Rising tide - Mel Odom [23]
After surfacing, Jherek allowed himself only two quick breaths to recharge his aching lungs, then struck out for Butterfly. He watched deckhands hang oil lamps along the starboard side of the cog, their first line of defense against the sea devils. The sahuagin fear of fire held them back at first, and the brightness of the light hurt their eyes.
He overtook Yeill while she was still seventy yards from the cog. The young Amnian woman struggled, barely keeping her face above the water. When he came up on her from behind, she screamed in fear and turned around to swat at him with her hands. As a result, she went down at once.
Jherek grabbed her, wrapping an arm under her jaw as they both sank. He returned the knife to his shin sheath, secured his grip on her, and pulled them both back up. "Stop fighting," he commanded in a rough voice, hoping to get through her fear.
"Jherek?" she gasped, looking up at him.
"Hang on," he told her.
She spat water and snuffled as she cried, "There are fish men attacking the ship."
He felt sorry for her then, in spite of everything else she'd done to him that day. For all her posing and wealth, she remained yet a child. "They haven't taken her," he replied, "and they won't."
"Jherek!" a voice called from above as Butterfly bore down on them. She was coming fast enough that white caps rolled along her bow.
"Here!" he shouted back, blinking his eyes to clear them of the saltwater.
"Valkur's brass buttons, boy," the sailor yelled down. "Jumping in shark-infested waters like that, you must figure you got some kind of charmed life. I tell anybody that back home, they're going to chase me out of the tavern for telling tall tales. I hadn't seen it myself, I'd have called the man who told me about it a liar."
Jherek kept swimming. He'd never fully understood the things that moved him, but he knew what he couldn't do, and he couldn't have left the woman to die.
"Skiff's coming down, but we're keeping it tied up. Watch 'er as she comes down."
"Come ahead," Jherek said, treading water and watching Butterfly's approach, knowing it was going to be a near thing.
The skiff dropped down the side of the cog, the lines whirring through the pulleys. The little boat landed on the water with a flat smack that threw a wave of cold water over Jherek. Thinking she was going under again triggered another panic attack on Yeill's part. Jherek held her, speaking calmly to her as soon as their heads were above water again.
He reached out and grabbed the skiffs edge, feeling his bruised shoulder muscles writhe in agony as they took the sudden drag.
"I've got her, lad." Old Cowey, the sailor with the most seniority on Butterfly, took Yeill's wrist in his gnarled, scarred hand. He pulled her aboard the leaping skiff, dragged along through the cog's wake.
Jherek let the woman go, then caught the skiff's edge with his other hand and pulled himself aboard. He stepped over Yeill, who lay scared and shivering in the bottom of the skiff.
"Haul away," Jherek yelled up to the men manning the skiff's lines.
They started pulling at once, bringing the small craft up. They alternately railed against him and congratulated him on his success in saving the girl. The general consensus seemed to be that he'd gone insane, and everyone knew the gods favored those too stupid to save themselves.
Jherek didn't wait for them to tie the skiff off, knowing Cowey would take care of his charge. The young sailor leaped up and caught the hauling ropes and climbed. Level with the cog's railing, he swung his body out and landed lithely on the deck.
He scanned the opposite railing, seeing Finaren and the ship's crew hard pressed to defend against boarders. Despite the difference