Chapter VII: Arya I – Thirst

The sun was scorching the deck of the Sea Wolf. From the shade of the quarterdeck, Arya took stock of the situation: no breeze; the sails hung limply from the masts; the men were hiding in the shade too, conserving energy and water; her tongue felt like sandpaper; they were low on food. Her first mate had told her last night that the only option was to turn back. She hated the thought of giving up. If it had been just her …

“When the wind picks up, we turn back east,” she ordered.

The men sighed in relief.

Fin

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