Within the Pillars of Hercules

The Kiona’s hull sliced neatly through the batting waves, her sails pulling forward with the ceaseless breath of the northwestern winds. The boards of the ship hummed beneath Carrice Leon’s feet, interlaced with the rhythmic beating of 170 oars against serene waters. In the distance, white spires were beginning to peak just above the starboard horizon, a shimmering beacon in the endless blue. They were making good time, despite the previous day’s storm. Carrice looked up to find the sun high in the sky. “Starboard side, in-oars!” Her voice boomed across the length of the deck, ringing clear over the wind and waves below. The crew manning the right side of the deck clattered their oars into oarlocks as the port side continued to row in perfect synchrony. Carrice nodded to herself as the soft wood of the helm’s wheel glided smoothly against her hands, nudging the Kiona further starboard. “Oars in,” she commanded; more clattering of oars onto the deck ensued. The ship was running with the wind. Why not show off a little and sail in. [excerpt