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Raven's Quest

Page 20

by Karen Hayes-Baker


  “But what if they get here? They find us and they surely stop us from taking ship!” he protested.

  “Rubbish! They will be in a small row boat with no means of getting aboard. We have the advantage of height and cover. If they even got to us we could simply shoot them,” Thom laughed and then he shrugged. “Besides, by the time they get here we will be ready to leave. And, as I have already said, I do not intend to let them get near anyway.”

  “What you mean?”

  “I mean, we need target practice with these guns. It’s been a while you see. That is where Mr Aledd has gone. He is quite an impressive gunnery officer you know, but even he needs the practice.

  “No, if they launch a boat we will wait until they are away from the quay. I do not want to damage the harbour if I can help it. I do not think your brother would thank me for wrecking his city would he? I reckon if we let them get about a third of the way to us and then blow them out of the water it will be enough to buy us the time we need to leave.” Thom rubbed his hands together eagerly and smiled at the obvious shock on his companion’s face.

  “Stick around up here you might learn something. Or, you can go for’ard to yon gun and have a lesson in turret mechanics and weapons aiming if you prefer. Mr Aledd will make you most welcome I am sure,” he added.

  Karasu did not reply for some time. He simply stared at the busy manoeuvrings of the miniature people in the distance and chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. He suddenly realised the enormity of the difference between himself and the Kapitan. Whereas Devlin looked forward to action with almost boyish enthusiasm, he found the prospect horribly alarming. Whereas the pirate did not have a care for taking the lives of the soldiers, he was desperately willing the men to stay ashore. As if the Kapitan had read his thoughts he said, “They killed those people we witnessed in Sakura Street, Karasu. Do not show them sympathy or waste your compassion on them. They would show none to you or I.”

  Karasu searched Devlin’s face for scorn or mockery but found none, only understanding. He nodded and forced a smile.

  “It just very different from all I taught and in which I believe for most of life. Thought of taking lives fills me with dread. It is sin for me to do so as priest. You understand? I wish more than anything to help people and family, but to reconcile myself to violence is difficult,” he offered by way of explanation.

  “I understand. But you are not a priest are you? You are ronin now. Is that not what they call you? Therefore, in the eyes of your Gods you are already sinful. What harm is a bit more?” Thom replied.

  Karasu stared at him, a quizzical expression on his face and then he burst out laughing. It was a self conscious laugh and one that held more than a little tension, but it relieved the atmosphere between the two young men.

  “I think Thom, I join you in whatever Hell Kami deem fit for us after this,” he laughed nervously.

  “No, they will exonerate us my friend and you will become legend,” Thom grinned back and then turned his attention once more to the soldiers and their preparation of their row boat.

  “Oh ho! Here they come,” he exclaimed and lent over to the voice pipes.

  “Dafidd, they are on their way,” he called to the forward gun turret. Karasu heard a quiet “Aye” in reply. Then Thom called, through an open pipe, down to the engine rooms.

  “Alik?”

  “Aye Kap’n,” came the muffled reply.

  “How long until we are ready to sail?”

  “Fifteen minutes at most. She’s just ‘bout there. Leaking and pissing steam all over the place, but tis the best we’ll get ‘er Kap’n,” Alik replied.

  “We have visitors on route. Be prepared for some noise Alik and let me know when you are ready,” Thom ordered.

  “Aye Kap’n.”

  “Mr Oyama, would you be so kind as to find Mr Densall for me and ask him to come to the bridge along with Hickett,” the Kapitan requested of Karasu. The latter obliged suddenly aware that his heart beat frighteningly fast and his body tingled with anticipation. He returned five minutes later with the dark skinned officer and another blond, young pirate of powerful build.

  “Ah thank you Mr Oyama. Josef, we need to be ready to sail. Please prepare the bridge and Hickett, lift the fore and aft anchors,” Thom commanded and the two men set about their tasks whilst he made a announcement to the crew informing them of his intention to open fire on the approaching soldiers and then leave the harbour.

  Hickett set two men aft to raise the anchor whilst he and another ran forward. He had inspected the chains whilst it was still light and had secretly wondered whether they were still up to the task of lifting a large and heavy chunk of steel. He thought it unlikely, but they set about the winch anyway, which he had spent three hours cleaning and oiling, ensuring it would work.

  Aledd watched the row boat approaching. He smiled ruefully to himself and called through the voice pipe to the magazine below the turret for a shell to be loaded. Beneath him, four sailors heaved the heavy missile into the turret cradle and began manually jacking it to the gun. The mechanical drive would not work and they had not had time to fully investigate. Aledd had surmised it was simply decrepitude and that they might try for hours and not see a spark of life in the thing. So he had brought forward another two men and tasked them with operating the shell hoist.

  The shell arrived at the gun with a soft thud as the hoist reached its limit. It was loaded into the barrel by another pirate and the hoist lowered for the next if needed. Aledd and his helper spun the turret until the gun aligned to the boat and then the First Mate turned the aiming wheel until the great barrel lowered onto the water surface and he had the soldiers in his sights. He signalled that he was ready to the bridge.

  The men at the stern had succeeded in raising the anchor there. It had taken a great effort. Years of being embedded in thick mud had caused it to be held more securely than they would have liked. They had sweated and heaved on the winch as if their backs would break when they suddenly fell forward as the anchor sucked free of mud and the winch turned with amazing ease. They turned it furiously until the clanking chain ground to a stop and then they locked the winch mechanism off.

  At the bow Hickett and his companion were having no such luck. The anchor stubbornly refused to move no matter how hard they tried and though both men were strong, they were fast becoming tired, their muscles aching with the exertion. Hickett sent his mate for more help and checked over the winch and chain to make sure there was nothing preventing either from moving. He ascertained not and waited for help to arrive. He did not fancy telling the Kapitan that they might have to drag the thing out.

  On the bridge Devlin waited for the engineer and tried to ignore the nervous fidgeting of Karasu and now Hiraiwa at his side. The latter flitted his gaze from the row boat to the Kapitan and Thom knew he wandered why they had not fired upon the enemy yet. Karasu simply stared with morbid fascination, his heart thudding and his mind reeling between wishing the gun to be fired soon and his shame at wanting the deed done. Densall stood at the wheel and waited patiently.

  “She’s ready Kap’n,” a voice from the engine room announced through the joining pipe. Thom smiled.

  “Make ready to engage drive on my command,” Thom ordered quietly and then to the gun turret, “Dafidd, fire at your convenience.”

  Within seconds a flare of orange flame leapt from the forward gun’s left hand barrel along with an instantaneous and deafening roar. Karasu and Hiraiwa clamped their hands to their ears thinking the drums might burst and both instinctively ducked their heads. Below decks the tremendous boom startled the Samurai at their task of stoking and they froze in terror as dust and paint fell around them like snow and an odd reverberating ringing filled the compartment and hurt their ears. The pirates with them, started, but then laughed and carried on with their tasks so that the Samurai gazed at one another briefly before they too returned to working, although somewhat nervously. Slowly the ringing subsided to be replaced by a steady rhy
thmic throbbing of engines.

  Just as the gun fired Hickett and his three men were heaving upon the forward anchor winch. It still did not budge. He was about to give up and inform the Kapitan when the thunderous boom split the air behind them and shook the ship. Filled with an adrenalin surge he ordered for one more try and, whether or not the vibration from the gun had helped them, with one great effort the chain moved. But it moved with such sudden ease following their concerted effort that Hickett fell forward onto the winch handle and cracked his mouth upon it. He felt the piercing pain and knew his front teeth had broken, blood gushed from his mouth and he clamped a hand to it to staunch the flow. Yet despite his pain he pulled himself up and peered over the forward rails at the anchor chain. He shouted at the others to carry on, but he was only waiting for confirmation of what he already knew. As the men turned the winch, finally the end of the chain came into view. There was no anchor upon it. As he had suspected earlier in the day, the chain was rotten with rust and had snapped under the strain leaving the anchor forever imbedded in the harbour mud. He spat blood out onto the deck and cursed. The ship began to turn.

  Aledd watched with satisfaction as the shell ploughed into the row boat sending splintered wood and bodies high in the air with a resounding explosion on impact. “Yes!” he cried out loud and punched his fist into the air. He had not lost his touch even after two years aboard the Rose. His aim was true and his skill undiminished.

  Thom grinned at the destruction of the row boat and its occupants. As their bodily remains fell back into the water he ordered the engineer to engage the engines and set the speed at ahead slow. Densall pulled the wheel around and the old frigate began to turn in a long slow arc.

  Karasu stood gripping the forward bulwark on the bridge staring at the gruesome wreckage falling back into the dark water. He heard the soft splashes as the roar of the explosion faded, though his ears still rang and he was aware of sweat running down his neck and back. Where the boat had been an empty hole remained. He shivered convulsively and glanced at Hiraiwa who nodded happily with an approving grin.

  “Excellent, excellent!” the Second Samurai cried and slapped the Kapitan on the back.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Thom laughed in response as uproar broke out ashore.

  The frigate finished her shuddering turn and he rang the speed for full ahead, in response the ship’s engines increased their rhythmic thump and more black smoke belched from the funnel as the Orca surged through the still black water of the harbour and out into the open sea.

  “Now we see what she can do!” Thom exclaimed happily and joined Densall at the wheel.

  THIRTY-ONE

  The translator was unhappy. He did not like the thought of the prisoner, Lord Oyama, being sheltered in his house but he was too afraid of General Furuki to object openly. He also did not like the low grumbling rumble of the volcano or the fact that a gentle snowy fall of ash had covered his vegetable garden, the streets outside and the roof of his humble home. The ash was only a covering, but it got everywhere, into his house and into his lungs. It made him cough and sneeze and he refrained from going outside. He had told his wife to take the children to her sister’s out of the city. He had just packed her into a cart, escorted by her younger brother when Furuki had appeared out of the grey dawn like a ghost. Now he sat staring at the feathery precipitation settling into the dead street outside and waited wringing his hands nervously.

  It was late evening. Most people, who still had homes to go to, were inside settling down for the night. As for the rest, the ones who had lost everything in the quake, he did not know what they did or where they went. Some no doubt found refuge with friends, neighbours and family. Others had possibly left the city, but there must also be those who were spending another night out in the open, finding what shelter they could from the rain of ash. At least the stones had stopped and the volcano was relatively quiet now. Maybe by morning it would all be over. He sighed and glanced across the room to the door at the far end. The door behind which lay Oyama Hayato. A man who Lord Kurohoshi would leave no stone unturned to find and would kill whoever had aided the escapee. Kouhei swallowed hard, his mouth dry with fear, his brow beaded with sweat.

  “Relax Kouhei. I am sure they will be here for him soon. You stress yourself needlessly,” Stefan placated watching his friend from his seat at the table.

  “But what if soldiers come looking for him Stefan?” Kouhei quailed.

  “I doubt they have even checked to see if he is missing. From what Furuki said they were paying no particular attention to the prison and following the eruption I doubt they have even given it a thought. Besides, even if they had, why would they come here? You are beyond suspicion.”

  “The General thought he had been followed when he first came here. Suppose they followed him when he brought our guest? I do not like it Stefan. I am harbouring an enemy of my Lord Presidor and he is not a man that I have pledged allegiance to,” the translator remonstrated.

  “He is a good man though Kouhei. Not a tyrant like Kurohoshi. I met him when he was a boy, before I married and came here. His father was good to my people,” Stefan said almost absentmindedly.

  “But he is an enemy of my people.”

  “No, only of Kurohoshi. Anyway stop worrying he will be gone soon. We should wake him.”

  “You do it. I wish to watch the street,” Kouhei returned and nervously gazed back outside.

  “It will not make them come any sooner,” Stefan laughed and then held his hands up in apology as his friend cast him a venomous glance. He sighed, lifted himself from his seat and walked to the door. With his hand on the handle he hesitated before sliding it open. He would not admit it to Kouhei, but he did share some of the little man’s discomfort. In the room beyond lay their death sentence should they be discovered. He shook his head telling himself he was being spooked by his nervous companion and he slid the door open.

  Hayato was asleep. Stefan approached and looked down at him. He saw a man who had suffered greatly. He was thin and exhausted. There were signs that he had been badly beaten and his left leg was splinted. He had hobbled on it even with help. When he had arrived he had begged a bath, to be allowed to shave the filthy beard from his face and a change of clothes. Kouhei had obliged with the former but had none of the latter to fit and that was when he went to Stefan. Now the ex-sailor was involved just as much, although in truth he had been from the start and deep down he felt a fealty with the Oyama heir, much more so than to Kurohoshi. Stefan knew he would help this man before he had even been asked. He had supplied clothes and had joined Kouhei in conversation with the General. They would look after Hayato until midnight and then Furuki and his men would come and smuggle him from the city.

  Stefan bent down and gently shook the sleeping man. He looked much better now clean shaven and he no longer smelt like a sewer. They had burned his old clothes in the garden and the ash had covered the fire, smothering its flames before they died naturally.

  “Lord Oyama. Sir, it is time to wake,” Stefan uttered lowly.

  Hayato’s eyes snapped open and for a moment his face held a hint of fear until he realised where he was and that he was free of the dreadful dungeon at last. He smiled and pushed himself upright.

  “Would you like some tea and a bite to eat Sir,” Stefan went on.

  “I would like both yes. Thank you for your kindness. Please could you help me to stand?” Hayato asked.

  Stefan obliged and assisted the young man into the next room where he sat at the table. Kouhei glanced at him and a soft mewl escaped his lips, but he said nothing other than to point out that there were some noodles by the stone sink that had been prepared earlier and some fruit in the bowl next to them. He then returned to his vigil, but could not refrain from casting the odd surreptitious look towards his regal visitor. It was not every day one had a prince in one’s house, even less so an enemy prince.

  Greedily Hayato accepted the food as Stefan laid it before him and for s
ome moments he sated his ravaging hunger and slaked his thirst with great gulps of luke-warm tea.

  “Forgive me,” he said after a while, “I am half starved and I die of thirst. But you must think me a rude and unworthy guest in your house.”

  “No, no it is an honour my Lord,” Kouhei replied meekly and bowed wringing his hands even more and fidgeting like a child needing the toilet. Hayato considered the little man and realised his extreme fear.

  “I am sorry that my presence makes you afraid Mr Akika. Soon I will be gone and you can rest easy. I am most grateful for what you have done for me. And you also Mr…? I am sorry I do not know your name. You are a westerner, but you speak Ashiman fluently, therefore I surmise that you are not one of Kapitan Devlin’s men.”

  “Humpf, I most certainly am not my Lord. We have met before. A long time ago. You were only a boy at the time. I was one of the officers from the Orca. Second Levtenant Stefan Marrel Sir,” the sailor bowed.

  “You are one of the men that stayed. I am sorry, but I do not remember you. But you moved here to Hana-Shi-Ku?”

  “Yes Sir. My wife is a native of this city. It is an honour to help you Sir. Your father was kind to my people when we were marooned here and a great friend to my Kapitan. I am sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you and thank you for your support. You dislike Kapitan Devlin then?” Hayato had picked up the bitterness in the westerner’s voice.

  “I have never met him Sir, but he is a pirate. Murderers and barbarians are pirates. Take my word, if you are hoping for his help you will get none. He will take your money, if that is what you have offered and run. Have nothing to do with such scum Sir,” Stefan angrily jabbed at the air.

  “But First Samurai Furuki thinks he is a worthy man and I too have spent time with him. He was a prisoner for a while,” Hayato defended Devlin.

  “Hah! All deceit and lies. Believe me; he will leave you for dead before he lifts a hand to help you.”

  “But Jun says he is bringing the ship here to rescue myself and my sister. I have great faith in Jun’s word,” Hayato argued beginning to feel a little disconcerted by Marrel’s conviction and fearful that Furuki and himself may have misjudged the pirate.

 

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