Chapter 16
Something shocked Hawke awake. He grunted, rubbing his eyes and trying to grasp onto the wisps of his dream. It was something nice. Ducklings, a soft hand in his—
“Captain?”
The voice brought him fully awake. What was Grieg doing in his cabin? Hawke sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the berth. “What is it?”
“Captain, there is—”
A thump shook the ship, and Grieg grabbed onto the doorframe to steady himself.
Hawke cursed and pulled on his trousers and boots. Whatever was hitting the ship was either larger than what had bumped against the hull last night, or—and Hawke really hoped this wasn’t the case—it was becoming bolder.
Hawke glanced at the drawn curtain. He didn’t hear anything from the other side of the cabin. He hoped Lady Annabelle could continue to sleep while they dealt with this—whatever this was.
He drew on a shirt as he followed Grieg out onto the deck, squinting to make out the shadows through the fog. Crewmembers were at the rails, speaking together in worried voices.
“Something is in the water,” Shadbolt said.
The man had materialized next to him, making Hawke jump.
“Something large,” the first mate told him.
Hawke swallowed down his trepidation and followed him to the rail. At first, he could see nothing in the dark water. Then a shadow appeared, rising from the deep. Shadbolt was right. But large was an understatement.
Grieg joined them. When he looked into the water, he cursed and crossed himself.
The shadow came closer, but it did not break the surface.
Hawke tried to make out its shape, but all he could tell for certain was the creature was not a shark.
It was not fish-shaped at all. It didn’t have any form that he could perceive, but his best guess was something akin to an octopus or a squid.
Waves moved around the ship. The creature bumped into the ship’s portside and was answered by a bump on the starboard. Hawke’s muscles tightened. Just how big was this beast that it could buffet the ship from both sides, making it rock?
The men grabbed on to the rail. Was the creature simply curious, or was it deliberately trying to capsize the ship?
Around him, crewmembers were crying out, and Hawke couldn’t tell whether they were merely frightened or if someone had been hurt.
He forced himself to act calm. The men would look to him for leadership, and should he allow his panic to show, the rest of the crew would follow.
The cries and shouts became louder, and among them, one word was unmistakable.
“Kraken!”
The air felt cold. As he watched, a pale shape broke the surface.
In the dark and the fog, it looked like a giant knee coming up from the bath.
But as it kept rising, one end flipped up out of the water.
A tentacle poked at the side of the ship, moving along the hull as if it were feeling for something.
“Move away from the rails!” Hawke shouted. He wished he could see what was happening on the other side of the ship. “Mr. Shadbolt, order the crew amidship.”
Hawke drew his sword. Even though he knew it was a useless gesture, it made him feel better.
“Should I ready the cannons?” Grieg asked.
“They will do no good. The creature is beneath us,” Hawke said. His mind spun with scenarios. How would they ever fight a beast of this size?
He glanced toward the cabin, and the fear he’d been suppressing erupted in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. Above all else, he could not bear for any harm to come to Lady Annabelle. “Send Tim to check on her ladyship,” he ordered. “And ready the jolly boats.”
The only thing more frightening than being on a ship buffeted by that creature was being in a small boat. But if the beast did manage to sink the ship, the jolly boats were their only chance of survival.
Grieg did as he was ordered.
Hawke and Shadbolt returned to the side, holding onto the rail as the ship rocked. The water churned. The choppy waves rose around them in swells, and for the first time in days, Hawke felt a gust of wind.
Out of habit, he inhaled, smelling the air, and looked up to the sky. Shadbolt did the same. It was nearly impossible to see, but it appeared as if there was a ring around the sun. The air smelled like—
“A storm,” Hawke and Shadbolt said together.
Another tentacle lifted from the water and came up toward the rail. Hawke wondered briefly if there were more on the other side of the ship.
The wind strength was increasing, making the fog swirl and thin.
A storm they were unprepared for was nearly as worrying as the creature clinging onto the ship.
Hawke contemplated which threat to focus on.
The creature was an unknown. It may attempt to capsize them, or it may become bored and leave.
A storm on the other hand . . . Hawke knew what to expect with that.
And without preparation, the sails would rip, masts and yards break, and water flood into the hold.
“Reef the mainsail,” Hawke barked in his most commanding voice. “And batten down the hatches.”
All around, the crew sprang into action.
Having a task was much preferable to cowering in the center of the ship and worrying about what was below.
Hawke considered the weight in the hold.
They had fortunately restocked the larder in Tortuga, and the added crates of healing tonic and other supplies gave them extra weight.
That would help to keep the ship from rolling.
The heavier hold was likely the reason the creature hadn’t been able to tip them.
The halyards were loosened and the sails reefed but not put away completely. Calypso’s Quest would still need wind speed to ride out the storm. Hawke hoped the creature hadn’t damaged the rudder. Without it, the ship would have no chance.
One of the tentacles had climbed almost to the rail.
Hawke leaned over and hacked at it with his cutlass.
The creature jolted, and the injured limb snapped back into the water.
Another slid upward, taking its place. Hawke struck again with enough force that his blade sliced through the tentacle and wedged itself into the side of the ship.
He pulled his sword free just as another limb snaked up toward him.
He frowned. Fighting a monster of this size with swords was useless.
With any luck, the storm would be fierce enough to scare it off.
Hawke smiled wryly at the thought. It was not an encouraging one.
The waves were swelling, and the ship swayed with their force and the creature’s rocking. It was difficult enough to keep one’s footing, but once the decks became wet, it would be nearly impossible. The crew needed to move quickly.
Hawke scanned the deck. The fog had cleared to the point that he could see nearly all of it. He looked up to the quarterdeck, ensuring Mr. Stanley had a firm hold on the wheel.
Oiled tarpaulins were nailed over the latticed hatches, covering their openings. Crewmembers climbed up and down the ratlines, while some leaned over the rail, hacking at what he assumed were more tentacles.
Anything that could be was tied down. The cannon ropes were checked and secured. A loose cannon during a storm could smash through rails and even kill sailors who attempted to stop it. Hawke knew the portholes below were being sealed and loose items locked away.
The wind blew from more than one direction now, and ahead, lightning illuminated the dark clouds. Waves were growing higher. Hawke tightened his jaw, recognizing the signs of a fierce tempest. A few drops splatted onto the deck, and Hawke returned to his cabin for his oilskin coat.
Tim was sitting on his berth, holding a lantern. When he saw Hawke, he put his finger over his lips. “Belle’s sleeping,” he whispered.
Hawke nodded, relieved that she hadn’t been sitting inside the cabin, terrified as the monster shook the ship. He swayed with the waves as he put on his coat and tossed any loose items into his sea chest before securing it.
He took the lantern from Tim, and for the first time on the voyage, he pushed aside the curtain and stepped onto Lady Annabelle’s side of the cabin.
When he came to her berth, he paused. She was wrapped in her blanket, cheek resting on one hand. His heart stirred at the sight. She looked so peaceful. If only he could simply let her sleep.
“My lady,” he spoke softly, not wanting to shock her.
He leaned closer and reached to touch her cheek but thought better of it, choosing instead to give her shoulder a gentle shake.
“Lady Annabelle.” The waves were more forceful now, and he pressed a palm against the deck overhead to steady himself.
She blinked her eyes, opening them wide when she saw Hawke standing over her. She sat up quickly, drawing the blanket tightly around her.
The pink print of her hand was on her cheek, and her hair was sleep-tousled.
In spite of the dual perils that threatened the ship, he smiled.
Hawke would rather enjoy waking up to such a sight every morning.
He shook his head, hoping to dislodge the thought that was not only inappropriate but ill-timed.
“What is it? Has something happened?” She darted a look toward the porthole and then behind him to where Tim stood at the curtain.
Rain began pounding on the deck overhead.
“A storm,” Hawke said. “Dress quickly and get below.”
Worry creased her brow. “Hawke?”
“You’ll be safe below,” he said. “Tim will escort you.” He looked back, making certain Tim had heard.
His friend nodded.
“Will you be safe?” Lady Annabelle’s brow was still wrinkled.
In answer, he gave a confident smirk. “My lady, with such skills as mine, need you ask?”
Lady Annabelle gave an exasperated sigh, but her worry seemed to have eased. Hawke left her to dress, closing the curtain behind him.
He leaned close to Tim. “Please keep Lady Annabelle from looking over the side of the ship,” he whispered. A storm was frightening enough without the added fear of whatever had attached itself to the hull. At least the thumping had stopped.