by Alan Black
Mark said, “You eat and take your rest, I’ll watch for the Surr. I’ll give you plenty of warning.”
Tanden tossed his bowl to the ground and he stood over the man. “You are a generous man, but, if you please, show my men where you keep your water skins. I’ll rest much better once we’re prepared.”
Mark glanced around him and said, “I don’t know if we have enough skins for everyone.”
Tanden grabbed the man by the front of his tunic and lifted him bodily to face him eye-to-eye. He hissed, “I’ve had enough of your lies. If you speak any word other than the truth, I’ll cut out your tongue and use it to flavor this stew.”
The little fisherman was shaking as Tanden set him on his feet. He did not resist when Tanden reached into his shirt to retrieve the jewel and bracelet. Tanden continued holding the man in place with a firm grip on his tunic. He tossed the bracelet back to Tuller and dropped the jewel into I-Sheera’s hands.
She said, “I don’t understand. I made an honest trade. The jewel is mine to do with as I wish. Didn’t you tell me that?”
Tanden answered, “Yes I did, but our friend Mark wasn’t bargaining in good faith. Were you, Mark?” Tanden shook the little fisherman until his eyes rattled.
The man struck at Tanden, but when Tanden refused to flinch, the man put both hands on Tanden’s wrist and hung limp in his grip.
Tuller said, “He’s in league with the slavers. He took your treasure and planned to sell us all to the Surr.”
Looking at Tuller and Seenger, Tanden commanded, “Find all the supplies you can to stock the boat. Take whatever you find that we might need. I-Sheera, get Gadon on the boat. Make him as comfortable as you can, then help the others gather what food and water you can find.”
He stared into Mark’s face, “And you little man.” Tanden left the sentence unfinished. He dragged the man to the drying racks where the fish had been gutted and strung up to dry. He tied the man hand and foot to a post among the fish. “Did you sell the other villagers to the Surr?”
Mark shook his head, “No. No. I wouldn’t do that. They’re my family. They hide in the hills whenever the slavers come.”
“Why?”
Mark shrugged, “Who can trust the Surr? They hid so the Surr wouldn’t take them, too.”
Tanden said, “Too? Who did the slavers take?”
The little fisherman shrugged, refusing to answer the question.
“Speak. I’ll gut you and leave you to dry with your catch if you so much as look like you’re not going to do as I command.”
“We trapped other travelers and people from other villages and held them for the Surr. We didn’t have any choice. It’s not our fault. If we hadn’t done it they would have made slaves of the whole village.”
Tanden nodded, “Yes. I can see you’ve been poorly treated. How many times have the Surr visited here? And why do they set anchor to the east instead of at your dock?”
“Three,” Mark gulped. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Three. See. They built the big building for us to hold their slaves for them. They don’t sail up to our village. That way no one passing by becomes suspicious of us. It was their plan. They made us do it. We didn’t have any choice.”
Tanden walked away from the man, ignoring his whining pleas for mercy.
Tanden checked on his crew. I-Sheera was helping Gadon into the stern of the boat. Tuller and Seenger had found skins and clay jugs and were filling them from the cistern. Tanden walked back to the fisherman’s hut to search for anything of use. He found a bag of tubers and a basket of berries and wild fruits. He stepped outside in time to hand the food to I-Sheera. She took them from his hand and rushed back toward the boat.
Tanden looked into other huts. The occupants either left in a hurry or were poor housekeepers. He doubted there was anything worth retrieving from any hut. The villagers would have taken anything of value into the hills or the Surr would have taken it. He stepped into another hut. Everything inside was stacked neatly and stored away. The only thing of value Tanden found was a warm, woolen blanket.
He walked over to the big building that served as the holding pen for the slaves awaiting delivery to the Surr. He stopped at the doorway. It was empty, except for poles sunk into the ground, spaced evenly around the interior. Each pole had rings set into it to secure slaves. Even in the shadows, Tanden could see that the villagers let the slaves lie in their own filth and garbage.
He turned again to check on the progress of the crew. I-Sheera sat in the boat fussing about Gadon. Tuller had stowed the provisions and was making ready to sail. Seenger stood next to Mark with his knife in his hand, its blade glinting in the sun. Tanden was about to call to Seenger, when the ogre sliced through a line holding fish to the drying rack. The ogre bundled the fish in his arms, moved to the other pole and cut loose the other end.
Tanden nodded his satisfaction. He did not want to kill the little fisherman. Once the Surr found them gone and their trap spoiled, they would most likely enslave the man and his son. It would give them a taste of their own treachery. Their preparations for departure were proceeding at a good pace. They should be well away before the Surr could respond to the boy’s call.
Still holding the blanket and before heading to the boat, he had one more task to perform. He walked to the fire and picked up a flaming brand. He walked to the far end of the village and, one by one, set each hut on fire. At each hut, he stood patiently to ensure the flames caught. Slowly, he walked back to where Mark stood, shaking against his bonds.
Standing quietly in front of the little fisherman, Tanden looked at his crew. Tuller had the small craft loaded and ready for a fast exit. The boat’s sails were up, but luffing without catching the wind. A good strong wind blew steadily from the west. A quick twist of the tiller would bring the sails into the wind.
Tanden doubted the little man’s claim that his fishing tub could outrun the Surr boats. It was the best ship to get them to Stantinstadt because it was the only available ship. It certainly would be better than walking.
I-Sheera and Seenger ran to Tanden.
He handed the woman the blanket, “For Gadon. Wrap him up tightly against the sea breezes. Get him to drink as much water as you can, then let him sleep. Go, I-Sheera.” He pushed her, not unkindly, toward the ship.
Seenger pointed his knife at the little fisherman. He asked Tanden, “What do we do with this thing?”
“Well,” Tanden said, “I haven’t had good liver in a long time, but we don’t have time. Leave him here. I doubt the Surr will be happy with him for letting us to get away.”
At Tuller’s shout, they spun around. The man stood on the rail of the ship, pointing out to sea. Tanden could see both Surr boats slicing through the waves. With their sails down, they must have put men to the oars to make headway against the wind coming straight out of the west.
Tanden and Seenger started to sprint toward the boat.
Tuller called, “Come on, hurry.”
Tanden caught sight of Surr coming through the trees and bushes at the edge of the village. They would cut him off before he could reach the little dock. He grabbed Seenger’s arm and spun him about to face the invaders.
Tanden shouted to Tuller, “Stay with the boat.”
Tanden must have underestimated the speed of the boy or the reaction of the slavers. The four Surr bearing down on them must be the fastest of the slavers. Others would surely follow. The men did not look tired for having run five or six miles. They bellowed war cries and ran straight at Tanden and Seenger. Only the craziest Surr berserker warriors attacked an armed ogre.
Tanden and Seenger roared their response and charged directly at the oncoming warriors. Tanden focused his attention on the two men on the left. A large blond warrior stood foremost in his sight. The man carried a huge wood hammer, carved and banded in black iron. The muscles of his bare arms rippled as he raised the hammer over his head, ready to crush Tanden’s skull when he was in range. A second, darker man, followed close on the hee
ls of the blond. The dark man carried a short sword in each hand.
Tanden raced at the blond man, watching his eyes. Then, two steps before they collided, Tanden dived into the dirt. rolling into a somersault. Completing the roll, he came to his feet, crouching inside the man’s swing. The blow that would have crushed Tanden’s head, whistled harmlessly over his back.
Tanden buried his shoulder into the man’s midsection. He reached behind the warrior, thrusting his sword at the second man. Pushing up with his legs and flexing his knees, Tanden flipped the blond man over his back and with the same motion, drove the point of his sword into the stomach of the dark Surr.
The blond man had his back to Tanden as he struggled to his feet. Jerking his sword free, Tanden spun around in an arc. Using his momentum, he slashed deeply into the side of the big man. He released the sword and whirled around to face the dark man who was still standing but seemed stunned.
Blood ran freely from his stomach wound. Tanden whipped out his knife, stepped inside the man’s weak thrusts and drove the point of the blade under the Surr’s chin and up into his skull.
As the dark man fell, Tanden ripped a short sword out of his hand. Turning about, he shoved the sword through the back of the blond man until the point protruded from his chest. As the warrior fell to the dirt, Tanden grabbed the hilt of his long sword, jerking to free it from the man’s side. It came free suddenly with a sucking noise causing Tanden to stumble backwards over the dark Surr, lying dead behind him. Dust puffed up as his butt hit the dirt.
Tanden looked around for Seenger. He was slashing and backing away from his two attackers. Seenger bellowed his rage and hacked at the men with all his might as they continued pressing him slowly toward a burning hut. Seenger had a light cut on his sword arm and a deep gash on his thigh, but he was not allowing either man to circle behind him.
Two skilled swordsmen against one ogre was not even close to a fair match, no matter how overpowering the ogre was. This was a match of skill, not strength. The larger Surr would slash mighty strokes at Seenger, engaging the ogre’s sword, while the smaller, much faster Surr danced forward inside the ogre’s reach, trying to slice unprotected flesh.
Still on the ground, Tanden reached between his legs and pulled the knife free of the dead man’s skull. Blood spurted across Tanden’s torso and legs, but he flipped the knife to hold it blade first and let fly at the back of the nearest slaver. The blade bit deep into the middle of the man’s back. The man shouted apparently more from rage than pain. He spun about and leaped at Tanden.
Tanden rolled to his feet, slicing his sword upward at the slaver. Blade up, it sliced between the man’s wide-spread legs. Tanden straightened his back, pulled up on the sword, cutting into the man’s midsection. The Surr fell forward against him, grasping weakly at Tanden’s throat. He reached behind the Surr and gripped the hilt of his knife stuck in the man’s back, then twisted, and pulled it free. Though pale and weak, the Surr still stood with his hands clutching at Tanden’s neck. Tanden’s knife blade flashed across the slaver’s throat, finishing the kill. As the man fell to the ground, Tanden let the dead man’s weight pull away from his sword.
The remaining Surr swordsman was pushing Seenger backward driving him closer to the fire. The ogre was desperately slashing at the slaver. Tanden drove his shoulder into the slaver’s lower back catching the man unawares and he picked him up off his feet. The Surr flailed about, kicking Seenger in the middle of the chest, knocking the ogre off balance.
Tanden hurled the slaver into the flaming hut. With a quick flick of his wrist, Tanden dropped his knife. He stabbed a hand at Seenger, grabbing the ogre before he fell backward into the flames.
A war-whoop split the air. Tanden whirled about to see three additional Surr pounding toward them. Still clutching Seenger’s tunic, he yanked the ogre toward the dock. He bent down, grabbed his knife, straightened, and threw it backhanded at the three men running at him. Without waiting to see if the knife made contact, Tanden turned and sprinted after Seenger.
Running is never an ogre’s strong suit. Catching Seenger halfway to the dock, Tanden put an arm around the ogre’s waist and pushed, his legs churning to propel them both toward the waiting boat.
Tanden’s heart was pounding as they reached it. He leaped over the rail, dragging Seenger with him. The ogre crashed to the deck, tangling up in the ropes and nets scattered around the small deck. Tanden whirled about with his sword ready.
Tuller’s sword slashed down across the line tying the bow to the dock. He shouted a command to I-Sheera and she yanked the tiller, pulling hard as if by the force of her strength alone she could bring the boat around to the wind. Sluggishly, the fishing boat turned and the sails began to fill with the wind coming from the west.
Tuller had set both sails possible on the little boat, the main and the jib. The little boat faced the west, into the wind. Turning slowly to sail eastward and catch the wind, they crept away from the dock inches at a time.
Tanden calculated they would not be far enough away from shore before the first of the three Surr warriors reached them. As the boat rotated on its centerboard, he moved toward the port side near the bow of the ship.
A quick check of the filling sails told him any further turn on the rudder would cause the ship to circle and spill what wind they had gathered. He called over his shoulder to I-Sheera, telling her to center the tiller. He quickly turned back to face the slavers.
Seenger had untangled himself. Bleeding from several cuts, the beast stood ready to repel boarders. Tuller stood next to him. Both sailors shouted challenges at the Surr.
Tanden dropped his weapons to the deck and grabbed a long boarding pike. The pike was a primitive, but incredibly effective weapon used to repel boarders. This one had a foot-long blade fixed on the end of its eight-foot wooden shaft and an additional hook welded at the base of the blade, creating a multipurpose tool for docking and hauling in nets. Placing the flat end against the dock, he leaned his weight against the opposite end of the pike, willing the boat to move faster. The first man outdistanced the other two Surr. His feet pounded two steps across the little dock. He looked unconcerned about facing two armed men and an ogre. Shouting his defiance, he jumped from the dock toward the slow-moving boat with his sword held high, ready to slash downward.
The man was in mid-leap when Tanden whipped his pole into the air, driving the flat end against the man’s chest. With an audible whoof of air, the man halted in midair hanging on the end of the pike. He fell into the water between the boat and the dock. Leaning hard against the pole, driving the Surr under water into the mud along the shore, Tanden pushed the boat away from the dock, walking the pole down the side of the ship to the stern.
The sails filled and they began to pick up speed. They were four feet from the dock, ten, then fifteen. Tanden released the pressure on the pole. He saw the slaver bob to the surface, spitting water and dripping mud. The two remaining men stopped at the end of the dock, watching the boat move out of range.
Seenger shouted a challenge and a curse at the two in his native tongue. Tanden doubted either man understood ogre. Still, the hand gestures from both sides were easily understood, if not universal.
The boat was moving quickly. I-Sheera held the tiller with the wind directly at their backs. Tanden looked at the sails. The mainsail was full, robbing the jib of its full share of wind. They would soon be at their top speed on this course. With a practiced sailor's eye, he concluded there was no course available that would enable them to outrun the slavers. The slaver’s boats were slicing through the waves, oars flashing as they furiously rowed westward. Tanden’s newly acquired boat, pushed forward by the west wind, raced east, directly at the Surr boats. Armed slavers stood at the bows shouting at them, but they were still too distant to catch any words.
Tanden jumped to the tiller and shouted, “Hard to starboard. Come about, now. Set for beam reach.” Beam reach was a speed building position with the wind blowing straight sidew
ays across the ship filling both sails, slanting the deck. Without waiting for Tuller and Seenger to set the sails, he pushed the tiller hard to the left. The mast groaned as the boom jibbed, snapping around to the other side. The deck tilted.
The sailors danced over the jumble of items sliding about the deck as they ran to reach the sails. Each ducked expertly to avoid the swinging boom, the ogre bending lower. Tanden hoped the little boat would stand the strain of such a rapid maneuver, but it came around smoother and faster than any large ship could. Tanden centered the rudder as the ship shook and seemed surge forward. He felt the fishing boat settle back down, its deck and masts tilted precariously toward the sea.
I-Sheera lost her grip and began sliding across the deck. Tanden braced his feet against the side of the boat and grabbed her by the back of her collar. He lifted her onto the helmsman’s seat next to him. Tanden set one of her feet firmly against a brace. Her other foot he set against a nearby cleat. She was pale and her knuckles turned white as she clamped her hands onto the bench.
“Don’t tighten up,” Tanden said. “Keep your knees flexed and feel the movement of the ship.” He pried one hand loose from the bench and set it on the tiller. She tried to pull back, but he placed his hand over hers. “Hold the tiller here until I say otherwise. Understand?”
She nodded, “I’ll try.”
“Do more than try! Do it! Tell me you’ll do it.”
I-Sheera clamped her jaw shut. Her eyes took on a determined look. Through clenched teeth, she said, “I’ll do it. I’ll hold here until you say otherwise.”
Tanden patted her quickly on the leg, “Good girl. We aren’t done yet.” He released the tiller to her keeping. He spared a glance at Gadon lying in the bottom of a fish hold at their feet. I-Sheera had bundled him in the blanket and wedged him securely between two ribs of the hull. The angle of the deck made him look like he was standing on his head, but Tanden could see he was sleeping soundly.
Tanden checked the wind and the sails. His two crewmen were lashing the last sheet on the jib. He laid a weathered eye toward the Surr boats. They had changed course to intercept them farther along their tack. Tanden was sure they knew as well as he did that this little fishing boat could not outrun either of their boats unless the Wave Master could gain the downwind tack. Tanden could not see how that was possible against two boats unpowered by the wind.