Shawna rushed the other man, her swords reflecting the lantern light in shiny, orange arcs as they licked out like tongues of flame to slice open the sword arm of the pirate that had gained the deck. He screamed, but it died in his throat as Shawna’s backswing opened the arteries in his neck. His body dropped to the deck, kicking as he died slowly.
Dormael heard the telltale thumps of boots climbing the hull, and turned back to his own post, pulling one of his knives from his left boot. He set his spear aside and leaned out over the railing to begin sawing at the rope attached to the boarding hook. His eyes locked with those of the pirate, and the man’s eyes widened slightly as he furiously tried to make the railing before Dormael could cut his line. Dormael responded by sawing even more furiously.
He silently thanked himself for keeping his knives sharp as they line snapped, dumping the man back into the river. His back hit the side of his rowboat on the way down, and Dormael heard a sickening cracking noise before his body fell into the dark water. He didn’t resurface.
“Dormael! They’re coming up the stern!” Allen shouted from above, and Dormael turned his eyes toward the aft of the cog to see no less than six men emerge from the darkness there. Grumbling, Dormael hefted his spear and headed that way. He saw more men emerge on Shawna’s side of the boat, and D’Jenn was engaged in a melee as Dormael made his way past.
Blood and some sort of soft flesh matter splattered into Dormael’s face as passed his cousin’s fight. D’Jenn had brained one of the pirates, and the remnants of the blow had sprayed across Dormael’s face. That was just lovely.
Arrows flitted down from the crow’s nest and into the six men upon whom Dormael was moving to engage, and he silently cursed himself for rushing them with the spear instead of picking them off with the bow his brother had given him. It was too late to worry on it now, though, and Dormael had to continue on his way. The pirates were moving to start fighting Binnael’s sailors, and though he didn’t like the captain or the way he’d cheated Dormael and his friends, it was their job to protect them. If any one of them died, it would be a failure on the companions’ part.
Before he could make it to the stern, one of the men engaged in combat with D’Jenn stepped into Dormael’s path and swung a flail directly at his head. Dormael reacted instinctively, slipping his head as far back as he could, trying to get out of reach of the ball and chain. He barely made it, and he felt the wind of the passing flail on his face.
His answering thrust was just as instinctive, and Dormael silently cursed himself again for reacting without thinking. The wooden haft of his spear vibrated violently in his hand as the man knocked it aside with the return swing of his flail, but the man had made a mistake, and Dormael had gotten lucky. The chain of the flail wrapped around the blade of the spear as it was knocked aside, tangling the weapon with Dormael’s, and Dormael was ready this time. He used the momentum of the parry to pull the weapon from the pirate’s hands and planted a heavy kick to the man’s chest as he did so. The pirate let out a whooshing breath and staggered back, but Dormael didn’t give him any time to recover. He shook his spear to untangle the flail from it, and while the pirate was still stumbling backwards, he tripped the pirate with the spiked end, and when he hit the ground, he rammed the blade of his spear into the man’s chest. He was already stepping over the pirate as he pulled his spear from the dying corpse.
Three of the six men were already down, arrows sticking out of their bodies from different places, and Dormael got the jump on one of them, stabbing him in the back as he was turned and engaged in a fight with one of Binnael’s sailors. Dormael moved quickly, hopping over that man and running to engage the second, but the next one saw him coming. He turned to Dormael, brandishing a short sword that curved slightly at the end.
Dormael took a page from his brother’s book and leapt, stabbing downward at the pirate, screaming out in effort. The pirate was able to parry the blow, and spun to the side and out of reach, but Dormael was filled with battle lust and he chased the man, pushing him back with short thrusts and feints. The man was better than Dormael had given him credit for, and he grabbed Dormael’s spear as he feinted at him once, pulling Dormael closer to him and trying to spin and throw a backhanded blow at Dormael’s head. Dormael let himself be pulled forward, but ducked under the blow and put all of his weight behind his spear, pushing the man off balance. Dormael landed atop the pirate on the deck of the ship, sending the pirate’s sword clattering across the deck, and with the spear pinned between them the weapon was useless. The pirate threw three sharp elbow jabs into the crook of Dormael’s neck, and his shoulder went weak and numb with pain, but Dormael pushed his body upwards and into the elbows, and was able to pin the pirate’s arm up above his head.
Both men let out savage grunts as they struggled against the other, and Dormael’s muscles burnt with the effort of the battle. Once he had the pirate’s arm trapped, Dormael was able to work one of his own arms free of the struggle and reach to his right boot, whipping another knife from it. The pirate punched him repeatedly in the side with his own free hand, but the leather armor Dormael wore deadened the blows enough so they were painful but not debilitating. He stabbed the pirate twice in the side, and as the man moved his arm down to instinctively block the knife, Dormael rammed the blade into his throat. Blood sprayed up and he felt the hot fluid running over his hand, but he rode down the man’s dying struggles until he went still.
He looked up just in time to see the third pirate standing over him, raising a sword to take the killing blow. Dormael moved to roll aside but he knew he’d be too slow. Just when he thought he was going to die, an arrow blossomed from the man’s throat, spraying blood onto Dormael’s face and into his eyes. He fell over, and Dormael saw his brother lower his bow. Dormael nodded at him in thanks, gulping in the night air.
The noises of battle had died down, and now all Dormael could hear were the shouts of the sailors and splashes as the pirates’ bodies were tossed overboard. He gathered his spear and stood in time to meet D’Jenn and Shawna as they trotted up to speak to him. Allen began to climb down from the rigging.
“That was close,” Dormael said, “but honestly I expected something more than that.”
“Aye,” D’Jenn nodded, “but we shouldn’t drop our guard just yet. That could’ve been just the spearhead.”
“How many more assaults like that can we handle? Binnael already lost two men to the pirates,” Shawna said, sheathing her swords.
Dormael cursed under his breath, but D’Jenn just shrugged and said, “It was his own planning that caused the death of his men. We’re not nearly enough to protect this vessel, especially when it’s carrying a belly full of gold, for Eindor’s sake.”
Just then Allen came jogging over to them, “Dormael, D’Jenn – you have to see this.”
“See what?” both cousins said in unison.
“Just come up to the nest. We’re in trouble.”
****
“Evmir’s bloody hammer,” Dormael cursed.
The crow’s nest was crowded, even with only himself and D’Jenn occupying the thing. Luckily, the mists appeared just a bit thinner from up here, and it allowed the cousins to see a little farther than they’d been able to from the deck. On the other hand, the sights weren’t very reassuring.
Dormael gazed out before the ship, and could see that the river parted into a network of smaller channels here, dotted with low lying islands and sandbars covered in heavy vegetation. There were only two channels that looked wide and deep enough for the Midwife to sail through, and the channel to that snaked slowly off to the east was open – but the one they were currently bobbing through was blocked. Dormael could see the masts of a sunken ship sticking from the water, and if the Midwife attempted to sail past, the hazards beneath the water could risk tearing through her hull; assuming she was able to get past it.
To make matters worse, behind them there were two ships rowing hard from side channels in the bogs, with lanterns on the stern an
d bow lit brightly on both.
“They want us to see them coming,” D’Jenn commented as he watched the ships approach, “and force us into the eastern channel. Binnael says that the channel splits here, but that both of them come out on the other end of the bogs. No doubt they’ve got another ship or something close waiting farther up the eastern channel. They’re going to try and surround us. Force us to yield the boat to them.”
“We had the advantage of size during that last assault,” Dormael said, “Those ships behind us look to be only slightly smaller than this old cog, and we’ll quickly lose the advantage with two of them attacking us. We barely made it through the last battle, in fact.”
“Do you think you can move that sunken wreck if I buy you the time to do it?” D’Jenn asked.
“With magic? I’m not sure…that’s a lot of weight. The wreck, the water that’s inside of it, and not to mention what could still be in the hold, or any dirt that’s built up around it…it’s going to take some doing, that’s for sure. I don’t think I’ve ever moved that much before.”
“Is there a chance, coz?”
“There is. You want to risk the exposure?” Dormael asked.
“We have no choice at this point. We fight off two ships here, or we fight off three or more, later.”
“You care that much about Binnael and this gold?”
“I care about getting to Orm as quickly as possible, before Victus’s lackeys catch up to us, or the Vilth does. We’ll do what we have to. Are you up for it?”
“I’ve been waiting on you to say that all night. Just keep those ships off our backs. I’ll get that wreck out of our way, one way or another,” Dormael said as he cracked his knuckles.
D’Jenn smiled, “Good. Let’s get started, then.” With that, D’Jenn leaned over the side of the crow’s nest, and boomed in a loud voice, “Binnael! Drop the anchor!”
The balding, sour faced captain strode to a place underneath them that he could shout back and forth with D’Jenn.
“What? Are you crazy?” he shouted back.
D’Jenn sighed, climbed from the nest, and dropped into the open air. Dormael felt the tingles across his skin that told of his magic being used, and he saw D’Jenn enact the floating spell that Dormael had taught him back at Ferolan. Dormael smiled.
D’Jenn floated to the deck and landed amidst the astonished stares of the sailors and their captain, whose face had gone white with fear.
“I said,” D’Jenn commanded, “drop the bloody anchor. Do it now!”
Binnael nodded, backing away, and started shouting orders to his men. The sailors moved, one by one tearing their gazes from D’Jenn and going back to their positions. Dormael laughed openly, feeling elated now that he could again open his Kai.
He did so then, feeling the timeless energy of the magic moving through everything around him. It greeted him like an old friend, wrapping him in a feeling of warmth. Dormael threw his own legs over the side of the crow’s nest and nodded at Allen who smiled back at him, gave him a makeshift salute, and dropped into the open air himself.
He landed lightly, using the same spell, and stalked up to the bow of the ship. He spotted Shawna wrapping her arms around Bethany and walking quickly below with the child, and nodded to himself. He’d been about to ask the girl to look after his daughter, but it appeared that Shawna had been one step ahead of him.
He reached the bow, and stepped up on the forecastle, throwing his arms out wide and closing his eyes. He could feel the magic all around him, touching each tiny droplet of mist with a musical tone and resonating through his senses. That would have to be the first thing he took care of. He coaxed the magic out into the mist, and bid the water that hung lightly in the air to come together and rejoin the river beneath it. The mist began to clear, coalescing into droplets of water and pattering back into the river, and the night cleared before him like the Gods had withdrawn a theater curtain.
The moonlight shone down on the dark water before him, and its reflection made it appear that there was a silver pathway laid before him that led the way to the two masts that stuck up from the water like reaching fingers. That was a big ship. Dormael took a deep breath, and reached into the water with his magic, and sent his power down into the river.
****
“Allen! With me!” D’Jenn called, mounting the stairs to the stern castle, “And bring that bow and as many arrows as you can get your hands on!”
D’Jenn didn’t wait for his cousin to meet him, he just continued up the stairs and mounted the stern castle, peering back the way they’d come. He felt his Kai raging through him like a storm, and used a bit of it to clear the mist from behind them, collecting the moisture into a roiling mass of water that undulated a few links above the surface of the river. He held it there and regarded the scene behind the Midwife.
The situation was direr than they’d originally thought. The two ships that were pursuing them had just started slow turns out into the channel in which the cog now floated, but running before them were four separate rowboats, all packed with pirates. In every boat there was at least one man holding a bow, and as the mists abruptly cleared, they began to quickly nock arrows and make ready to draw. D’Jenn didn’t give them a chance.
He used the roiling globe of water that he held above the water, and with a thought, spread the water out into a thin bar-like shape that hovered a few hands above the river surface. With another thought and a flick of his wrist, he sent that water shooting over the river’s surface as fast as he could possibly manage. The water smacked into the archers, sending them tumbling backwards and into the river, though most of the pirates had been crouched under it already, or had been able to duck.
Allen reached him then, holding two bristling quivers of arrows before him, and D’Jenn reached out with his magic, gripping the arrows in the grasp of his Kai. A few of them floated up out of the quivers, turning in the air and pointing toward the targets on the water. D’Jenn pushed a little extra power into them, holding it back until the arrows almost glowed with heat. Then he released them, and about six of them flew through the air with a hissing sound, leaving a trail of light steam or smoke behind them. Seven men fell, the arrow wounds catching a fire with tiny flames around the holes, and one arrow actually going completely through the belly of one man to sink into the chest of the man behind him.
The pirates began to scream, and many of them abandoned their rowboats and plunged into the river, trying their best to stay underwater and out of D’Jenn’s sight. It was no matter – he’d foiled their attack, and that was all he’d been trying to do. Next would come the harder part.
The ship suddenly bucked beneath them, and a tremor ran through the river, sending the surface into a frenzied chop. D’Jenn started as he realized that the stern of the ship was slowly rising out of the water. He felt the deck shudder and vibrate beneath his feet, and the feeling amplified as he felt the sensation of Dormael’s magic crawling over his skin like a thousand spiders. He’d barely felt it that strong before, and he thought he could hear the inherent strain in the song of his cousin’s Kai.
He cleared his head, banishing the song from his thoughts and turned to Allen.
“Do you think you can hit one of those ships from here?” he asked.
“Not with this short bow,” Allen said, shaking his head.
“Alright. Just aim straight at them, then. You’re going to have to hold the shot until I tell you to take it. It’s going to get steadily harder until I tell you to let go, so just expect it. We don’t want these shots going anywhere but exactly where we want them,” D’Jenn explained.
“Alright,” Allen said with a dubious tone. He shrugged and nocked an arrow.
“Draw whenever you’re ready,” D’Jenn said.
Allen set his feet as best he could against the teetering deck of the cog, but he sighted and drew the bow to its limit.
“Ready,” Allen grunted.
D’Jenn reached out into the magic and pulled ever
y bit of energy he could from the surroundings. The air grew cold around them; and his breath and Allen’s began to mist out in front of their faces. He poured the energy steadily into the arrow, charging it until it started to glow with a sullen yellow light. Allen grunted and strained against the bow, holding the arrow back as D’Jenn Infused the arrow with pure energy and magic. Sweat beaded on Allen’s face, and D’Jenn saw his cousin’s shoulders begin to quiver a little with the strain.
“Loose!” D’Jenn shouted, and Allen expelled a grunt of relief as the bowstring twanged and the arrow flew free.
The arrow literally screamed through the night, burning a straight line of blazing light toward the ship on their right side. In the distance there was a great crack and rumble as the arrow hit, and a blast of the same yellow light that left an impression on D’Jenn’s sight. He blinked and looked away, and when his vision cleared and he looked back, the hull of the ship was on fire.
“Very nice,” Allen breathed, stretching his arms and shaking them to loosen then back up.
“How many more shots do you think you can do?” D’Jenn asked.
Allen snorted, “I can do this all night cousin. Didn’t you know that my arms are made mostly of steel?”
D’Jenn smiled, “Good. Let’s give them another, then.”
They got six more shots off before the ships behind them were able to turn around and try heading south along the river. They were both burning with bright, yellow and orange fire, and one of them was riding low in the water due to what D’Jenn thought must have been a hole blasted through the hull itself. Allen gave a sigh of relief when D’Jenn told him to put the bow down, and D’Jenn glanced back to where Dormael was working his own spell.
****
Dormael’s Kai ran over the sunken ship, feeling along the edges to try and determine how hard this was going to be. There was a hole in the hull of the ship, under the stern and half buried in the soft mud of the river bottom. The bad thing was that it was the only hole in the thing, and he’d have to slowly raise the ship from the bottom and let the water drain from it if he was to have any hope of lifting it at all – that is, unless he broke it up a little himself. He’d need to shake it loose of the muddy river bottom anyway, so why not do a little damage of his own?
The Sentient Fire (The Seven Signs) Page 85