by Rob May
She was never going to let Lula kill Azul, of course. Kal’s gambit had failed; her bluff had been well and truly called. Azul’s gang could easily overpower the crew of the Black Lotus, so Kal’s ship (and the captain’s hat that went with it) were no doubt lost to her now.
The shadow of the zombie galleon was creeping across the deck. The ships that had followed Kal from Port Black were already attempting to extricate themselves from this disaster and flee the battle. Azul shrugged away his bonds and took his pistol back from Lula. ‘So if you’re not going to shoot me, Moonheart,’ he said to Kal, ‘I’ll ask you again: get the hell off my new ship!’
IV.vii
Sirensbane Smile
Kal was frozen with indecision. What was her play now? The word run sprang to mind—but that was no easy task, seeing as she was surrounded by water and fighting ships. Swim, perhaps? While she was agonising over the situation, Azul grabbed Lula by the wrist and hurled her in Kal’s direction. Lula crashed into Kal at the exact moment a thundering boom sounded overhead, and the zombie galleon fired all of its starboard guns directly down into the deck of the nearest Eldragoran man o’ war. The warship was instantly crippled, and the wave it threw up rocked the Black Lotus, throwing Kal and Lula over the rail and into the sea.
Under the water, the world was quiet and slow-moving: a complete contrast to the battle raging overhead. Kal could see twenty fathoms down to the white sand, where brightly coloured fish went about their business, oblivious to the world-changing events playing out above. Cannonballs dropping into the water had their anger quenched, and they sank like graceful diving seabirds. One of the Magician’s nautilus submarines floated past, the refracted sunlight dappling its silvery scaled carapace, making it look like an elegant fish riding the current.
Kal grabbed the side of the nautilus with one hand, and pulled Lula along with the other. When the submarine surfaced, they clambered up onto its back.
They were back in the thick of it, in a world of smoke, spray and noise. Over the rumble of cannon and the creaking and cracking of wood, it was the screams of dying sailors that sounded loudest in Kal’s ears. The nearby man o’ war was now just a floating horror house of blood and splinters. Kal and Lula were trapped in a narrow canyon, with the stricken warship on one side and the cliff-like hull of the zombie galleon on the other. Kal could see that the galleon’s hull was all iron and rivets underneath its wooden outer shell. Was the whole ship metal? Such a thing was incomprehensible to her.
What wasn’t incomprehensible was the galleon’s other secret. It fired again: another devastating broadside that followed fast on the heels of the last, causing further catastrophic damage to the Eldragoran ship. The gaping mouths of the guns were almost wide enough to crawl down—they were larger than even the fort’s giant forty-four pound guns. So one thing was certain: when comparing the galleon’s latest strikes to its clumsy pot shots earlier in the day, Kal guessed that the ship wasn’t entirely crewed by zombies.
The round lid of the nautilus flipped open, and the Nubaran pilot popped out to see who was on his back. Kal still had one of Azul’s pistols—it was waterlogged, but that didn’t matter; she held it by the barrel and knocked the pilot out cold with the heavy stock. She took his cutlass and was staring down into the cabin of the vessel—there were lots of strange levers and brass-rimmed dials—when Lula grabbed her and pulled her back into the water …
The Black Lotus had been coming up the channel between the two larger ships, its long bow-chasers pointing directly ahead. When it fired, the nautilus was flipped out of the water and turned on its back. Another booming double crash, and the small metal craft was knocked out of the end of the channel. The Lotus slipped past, and Kal took a mouthful of water from its swell.
Kal and Lula climbed aboard the wrecked warship through a gash in the hull. The gundeck was flooded, but the ship was still afloat … for now. Up top, it was chaos; hundreds of fighting men were moving among the ruined masts and rigging, at a loss what to do next. There were bodies everywhere: Kal saw one man with a six-foot-long splinter of wood through his chest, and another body that was clean, dry and smartly dressed in an officer’s uniform … except that it was missing a head.
Amid the noise and cries of battle, a new sound could be heard: trumpets and horns from the Eldragoran Armada. ‘What does that mean?’ Kal asked Lula.
‘Some new threat,’ Lula said, leading Kal to the opposite side of the ship where they could get a better look at the state of the battle. Kal couldn’t see anything except ships and smoke, but Lula was reading the signal flags that were being hoisted on the command ships. ‘It’s another fleet!’ she exclaimed. ‘Three hundred more ships, but this time they’re not part of the Armada … they’re mercenaries, privateers and Nubaran pirates!’
Of course! Kal should have known that Sirensbane wouldn’t trust his defences completely to brainless zombies. The shuffling creatures they had seen on the deck of the galleon earlier, who were such a bad shot, were merely a facade. In truth, the galleon, the nautilus submarines, and now this new fleet, were all controlled by some of the bloodthirstiest pirates and immoral hired-killers who ever put to sail.
Once more, the odds of victory for either side were shortened, as if the dice were held perpetually spinning in mid-air. And once more, Kal felt that it was somehow down to her to do something decisive …
She could see the sails of Black Lotus again—it was coming around on the side of the warship away from the galleon. Eldragoran marines were lining up for the chance to leave the wreck of their ship. Kal pulled Lula by the hand and ran to join the queue.
‘Kal, wait!’ Lula protested. ‘There’s no point in going after Azul again! You can’t stop this battle.’
‘I’m not going to stop it,’ Kal replied. ‘I’m going to win it!’
The starboard side of the warship’s deck was tilting upwards, and the troops were clambering onto the exposed hull and sliding down to the deck of the Black Lotus. Azul was welcoming them aboard with enthusiasm, but his mood soured when Kal and Lula dropped in on him. ‘You are like a couple of cursed doubloons that keep coming back!’ he said. ‘Someone lock these troublemakers below! I tell you, both of you have a date with my codpiece when this is all over—my studded codpiece!’
‘This time, we’re here to fight for you!’ Kal said.
‘What?’ Azul and Lula exclaimed as one.
‘The Magician’s army is pirates, not zombies,’ Kal explained. ‘And I don’t have a problem killing pirates.’ She patted her pockets. ‘In fact, I have a warrant for that sort of thing on me somewhere.’
Lula didn’t look convinced, but Azul slapped his thigh with glee. ‘Well, bugger me with the mizzenmast,’ he laughed. ‘Maybe this ship does have room for two captains, after all. Although I have to say, Moonheart, that despite the fact that you managed to sink the Drago Azul with a lucky shot, this ship of yours hasn’t as much firepower as I’d like. But what we do have now is swords, so how do you feel about sailing into the heart of that pirate fleet and taking part in a bit of boarding action?’
‘Bring it on,’ Kal said. She had an idea who the pirate leader might be, and she was begging for the chance to take him on.
The Black Lotus set its staysails, reached around and ran fast towards the line of pirate ships that were rounding the coast. Amaro Azul jumped up onto the bowsprit and turned to face the men and women who were crowded on deck. There must have been over a hundred of them: Eldragoran marines as well as both Kal and Azul’s crews. ‘Listen to me,’ Azul shouted. ‘These good-for-nothing pirates are not likely to be honourable bastards like we are; they won’t surrender if we strike their colours or kill their captain. So we’re going to have to kill every last one of them. Don’t stop fighting until there’s no one left to fight!’
He turned and pulled out his shining spyglass, and sighted to the fore. He turned back and closed the glass by slamming it against his chest. ‘We’ve enough troops to take on their biggest
ship,’ he said, ‘but be prepared to take a couple of broadsides before we manage to scupper their guns. Some of you here will surely die! Hell, it might even be me feeding the fishes tonight, but until that happens we will live the Eldragoran way: we will take life by the tail and ride it as hard as we can until we are thrown off!’
The marines cheered. Next to Kal, Lula looked terrified. Dogwood and Doctor Tooth joined them. The doctor was holding his bonesaw in a clenched fist, and Dogwood was brandishing his Senate Guard shortsword. The sight of the Republic crest on the hilt made Kal suddenly homesick, and that sickness turned to fear in her mouth. The marines were all equipped with muskets, swords, grappling hooks and even breastplates, but all Kal had was a cutlass she hadn’t even had chance to swing yet, let alone fight with. Oh, and her meat cleaver. If only Nim could see me now, she thought, thinking about the blond girl back in Amaranthium who manufactured all her tools and weapons.
Kal tried to hold it together. ‘I’ll look after you,’ she said to Lula, putting a hand on her friend’s trembling shoulder.
‘It’s you who needs looking after,’ Lula replied, with a weak smile. ‘All these crazy situations you keep getting us into.’
‘I’m glad you came back, Moonheart,’ Dogwood chipped in. ‘I wasn’t sure how I felt about being press-ganged into the Eldragoran marines.’
Kal fist-bumped the fat man’s chest. Dogwood would have survived being part of Azul’s crew, Kal was sure of it. He would have found a role that no one else wanted, and thrived. People like him didn’t care who they worked with, when they really only ever worked for themselves.
There was no time to worry about things for much longer; the Black Lotus was closing on the largest of the pirate ships—a massive forty-gun, square-rigged brig with black sails. It was flying a skull and crossbones, of course. The deck was lined with black Nubarans, as well as mercenaries of every shade of skin from all around the world. Musket shots filled the air, and a marine standing next to Kal dropped to the deck, a red hole in his temple.
This was just a taster, though, of what they would have to endure once they bumped up against the larger ship. No one spoke as the distance closed. The gun teams made ready to fire, for all the good it would do, while the pirate ship also seemed to be holding its breath, ready for a close range broadside. The Lotus slid smoothly alongside its enemy as if it were docking in a cramped harbour, nudging it gently at the widest part of the beam.
Then all hell broke loose.
When the pirate cannons let rip, over one thousand pounds of iron were loosed at the Black Lotus. Grapeshot shredded her rigging and sails, and twenty-four pound balls the size of grapefruit tore through her deck and hull. The air was suddenly filled with splinters, and as time seemed to stand still, Kal was hyper-aware of the carnage all around her: Azul’s giant first mate, a man Kal imagined would be in the thick of the fighting, never got the chance to set foot on board the pirate ship—he was lifted off his feet by a cannonball to the chest and flung out to sea. Three marines were treated to broken necks and spines as the mainmast snapped and fell on top of them, and one of the Lotus’s two-ton guns was knocked free of its moorings and slid back across the deck. Dogwood was in the way, and he was crushed against the opposite bulwark. His scream hung in the air seemingly forever …
And then time resumed, and Kal found herself rolling on her back, clutching her leg. A foot-long splinter of wood was lodged in her thigh muscle. It was sheer agony, and she was left reeling and wailing as everyone else followed Azul and boarded the enemy.
Lula had left Kal behind and joined the fight. There was nobody alive on the Lotus now except Kal. Pip, whose only task had been to hold the tiller steady, was missing at his post and the ship was drifting free. Dogwood was either unconscious or dead behind the cannon, and none of the other bodies on deck were moving. The deck was tilting astern, too: the Black Lotus was sinking.
Damned if this captain is going down with her ship, Kal thought, getting painfully to her feet. Her thigh was numb, but she could stand. She didn’t dare pull the splinter out, though. She began to stagger over to check on Dogwood.
Then Jako appeared over the rail and stood in front of her. He drew his two scimitars.
Kal hissed. There were no words. Jako had been the Magician’s man from the start; he had done his best to obfuscate Kal’s investigations, and he had threatened the life of her best friend. Kal raised her cutlass. If she was destined to die fighting this man, then so be it.
Jako didn’t speak at first, either. He just flashed his Sirensbane smile: a black void of rotten teeth. He was bare-chested, and Kal could see that his hands and forearms were grey up to his elbows, and his smooth black chest had a grey stain over his heart. He was still human—just—but driven by drugs and by his master.
‘Time to claim that million pieces of eight bounty on you, Butcher,’ Jako joked.
Kal shook her head. ‘You won’t live long enough to spend it, even if you kill me,’ she said. ‘Look at you, Jako, you’re a sick wreck.’ Kal held up her cleaver in her free hand. ‘Luckily for you, I’m the cure.’
Jako’s reply was to just slash and sweep his blades in an intimidating display. Kal caught his eye, and perhaps she imagined it but there was regret there: he had become a monster, but there was still a tiny spark of humanity that was aware of the life he was losing hour by hour.
Would that stop him killing Kal? Probably not, but she hoped it might give him pause. She pressed her verbal attack: ‘You’re a slave to Sirensbane … the man and the drug!’
Jako moved in to attack. Kal tried to keep her cool—she knew that dual-wielding conferred no real advantage except to strike fear into an opponent. After all, you could only swing one weapon at a time. For a strong fighter like Jako, a large two-handed blade would have given him more power and control.
Kal stepped forward, putting her weight on her leading leg—her good leg, fortunately—and met Jako’s advance. She used her cleaver for attack, and her cutlass for defence; she also had the advantage of the sloping deck. Kal put all of her rage into the fight: her anger at Che’s death, her frustration at Jako’s duplicity, her sorrow at what the drug had done to so many people here …
She managed to drive Jako back to the capstan, but it took all her strength. And when Jako put his back to the metal cylinder to stop his backwards slide, Kal knew her advantage was lost. But then, to her surprise—and certainly to Jako’s—Pip crawled out from where he had been hiding behind the capstan. He stabbed Jako in the heel with the marlinspike Kal had given him.
Pip! The boy swore he was sixteen, but Kal reckoned he was some years younger. He had run away to sea for adventure, not violence, but his timid jab was enough to turn the battle back in Kal’s favour; Jako lost his balance and twisted away from the unexpected attack. Kal stepped in with her cleaver and delivered a crushing blow to Jako’s right shoulder.
It should have been over, but Jako shrugged off the wound like it was a mosquito bite. He dropped one scimitar, and battled on with the other. Jako’s real advantage was now clear: he was just as skilled with his left sword arm as with his right, and his drug-ravaged body refused to feel pain.
Kal was losing hope of a quick victory. Her defences dropped for an instant, and Jako’s blade sliced across her collarbone, whipping up a spray of blood. Kal felt the steel strike bone, and she was knocked backwards, tripping over a dead body. Now the tables had really turned: Kal was beneath Jako on the sloping deck. She rolled away from him, getting under the barrel of the loose cannon just in time to avoid a finishing blow. Jako’s sword clanged on the bronze bore.
Jako hopped up onto the cannon itself. He was grinning insanely. Kal was still scrabbling around on her back, but no matter where she moved to, Jako could jump on her and kill her in an instant. It was surely all over for her now.
Then the grin was wiped off Jako’s face. A sword point emerged from his belly. Dogwood’s sword point. When the sword was pulled back out, and Jako fell off th
e cannon, the Captain of the Senate Guard was revealed, still pinned to the breach of the cannon by his left hand, but triumphantly brandishing his weapon with his right.
‘Is there a bounty on that fellow?’ Dogwood asked. ‘Because if there is, it’s mine!’
Jako stood up.
Dogwood instinctively threw his shortsword, and it stuck in Jako’s back, but it didn’t stop him. Jako was a dead man walking, and Kal could only stare in horror as he slowly lurched towards her. His eyes were dead, his vile grin was dead, but his body just kept on moving.
Kal tried to get up, but her injured leg wouldn’t cooperate. She looked around for help, but there was none. The Black Lotus was drifting away from the action. The noise of battle from the deck of the pirate ship was getting fainter. Kal noticed that one large triple-decker warship had detached itself from the fray around the galleon and was heading in their direction. It was hardly likely, though, that it was interested in a small sinking schooner, even if it could get here on time.
Jako raised his scimitar and stabbed downwards. Kal jerked her hips to one side and the blade slid inside her belt, pinning her to the deck.
The warship was getting closer now, racing directly towards them under full sail. It wasn’t an Eldragoran ship—it must have been one of the new arrivals. Kal thought she recognised the figurehead: a king holding a sword aloft …
Jako went and picked up his other sword from where it had slid and got caught in some fallen rigging. He returned to try and kill Kal a second time.
A skeleton wearing a crown and holding a sword aloft …
Jako raised his scimitar.
The Mort Royal!
The Amaranthium Navy’s command ship smashed into the side of the Black Lotus, splitting the smaller ship in two with its narrow prow. The grinning skeletal figurehead was heading straight for Jako, and the sword in its hand went straight through his neck, plucking him off the deck and whisking him away like a prize catch.