Read Online A King's Ransom by Sharon Kay Penman - Free Book Online Page A

later was not as savage as the one that had stranded them on La Croma, but it proved to be longer-lasting. For three days, the Sea-Serpent was battered by the waves and wind, pelted with sleet. The men slept little, ate less, gulped syrup of ginger to calm their heaving stomachs, and prayed—not just to the saints they’d drawn, but to every saint they could remember. The wind was cold and fierce and Spyro, the helmsman, told them it was a bora, which swept down from the inland mountains and wreaked havoc during the winter months. Shivering in their wet clothes, Richard’s knights crouched miserably in the tent and longed for Zadar the way they’d been told infidels yearned for Mecca.
    They’d been driven far out to sea by the bora, had not seen land for two days. When Richard demanded to know how much farther to Zadar, Georgios reluctantly admitted that the port was lost, far behind them. Unnerved by the English king’s volcanic outburst, which put him in mind of Sicily’s Mountain of Fire, he assured Richard that there was another Hungarian port at Pula and they could put in there once the winds decreased and Spyro could use his navigational aid, a magnetized needle stuck in a sliver of cork that, when floated in a bucket of water, always pointed north. Sailors relied upon the stars and landmarks to chart their course, he reminded Richard, neither of which were now available to Spyro. As soon as the weather cleared, they would land at Pula or they could sail back to Zadar if that was the king’s wish. He sounded very matter-of-fact and confident, but he had no answer when Richard asked what would happen if the storm did not slacken soon.
    On the third day, they finally glimpsed land, only it was on the larboard side of the galley. As they realized they were gazing at the Italian coast, the men were shocked that they’d been swept so far off course. That distant shoreline soon disappeared and once more they could see nothing but sea and sky. Georgios promised again that they would head for a Hungarian port after they escaped the bora’s accursed clutches. He made the wind sound like a malevolent entity, capable of malice, and few of Richard’s men would argue with him at that point.
    When the storm was finally over, the men on the Sea-Serpent , passengers and crew alike, were too exhausted to rejoice; the most they could muster was numbed relief. Spyro consulted the sailing needle and adjusted the ship’s course. But they did not have long to savor their reprieve, for a few hours later, calamity struck. The first indication Richard had that something had gone very wrong was a sudden shout, followed by a burst of profanity; even though he spoke no Greek, there was no mistaking the tone. Hastening out on deck, he found the pirates clustered around the tiller, all talking at once in an obvious panic.
    “Petros! What has happened?”
    The young sailor usually thrived on danger and chaos. Now, though, he just looked scared. “God help us, lord, for we’ve lost the rudder! It is not responding to the tiller!”
    Petros went on to say that it must have been damaged by the constant pounding of the waves, or else it had become entangled in seaweed or a fishing net. Richard was no longer listening, for an alarming image was flashing before his eyes—a crippled Saracen ship, floundering helplessly after some of his sailors had dived into the water and tied ropes around its rudder, disabling it so their galleys could attack. Without its rudder, a ship was unable to steer, at the mercy of the waves and wind.

    F OR ANOTHER DAY, the Sea-Serpent was carried along by the current, the men aboard praying, for there was not much else they could do. But the next morning Spyro woke them by yelling for Georgios, and Petros told them that there was land ahead, explaining that the changing color of the sea meant a river estuary. They clung to the gunwale, staring intently at the horizon, cheering when they heard the distant echoes of