- Ellowyn Demont of Dochte Abbey

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

The Spike of Dahomey

The Holk of Doviur was listing badly, forcing the crew to bail water and work at shoring up the cracks in the seams before she foundered and sank. The beating from the storm had mangled the rigging, terrified the crew, and jeopardized the massive hull. There was no doubt though, in any of the crew’s mind, that Lia had saved them from destruction. As she walked above deck, they looked at her with respect and awe. Some had even asked her for her blessing.

Tomas Aldermaston shouted orders, striding vigorously on the deck and pointing this way and that, identifying new dangers that threatened them. He stared at the deep shelf of the sea, tame once more and beckoned for Lia to join him. She did.

He kept his voice pitched low and it was thick with anger. “We are lost,” he whispered. “That storm blew us hither and yon, and I cannot get my bearings until the night. We should have seen Dahomey shores by now, but I cannot say whether we will see their shores or ours first. We faced the wrath of Sheol, we did. But now we are lost and I fear we will take in more water before we can make it to a harbor to mend the Holk.”

Lia nodded and walked behind him, staring over the bulwark to the flat line of the sea. The waves rippled in little foamy caps and she breathed in the salty air. “The sun is over there, so we sail southward?”

“Aye,” Tomas replied. “That is about the best course I can choose. The gap between our two countries is narrowest between the cities of Doviur and Ushuaia. Dochte Abbey is further west but if we have gone past the Spike of Dahomey, we could sail south forever and not reach it until the sea starts to boil.”

“What is the Spike?”

He scowled and frowned, chewing on his thoughts savagely. “The coastline is not flat, lass. There is a bulge of land that comes out like a dagger spike. I know not how far west we were flung, you see. Not until nightfall when I see the stars. But we lose precious time and increase the danger.”

Lia stared into the sea, thinking. Her father had thought of everything. Untying the knot at the pouch, she withdrew the Cruciger orb.

“Well that is a pretty sight,” Tomas Aldermaston said, his eyes growing hungry from the glimmer of pure gold. “Look at how the top bobs and spins. A curious workmanship, lass. Where did you get it?”

Lia ignored him and stared down at the spindles. Show me the way to Dochte Abbey, she thought, summoning its powers. The spindles spun around once and pointed due south, the direction they were headed. Show me Martin. The spindle did not change. Show me Colvin. No change. Show me Hillel Lavender. Again, the spindle remained true.

Putting her hand on Tomas’ shoulder, she squeezed and nodded. “We will be there before nightfall. The orb never lies.”

Indeed, it did not. Before much time had passed, the lad in the crow’s nest hollered he could see land. The rest of the crew rushed to the view and watched the kingdom of Dahomey appear across the horizon. A collective cheer rose up and sailors pumped their fists in the air, shocked with relief that they had cheated death during the crossing. Additional crew members touched the edge of her cloak, nodding respectfully to her. The crew clapped each other on the back and went back to their chores with vigor and the listing ship hobbled closer to the edge of Dahomey.

“That is the Spike,” Tomas told her, motioning towards the jut of land. “If we follow the coastline south, we will meet with Dochte Abbey at the edge of it. There is no harbor at the Abbey, but there is one about two leagues to the west – the town of Vezins. The tide defends the Abbey twice a day, you see. When it comes in, it is an island. When it goes out, the road opens. No army has ever been able to lay siege to it. No fleet could attack it because of the tides and the lack of deep water. It took a hundred years to raise it. We will anchor in Vezins and there you must walk to the Abbey. You can cross in the morning, when the tide goes out. I would say hire a village lad, but you have that golden ball to guide you.”

Lia felt the throb of the Medium in her heart. She gripped Tomas’ forearm tightly and blinked tears from her eyes. “You must wait for me, or wait for word from me. I warned you the Blight is coming by Twelfth Night. We do not have long now. If I must flee Dochte Abbey, if they will not listen, I will need a way to escape. Can you fix your ship quickly? More importantly, will you wait for me?”

Tomas’ eyes widened with surprise. “You would have me sail you away from this land?”

She gazed deeply into his eyes. “I may need you to sail me to the edge of the world, Tomas Aldermaston. There is a gathering place. There are ships that will carry us to a distant shore where the Blight cannot touch us. I would have you with us when we go.”