Seeing Myron’s expression, Arista nudged Hadrian.
“But, um… he didn’t actually ever try to kill any of us. He was just doing his job, I guess. I suppose he was pretty good at it.” Hadrian stopped there, looking awkward.
“Would you like to say something?” Myron asked Arista.
“I didn’t know him.”
“At this point I don’t think he’d mind,” Myron said.
“Okay. I suppose.” She thought a second, then said, “Although none of us knew him well, I am certain Mr. Bernie had virtues as well as shortcomings, like any of us. He likely helped people, or showed courage in the face of adversity when others might not. He must have had some good in him; otherwise Maribor would not have sent one of his most compassionate and thoughtful servants here to ensure he had a proper passing.”
“Wow, that was much better than mine,” Hadrian whispered.
“Shh,” Arista said.
“And so, Lord,” Myron concluded with a bowed head, “we say farewell to Bernie. May the light of a new dawn rise upon his soul.” Then in a light voice Myron sang:
Unto Maribor, I beseech thee
Into the hands of god, I send thee
Grant him peace, I beg thee
Give him rest, I ask thee
May the god of men watch over your journey.
“Is that it?” Hadrian asked.
“That’s it,” Myron replied. “Thank you both for coming and standing in the cold water.”
“Let’s get back. My feet are going numb,” Arista said, hopping through the surf.
“Your Highness?” Myron asked, chasing her. “I can’t help but ask. Who is the servant of Maribor you were speaking of?”
She looked at him, surprised. “You, of course.”
“Oh.”
When they got back, Alric and the rest were tying up their makeshift raft to the side of the Harbinger. Arista was impressed. The raft was eight feet square, lashed tight and caulked with pitch.
On board, Wyatt and Elden were pushing everything that could be moved from the bow to the stern. The back of the ship began to rock in earnest, making it hard to stand.
Once everyone was on board, Wyatt looked up as if to the heavens and shouted, “Loose the tops’l!”
She gasped as Royce pulled a line, then without hesitation ran across the yard to the far side and pulled another. The topsail fell open and Royce dropped to the masthead and, running along the top of the mainsail yard, tied off the sheets.
“Loose the mains’l!” Wyatt shouted, and Royce released the big sail. “Hands to the sheets!”
Hadrian and Elden, on opposite sides of the ship, pulled ropes connected to the lower corners of the sail, stretching it out taut.
“Hands to the braces! Back all sails!”
Elden and Hadrian grabbed hold of ropes attached to the ends of the yards and pulled, twisting them around so that they caught the wind on an angle, pushing the ship backward toward the sea. They looked to Wyatt, who waved them over until they had the right angle; then they tied off the braces.
“Everyone to the stern!” Wyatt called, and each of them moved to the back of the ship. The wind and the waves rocked them, and at times it seemed they were lifting, but the ship failed to move.
“The keel’s dug in,” Wyatt said, then sighed. “We’ll need to kedge off. Elden and Hadrian, hoist the anchor to the raft and lash it tight. Alric—forgive me, Your Majesty, but I need to use you like a deckhand and will be dispensing with formalities. I hope you understand. Please take Mauvin and launch the raft as soon as the anchor is on it. Now this is what you must remember: paddle out directly behind the ship. Any angle will reduce our traction. We want to pull the ship in perfect line with the keel. When you are out so far that the chain is fully extended, drop the anchor, then return to the ship as fast as you can.”
Alric nodded, and with Mauvin following, they climbed over the side of the ship. Using the pulleys attached to the main yard, Hadrian and Elden hoisted the anchor out over the raft, which bobbed and bucked in the surf. Alric and Mauvin straddled it, tying the anchor fast to the deck; both were sprayed and soaked by crashing waves. Hadrian handed paddles down, and with one on each side, the two worked to push the weighted craft out over the swells.
The chain played out through Wyatt’s own hands as he stood at the stern, carefully watching their progress. Alric and Mauvin appeared like two rats on a barrel lid when the chain went taut. Arista saw the flash of Mauvin’s blade, and the anchor went into the water, nearly flipping the raft.
“Hands to the capstan!” Wyatt called. “That’s everyone—except, of course, you, Your Highness.”