+Events of Stormy Weather+

Emmaline gasped for air as the ship pitched precipitously beneath her. The weather had gotten worse, much worse while the two of them had been completely focused on each other. Beyond the transom window great flashes of light lit the blackness, though it was still but early evening and the sea rose in long rolling gray waves. Emmaline opened her mouth to whisper some endearment to Amal but was interrupted by a sudden thunder of feet outside the door. The door rattled as someone tried to force it but Amal's dagger prevented access.

"Open up!" someone shouted but then, without waiting for a response, there was crash and the door flew inward off its hinges as a heavy boot crashed into the jam. The flying timber struck Amal across the back and sent him sprawling. Sailors rushed into the room, soaked to the skin and eyes so wide they were completely rimmed with white. Their faces were ashern and their visages grim. Two of them grabbed Emmaline and dragged her toward the door, oblivious or uncaring of her nakedness.

"Let me go!" she shouted as she was dragged towards the door.

"Throw her over the side or the storm will take us all!" the leader, one of the men who had been on the forecastle earlier shouted. At that moment Emmaline's staff which, despite the pitching of the deck, had remained propped in in the corner of the room toppled over. It struck one of the men holding her and he screamed as a hissing cobra struck at his neck with razored fangs. He let go of Emmaline and struck at the snake but it was already nothing more than an ornate staff tangling his inept blows. Amal leaped to his feet, the attackers were motivated by panic and, perhaps still thinking of him as meek satrap, hadn't thought to deliver a coup de grace. The thief, also still naked, seized a piece of the shattered door and swept the legs out from underneath one of the sailors before reversing his grip and knocking the man senseless with an almost musical 'thunk'. The man bitten by the staff had dropped to the ground, froth flecking his lips as he began to convulse.

Cold air assaulted Emmaline's naked body as she was dragged kicking and screaming up the stairs and onto the deck. Sheets of cold rain slapped her and the keening wind rose from a dull howl to a roar that blew out her air like a banner. The sky above was roiling darkness lit almost continually by flashes of lightning and great crashing booms of thunder. The rigging, so organized and neat a few hours before was a tangled shambles. One of the foremasts had been torn away by the sudden and unexpected wind and had dragged half the cables down into a tangle rats nest with its destruction. Crewmen frantically hacked at cables with axes, trying to free the shattered yard so they could get it overboard. Up on the quaterdeck Diego stood white knuckled, shouting orders that were largely ignored in the panic. The deck rose up and plunged down into the troughs sending great sheets of spray up over the decks, paradoxically warm compared to the hammering rain.

"What are you doing?" Garza demanded as the man dragging Emmaline all but trampled him. The pudgy first mate looked grim but calm despite the storm and the sudden appearance of a naked woman on deck.

"Mannan will take us if she dosen't go over the side!" the sailor yelled, struggling to make himself heard over the gale. Garza opened his mouth to object but the fellow struck the first mate with his free hand sending him reeling an dragged Emmaline towards the railing. There was a sudden crack as lightning hit one of the remaining masts, the flash and boom simultaneously. Pieces of charred timber and smoking embers rained down on the deck like a rain from one of the Hells depicted in the passion plays.