“Nay. I willnae allow it.” She glanced back toward the approaching ship and knew she had little time left to try and live up to that boast. Only the fact that it was battling the force of the wind-driven sea had kept it from already slamming into Captain Tillet’s ship. “Do ye remember how to swim?”
“A wee bit,” replied Michel in the mix of French and Scots accents that she found so endearing.
“’Twill do. I am going to get ye into the water, lads, and ye are to swim to shore.” She turned the boys until they faced the shoreline they had seen earlier in the day but which was now hidden by dark storm clouds and heavy rain. “I will toss these kegs into the water and then both of ye will follow them. Ye are to grab hold of the kegs as soon as ye can. Soon there will be a lot of wood in the water so, if these kegs prove troublesome to catch, grab something else. Anything else that will help ye keep your heads above the water. Dinnae let your fears steal your wits. Fix your eyes upon the shore, hold fast to the wood, and kick your legs as I showed ye when I taught ye to swim.”
“The sea is verra fierce, Anna,” said Michel, fear making his sweet voice tremble. “’Tis nay like the pond we learned to swim in.”
“I ken it, my loves, but the skills I taught ye will do weel enough, be the water calm or rough. And ye only need to truly swim until ye can grab hold of a keg or some other bit of wood.”
She hefted up a keg and looked down at the rough water. It was going to be a miracle if they got out of this alive. The chances of all three of them conquering the turbulent waters long enough to grab hold of a keg or other scrap of wood was very small. Unfortunately, the chances of them surviving when the larger ship rammed into theirs were even smaller. At least this plan allowed them to choose where and how they went into the water.
Glancing at the boys and then at herself, noting how they had all dressed to fight the chill of the air and protect themselves from the rain, she quickly set the keg back down. “Cloaks and boots off, laddies. Quickly now. Those things will be naught but anchors dragging ye under once ye hit the water.” She yanked off her own cloak and boots and then hastily unlaced her gown, survival more important to her than modesty. “Put them into the keg. Hurry,” she pressed, the increasingly terrified cries of the others on the ship telling her that time was rapidly running out on them.
It was all done swiftly, but Arianna’s heart pounded out every passing moment like a death knell. After looping a length of rope around her waist, she secured the top on the keg and hurled it into the water. She rapidly tossed in a second and then a third. Kissing Michel on the cheek and praying it was not for the very last time, she dropped the pale, wide-eyed child over the side of the ship. Arianna did not hesitate to do the same with Adelar even though her heart was breaking.
She took one last look over her shoulder as she clambered over the rail. The other ship was so close she could see the hard faces of the men on its deck, yet the ship made no move to alter its deadly course. The way the men were bracing themselves told her they knew what was coming, had planned for it. Praying she and the boys could get clear of the looming destruction in time, she dove into the water.
Arianna hit the water hard, screaming in her head over the painfully frigid shock as she sank beneath the foam-flecked waves. Yet another threat, she thought, and wondered how many more trials she and the boys could endure. Fear and anger gave her the strength needed to push herself back up to the surface. Her eyes stung from the salty water while she frantically searched the waves for her boys. Panic was gnawing at her mind, screaming that she had thrown her beloved boys to their deaths, by the time she finally caught sight of them. Each boy clung tightly to a keg as the ocean waters callously tossed him from wave to wave.
She reached the third keg just before she reached the boys. Fighting against the strength of the storm-driven water, trying to ignore how the cold was leeching the strength from her body, she worked to lash the kegs together with the rope she had taken from the ship. By the time Arianna dragged herself up onto the odd little raft she had just made, she was shaking so hard her teeth clicked together. Then she heard the harsh, terrifying sound of wood splintering, the screams of doomed men cutting through the roar of the storm.
Looking over Michel, who was sprawled between her and Adelar, she yelled, “Paddle, Adelar! Use your hand and all your strength to paddle!”