Chapter 19: Chapter 17. Storm
While meditating, Kylen opened his eyes and noticed a change in the weather. He could feel the ship rocking harder, the air getting heavier, and thunder rumbling in the distance. He could have asked the sailors for more details about the storm, but the guards were too close.
He decided it was too soon to act and continued to wait. Meanwhile, the storm was getting worse, and the ship was rocking more and more violently. People were thrown from one wall to the other. A torrential downpour began, the sky was covered with clouds, and lightning kept flashing.
Kylen waited for the right moment. The ship rocked again, but this time the bow rose high, and at that moment the guards, unable to keep their balance, fell backward against the cage, their backs pressed against the bars. With a quick lunge, he grabbed them by the necks. He strangled them with all his might.
They tried to reach for the weapons that had fallen from their hands, but they were only inches away. They struggled with all their might, but soon their movements slowed and they stopped.
"Buck, can you steer the ship?" Kylen asked. He had recovered somewhat in the two days they had been at sea, but he still couldn't stand.
"Cough No, I can't even lift my arm, let alone steer the ship in a storm," Buck replied.
"Your sailors?" Kylen asked.
"They can, but even they won't be enough to sail through this storm," Buck said.
"Can you lead them?" Kylen asked.
"Yes, I can do that. Tie me to the railing and I can steer the ship," Buck replied, determined to do something.
"Then I'll do it," Kylen said.
"Hurry, these fools are steering us right into the heart of the storm," Buck added.
Kylen had to pick the lock, since the guards didn't have the keys. After several minutes, the long-awaited click was heard. There was no point in checking the prison now; everyone was busy trying to weather the storm. So Kylen didn't worry about how long it took to unlock it.
He grabbed a short blade from one of the pirates and set about reaping his harvest. He quickly incapacitated everyone he encountered on the lower deck. Carefully, trying to keep his balance despite the rocking, he made his way up. Sailors ran everywhere, trying to steer the ship.
In the cacophony of thunder and rain, he went unnoticed. When one of the sailors ran past, he grabbed him by the mouth and dragged him into a dark corner, plunging the knife into his neck. Moving the body out of the way, he began to act decisively. One of the sailors tightening the ropes took a blow to the neck and a shove. The pirate flew into the churning sea. Disposing of the nearest sailors in the same way, he climbed onto the captain's bridge, where two men were trying to hold the wheel. They were so engrossed in the task that they didn't notice as Kylen dispatched the others nearby.
A few sailors remained at the bow of the ship, and he moved toward them. When he looked around to see if the second ship could come to their aid, he saw nothing. In that moment of distraction, the ship was tossed again. He was thrown like a rag doll, slamming into the railing and almost going overboard, but he managed to grab a rope. He dangled above the raging sea that could swallow him at any moment.
Blood poured from his hand as the rope cut into his flesh like a knife. He fought to gather his strength and climb up, but the waves crashing over the ship made it difficult.
Summoning his strength, he managed to pull himself up. Moving quickly, he needed to clear out the remaining enemies. No longer hiding, he launched an open attack. They reacted too late to the sudden assault and lost their lives.
Returning to the hold, he entered the cell where he found Buck.
"The ship is clear," Kylen said.
"Alright, boys, let's get out of this hell," Buck, now invigorated, proclaimed.
Once they climbed back up, Kylen quickly tied Buck facing the bow of the ship and took hold of the wheel. The sailors knew their tasks and immediately took their positions.
"Turn left, open the fore sail," Buck ordered, and Kylen relayed the commands.
The ship suddenly sped up, the sail filled with tension as the wind blew from multiple directions, with the strongest gust allowing them to steer where needed. The ship climbed a wave and managed to ride over it smoothly.
"Return the wheel to its original position, close the sail," Buck instructed.
Following Buck's directions, the ship now descended a large wave but miraculously landed on the water and stayed afloat.
"Great, keep it straight. We need to get out of the eye of the storm; those idiots steered us into the worst of it," Buck said.
The ship was suddenly engulfed by a massive wave, washing away anything not securely fastened. Kylen clung to the wheel, managing to hold on. Some weren't as lucky and were swept into the sea. As the wave passed, they caught their breath, but only for a moment, as another wave struck the ship. The fury of the storm was relentless. Huge masses of water crashed into the wooden vessel, which creaked and groaned but miraculously held together.
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Suddenly, a loud crack echoed as one of the masts broke. The massive beam tilted, but the ropes holding the masts together prevented it from falling completely, threatening to drag the remaining mast down with it.
"Cut the ropes!" Buck shouted.
The sailors immediately climbed up, risking their lives to sever the ropes. They couldn't afford to lose the last mast; otherwise, even if the ship survived the storm, it would be left adrift in the middle of the sea.
The final rope holding the mast was cut, and the mast fell overboard, disappearing into the water.
At last, the ship managed to pass through the most dangerous part of the storm, and the waters began to calm. The captain, tied to the railing near the wheel, started to fall asleep. Exhausted and seeing that the ship was almost through, he lost consciousness.
Seeing his comrade's condition, Kylen waited until they were completely clear of the storm. Then he untied Buck and carried him to the captain's quarters. He laid him on the bed, removed his wet clothes, and covered him with a blanket. Buck's body was weak, and staying in wet clothes could have severe consequences.
Returning to the wheel, Kylen watched as the hurricane moved away, becoming more distant. Although the wind was still strong and created large waves, it no longer seemed as terrifying.
The sailors knew what to do and helped with steering. The ship moved slowly, but it was moving. Without one mast, their speed was significantly reduced; for a ship of this type, the second mast was essential to balance the vessel's weight.
Buck regained consciousness only after three days. During that time, they navigated as best as they could, but only the captain could chart the correct course.
"I can't believe we made it out of that hell. I've been through a lot, but this was a first for me. Gilbert's betrayal hit hard," were Buck's first words as he regained consciousness, also requesting some water.
"You can believe in the purity of a person's soul, but you can't always see it," Kylen said.
"Hmm, an interesting saying," Buck remarked.
"I had a good teacher," Kylen replied.
"I take it he also taught you how to fight like that," Buck said.
"That too. His experience was impressive. He spent his entire life battling opponents of various calibers," Kylen responded.
"Battles aren't for me; my passion is sailing. But soon, that path will end. I invested everything in this deal. I have no crew, no ship, no gold," Buck said sadly.
"What do you mean? You have a ship, a crew can be assembled, and gold can be earned again," Kylen countered.
"I saw the state of my ship. It needs serious repairs; it's dangerous to sail on it any further. Even now, it's barely holding together. As for the crew, it takes years to train experienced sailors. My previous crew had been with me for almost three years, and some even longer," Buck replied.
"As long as you're alive, you can change a lot," Kylen said.
"You're right. This illness has thrown me into a depression. Hand me the map; we're heading roughly in the right direction, but we need to adjust our course to avoid missing our destination," Buck said.
What followed was a lesson in navigation. The sailor's main guides are the stars and the sun. If you know where the sun rises and can accurately read the maps, you can easily determine your direction. The ship was battered but still afloat, slowly making its way towards the shores of Noxus. Sailing to Bilgewater made no sense; in their vulnerable state, they would easily become prey for pirates.
The only viable option was a port located on the shores of Noxus. It had been built a few years ago and was already actively developing. The Empire wanted to control more territories and extend its influence not only on land but also on the seas.
What was supposed to be a week-long journey turned into almost two weeks at sea. Their food supplies were nearly exhausted, but with the crew reduced to a third of its original size, they managed to stretch what they had. Fortunately, the pirates didn't take all their cargo; a few kilograms of precious Demacian steel and other valuable goods remained. This would provide them with some funds.
Repairing a ship is expensive, and if you don't have connections, you'll be charged several times more since there's no alternative where to get repairs done.
In the distance, they could see the port of Noxus. Buck was able to stand and steer the ship. During this time, the ship had sprung many leaks that had to be patched up, and every few hours, they had to bail water out of the hold.
Barely afloat, the ship docked at one of the available spots, and they were immediately met by a platoon of soldiers in full armor, hands on their swords. They unceremoniously boarded the vessel, surrounding the crew and herding them into one area.
"Identify yourselves, state your purpose, and explain why your ship is in such a condition," a Noxian officer demanded. He was dressed not in armor but in ordinary clothes, likely an officer.
"The ship is 'Revenge.' I'm just a merchant, and the ship was damaged by a pirate attack, then we got caught in a storm. We need repairs and also to sell part of our cargo," Buck replied.
"I see you've suffered greatly. What types of goods are you selling? I need to ensure none are dangerous to Noxus," the officer said.
"A bit of everything, mainly spices, fabrics, some Demacian steel, and a few sets of armor," Buck listed the cargo.
"Demacian steel? How much of it?" the officer asked.
"Not much, just a few kilograms," Buck answered.
"Very well, we will take it. Here is payment at market price," the officer said, not leaving room for objections. He handed over a bag of gold and ordered them to show where the supplies were stored before heading into the hold. His soldiers quickly found the metal and carried it off. Free trade didn't seem to be a concept here.
"Less than I expected, but the price is fair," Buck said, counting the gold.
"Is it enough for repairs?" Kylen asked.
"I doubt it. Just the mast alone will take the entire amount, and it might not even be enough," Buck replied dejectedly. Looking at the gold, then at the city, he seemed to come to a decision. "You know what, let's go to a pub, have a drink, and take a break from the sea. The crew needs a rest after such an exhausting journey."
"Alright. I don't mind, but I won't drink," Kylen said. He had never drunk alcohol while living in Freljord and didn't plan to start now.
"You're missing out," Buck commented.
"I'll save more that way," Kylen retorted.
The crew headed to the nearest pub, where they settled at the closest tables. The sailors sat together while Kylen and Buck found a separate spot. A waitress approached them to take their order.
"A round of beer for my crew, good meat, and some snacks," Buck ordered.
"I'll have tea, please," Kylen requested.
"Tea?" the waitress asked curiously, as if it was an unusual request.
"Yes, tea," Kylen confirmed.
"I'll check if we have any, but we might not be able to make it. How about some compote?" the waitress suggested.
"No problem, then just water," Kylen said. The waitress noted the order and left.
"You're an odd one," Buck said.
"It is what it is," Kylen replied.
Their order arrived fairly quickly. There was no tea, but the fresh food was a welcome sight. It was finally an opportunity to enjoy a proper meal. As they sat peacefully, resting from their arduous journey, a man with a hood drawn up suddenly joined them at their table.
"Evening," the hooded man said, his voice low and mysterious. "I couldn't help but overhear your ship is in need of repair."
Kylen and Buck exchanged glances. "That's right," Buck said cautiously. "And who might you be?"
"I'm someone who can help. For a price, of course," the man replied, lowering his hood slightly to reveal sharp, calculating eyes. "Name's Valen. I deal in... acquisitions and repairs. Let's just say I have connections in Noxus."
"And what's the catch?" Kylen asked, suspicion evident in his voice.
"No catch," Valen said smoothly. "Just business. You need your ship fixed, and I need some favors done. We help each other out, simple as that."
Buck leaned back, considering. "What kind of favors?"
"Minor errands, really," Valen said, waving a hand dismissively. "Delivering messages, transporting certain goods, nothing too dangerous. And in return, I'll ensure your ship is repaired quickly and efficiently."
Kylen studied Valen, trying to gauge his sincerity. Buck, sensing the opportunity, nodded slowly. "Alright, Valen. Let's talk details."
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"Greetings, good people," the stranger addressed them.
"And who might you be?" Buck asked.
"A seeker in need of someone capable of assisting him," the stranger introduced himself.
"Heh, why should we help you? Get lost before my friend here throws you out," Buck retorted.
"That can change. In return, I can help you. Your ship is damaged, isn't it?" the stranger inquired.
"And why do you care?" Buck responded, still unfriendly.
"I have a contact, a skilled shipwright. I can arrange a discount for you and get your ship repaired at a low cost," the stranger offered. How did he know their ship was damaged and that they didn't have the money for repairs? His timing was too perfect, and it seemed suspicious.
"Alright, what's the catch?" Buck asked, lacking enthusiasm. He had encountered such situations before; they often seemed mutually beneficial, but typically, you ended up on the losing side.
"It's simple. I noticed your friend here is a good fighter. I need to retrieve something, and I think you can help me," the stranger continued.
"Still sounds fishy," Buck replied.
"I'll also give you a small gift in gold for any trouble," the stranger added, throwing in another lure.
"We'll think about it," Buck said.
"Very well. If you wish to find me again, I'll be here at the same time," the stranger said before leaving.
"I hate guys like that. They show up when you need something the most, and you can't just turn them away," Buck grumbled.
"What's the problem? We'll just refuse him," Kylen suggested.
"Didn't you hear him? He has connections to get us a discount, but he can also raise the price if we refuse," Buck replied, clearly in a bad mood.
"Maybe we should try to find a shipwright ourselves?" Kylen suggested.
"It's not like fixing a dinghy. We need skilled craftsmen, and those are rare. The rest are just con men who will cause your ship to fall apart," Buck replied.
"So, we have to agree to his terms?" Kylen asked, contemplating the problem at hand.
"To hell with it, we came here to relax. Let's put it off for now and think about it later," Buck said, trying to lift the mood with another drink.
Kylen remained silent. The thought of returning home crept into his mind. Maybe he could make it back, or maybe not. Still, he decided to help his friend and not abandon him in his time of need. He resolved to wait until they could get the ship repaired before considering his own departure.
The crew of the "Retribution" continued their revelry until the evening, and, barely able to stand, they made their way back to the ship. Kylen carried Buck on his shoulder. Buck had drunk so much he couldn't utter a single coherent word, let alone walk.
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