Dragon Clan #5: Tanner's Story

by LeRoy Clary

  “They’ll shoot back and set The Rose aflame.”

  “Not with their bows. Ours reach twice as far. They will not even get into range if we do our job back there.”

  “You have a lot of confidence in your bows. They look plain and awkward to me.”

  Tanner said, “All of that is true. But remember our bows have twice the range and more accuracy. You told me that the Far Seeker is only a little faster than The Rose. That means it will be close enough to use our bows long before they can return fire. If Captain Brice is smart, he’ll veer off.”

  Captain Jamison stuck his head out of the open window of the wheelhouse and said, “If you’re right about how far your arrows fly, there’s hardly time for you to get back there.” His eyes had taken on a wild, excited look. He almost looked happy.

  While running to the stern, Tanner decided men react differently to danger. He felt excited also, but with more than a little fear was mixed in. And determination. A cold resolve that mirrored that of Carrion. Both of them had the ability to shut emotion out while they fought. He suspected the two archers were much the same. While serving in King Ember’s army, they had learned to take orders and fight with a discipline that others would not.

  He pictured them standing suddenly and firing arrow after arrow while the charging enemy bore down upon them. If they stood their ground, they would win. If not, the battle was lost.

  The narrow stern of the ship was crowded with six men. Carrion was ordering each archer to a spot where he would have the room needed, but he moved the bowl of oil further away. He showed the two crewmen how to wrap only the tip of the arrow, and not too much cloth. Then he dipped and held it near the small flame of a lamp.

  He said, “Don’t light it until one of us reaches for it. You can dip and ready as many as you wish. When I let one fly, I’ll be reaching for the next. Keep the flame end pointed at that ship. Any questions?”

  In the waning light, the two crewmen shook their heads.

  Tanner watched the black ship gaining on them. It was just out of range. His fingers gripped the bow tighter.

  The archer to his right said, “My bow will reach them from here, but not with the rag on the point. Just a little closer, my devious enemy.”

  His mumbling reminded Tanner that while their longbows could reach further, firing too soon would give Captain Brice the opportunity to turn aside. He spoke to them all, “We’ll wait until their archers are almost ready to fire at us, but still out of range for them. This is not the same as before. We’re going to start as many fires in as many places as possible. The upper sails first. Then the lower, and put arrows high on the hull, and on the deck.”

  Carrion said, “Remember. The sails first. And masts. If we get them burning, they’ll fall to the deck and start more fires. Like Tanner said, spread out your shots.”

  Tanner said to the crewmen, who were each holding an arrow already dripping oil onto the deck, “Keep your lantern shielded from them until I say. We don’t want to tip them off for what’s coming at them.”

  The crew of the Far Seeker crowded the port side rail as the ship turned slightly to starboard. It would come alongside The Rose upwind. At least three men held grappling hooks on long, thin lines they would throw when they were alongside, then they’d pull the two ships together while their fighting men swarmed to the other ship.

  While attacking a cargo ship, the crazy screaming and waving of swords and knives would terrify the crew. Most would surrender without a fight. He imagined Captain Brice’s anger when at least three of his men fell to arrows. This was a battle Tanner couldn’t lose and survive.

  “I kin hit them from here easy,” the one crewman whispered.

  “Hold on,” Tanner ordered. Just a little longer. He drew ten more measured breaths ignoring the concerned looks from the other three archers and the two crewmen. In a voice as cold as the water racing below the hull he said, “Light and hand me my first arrow. Fire at will.”

  The hand of the crewman shook so hard Tanner feared it might put out the fire before he managed to hand the arrow off. But Tanner finally had it fitted to the string. He pulled the string so far back his hand touched his cheek. He lifted it higher and let it fly, half expecting it to go over the top of the sails. Instead, it struck a mid-sail near the mast.

  “Shoot high. The arrows drop fast,” he said, as another flew and hit the mainsail, near the bottom.

  He reached for another, but had to wait until the crewman had one lighted. Two more arrows drew flaming streaks across the water, one missing the sails on the forward mast and striking the second one. The other must have had something hard on a mast, perhaps an iron band because it struck and fell. But it landed at the bottom of the sail and ignited a small fire that spread quickly.

  On the Far Seeker, men left their fighting stations and ran for buckets and water. Tanner imagined them shouting that it was unfair. They were supposed to do that to the other ship. He released his second arrow, aimed at the wooden structure of the wheelhouse. The wood was, at least, twenty years old, painted a hundred times. It was as dry as tinder. With the help of the oil, it spread down as well as burning upwards.

  He reached for another arrow as he watched the air between the two ships. It seemed there was an arrow streaking through the air at any time. All were traveling the same direction. He pulled and released another at a section of the sails without flames, and grinned as he saw two arrows strike in nearly the same place. One of the other had the same idea, but he didn’t know if it was Carrion or one of the archers.

  Tanner held out his hand for another arrow as the black ship veered sharply away. He accepted the burning arrow and wished he could shake off the flame. There at the rail stood Captain Brice amid the crew racing to put out the fires. When they splashed water on them, it only serves to spread the flames. The oil fires refused to be extinguished by water.

  The flaming arrow would have to do. He pulled, aimed a little ahead of Captain Brice, and a little above. He released. The arrow looked like it would overshoot the retreating ship, but then it lost speed and began to fall. It struck the deck only a step away from him.

  Captain Brice screamed in fury, shaking his fist. Tanner reached for an arrow and quickly pulled the unlighted rag from the tip. He drew again, as the archer at his side said, “Save it. Too far.”

  Tanner pulled beyond his cheek, almost to his ear and let it fly.

  Captain Brice turned and looked right at him. As he leaned on the rail to bellow another obscenity or threat, the arrow struck. It hit the railing directly in front of him, between his hands. The sudden appearance of the arrow made him leap backward so fast his feet couldn’t stay underneath, like a clown taking a pratfall. He fell to the combined laughter of all six men on the stern.

  “Guess it wasn’t too far after all,” the man said, “but that shot will be the makings of a tale I’ll have to be drunk as a skunk to pass on because nobody’s going to believe it.”

  From the way Captain Brice reacted, he didn’t believe it either. Picking himself up from the deck while watching The Rose, he shook a fist. But the separation between the two ships continued increasing.

  As darkness fully fell, they could still see the Far Seeker and the flames rising to the top of her masts. Tanner said to the men on the stern, “How many fires do you think we caused?”

  Carrion said, “I think I started ten.”

  “She’ll be lucky to stay afloat,” a sailor said.

  Carrion snorted, “It’ll stay afloat, mark my words. Evil men like him have a way of surviving.”

  “We’ll see him again,” Tanner agreed and hoped that when they did the circumstances were favorable.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  It took seven more days to reach the Marlstones, two of those days fighting through storms with seas higher than the railings. The ship took several waves over the bow. The water rushed across the decks sweeping it clean of anything not secured, but no men were lost.

  Tanner
couldn’t image what it must be like to have a storm strike when your ship has been burned, your sails are ashes, and most of the rigging went up in flames. How could Captain Brice keep his ship turned into the wind and waves to prevent striking broadside and rolling it over? If the Far Seeker survived burning, most would agree it should have sunk in the storm.

  But he didn’t believe it did. Captain Brice would manage to survive, even if his ship did not. He was that kind of enemy. What Tanner did know is that the closer The Rose sailed to the port of Marlstone, the stronger the itch on his back grew. The red dragon had arrived ahead of them. He spent the morning after the attack in the tiny ship’s cabin guarding the door while watching Carrion in a trance with the dragon. Carrion said that it flew over two islands before settling on another.

  Carrion had watched the approach through the eyes of the dragon. He wanted to make sure the island was uninhabited, and that there was ample prey for it to feed upon. He also wanted to make sure there were no green dragons waiting to attack and kill the red. If the red spotted one before Carrion, it would instantly attack.

  But now they stood at the same spot where they spent a good portion of the trip, standing at the port rail where they enjoyed the brisk sea air, the warmth of the sun, and they were mostly out of the way of the crew.

  Ahead lay the port of Marlstone, empty of other ships and appearing forsaken. The pier, warehouses, and lack of people made the scene almost like a lonely painting on canvas. Tanner said, “From a distance, the island is beautiful.”

  Carrion said, “Nobody seems excited enough to welcome us.”

  The pier stood empty and remained so as Captain Jamison navigated The Rose closer. When no small boats were dispatched to help her dock, he ordered his own to be lowered. A small line was fed to the to the rowboat. It rowed to the dock, and two sailors quickly climbed a rusty ladder and pulled the small rope that was attached to a larger one. In no time, The Rose was pulled to the side of the dock and tied without the help of a single islander.

  The silence was eerie. Tanner sensed the awkwardness of the crew and their confusion. Fisher, the first mate, was sent off to locate the Harbor Master. Nobody else departed from the ship. Nobody seemed to want to.

  Fisher returned with two men in tow. Their skins were darkened from the tropical sun, and they walked so slowly they appeared serene. Captain Jamison met them at the top of the gangplank and offered to shake hands. They refused.

  Words were exchanged and then the two men calmly departed and walked back up the pier as if on an afternoon stroll. Captain Jamison headed their way. He said, “They don’t want us here. We can’t buy supplies or water.”

  Tanner said, “Do we have enough to reach our destination?”

  “I planned to gather them here, as well as refitting the ship for whatever we need.”

  “Is there anything critical we need?”

  The Captain shrugged. “We could use a few repair items for the ship, but the refit took care of nearly everything. But we do need water and food to continue. I’m sorry, I expected to buy all we needed here.”

  Carrion said, “If the only things we need are water and food, maybe I can help.”

  “Do you know these people?” The Captain asked.

  “No, but if we examine your charts again, I may be able to help.”

  Captain Jamison shot him a questioning look and then said, “Our other option is to sail back to Princeton, maybe Fleming, and load the ship with supplies.”

  The response made Tanner wince. Word of their destruction of Fleming hadn’t reached them. Tanner didn’t want water or food from there. He felt convinced that one of them was drugged. He suspected what Carrion was offering. The red dragon. Carrion could see through the eyes of the dragon and locate fresh water and perhaps food.

  Tanner said, “We would like to look at your chart of the islands, please. Then we’ll talk and decide what to do.”

  Reluctantly, the Captain turned and took them to his cabin. He unrolled the chart and used weights at the corners to hold it down. Marlstone, the island, and port were located on a sheltered bay of the largest island. But there were over a dozen larger ones, two of them nearly as large.

  The depth soundings showed both of the other islands had waters deep enough for The Rose, and both had rivers emptying into the ocean. A closer look revealed that one had a settlement. The other was listed as uninhabited.

  Either might be better. If the residents of the first were cooperative, it was the better choice. If not, the uninhabited island would provide water. But they needed food. There were bound to be coconuts and other fruits, but a voyage across the ocean eating coconut three times a day didn’t sound enticing.

  A third island off to the side of the island chain caught Tanner’s eye. Smaller by half, the notes beside it said that it had a friendly population. A small river wound through the town and beyond from inland. The last entry caught his attention. It said, “Inhabitants do not consider this island part of Marlstone.”

  He stabbed a finger at it.

  After reading the notes, Carrion gave him the nod.

  Captain Jamison settled back and said, “Never heard of Bangor but from what I see it will take only a day to sail there. If it does not work out, we can decide what to do. It’s not like we’re in desperate need.”

  Tanner said, “I’d like to go there.”

  “If they consider themselves something other than Marlstone we stand a chance. It seems that Breslau has influence over this entire port. The government and every business are controlled by Breslau. I’d heard some of it, but nobody has ever mentioned it is like this.” Captain Jamison said. “Let me get my men busy.”

  As Tanner watched Carrion communicating with the red dragon in their cabin, he heard the shouts and orders of the ship departing. He expected the ship to sail from the harbor and turn east. The change in the roll of the ship would alert him, but it didn’t come.

  Carrion finally sat up and said, “The island next to Bangor is even smaller but has good water. We saw two goats, but no other large animals and few fruits, but maybe it’s worth a look. The eyes of a dragon look for food and danger. Anything else is lost.”

  “We haven’t turned,” Tanner said.

  “Probably still in sight of Marlstone. Why turn and give away our intentions and maybe foul the chances for the next ship? Which might be us as we return.”

  The humid, hot air drove them back out to the deck. The island was almost lost to sight, as Carrion predicted, The Rose turned east and north. The wind was mild, the ship moved slowly and remained standing upright, nearly level. When Tanner was about to mention it, he spotted a dark mass of clouds forming.

  An afternoon thunderstorm approached, and with it, the wind increased, then blew hard. The ship heeled over and sped across the water like a water bug being chased by a spider. The rain struck and came in sheets, driving them back inside to suffer the stifling wet heat. Both took naps.

  Back on deck, the Captain came to Tanner. After pleasantries and a status of the ship in general, the Captain said, “With your approval, we’re sailing around the other islands at a distance they won’t see us. We’ll arrive near dawn, so it’s not going to slow us.”

  “You’re angry.”

  “The seas should be free. What Breslau is doing isn’t right. Now they’re controlling the only place to resupply. I’m sure other ships have given up.”

  “There’s more to your anger,” Tanner prompted.

  “I’m a sailor. I want to sail to strange places and see what they have to offer. Breslau is shrinking my world. I don’t like it.”

  Tanner watched the smudge on the horizon that was Marlstone. He said, “I think I understand. When we get to Breslau are you certain The Rose can outrun any of their ships?”

  “Any I’ve heard of, but they may have built some I don’t know. My worry is that while you two are ashore doing whatever you plan to do, two or more ships may blockade me.”

  “Are there optio
ns?”

  “Yes. We could put you in a dingy to row ashore while The Rose sails to deep water where nobody can see her.”

  “How would you know to come get us?”

  “That’s a problem I’ve yet to work out.”

  They left it at that. The following morning the ship slowly sailed into the mouth of a bay and lowered most of her sails. The ship rotated enough for the bow to point at the mouth of the bay, ready to escape. The men stood by the sails.

  Nobody attacked.

  The island was lush. A single mountain rose before them, the slope falling down the side almost to the water. Only a thin strip of beach allowed people to build and farm. The green of the foliage was darker green than Tanner had ever seen, and the water bluer. Palms and bananas dominated the lower slopes.

  A large rowboat with two men, each pulling a pair of oars put out from the village approached at a stately pace as if they couldn’t be bothered rowing any faster. As it neared, a man sitting in the bow wearing a colorful red shirt called out and asked for permission to board.

  He climbed a ladder lowered over the side of the ship and climbed aboard with a smile and a tip of his straw hat. The others stayed in the rowboat. He was dark-skinned, tall, and thin. His teeth were the whitest Tanner had ever seen, and perhaps the biggest. He shook hands all around and welcomed them. In a few sentences, he offered to replenish their water and provide fruits, vegetables, salted meats, and fish.

  He drove a hard bargain, speaking for the people of the entire island. They didn’t get many visitors and seldom had the opportunity to sell their goods for hard coin. The price was set high but not outrageous. Tanner would have paid far more, but the first rule of successful negotiations is to make the other party think they won. The ship dropped anchor where instructed and the man returned to his boat and rowed ashore to arrange the food.

  Captain Jamison lowered two of his boats, and each carried empty water barrels. They rowed for the creek and up it far enough to fill the barrels with fresh water. In no time, five more boats rowed in their direction, one containing the spokesman, who again came aboard to inspect the supplies with the Captain.