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CHAPTER FIVE

T he end didn’t come on the sands of The Levant.

It came before they even reached their destination.

The night the Earl of Somerset’s fleet left Calais, a storm rolled in from the west. At first, it wasn’t a terrible storm. The boats rocked and took on water, but it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be tossed out in one of the many bucket brigades organized for just such a thing. There was a pump, manned by the ship’s carpenter, that flushed out as much water as the ship took in but, at times, it was a losing battle. Down in the hold, the horses were up to their knees in salt water and the knights joined the bucket brigade to help remove the rising water.

The horses were nervous with the rolling of the ship, distracted by masters who fastened feedbags to their faces so they’d have something to munch on. But the water kept coming as the storm grew worse. The gentle rain and wind the first day turned into a pounding torrent and a tempest on the second.

And the third.

The fleet of the Earl of Somerset struggled through the weather, but it was impossible to gain much headway. The ships were rolling violently and the bucket brigades had fractured because no one could stand on such a rolling deck. Everyone had retreated for the most part except for some stalwart knights and squires who remained in the hold with their horses.

And the water kept rising.

On the morning of the fourth day, the storm was worse than before and the water in the hold was up to the chests of the horses. Some of the smaller animals were up to their necks, saved from drowning by swift-thinking squires. By the captain’s estimates, they were just off the coast of Dieppe, perhaps even closer to Le Havre, but he couldn’t be sure. They were hugging the Normandy coast, but the wind and waves were working against them. Instead of the situation improving, it was only growing more severe. No one wanted to think the worst, but conditions were terrible.

It was possible their quest would be over before it began.

Hallam had just come from the top deck where the captain was trying to keep his ship afloat. He pulled himself along the rolling deck, smashing into the bulkhead as he struggled to reach the area where Teague and the others were. When he finally spied Teague, on his hammock, he struggled towards him.

“Teague,” he said, grabbing hold of a support beam. “Two of the ships have already foundered. The Uriel went down with all hands not fifteen minutes ago. We spied horses swimming in the sea, but no men.”

Teague’s features were tight with concern. “What does the captain intend to do?”

Hallam wiped the rain off his face. “He’s trying to move closer to land,” he said. “He thinks… he thinks we may have to abandon ship if we want to survive.”

Teague grunted with the realization. “How close are we to land?”

“Close,” Hallam said. “When the lightning flashes, we can see the white of the chalk cliffs in the distance.”

In the distance . That meant men would have to swim that distance to make it to shore, and in a sea like this, that would be nearly impossible even for the strongest swimmer. Waves were crashing, the wind was howling, and the sea was churning as if stirred by some great, unseen hand.

The moment of truth was upon them.

Teague looked at his men. Sheen, Gilbert, William, Hallam, the squires… he could see the fear in their eyes. Especially Gilbert and William, both of whom couldn’t swim, and the squires were terrified. He couldn’t simply sit and wait for them all to drown. With Hallam’s report, he felt as if he had to take action.

He had to do something.

“Hallam,” he said. “Get the horses out of the hold. They’ve got to be up to their necks in water by now, so get them up to the top deck. All of you, go with him, and if anyone stops you, kill them. Get them out of that hold before they drown.”

The men started moving, rushing down to the hold where the horses were, indeed, up to their necks in cold sea water. They had a wild-eyed look of panic about them, and the men started moving them up the slippery, narrow ramp to the living level. It wasn’t an easy task because they were heavy beasts, and more than once they slipped back down the ramp, but the carpenter saw what the men were trying to do and he was determined to help.

Quickly, the carpenter and his apprentices hammered strips of wood along the ramp so the horses would have something to gain traction on. It worked; they were able to get all nine of their horses out of the hold and into the living level where men were huddled in prayer, crying out every time the ship rolled. But several other knights saw what Teague’s men were doing and they, too, went into the hold to save their horses.

Before long, every animal in the hold had been moved to the open deck as the elements lashed the boat. At least now they had a fighting chance and wouldn’t drown in the bowels of a ship that was beginning to list heavily to the port side. Teague was on deck with his silver charger, a horse he’d had for twenty years. Arion was his name. At least now, if the ship went down, the animals would have a chance to survive and swim to shore. He petted the big beast, silently apologizing for the hazard he’d brought upon him.

When the captain saw all of the men and animals coming onto the deck, he made his way from the rudder to find out why the animals had been brought to the top deck.

Teague saw him coming.

“How close to shore are we?” he yelled above the wind and rain.

The captain was a big man, round and ruddy, having fought the seas for almost four decades of his life.

“What are these animals doing up here?” he responded with a shout.

Teague blew rain out of his mouth. “They’ll drown in the hold,” he said. “It’s full of water.”

The captain shook his head. “You remove our ballast when you remove the animals,” he said. “You’ll make the ship top heavy with them on the deck. Get them back below!”

Teague stood his ground. “I’m not going to let these horses drown,” he shouted at the man. “Get us close to shore so we can take them off!”

The captain was quickly growing furious. “There are rocks towards the shore,” he bellowed over the storm. “They’ll tear the boat to pieces!”

Teague grabbed the man by the front of his tunic. “Look around you,” he boomed. “This cog is listing. She is going down whether or not you like it, so get us closer to shore so we at least have a chance to survive!”

The captain didn’t like being manhandled and took a swing at Teague, who easily ducked the punch and threw the man to the deck. Seeing the captain try to hit his brother, Sheen jumped on top of the captain and began throwing punches as Teague struggled to hold the panicking horses. William and Gilbert, sensing the captain was trying to get them all killed, went to the stern of the ship, knocked both rudder men out cold, and took hold of the rudder. Using brute strength, they managed to turn the ship and aim it for the shore.

At least now they were going in the right direction.

It was chaos on the Michael as men began to fight for their lives. So many of them were up on the deck now that it was listing dangerously. There was a full moon behind the clouds and every so often, light would fall upon the waves and show them just how terrible the storm was. There had been a fleet of twelve ships that had left London, but now they only counted eight. Four of them, including the Uriel , were gone. The Gabriel , off the starboard bow, was nearly on its side as the storm pummeled it into the sea, and the Rafael seemed to be far off the port side, heading for the shore.

All of them foundering.

Teague could see William and Gilbert wrestling with the enormous rudder, keeping the boat heading for the shore. Even so, he suspected they were going to end up in the water before they got close and he braced himself. He could swim, but so many others couldn’t, including his own men. He had no idea how he was going to save them and save himself. He couldn’t believe his trip to The Levant was about to end in a watery grave. Perhaps it was God’s will, angry that so many Christian men were flocking to The Levant to purge the infidels. Perhaps it was his way of punishing them for answering Richard’s call.

So many good men were about to be lost.

What was it he’d said to his wife?

My thoughts from this day until the moment I return will be only of you and our children. Memories of you will give me the strength I need to succeed.

If this was really where it was all going to end, he would have done better had he remained at home. If he was going to die in battle, at least that was a glorious death. An expected death. A death for a cause. But dying in the brutal sea, within sight of land, was a reckless waste of men and material.

In his clothing, against his chest, he could feel the purse with the doll that Tresta had given him.

Remember me.

God, his heart hurt.

But he couldn’t think of her at the moment. He had to think of surviving this event. The lightning flashed again and he could see the white chalk cliffs of the shore, closer than he thought they might be. They were far closer, which was good news considering how badly the ship was listing. Any further and it would be on its side.

He turned to look at William and Gilbert still at the rudder, directing the ship right for the shore. They were doing their best to get everyone close, to at least give them a chance to live. He admired his men greatly for that, knowing that any depth over their heads would more than likely kill them because they couldn’t swim, but the horses could. It was a natural instinct. If he could get them to a horse, then the animal could swim them ashore. He was about to make his way back to them when the boat struck something under the water.

One of those many jagged rocks the captain had warned them about.

Down they all went, into the roiling sea.