“I don’t understand...” He mumbled in confusion.
“You’re not supposed to.” Selene smiled radiantly and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I believe that you have a boat waiting for you?”
“All right everybody, listen up.” The small crowd gathered in front of the gate. “Call out when I say your name, and then step through the gate. Aileen Cronin.”
“Here, sir.” She stepped forward and disappeared through the yawning black doorway.
“Megan Tighe.”
“Here, sir.” She was smiling as she stepped forward.
“Ryanne Keegan.”
“Here, sir.”
“Grady McMullan.”
“Present.”
“Bel D’ Alton.”
“Here, Logan.” Logan noted that she had her crossbow strapped to her overly large pack.
“Tiana Crowe.”
“Here, sir.” She too had her crossbow.
“Maeve Stella.”
“Yes, sir.” With a grin she was gone.
“Max Eakins.”
“Right here, Mister Logan, sir.” The stocky youth stepped forward, and Logan noted the slump-shouldered, almost defeated set of the boy’s shoulders. Hopefully this trip would help the lad recover from the trauma of his brother’s death.
“Padraig Hansen.”
“Right here, Logan.” The man stepped forward, rubbing the place on his cheek where the long deforming scar had been. Fiona, the man’s K’Dreex advisor, had taken care of it almost immediately, and Logan was amazed at the transformation that one simple action created. Padraig Hansen looked to be a true aristocrat, with flowing dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and long, saturnine face ending in a well-trimmed Van Dyke beard. He didn’t know how Hansen would take the transformation, but the women of the squad were certainly interested.
The room was empty now, except for Kirby and Selene.
“Take care of yourself.” Kirby said gruffly, not meeting Logan’s eyes. “I don’t want this bloody job forever.”
“But you’re so good at it.”
“Aw screw you.” Tam took the bite out of his words by clasping Logan’s hand tightly. “Be well.” He turned and left the room without a backward glance.
Selene came up and put her hand on his shoulder. “I won’t say goodbye, Logan MacKennit. Just farewell, until we meet again. Take care of yourself, and don’t worry about the kids. I’ll take good care of them.” Her kiss was surprisingly chaste.
Their transportation was sitting at the end of a long pier, one of two in the small fishing village. Dark skies were heavy with unshed rain, and the winds cold and harsh, flaying both body and spirit. Houses in the village were built out over the water, on rickety stilts, with each house sporting its own small brightly painted dory. Here and there rotting poles stood up out of the dark brackish water to show where the previous residences had perched, before they collapsed. Smells of rotting fish and seaweed made his eyes water.
Logan was told by a solemn faced man who turned out to be their ship captain, that the fishermen and their families were safe enough, because the monsters couldn’t swim. Storms were their biggest worry.
The ship was sixty feet long and ten feet wide, had a tall mast with furled sail and oars set along the sleek sides. At the tapered bow and stern the fishermen had carved a fanciful, if monstrous figurehead and long spiked tail.
Logan studied the red-eyed creature gracing the bow. “What the hells is that thing, man?”
The fisherman chuckled. “Ain’t cha never seen a dragon befer?”
“I can’t say that I have.” He looked out over the lead colored sea. “Are they common hereabouts?” He tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice.
“Nah. They be open ocean beasties, or so I heered.” The sailor stared openly at the assortment of musical instruments the men and women were loading on the boat. “You bards?”
“Troubadours. After the last attack on the city we decided to find someplace safer to ply our trade. Monsters don’t appreciate good music,” Logan proclaimed grandly.
“Sure are mighty funny musicians.” The man frowned as he watched the weapons being loaded and secured.
“Dangerous times, my friend.”
“Mebby.” The weathered man replied darkly. “Ope yer boys an girls are set te do a bit of rowin. We all work on my ship.”
Logan groaned. “We’ll all do our share, including me.”
“Oh, no, laddie. Ye’ll not row.” His grin was feral. “Ye’ll navigate. That’s some harder.”
“But I don’t know anything about navigation.” Logan said desperately.
“Ye’ll learn. I cain’t stay awake all the time, so ye’ll be my assistant.”
“Oh, that’s just peachy I can’t bloody wait.” Logan turned and tossed his belongings onto the deck, and then stopped and looked forward and aft. “Isn’t there a cabin on this tub?”
“Watch yer mouth, boy.” The captain snarled in reply, as he cast off a line. “We rig a canvas cover in the stern so we have a dry place to sleep.” The bow of the ship began to swing out to face the sea.
“But you don’t have it up, yet.” There was a nervous quaver in Logan’s voice as the filling sail made the deck list dangerously.
“We only put it up in bad weather.” The sailor gripped the tiller and grinned up at the lowering clouds. “This is good weather.” He patted the gunwale affectionately. “Welcome to the Seabird, Logan MacKennit.”
It had been days since he’d heard Jade’s mental voice, and he envied her the ability to retreat into her own warm secure world. He clenched his jaws to stop his teeth from chattering. The operative word there was warm. It had started to spit sleet almost the minute they left the shallow muddy harbor and now, twenty one days later, it didn’t show any signs of quitting.
True to his word, Captain Kellic and his dozen sailors had put up the small canvas shelter at the rear of the boat, so that those off watch could sleep out of the elements... somewhat.
Logan pulled the thick woolen blanket up to his chin and tried, without much success, to burrow his head into his lumpy sodden pack. He’d been at the tiller all night, and he was exhausted and chilled to the bone, but he couldn’t sleep. The members of the squad seemed to be holding up better than he. Rowing for eight hours warmed the watch on duty, while the rest cowered beneath the thin canvas cover and watched the windswept sea flow by.
Logan asked with a certain amount of surprise.
Things had certainly changed, that much was evident. Her space was like a quaint cottage turned inside out, with all the rooms on the outside of the building. The forest he had seen outside the window of her small room the last time was still there, but sitting in front of it was a lush green meadow. The inside-out cottage sat in the center of the meadow, a good hundred yards from the forest.
A quick glance showed him an ornate four poster bed, separated only by a sheer curtain from the kitchen, dining and living areas. A tall chimney rose from the center of the structure, with a large circular fireplace shared by all the rooms. The wood shingled roof that covered the open sided rooms gave the whole thing a quaint, rustic charm. Very faintly he smelled something delicious baking.
Logan stopped and stared.
He squeezed the shadowy hand that still he
ld his.
Logan frowned.
Jade sat down, picked up a muffin and took a big bite. A drop of blueberry juice rolled down her chin and Logan chuckled.
Logan laughed.
She picked up her tea cup, took a dainty sip and rose, turning to stare out over the lush meadow filled with swooping birds and humming bees.
“Wake up, damn your eyes!” The voice was shouting at him. He winced as a toe caught him in the ribs.
“All right already. I’m awake. What’s the problem?”
“The problem is, me sleepin beauty, that we have pirates on our tail.”
“What?” Logan glanced astern, and sure enough, there was another long lean warboat coming up on them, slicing through the moss water maybe a half a mile distant. The red striped sails looked like ribbons of blood in the early morning sun. In addition to the sails the sweeps were out too, driving the attacker ahead at an incredible rate. The dull boom of a drum, setting the pace for the sweeps, echoed across the narrowing stretch of water.
“Can we outrun them?” Logan was on his feet, digging for the sword buried under his pack.
“Mebby, but probably not. By the time we seen em, comin out a the morning fog, it was already too late.”
“But what can we do?”
“We kin die like men, laddie.” The Captain seemed to sag. “They be fightin men, and we be but sailors.”
Logan frowned. “I have another option. Let’s make THEM die like men.”
“What?” The weathered sailor stood speechless.
“Listen up, Marines.” Logan tried to pitch his voice so that it wouldn’t carry beyond the boat. “The pirates don’t know that we’re aboard. Get your weapons ready and wait for them to grapple, then cut them down.” Logan noted ten feral grins. “Bel and Tiana. Get back to the stern and hide behind the side. You two take out the helmsman and the pirate captain just as soon as they come along side. An attacking force doesn’t do too well without a leader, I’ve found. After you’ve taken out those two, keep a lookout for anyone on the other boat giving orders. Kill him too. Remember this, ladies. It’s them or us now, and it’s a long swim back to Reachrainn.” His gaze swung. “Maeve, you take your staff and protect the two women with the crossbows. Just as soon as the other ship sees what they’re doing they’ll try and cut them down. Clear?” The brown haired woman just nodded, but her eyes were bright and excited. “The rest of us will wait until they board and cut them down. When we’ve finished with the boarders we take out the rest of the pirate crew. Sergeant Kirby taught me to never leave a live enemy at your back. Are there any questions?” The squad was silent. “Then get your weapons and get ready, but keep the gear out of sight.”
“You’ve done this thing before.” Kellic was standing with his hands on his hips, face red and angry.
“You might say that.” He pointed to the staring sailors. “You might have your men run out a couple of sweeps, clumsy like, and others fumble with cutlasses and belaying pins. It’ll give the other crew something to laugh at—right until we cut them down, that is.”
“You’re a cruel man, Logan MacKennit.”
“No, I’m a military leader. My responsibility is to my squad and to those under my protection, and right now that means you. Your men, Captain?”
The sailors on the Seabird fumbled and hesitated. Two sweeps came out on one side, three on the other. The rowing was erratic and unproductive. They really didn’t want to get away, after all. As the pirate ship closed in, Logan, hiding below the gunwale, heard the laughter of the pirates.
“Ho, Kellic.” A voice called across the rapidly narrowing stretch of water. “I thought that you ran a taught ship.” More laughter.
“New crew.” The Seabird’s captain called back. “What can I say?”
“You can say that you surrender. We might even let you live.”
Kellic rubbed his jaw as he stared at the other captain, across no more than fifty feet of water now. “I think that you’ll have to work for it.”
The other face hardened. “Then you will die, along with your crew.” There was a grinding crash as the two hulls ground together amid the sound of splintering wood. “At em, boys!” It was the last thing the pirate captain said. In the next second a crossbow bolt grew out of his forehead, and he slumped to the deck.
Pandemonium ruled. If the pirates had pushed forward to the deck of the Seabird, they might have had a chance to sue for mercy. As it was, they froze as the Marines jumped up, and they died. Logan saw one man leap toward the women with the crossbows. The whirring staff took him across the head. The unconscious body fell between the hulls. Logan parried an awkward thrust and took the man’s arm off neatly at the elbow.
Suddenly it was over. Padraig Hansen stood grinning by the tiller of the captured pirate ship, and aboard both ships the raiders were dropping their swords. The air was thick with the smell of blood.
“Aileen!” Logan called out into the milling mass of sailors. “Casualties?”
“Two of ours wounded, but not seriously. Three Seabird sailors killed, four wounded. Ten pirates killed, thirteen wounded, four seriously.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you all right?” Aileen was suddenly standing by his side.
Logan glanced dow
n at the blood splattered liberally across his clothes. “Yeah. None of this is my own.”
“Thank the gods.” Aileen let out a breath. “Selene told me to look out for you. She told me that she’d have my skin if anything happened.”
Logan chuckled and put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Selene is more bark than bite. She wouldn’t hurt someone she loves.”
“Loves?” Sergeant Cronin sounded confused.
“Loves.” Logan repeated emphatically. “Look at the way she has treated us; like we’re her children. If something were to happen to me she might be disappointed or angry, but a hug and a kiss would probably make it all right.”
“She doesn’t treat you like her child.”
“Yeah, well...” Logan let it trail off.
“Just another kind of love, right?” The medic was grinning openly and he could feel the flush spreading up his neck to his face.
“So, MacKennit, what do we do now?” Kellic was standing in front of him, arms crossed. “Now that you’ve gotten three of my sailors killed and four hurt. Jimmie there,” he pointed to a sailor lying on the deck, a blood soaked bandage wrapped around his leg, “Jimmie there probably won’t be able to walk fer a month or more.”
Logan shut his eyes and counted to a hundred. Then he did it again. A low growl seemed to pass through the members of his squad, and looks hardened. “If we hadn’t done what we did, you and all you sorry crew would be dead right now.”
“Mebbe. Mebby not.” The Captain looked defiant. “Still yer fault I say.” His glance swung across the deck of the battered Seabird. “An who’s gunna pay fer this mess, I wanna know?”
“You received more than enough money to pay for the whole trip three times over. Expenses come out of your own pocket.” The two men glared at each other for a minute and the air crackled from the tension.
“I ort te throw you offen the damn boat an make ye swim home.” The sailor snarled, his breath smelling of fish and garlic.
“You and what army?” Logan asked quietly.
The Darkness at the Edge of Noon: a Thalassia novel Page 13