down on Catriona, the single-masted vessel that had carried them from Alba across the Western Ocean and down the great rivers of the New World.

'There is not a whisper of wind.' Melcorka lay at the tiller, fanning her face with a broad-brimmed hat. 'No birds, not even an insect. It is as if God has forgotten to put life into this part of His world.' Standing up, she shouted and the sound of her voice was lost in the vast abyss that surrounded them. 'Nothing!'

'It's hot.' Bradan pulled on the oars, looked up at the sail that hung limp and useless, and pulled again.

'It is.' Leaving the tiller, Melcorka slumped onto her rowing bench and pulled at her oar. 'Are we making any progress?'

'It's hard to tell in this ocean.' Bradan swept the perspiration from his forehead. 'How long is it since we last saw land? Three weeks? Four?'

'Three weeks,' Melcorka said. 'Three weeks and three days. It's at times like this that I could long for a good, old-fashioned Alban gale, with bitter, cold rain and a wind that bends the mast.'

Bradan grunted. 'I'll remind you of that when the weather breaks.' He gave a sour grin and pulled again. Catriona slid another few feet through the water, without changing anything. The blue sea merged with the blue sky somewhere on the indeterminate blue horizon.

'How is the drinking water?' Bradan asked.

Melcorka lifted one of their water containers and looked inside. 'Turning green and slimy,' she said. 'I think there are things living in there.'

'Fresh meat,' Bradan said, pulling at the oars again. 'Check the fishing lines, Mel.'

'Nothing,' Melcorka said. 'Even the fish have deserted us.' Her laugh had an edge that Bradan did not like. 'I'll be killing and eating you, soon!'

'That's not funny, Mel.' Bradan rested on his oars. 'You've not been the same since that battle with the Kalingos. Maybe there was something in the kanaima's curse.'

'I killed the kanaima,' Melcorka reminded him. 'I cut off her head.' She made a slicing motion with her right hand. 'Chop! Like that.'

'That's not like you, either, Mel, exulting in killing.' Bradan began to row again. 'I'll be glad to get you to land and back to normal.'

Returning to the tiller, Melcorka suddenly stood up. 'What's that ahead?' She pointed with her chin. 'The sea's changing colour. It's a browny-yellow.'

'I've never seen a sea like that before.' Bradan stared over his shoulder, resting on his oars. 'A yellow sea! Well, Mel, we travel to see new things.'

'It's not the sea that's yellow,' Melcorka said. 'There is vegetation on the surface.'

'The sea is growing plants?' Bradan shook his head. 'Truly, this world is full of marvels, unless it is only seaweed, of course.'

'I'd rather there was a breath of wind than a sea of weed.' Melcorka slumped back at the oars and pulled hard. 'Our lack of progress is terribly frustrating.'

'This is a big ocean,' Bradan said. 'We might be rowing for weeks and travel hundreds of miles and still be only a fraction of the way across.' He pointed to the sun. 'At least we are heading north and east, though. We are heading home.'

'Very slowly,' Melcorka said. 'I would give my arm for a slant of air, something to fill the sail and send us faster over the sea.'

Bradan grunted. 'The old sailor men have a method of calling the wind.'

'What was that, Bradan? What magic trick do they perform?' Melcorka grinned across to him. 'Do they sacrifice one of the crew to the sea-gods? Perhaps a long-faced, staff-carrying man?'

'Nothing as dramatic,' Bradan said. 'They stick a knife into the mast and whistle.'

'Oh?' Melcorka looked a little disappointed. 'Well then, if a knife and a whistle can call the wind, we shall try Defender.'

'No.' Bradan shook his head. 'If a knife can whistle up the wind, imagine what Defender could summon!'

Despite their apparent lack of progress, Catriona had inched closer to the browny-yellow sea. As Melcorka had said, it was a plant, but unlike any they had seen before.

'That stuff is moving toward us,' Melcorka said.

'Plants can't move.' Bradan pulled at the oars again. 'Unless the wind shifts them, and we have no wind.'

'This plant does not know it cannot move,' Melcorka said. 'It's reaching out for Catriona.'

Melcorka was correct. Even as Bradan watched, the vegetation was easing toward Catriona, with one tendril creeping up the prow and crawling along the short foredeck.

'I've never seen anything like that before,' Bradan said.

'Nor have I.' Stepping over Bradan, Melcorka unsheathed the dirk from underneath her arm and sliced at the stem of the plant. 'It's tough,' she called. 'Look at that!' The plant had begun to crawl up her arm. 'It's also fast!' She cut harder, lifted a length of the growth and threw it over the side.

'It's at the stern, too.' Bradan hit out with an oar. 'It's grabbing at my oars.'

'It's everywhere,' Melcorka said. 'It's all around us.'

'Time to get out of this patch of sea.' Bradan pulled hard at the oars, only to swear as the weed wrapped itself around the blades. 'Get away!' He hauled one oar free, just as more tendrils of the brown-yellow plant crawled on board.

'Enough of this!' Melcorka replaced her dirk, drew Defender and sliced at the ever-increasing number of plants that climbed onto Catriona. As fast as she hacked, more of the browny-yellow growth arrived.

'Bradan!' Melcorka threw him her dirk. 'Cut us free!'

Even with two of them hacking as fast as they could, the plants continued to advance, crawling up the hull and sending long, yellow-brown tendrils towards Bradan and Melcorka.

'What were you saying about Defender calling up the wind?' Melcorka asked. 'It seems like a good idea.'

Bradan sawed through a plant that began to explore his ankle. 'Be careful, Mel!' He held up a hand as Melcorka rammed Defender into Catriona's single pine mast. 'A weapon like that might summon more than we can handle!'

'Nonsense!' Melcorka said. 'We can't handle these plants. Anyway, it's only superstition and the more wind we have, the better! Give me my dirk!' She chopped at a tendril that was curling around the mast. 'It's not working. Is there anything else I have to do?'

'Whistle!' Bradan said, as the air remained still and the growth spread across Catriona. 'Whistle as though your soul depended on it.'

'Whistle?' Melcorka sliced through a plant that was coiling up her leg. 'I can't whistle.'

'Try!' Bradan tried to rip at a stem that curled around the tiller. 'These things are worse than the Kalinga.'

For a second, Melcorka looked over the side of Catriona into the yellow-brown mass that seethed across the sea around them. A ship-length to starboard, she saw the vegetation form the likeness of a human face, and the poisonous eyes of Kanaima were watching her.

'You're dead!' Melcorka said, so quietly that Bradan could not hear. Pursing her lips, she whistled as loudly as she could.

Bradan cringed. 'You may be the greatest warrior in the world, Mel, but you cannot hold a tune in your head, can you? That's a terrible noise you are making.'

'Then join me, Bradan! Make sweet music to call the wind.' Melcorka looked again, but Kanaima's face was gone. All she could see was plant-life covering the ocean and gradually smothering Catriona.

Bradan increased the volume of his whistling. He doubted it would help, but anything was better than not trying at all. The yellow-tinged sea stretched forever in all directions except upward, where the brassy sun powered down on them. Unless they found land soon, the plants would overcome them, or they would die of thirst in this pulsating yellow-brown expanse. Pushing out his lips, Bradan blew tunelessly.

'That's worse than me,' Melcorka said. 'It's like an old crow rasping on a rusty farm gate.'

Stung by her words, Bradan moistened his lips with a mouthful of their precious water and tried again.

'That's better.' Melcorka continued to hack at the invading plants. 'Now you are whistling like a king. You could charm the birds from the trees if there were any birds around here, or any trees…'

No sooner had Melcorka spoken than the sea altered. A deep swell began to move the plants, so they rose and fell like yellow waves.

'Something's happening.' Bradan wrestled an oar free of the crawling plants. 'It's working!'

The swell rose, carrying Catriona up and down as if she were a cork. One minute she was deep in the trough between two mountains of vegetation, the next, she was poised up high, revealing a limitless vista of unbroken yellow-brown. Above, the sky darkened, with thick clouds rolling in from the north and west, some black, others purple-tinged and full-bellied, pregnant with menace.

'What's happening, Bradan?' Melcorka asked.

'We whistled for the wind,' Bradan said, 'and your Defender summoned us up something a bit stronger. Look at the plants!'

Already, the rising swell showed patches of clear water through the vegetation. A spatter of spray rattled against Catriona's hull.

'I've never seen anything like this before.' Bradan watched with interest. 'It's a new experience.'

'It's a new experience I can do without. What is that?' Melcorka pointed astern, where a patch of clear sea brightened to flaming orange. She could only stare as the water erupted behind them, thrusting upward in a fiery red mass, edged with orange and purple. 'In the name of God!

The sea surged skyward in a wave ten, fifteen, twenty, fifty times higher than Catriona's mast and still rising.

'Hold on!' Bradan yelled. 'Mel! Find something to hold on to!'

The sea continued to rise, higher and higher until it blocked the sky astern, augmented by a smoky dark cloud and the reek of sulphur.

'It's Hell!' Melcorka shouted. 'The gates of Hell have opened up behind us!'

'Row!' Thumping onto a rowing bench, Bradan grabbed a pair of oars. 'Row, Melcorka! Row as if your soul depends on it.' Leaning forward, he dipped the blades in the seething water and pulled back, with Melcorka doing the same, until they realised that Catriona was already rushing forward at a far higher speed than anything they could manage. The smell of sulphur was overpowering, as fish, living and dead, rained down on them, together with water that was so hot it burned their skin. Glowing embers joined the fish, some hissing as they landed in the sea, others hitting the hull or sliding down the much-patched linen sail.

'Get the sail in!' Bradan yelled. 'These burning rocks will set it on fire!' Shipping his oars, he began to furl the fabric, with Melcorka joining him, swearing as the hot rocks hurtled down and fish flapped and writhed in the seething water that lapped at their shins and knees. They bundled the sail on deck, where it smouldered and charred under the onslaught of hot rocks.

'Hurry!' Bradan slapped at the flames until a wave crashed against the hull and sent a bathful of hot water to douse the fire.

'What's happening?' Melcorka yelled, above the roar of water and wind. Her hair beat a mad frenzy against her head, one second covering her face, the next, streaming down her back. 'Is it the devil coming for us?' She glanced toward Defender, thrumming in the vibrating mast. 'I'll fight it, if it is!'

'No!' Bradan shouted. 'It's a volcano! I've heard about them before. It's a mountain exploding and spewing out its flaming insides.'

'We're at sea!' Melcorka nearly screamed. 'There are no mountains here!'

'It must be a mountain under the sea!' Bradan roared.

'I've never heard of that before.' Melcorka tried to control her flying hair.

'Sit down, grab hold of something and pray,' Bradan said. 'There's nothing else we can do.' Balancing in the madly rocking boat, he inched to the stern and clutched at the tiller.

'It's all right, Bradan,' Melcorka said. 'Don't forget that a master-builder created Catriona. No sea can sink her.'

'No sea can sink her –' Bradan glanced at the nightmarish mountains of water behind him, shuddered and quickly turned his attention forward, 'but the sea might still capsize her, or toss us out.' He had to bellow to be heard above the roaring of wind and water. 'I'll keep her head straight.'

All around them, the sea was a maelstrom, with waves rising and falling. Debris from the volcano continued to hammer down, lashing the surface of the water like a thousand flails.

As Catriona rushed on, Bradan fought the tiller that bucked and reared in his hands, trying to guide the ship through the nightmare of rising and falling water. Twice, he saw colossal sea monsters of a type he had never met before, and each time they vanished again, as some hidden current dragged them away. Melcorka laughed, crawled to the bow and stood there like a splendid figurehead, her head thrown back and her legs braced to challenge this new experience.

'That's my Mel,' Bradan whispered. 'Whatever comes at us, we'll get through it.' His arms ached with the strain of steering Catriona, yet knew he had to hold on. If he relaxed, a wave could smash at them from starboard or larboard, capsizing them in half a second. Bradan knew that Finlay MacCodrum, Catriona's builder, had been part selkie, a creature of the sea. Finlay had designed Catriona to be unsinkable, but had he taken account of underwater volcanoes?

Had Finlay even known about such things?

Bradan held on, keeping Catriona's stern to the sea, guiding her despite the constant ache of his arms. He lost track of time, he lost track of distance or location. Keeping afloat mattered, keeping alive mattered. Nothing else. Ignoring the pain, ignoring the fatigue, Bradan remained at his post as the sea hissed and spumed and roared around them.

'I'll take over! Have a break!' Melcorka crawled to Bradan's side, her voice sounding dim through the thick cloud of his exhaustion.

'Thank you.' Bradan relinquished the tiller and massaged his arms. 'How long has it been since the eruption?'

'Melcorka shrugged. 'I don't know. Hours, maybe days.' She glanced at Defender, still firm in the mast. 'You were right, Brad. It was our fault. We caused the volcano to erupt by sticking the sword in the mast. If a sailor's knife and a whistle can call up the wind, how much more could a magic sword such as Defender do?'

'It was nothing to do with Defender.' Bradan was not sure if he was correct. He no longer cared. The volcano and subsequent massive waves had pushed them clear of the terrible yellow seaweed and got them moving again, after weeks of floating on a pond-calm sea. Bradan knew they were heading in the wrong direction to go home, but he was the Wanderer; any new nation or unknown people would broaden his knowledge.

'You're trying to make me feel better.' Melcorka brought him back to the present. 'I still don't know the full power of my sword. Retake the tiller.' Stepping forward, she wrestled Defender free from the mast. Almost immediately, the sea began to moderate, the wind eased, and within an hour Catriona was sailing at a sedate pace over a sea that was no different from any other, except for the hundreds of dead fish floating on top.

'At least we won't go hungry for a while.' Bradan leaned over the bulwark to scoop up the nearest fish.

Melcorka began to clean Defender's blade. 'I wonder where we are? I think we have travelled many miles.'

'At the speed we were going, hundreds of miles,' Bradan agreed. 'I've never been in a ship that moved so quickly for so long.'

Melcorka slid Defender into her scabbard. 'I wonder what strange lands we will come to next, what adventures we will have and what peoples we will see?'

Bradan smiled. 'I hope there are no adventures, Mel. I want to find myself in a peaceful place, with intelligent people to increase my knowledge. I will settle for somewhere such as Athens, or Rome, or Baghdad.' He yawned. 'But the first thing I want to do is sleep. I feel as if we've been awake for days.'

'We have,' Melcorka said.

Bradan checked the sea. 'It's clear here. We can let Catriona drift for a while and catch up on some sleep.' He grinned. 'Let's hope there are no more aggressive plants.'

Melcorka smiled. She did not mention seeing the face of Kanaima among the vegetation. Sometimes, it was better not to share all her knowledge, for Bradan the Wanderer was also Bradan the Worrier. She crawled into the shelter of the small cabin under the foredeck and closed her eyes.

The face of Kanaima returned, ethereal within her head. 'Begone! You are dead!' Melcorka brushed it away.

'Did you say something, Mel?'

'I was dreaming,' Melcorka said. 'Go back to sleep.' She listened until Bradan's breathing became soft and regular, put her arm around him and closed her eyes again.

I am not dead, Melcorka. No mortal blade can kill me.