Crispin_ At the Edge of the World - Avi [40]
“Perhaps,” I offered, “it’s the end of the sea.”
Bear shrugged, and turned to survey the cog. I followed his gaze. We were still moving, but very slowly. Oddly enough, the cog was in perfect order. All that had been loose had been washed away. Bear’s dagger—gone. Our sack with the recorder—gone. Our fire-making tools—gone. There was just the mariner lying there. Bear went to him, and put a hand on his chest.
“Is he alive?” I called.
Bear’s response was to make the sign of the cross and back away.
“Where are the others?” Troth asked.
Bear shrugged. “Lost. Swept over.” He began to wander about the boat looking for what I knew not.
Troth and I remained side by side at the rail, gazing up at the cliffs. The cog, eased on by a rising tide, was drawing closer to the cliffs. Three times we struck rocks. Each time the cog recoiled, only to edge further in, the ship’s hull making a scraping noise. Finally, there came a harsh, grinding sound as the cog’s keel struck bottom, sounding like the rattling breath of a dying man.
The ship shuddered. It seemed to settle. We stopped moving. All that remained of the torturous journey was a gentle rocking which matched the wash of waves. These waves flicked against the ship like kitten tongues as though to soothe the remnants of our terror.
“There’s the top!” I cried as the mist lifted further. The cliffs reached some two hundred feet over our heads.
It was possible now to see that the cog was in a little inlet, a finger of the sea, surrounded on three sides by rock. At the lower levels of the cliff I could see boulders piled high. The boat—with us upon it—had been nudged there by the movement of the ocean, wedged between the high stone walls with no room for turning about.
Bear went to the bow of the boat. “Even the anchor is gone,” he announced.
“Will the boat stay?” I wondered.
“We’ve been brought in by a rising tide,” said Bear. “I suppose the tides could pluck her out again.”
“Will the other mariners be found?” asked Troth. She was looking down at the dead one.
“Not in this world,” said Bear. “Are you as exhausted as I?” he asked.
We both nodded.
“Thirsty and hungry, too, I suppose.” Bear went to the hatch, and labored to pry it open. We worked with him, pulling out the caulking. Once we managed to get it open, Bear stuck his head down.
“Dry as stone,” he announced. “That caulking saved us. If the hold had flooded … But unless we eat wool there’s no food.”
“Was there a rudder?” I asked.
“I don’t see one. I think I saw another sail.”
“What will we do?” I asked, my voice hushed.
Bear looked out on the shore. “We’d best get off while we can. My feet would like to find some solid soil. Then we’ll need to climb those cliffs to learn where God has brought us.”
“What about him?” I said, indicating the dead mariner.
“The living first,” said Bear.
He clambered over the cog’s side, and dropped heavily into the water with a splash. As it reached his waist, I could see him shiver with the chill. Turning, he let Troth jump down into his outstretched arms, set her on his shoulders, and waded toward the shore.
I leaped after them, feet first. The cold water clutched my chest and squeezed my breath away.
Walking as best I could, I followed after Bear, arms over my head. It was rocky beneath the water, forcing me to go1 5 2with care, seeking my balance as best I could. Once I slipped, and for my pains was soaked to my hair and draped in weeds.
Closer in, Bear set Troth atop a huge boulder upon which he pulled himself. The two began to make for real land, crawling and walking toward the shore, jumping from stone to stone. I came after, pausing now and again to look up at the cliffs, wondering how we would climb them.
We reached the shore. The beach was a narrow, rocky place, embedded with great boulders—no doubt fallen from above. Bowls of fine sand lay between. Seaweed was abundant. White oyster shells were scattered everywhere. With each passing moment, the air cleared further, revealing blue sky and a warm, bright sun. Birds called like rasping angels. Though it seemed odd