Thunder Meets Thunder

The Sicilian lord and his sidekick safely stored their gear in their quarters below, while Taylor Godwin prepared to weigh anchor.

"We'll be sailing close to the wind and into a storm, Mr. Spratt. I'll want you personally to see that everything is tied down. Put Hawk in the bow with me to watch for rocks; we've got the sharpest eyes. Swen should be 'midships to convey orders. We'll leave the sails full for speed, but we may have to reef them quickly - I want the best climbers standing by for that!"

"Aye, Cap'n! Been a long time since this crew o' sea lovers rode a wind like this one! It'll be a blow to remember, Cap'n!" Spratt exclaimed, scrambling to carry out orders.

Taylor half listened to the sounds of the ship as the men began the arduous task of raising the anchor. Her mind occupied itself with plotting their course and reviewing the known hazards of the narrow passage. After a few moments of furious activity, the sails were raised and the Strega de lo Mare harnessed the wind.  Heeling gracefully, she set a rapid pace toward the rocky cliffs of the harbor entrance.

The end of the narrow passage was in sight when the full brunt of the storm hit. The winds funnelling through the cleft were so strong Taylor feared the ship would be blown backwards. She had just spotted rocks ahead and given the order to tack when the Sicilian appeared on deck.  He strode purposefully toward Capt. Godwin, just as Swen relayed her order.

"Hard to port! Rocks ahead!" Swen's foghorn voice bellowed.

The dramatic roll of the ship was punctuated by the creaking of solid wood beams and the swoosh of canvas.

"Look out!" Taylor shouted, just a second too late. The Sicilian must have seen the movement from the corner of his eye; he had thrown himself to the deck just in time to avoid being swept overboard by a swinging boom as the ship came about. Not knowing if he'd have brains enough to hold on when the ship heeled to port, Taylor rushed toward the spread-eagled lord.

Beginning to rise, the Sicilian shouted authoritatively, "I'd like to speak to you, Capt. Godwin ... if that is your name!"

Flattening him by the expedient method of placing a boot in the middle of his back, Taylor guided his hand to a handhold set in the deck just as the sails caught the wind. The ship heeled in the gale force winds, the port rail - and the Sicilian's boots - going underwater.

"I have no time for this right now, your lordship," Taylor said briskly. "Your insistence upon leaving tonight has put my ship - your ship - and my crew in danger. I mean no disrespect, but get your dainty aristocratic arse in your quarters where you belong, and stay out of the way!"  Capt. Godwin turned to address Swen.  "Relay the order to reef sail, Mr. Swen, and then accompany his lordship to his quarters. We don't want him washed overboard!"

Thunder shook the air, while the ship pitched wildly in the heavy seas.  Nearly horizontal rain splattered against the hull in a staccato voice that was suddenly muted by the slamming of the cabin door.  Sicilian's face was flushed, and his blood surged in his veins in frothing waves.  Never had he felt so intimidated or so angry.  Captain Godwin was right, and he knew it.  He had jeopardized the ship in his anger.

Still, that was no excuse for one of his captains to treat him with disrespect.  Captain Godwin was out of line in her rough treatment of a man she knew was no lubber ... or did she?  Surely she must!

Loose articles slid and tumbled as the ship heeled hard to starboard, the sound of the waves pounding the hull in protest.  This was a fierce blow, and one to challenge any captain's ability, especially when leaving a narrow harbor entrance into heavy seas.

The darkness of Sicilian's complexion deepened, as he realized that it had been his order to be ready to sail immediately, and that his anger was directed toward Captain Godwin simply for complying with that order.  At the time he'd drafted the note, he was not aware of the approaching storm.  He was going to have to apologize to Captain Godwin, and considering his pride that was not going to be easy.

The momentum of the ship had lessened, and there seemed an unnatural calm in the gentle rolling swells he could feel.  Something was amiss ... a feeling ... a premonition?  Sicilian could feel the chill up his spine, and the small hairs prickled on the back of his neck.  He wondered if he should risk going topside again.  He strained to look over his shoulder ... "Aristocratic arse, indeed!"  Then he realized what he must look like standing there all twisted.  He burst out laughing!

Taking advantage of the sudden calm, Taylor turned command over to Spratt and headed for Sicilian's cabin.  She'd spent too much time dreading this meeting.  Now that she was already furious at the man, he didn't seem so frightening; this was as good a time as any to have it out.

Taylor hadn't noticed the unnatural silence until she got to Sicilian's cabin door.  The creaking timbers of a heaving ship were absent, since they were becalmed, and outside sounds seemed somehow muted.  What she did hear, though, as she raised her hand to knock on the door, was the sound of laughter from Sicilian's cabin.  Her face reddened, and heat spread under her collar ... this aristocratic lubber was laughing at her.

"Why that ...."

Sicilian decided to go topside and apologize to Captain Godwin.  It was the least he could do.  He went to his door and jerked it open.  There stood Taylor, with her hand raised to knock, with anger flashing in her blue eyes.  Perhaps the storm wasn't over yet.

Sicilian raised his hand to Taylor, and quickly spoke first:  "Captain Godwin, there is something amiss here.  I hired a man, and now find a woman in command of my ship.  However, I also have the records of your Captainship.  If you are indeed the Captain of the Strega De Lo Mare, I cannot fault your record.

"This present incident is my fault," he quickly continued.  "I am fully aware of that.  Will you please come in and talk to me as my Captain, and answer some questions?"

Taylor stood before him, mouth agape.  He had completely disarmed her anger, and now she was at a loss for words.

Sicilian motioned toward his cabin.  "Captain?"

Finally she found her voice.  "Yes!  Yes I am!"

Dallas & Cheryl D'Angelo-Gary 97