Chapter 14: Gale Winds

"We can't change the sails!" Chen Jiao said hurriedly.

Lei Sanxiang also shouted loudly: "Brother Lin, the enemy ship is to the north—we should flee south!"

Lin Qian said in a loud voice: "Change the sails!" As he spoke, he turned the rudder to the right.

At this moment, the wind blowing across the sea was from the northeast. Sailing south meant running with the wind at an angle; sailing east meant beating against it at an angle.

Changing sails meant turning the sails to suit the new wind angle—a delicate operation requiring the sail-trimmers to coordinate with the helmsman and turn simultaneously.

If one turned the rudder early without changing sails, the ship could well be blown over on its side.

By turning the rudder early, Lin Qian was forcing the sail-trimmers to change sails.

The sail-trimmers hesitated for a moment after all, and changed the sails a little late. The ship was blown into a sharp tilt by the gale, the mast letting out a series of teeth-grinding creaks, and the deckhands all rolled toward the port side—a moment of utter disarray.

Catalina, firmly lashed to the mast, on the other hand came through unscathed and laughed loudly in mockery.

"Sixth Brother, have you lost your mind?" Chen Jiao roared.

"Just watch, Eldest Brother," Lin Qian said coolly. "Say any more, and you may well damage our brotherhood."

The implicit threat in his words was not lost on Chen Jiao, who gave a cold snort and fell silent.

After the time it takes an incense stick to burn, the lookout shouted: "Enemy ship turning southeast—off the rear starboard quarter."

The Fujian junk turned at right angles, while the San Felipe cut across at an oblique angle. Their ship was faster to begin with, and the distance was shorter—an hour later, they were less than five li from the Fujian junk.

After another meal's time, less than three li remained.

By now, the sky had gone completely dark.

The waves ran high and the wind blew fierce; faint rumbles of thunder rolled from the sky.

Lei Sanxiang took out his matchlock musket and kept blowing on the fuse to keep it burning; the other deckhands also grabbed their weapons.

Bailangzai carried a wakizashi and stood guard beside Lin Qian.

Catalina's view was blocked by the sterncastle, so she could not see the San Felipe—but from the deckhands' reactions, she could tell what was happening.

"Pirates! Surrender to the great Spanish Navy! You will not hang—I promise you."

"I, Catalina Fajardo de Mendoza, solemnly swear that if you surrender, you will be sent back to your own homes."

Unfortunately, none of the deckhands understood a word she said.

Catalina could only say, in halting Chinese: "Surrender... surrender quickly..."

"Boom! Boom! Boom..."

A burst of cannon fire sounded in the distance; moments later, a towering column of water erupted several hundred paces from the Fujian junk.

The water column fell, and seawater drifted over on the wind—the Fujian junk was doused in a cold, salty rain.

Lin Qian looked astern. The San Felipe was less than two li away now, and he could see the dense ranks of soldiers on her deck.

By now the San Felipe's hull had come directly astern of the Fujian junk, yet she had not turned due east—she held her northeast course.

With the naked eye one could see that all the gunports on the San Felipe's starboard side were open, each thrusting out a dark, yawning muzzle.

"They're showing off their strength," Chen Jiao muttered.

Lin Qian smiled faintly: "No—it's a bluff. They can't catch us anymore."

Chen Jiao gave a bitter smile, clearly not believing Lin Qian's words.

But an hour later, the San Felipe's lanterns had visibly drawn farther away.

A Western square-rigged ship could not sail at an angle of less than sixty degrees between course and wind—otherwise it could only tack in zigzags.

Just as the San Felipe was doing now: she sailed northeast for a stretch, then turned southeast.

The Fujian junk's Chinese-style hard sails, by contrast, could beat against the wind at a small angle, and changing sails was also a simpler operation.

In efficiency of sailing against the wind, she was clearly superior to a Western square-rigger.

It was precisely because Lin Qian knew the strengths and weaknesses of both that he had decided to turn east.

Just as Lin Qian had said, the San Felipe's lanterns wavered uncertainly between the Fujian junk's port and starboard sides—but no matter what, she could not close the distance. Instead, she fell farther and farther behind.

The San Felipe's lanterns grew ever fainter across the sea, until they vanished into the darkness.

When the lookout called out, "The enemy ship has withdrawn!" all the deckhands aboard burst into cheers.

Listening to the cheers around her, Catalina was full of regret. Her deep brown eyes burned with hatred as she stared fixedly at Lin Qian behind the helm.

Unfortunately, this was no time to relax.

The wind over the sea was now growing stronger and stronger; the waves rose several chi high, and raindrops the size of beans suddenly came crashing down.

The wind direction abruptly shifted from northeast to northwest.

All at once, the world was filled with the sound of wind, the roar of waves, the pounding of rain on the sea—a continuous thunder of noise that shook the heart.

"It... it seems the Dragon King of the Sea is turning over..." one of the deckhands whispered.

Fear appeared on every face—even greater than when they had been pursued by the Spanish.

"Third Granny is coming to collect souls..." Bailangzai's face went deathly pale. The Tanka boat people aboard fell to their knees in a row, kowtowing endlessly toward the sea.

"You damned pirates, you cowards—now you know fear?" Catalina's face was drained of all color and her lips trembled ceaselessly, yet she kept on taunting.

Rumble—!

Muffled thunder rolled in from the edge of the sky, resounding across the eight directions and four seas.

The ocean surface boiled; waves that had been but a few chi high moments before suddenly reared up over a zhang.

In the light of the lightning, the pitch-black towering waves looked like the maws of giant whales.

"It's a typhoon..." Even Chen Jiao, experienced and well-traveled as he was, trembled all over.

Typhoon was what the Great Ming called a hurricane. Though it was a natural phenomenon, the people of the Great Ming were superstitious about gods and Buddhas to begin with, and those who sailed the seas were even more so. Seeing such a cataclysm of heaven and earth, they were instantly seized with terror.

The wind and waves had risen too fast; for a moment all the deckhands panicked, dropping to their knees and kowtowing toward the sea.

"Course due south, wind on the starboard side—turn the rudder and change sails!" In the midst of the howling gale and torrential rain, Lin Qian shouted.

No one moved.

Lin Qian wiped the rain from his face and shouted, "Anyone who doesn't want to die, get up off the deck—I'll lead you out of here! Change the sails!"

Hearing Lin Qian's shout, several of his brothers found their anchor, cursing and shoving as they got the sail handlers to their feet to change the sails.

"No good, we're going too fast—lower to half sail." Lin Qian called out loudly.

The sail handlers, soaked through, struggled to lower the sails on the slick deck.

"Still too fast—lower them again!" Lin Qian said.

The wind howled fiercely now, blowing at force thirteen or above; at this speed, the ship could easily plunge headfirst into a wave and be smashed to pieces with all hands lost.

"Ahh!" A sail handler's foot slipped, and he was blown over the starboard rail by the gale, letting out a piercing scream before vanishing in an instant into the churning black water.

"Everyone tie yourselves down with rope!" Lin Qian shouted, at the same time lashing himself to the helm with a length of cable.

The wind grew even fiercer, raindrops striking their faces like knives, making their skin sting, forcing their eyes into narrow slits until they could barely see.

Boom!

A bolt of thunder crashed down, striking the sea not far away, the air filled with fine spiderweb-like arcs of electricity.

By the flash of the lightning, the crew saw, farther out on the sea, five or six crooked black pillars standing between sea and sky.

Boom!

Another flash of lightning streaked by, and the black pillars in the distance writhed and twisted, gradually merging into one—roughly a hundred zhang tall and over ten zhang thick, truly like a pillar propping up the heavens.

If Mount Buzhou truly existed in this world, it could be no more than this.

The surrounding seawater gathered around the black pillar, spiraling upward along it, reaching all the way to the heavens.

"It's a waterspout—a dragon drinking." Someone gasped in a low voice.

"Third Granny, protect us..."

"Mazu, save me..."

"I sought... the Lord, and He answered me, and delivered me from all my fears..." Catherine closed her eyes, her chest heaving violently, praying ceaselessly, every few words cut off by the seawater and rain slapping against her face.

"Everyone get low and hold on tight!" Lin Qian roared.

Before his eyes, a wall of giant waves came surging, as if the entire sea had been overturned before the ship.

Fortunately, the Fujian junk was not moving fast, and was gradually lifted to the crest of the wave, then the hull began to tilt downward.

At that moment, a terrifying sight appeared before everyone's eyes.

Yahei

Fenyuan

Pen