Chapter Two #2
Gabriel passed the lantern to one of the men and took hold of the oars, pulling them through the cold water with steady strength. The wind cut across the surface of the sea, carrying the bitter scent of salt and kelp. His gaze never left the jagged shoreline ahead.
If Samuel’s boat had been driven onto those rocks, reaching him would be dangerous work.
The waters along this stretch of coast were treacherous even in daylight.
Beneath the churning waves lay sharp stone ridges and hidden reefs that could tear open the hull of a vessel in moments.
Steering a longboat through it would require skill, patience, and no small amount of luck.
Still, if any men could manage it, it was those aboard with him. They had grown up along these shores. Every hidden channel, every dangerous outcrop had been learned through years of fishing and sailing these waters.
“Over there!” Jameson suddenly called.
His arm shot out, pointing toward a towering boulder that rose like a dark sentinel above the crashing waves.
Gabriel followed the direction of his finger. At first there was only shifting shadow. Then the figure moved.
A man clung to the rock, one arm wrapped desperately around its rough surface while the other waved wildly in the air.
For a moment Gabriel stared in disbelief.
That the man had survived being thrown against those rocks was miracle enough. That he had then managed to climb the slick, wave-lashed stone was nearly beyond reason.
But after so many years at sea, Gabriel knew one truth well. The will to live was a strong force. A man clinging to life could endure far more than most would believe.
“We can nae get too close,” one of the sailors said grimly, peering into the water. “Too many jagged rocks beneath the surface.”
“Aye,” Jameson muttered, squinting toward the waves breaking against the stone. “’Tis a cursed spot. And I doubt he can swim to us either. He must be half dead from clinging there so long.”
The wind gusted harder, sending spray across the boat as another wave rolled beneath them.
Gabriel studied the distance, measuring the water between them and the stranded man.
Then he made his decision. He handed the oars back to one of the men. “Take over.”
The crewman slid into place without question.
“Give me the rope,” Gabriel said. A length of thick line was placed into his hands. With practiced movements, he wrapped it around his waist and tied a secure knot, pulling it tight against his tunic.
Only when he was satisfied did he turn toward Jameson. “The Wind Dancer is yers if anything happens.”
Jameson stared at him. Not with alarm. Not even with concern.
Instead, he gave Gabriel the same flat, unimpressed look he’d worn since they were boys.
“If ye die,” he said calmly, “I will burn it to ash. So ye best nae die.”
Gabriel barked a short laugh. “If I die and ye burn it, I will haunt ye for the rest of yer days.”
Then he flashed a crooked grin. “And I’ll pull yer breeches down in public.”
Jameson snorted. “That is because ye like the sight of my white arse.”
A ripple of snickers moved through the men, though none spoke of the danger waiting in the dark waters below.
Gabriel swung one leg over the side of the boat. For a brief moment, the wind howled around them and the waves slapped hard against the hull.
Then he plunged. The sea was ice cold. It stole the breath from his lungs the instant he hit the water.
God help him. He was a fool.
The rope jerked tight around Gabriel’s waist as the cold sea closed over his head.
For a heartbeat, the world became nothing but darkness and roaring water. The shock of it stole the breath from his lungs and stabbed through his chest like a blade of ice. He kicked hard, forcing his arms forward until his head broke the surface again.
“Hold the line!” someone shouted from the boat.
The wind carried the words away, but Gabriel felt the rope shift as the men braced themselves.
A wave struck him broadside.
Saltwater filled his mouth as he was shoved beneath the surface again. He fought upward, coughing as he emerged, blinking against the sting in his eyes. The moon flickered across the waves, rising and falling with the swell, its pale light revealing the black shape of the rock ahead.
And the man clinging to it. It was indeed Samuel.
Even from that distance, Gabriel could see the way the fisherman sagged against the stone. One arm still wrapped around it, the other hanging limp as the sea smashed against his legs.
“Hold fast!” Gabriel shouted, though he knew the man could likely hear nothing but the crashing surf.
He struck out toward the rock. Each stroke felt heavier than the last. The current dragged at him, tugging him sideways as the rope trailed behind like a stubborn hand trying to pull him back. Twice he felt the line go taut and jerk him sharply as the men in the boat adjusted their hold.
“Give him slack!” Jameson’s voice roared faintly across the water.
Gabriel pushed forward, teeth clenched.
The rocks loomed larger with every breath. Jagged teeth of black stone thrust through the waves, slick with foam. The sea smashed itself against them in bursts of white spray that shot into the air. One wrong movement and he would be dashed against them like driftwood.
Another wave surged forward and lifted him high enough that he saw Samuel clearly. The man’s head sagged forward, chin nearly to his chest. His fingers had curled into the rock like claws.
“Samuel!” Gabriel bellowed.
The fisherman’s head lifted weakly.
Moonlight caught his face, pale, bloodied, and drawn tight with exhaustion. His lips moved, though whatever he tried to say was swallowed by the wind.
“Stay awake!” Gabriel shouted as he fought the last stretch of water.
A violent swell surged beneath him, slamming him toward the rocks. He twisted sharply, bracing his boots against a submerged ridge just as the wave broke.
Pain shot up his leg, but he held fast, fingers grasping for purchase along the rough surface.
“By God…” Samuel rasped hoarsely when Gabriel hauled himself close enough to grab his arm. The fisherman’s skin was icy and slick with seawater.
“I really thought I would die tonight.”
“Ye still might,” Gabriel said grimly, wrapping one arm around the man’s chest. “So do me a favor and keep breathing.”
Samuel gave a weak laugh that sounded more like a cough.
Behind them the rope drifted in the water, its end trailing toward the boat rocking in the distance.
Gabriel tightened his grip on the fisherman and raised his arm.
“Pull!” he roared into the wind.
For a moment nothing happened.
Then the rope snapped taut around his waist.
And the sea tried its hardest to drag them both under.