Paul had known from the first rising of the wind, and the first glimpse of the dark cloud that is now blotting out the sky, what was coming.
They have fought the storm for as long as they could; after that, they tried to run with it. They all know now that it will not be enough. Paul and Diarmuid are clinging to a rope lashed to the mainmast. Other sailors, around the ship, are doing the same thing. Many are praying, but Paul of all people knows that prayer will do little. This is not a natural storm, nor does it belong to any of the gods that Paul knows, can deal with, can on occasion master.
This storm is the Weaver's, and it falls upon Arthur Pendragon, who is standing, with Coll, at the front of the ship, attempting to guide it to safety.
Arthur and Coll; and then a third. Lancelot grapples his way to their side, and the three men stand in a tight not, gripping the tiller together, guiding the ship into the bay of the Anor Lisen -
- and onto the jagged rocks that guard its entrance.
They are moving so fast that none of them have even seen the shore, let alone the rocks, between the blinding sheets of rain. There is no time to cry out a warning, no time for anything.
It could be that Paul hears ravens. It could simply be his own intuition; afterwards, he will never be shore, but in that moment as the Prydwen hits he lets go of the rope and cries out in his voice of thunder, in Mornir's voice, "Liranan!"
Everything falls apart. Masts, sides, deck, all crack like twigs under the combined force of the storm and the rocks.
But in the second before the Prydwen collapses around them, they are all, each and every one aboard that ship, catapulted over the sides.
As he cartwheels in the air, flying, however briefly, for the first time in his life, Paul hears a voice in his mind: I will pay for this, and pay, and be made to pay again, before the weaving of time is done. But I owe you, brother - the sea stars are shining in a certain place again because you bound me to your aid. This is not binding; this is a gift. Remember me!
Each and every man lands safely in the astoundingly calm waters of the sheltered bay of Anor Lisen.
They have fought the storm for as long as they could; after that, they tried to run with it. They all know now that it will not be enough. Paul and Diarmuid are clinging to a rope lashed to the mainmast. Other sailors, around the ship, are doing the same thing. Many are praying, but Paul of all people knows that prayer will do little. This is not a natural storm, nor does it belong to any of the gods that Paul knows, can deal with, can on occasion master.
This storm is the Weaver's, and it falls upon Arthur Pendragon, who is standing, with Coll, at the front of the ship, attempting to guide it to safety.
Arthur and Coll; and then a third. Lancelot grapples his way to their side, and the three men stand in a tight not, gripping the tiller together, guiding the ship into the bay of the Anor Lisen -
- and onto the jagged rocks that guard its entrance.
They are moving so fast that none of them have even seen the shore, let alone the rocks, between the blinding sheets of rain. There is no time to cry out a warning, no time for anything.
It could be that Paul hears ravens. It could simply be his own intuition; afterwards, he will never be shore, but in that moment as the Prydwen hits he lets go of the rope and cries out in his voice of thunder, in Mornir's voice, "Liranan!"
Everything falls apart. Masts, sides, deck, all crack like twigs under the combined force of the storm and the rocks.
But in the second before the Prydwen collapses around them, they are all, each and every one aboard that ship, catapulted over the sides.
As he cartwheels in the air, flying, however briefly, for the first time in his life, Paul hears a voice in his mind: I will pay for this, and pay, and be made to pay again, before the weaving of time is done. But I owe you, brother - the sea stars are shining in a certain place again because you bound me to your aid. This is not binding; this is a gift. Remember me!
Each and every man lands safely in the astoundingly calm waters of the sheltered bay of Anor Lisen.
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