"This is the spot, and if it isn't may the Lord strike me dead," swore Savin. He glanced up at the heavens expectantly.

"Bang!" yelled a sailor in Savin's ear.

"That does it!" yelled Savin, kneeing the offending sailor in the stomach and pushing him over the railing into the sea. "Phyon, you're so good at swimming. Get down there and help him find that treasure," ordered Savin, pushing his first mate forward.

Phyon immediately followed orders. Climbing over the railing, he dove smoothly into the frigid sea. The two sailors started the slow process of diving down, searching the sea floor and resurfacing elsewhere for air.

"Find anything?" asked Wynic, somewhat anxious. He remembered that time meant lives.

"There's a sunken Vormian sip down there. You can tell from the steel hull, it must be in it," came the reply.

"Keep trying and search the entire ship if you can."

"Dere's several barrels and a cabinet down dere. Ve'll need some damn strong rope ta haul em up," hollered Phyon.

"The only good rope we have ist the rigging. If you use that we could be at a disadvantage if a patrol ship caught us," replied Savin.

"Why?" asked Wynic.

"Wir don't have any merchant papers, we need them to legally pass through Stornium waters," explained Savin.

"Well, couldn't the Crescent Moon outdistance a patrol ship?"

"Not a patrol ship, they're galleys and especially not without the riggings!"

"Could we use the chain from the anchor?"

"It will take longer, and that might increase the risk of getting caught. Ye habt ta pay ten platinum and they hang the captain," Savin shuddered.

"Well, then we'll take that chance and if they catch us, I'm the captain," reasoned Wynic.

"Okay, it's your life not mine."

"Or we could say we had just stopped to give the captain a sea burial."

"Hey, now that's a good idea! Only the captain knows where the papers are kept so we'd get away scot-free!"

"Roll those barrels into my cabin, quickly, and get dat chain back up before a patrol ship catches us," ordered Savin, scanning the horizon, worried. "Spare no man until we reach Blackaxe castle!" The barrels were immediately rolled into Savin's cabin, while another two sailors carried the cabinet. The anchor was reattached to the chain in what Wynic considered record time.

"Dis ist gehen ta be close captain," muttered Phyon.

"Why?"

"Dere's a ship off der starboard bow, und it's moving zer fast!"

"What?" cried Savin. "Double your speed men, there's a galley off the starboard bow!"

"Why don't we go out and meet them," suggested Wynic.

"Was? Are du kriezi?" screamed Savin, almost totally reverting to old Stornium.

"Er ist rictig captain," said Phyon. "If wir vent out ta meet dem und maken up something about just burying the captain, wir vould haben keinen problem.!"

Savin thought it over, grudgingly. "Okay, but I don't like it, pass the worte ta der sailors. One small slip, und wir would all be shark bait!"

"Guten tag, Commodore," yelled Wynic as the galley pulled alongside the Crescent Moon.

"Uh, tag," replied the commodore, slightly off balance from this unusual turn of events. He was a bit taller than Wynic, and lean. He had dark blond hair, cut short and combed back. He had inherited the Stornium nose, and dark eyes. He looked somewhat wild and untamed. This was someone Wynic had to respect, for he was obviously a veteran soldier and killer from the countless scars on his darkly tanned skin. He was wearing baggy black pants, and a dark yellow tunic. The other sailors wore white tunics, or at least they would have been white if they weren't smeared with dirt, sweat, and food.

"Bring the cabinet out here," Wynic ordered, trusting his instincts. He strained to keep a poker face.

"Vat are you doing?" whispered Savin.

"Trust me," replied Wynic, jumping across to the galley to stand beside the commodore. "Commodore, could you escort us to Lord Blackaxe? I'm a friend of his." asked the assassin.

"Depends. Wie heisst du?"

"General Wynic Doxon of the Royal Arthian Army," he replied. This uniform is starting to get handy, he thought.

The commodore's dark eyes flashed in recognition.

"Bring the cabinet over here," Wynic ordered. The sailors glanced at Savin who nodded. "Anybody got a mace I can borrow?" asked the assassin, looking around at the gathered officers.

"Lacid, give him your mace," ordered the commodore. An officer stepped forward and handed Wynic a huge steel mace.

"Danke," said Wynic in old Stornium, taking the mace. "Commodore, have you ever heard of Lord Blackaxe's search for the Swathick Axe?"

"Are you saying the mace is in there?" asked the commodore. His face was that of an expert poker player, yet his eyes flashed curiously.

"Blackaxe asked me to help him find it, so I sure hope it is," shrugged Wynic. He prayed the old fisherman was right and raised the huge mace as the two sailors set the cabinet down in front of the assassin.

Smashing the mace into the cabinet, Wynic heard the splintering of wood and a solid clang of metal against metal. Rubbing his shoulder from the force of the blow, he reached inside, and brought forth the Swathick Axe.

It wasn't much to look at. It was a plain non-descript Axe, the metal had turned gray with age.

"Das ist es?" blurted Savin in old Stornium.

"Only one way to find out, give me your broadsword," said Wynic. The pirate grudgingly threw over his broadsword. Swinging the Axe, which he noted was amazingly light, the two weapons collided, and sparks and metal chips went flying. He shielded his eyes with his free hand as he was showered with metal chips.

"You owe him a new sword," grinned the commodore. "The name ist Carlo, and you've got yourself an escort."

Wynic stared at the broken sword in wonder of the weapon he held. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the axe had sliced through it like a hot knife through butter. With no effort at all.

"Wynic, you tricked me," Savin accused later that night.

"Perhaps, but you got four barrels worth of gold, silver and platinum," replied Wynic. "Yet I don't get anything, infact, I'm minus a sword."

"Forget the sword, with those barrels, I could buy a whole fleet of ships," smiled Savin. "Or I could retire and live the life of luxury."

"Wynic?" came Carlo's now familiar voice at the door to the Savin's cabin.

"Ya?"

"Come out, both of you and take a look," said Carlo.

Wynic followed Savin, and ducked under the low door frame.

"Look at the horizon past the bow. Have you ever seen anything like that?" asked Carlo. Wynic noticed a tinge of fear in the commodore's voice.

"No," admitted the assassin, staring at the huge column of water rising from the sea far to the east.

"I have," replied Savin. "It was off the Minotaur Isles. I'm still not sure what causes it, but the minotaurs claim it is steam rising out of the sea whenever the Lord creates and hardens a new sword. It's called a waterspout. Sort of like a tornado, only at sea. More likely it's caused by the wind just like a hurricane.

"Should we steer clear of it?" asked Carlo, scratching his chin.

"Of course, that column can get smaller or larger. If we went too close to it, and it suddenly got bigger, we'd all drown. I suggest we stay at least two leagues away from it at all times."

"Captain Savin, the column is moving," shouted a sailor, urgently.

Savin and Wynic erupted from Savin's cabin and looked to where the column had been when they had last seen it. Sure enough, the column was now on the starboard side, having left a trail of frothing water and even a maelstrom.

"Why didn't someone tell me sooner?" demanded Savin.

"It moved very suddenly captain," replied a sailor. "It kind of slid."

"Now we're blocked to the north! Helmsman, steer her to the port, and go around it," Savin ordered. "If it does anything unusual again, get me out here so I can see!"

"The worst seems to be behind us," said Savin thankfully the next morning.

"We'll have to warn other ships to watch out for these columns," murmured Carlo, watching the column disappear on the horizon.

A sudden blast of wind rocked the two ships followed by a galactic wave that caused the most veteran sailors to fall to their knees. Crawling back up with Savin's help, Wynic looked around desperately for the cause. A second column was spreading out across the western horizon, and closing the vast distance between it and the two ships. the wind became turbulent, constantly changing directions, and even going down at one point, a truly unusual wind.

"Hurry men, raise the extra sails, we might have ta outdistance it," ordered Savin.

"Extra sails?" asked Wynic, as the sailors hastened to obey. He wondered what difference extra sails would do in such turbulent winds.

"An invention of mine, they're side sails that attach to the railings and the port holes," replied the pirate. "You can even steer with them if the stern's been damaged."

It seemed to Wynic that the ship sprouted wings on each side, and fairly flew across the waves like some great bird of prey.

"This ist zer hard on the ship's construction, we can only keep this up for about five hours or so, before she starts falling apart," murmured Savin.

"Let's hope we don't have to wait that long."

"Believe it or not, but we're in sight of Blackaxe Castle," said Carlo, the next morning. "And the column is now out of sight so we should be pretty safe."

"The poor girl's been shaken up pretty bad," murmured Savin, stroking the door frame lovingly. "I think she deserves some pampering for a while and some repairs."

"Your talking about pampering a ship?" asked Carlo confused.

"Yes, but I'm also talking about a beautiful lady, a moon goddess you might say," protested Savin, hurt.

"I'll explain it to you later, Carlo," said Wynic.

"Every captain develops a special bond with their ship, in a way they love them. Savin sees his ship as a beautiful lady, both fair and graceful. His ship is those things after all, so do you see the connection?"

"Yes, I think I do, it's sort of a devotion," replied Carlo.

"Exactly, that same devotion, gives him reason, leadership, and a willing to sacrifice himself for the ship, and it's crew," explained Wynic.