Pierre, the dead swab as speaks for Zakki has appeared upon the Maelstrom. He bespake us to follow on the heading he gives to us. The Cap'n gives the nod to this, though I can see tis like to drive bodkin through his hand to do it. Within hours the Maelstrom comes upon a vortex the likes o' which no sailor would wish to see and we sail straight into it.
The Maelstrom in a maelstrom.
Stilgar holds us true. The whirlpool whips us round about like a child playin' crack the whip. I wonder what will happen when this whip cracks. The ship is near standin on its beam and I can see the water spout a whirlin' like Poseidon's own top beneath us. Tis bright noon and I can bespy the bottom of the spout some three fathoms below. The Cap'n ordered all the green hands below decks afore we came into the maelstrom. There'll be a fearsome vileness in the hold, and no mistake, but at least we need not watch as any of Winston's wee orphans plummet to their deaths. Murgosis, Dagon and I strain agin' the lines and the Maelstrom is fair screamin' beneath us. Her boards buck and groan as we spin faster and wilder. She's a fair ship and well made still I wonder if she will hold.
Round and round we spin in ever smaller circles till I spy the tip o' the mizzen fair touch the watery wall on the far side of the spout. The spray comin' off of that wall is like a knife and it rips the main sheet like wet foolscap and now tis all I can do to cling to Murgosis as he holds fast to the capstan. The Maelstrom is roarin' now like some foul serpent ripped from the depths. The scent of Murgosis is mingled with salt spray and my own fear. I look high above us at the bright blue sky and suddenly it winks out and the water closes o'er us.
With a twist that I feel from me teeth through me toes, the world whips around us and a with a 'pop', for all the world like god's own ale cork, we come to rest a bobbin' on a dark sea. Above me the sky is dark as midnight and the stars glint down all cold and uncarin'. I look up at Stilgar at the wheel. Coo, thinks I, he is a firm one and true, his knuckles is white as ivory on the wheel but he did no loose his grip. We've come through the vortex and out the other side. I cling to Murgosis for a moment longer lovin' the hot sweet smell of him. I feel his great hand reach around me and caress my the small of my back. No matter where so e'er I go, no matter what sorcery this world or the next comes agin' me, the one thing I know is Murgosis will always be here. I've found me strength and safe harbor and I hold the warm life of him.
"Little one you can release me now." says me great bull headed sovereign. But I don't just yet and I know I never will.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
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