Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles

by Sullivan, Stephen D (v1. 1)

  “Let go or I’ll drop her,” Tanalish hissed. She snapped at Shimmer’s face, but he ducked out of the way.

  “You don’t dare,” Shimmer said. “Kell wouldn’t allow it”

  Tanalish tucked her wings and sent them into a frenzied spiral. She coiled her tail around Shimmer’s and continued to bite at his face. Shimmer fought back, fending off her foreclaws with his own and counterattacking with his horns.

  Red, oily sweat began to bubble up on his bronze carapace. He panted with the effort, his breath sounding like huge bellows.

  Tanalish laughed and brought one armored knee up into her opponent’s belly. She jerked away, disentangling the two of them. Ula’s guts jumped as the brass dragon lurched upward again.

  Momentarily falling, Shimmer lashed up with his head. One of the long spikes behind his horns slashed across Tanalish’s cheek, close to her eye. The brass dragon screamed.

  “Son of a fetid egg!” she howled. “You’ll pay for that.”

  Turning, she lunged straight at Shimmer’s eyes. The bronze dragon ducked aside, hut it wasn’t his face Tanalish aimed for. Throwing her jaws wide, the brass dragon sank her long fangs into Shimmer’s left shoulder, right where it joined his crippled wing.

  * * * * *

  “Look at them go!” Trip said, using one hand to shield his eyes from the wind and rain. The battling dragons looked like metallic birds high up in the storm. “I wish they were closer, so we could see better.”

  “So do I,” Mik added, hefting Ula’s fallen spear.

  “Thank the gods they’re not,” Jerick the Red growled. “We’ve enough trouble as it is.” He was rallying his men to secure the sails before the storm ripped them to tatters.

  Mik ducked out of the way of a loose line whipping over the deck. “Ship to starboard!” he cried, pointing. “Ship to starboard!”

  Over the top of a huge swell surged Lord Kell’s trireme, its brass ram aimed straight at Red Wake’s hull.

  Thirty-Three

  Collision Course

  Shimmer howled and tried to pull away, but Tanalish shook her head and sank her teeth further into his shoulder. They writhed together amid the storm, thunder crashing all around.

  Ula felt as though she would be shaken to pieces in the lady dragon’s claw. Closing her mind to the crushing pain in her guts and spine, she wormed her left hand toward the hilt of the dagger at her waist. Her fingertips brushed the pommel, and hope sprang anew in her heart. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around it and pulled the knife from its sheath.

  Shimanloreth bellowed in pain as bits of flesh and blood splattered out of his wounded shoulder and wing. He smashed the side of his head against Tanalish’s face. They were falling now, her wings barely holding them aloft. She didn’t seem to care if they crashed into the raging sea far below.

  He snapped at her eyes. The brass dragon blinked and loosened her grip momentarily. Shimmer rammed Tanalish with his nose, and her jaws ripped free from his shoulder. She spat out his flesh and turned to attack once more.

  Shimmer opened his mouth and flashing white energy leaped from his maw into Tanalish’s startled face. The lady dragon screamed, writhing in pain. Her talons flailed wildly as every muscle in her huge body spasmed.

  Tanalish’s claw jerked open. Before Ula could grab hold or lash out with her dagger, she fell, plummeting toward the storm-tossed ocean far below.

  * * * * *

  “Hard to port!” Mik yelled. “Hard to port!”

  “Do it!” Jerick bellowed at his startled helmsman.

  The mate spun the wheel frantically with all his might.

  The brass-armored trireme lunged toward them over the heaving waves. A flash of lightning revealed Lord Kell standing by the triarch’s chair in the stem, his gray eyes gleaming in triumph.

  Red Wake responded slowly, fighting against the pull of waves and wind. She veered left, her gunwale nearly dipping into the water as the raging surf threatened to roll her over.

  Another flash of lightning. The trireme drove in on them, its brass-headed ram aimed for the galley’s starboard flank. A huge wave surged over Red Wake's side, dashing seamen to the rail; many barely avoided being swept overboard.

  Mik and Trip kept their feet amid the chaos. The sailor grabbed a boat hook and tossed it to Jerick, then retrieved two more for himself and Trip. “If the angle is shallow enough,” he shouted, “we can turn them away!”

  “Man the boat hooks!” Jerick cried. “Prepare to repel attack!” But only a few crewmen reached the rail with boathooks in their hands. Mik and the rest braced themselves as the trireme swept forward.

  The rhythm of Lord Kell’s drumchanter rose above the voice of the storm. The trireme’s triple banks of oars cut through the crashing waves. Standing in the stern, Kell shouted orders to his helmsmen.

  Red Wake kept turning ever so slowly, the waves surging against her sides. She swung nearly parallel to the trireme’s course, presenting a difficult target for Kell’s brass ram.

  “It’s going to miss us!” Trip cried.

  “Not without our help it won’t! ” Mik said. “Ready on the boathooks! Heave!”

  They stabbed the long poles over the side and pushed with all their might. The iron heads of the hooks lanced into the trireme’s sides, each minutely altering the enemy ship’s course. The impact nearly knocked Mik and the others from their feet.

  They held on and watched triumphantly as the brass warship swung alongside. The crew of Red Wake cheered, but Jerick barked, “It’s not over yet!”

  The trireme shipped oars to avoid having them sheared off in the collision. The two ships groaned as their hulls met, side to side.

  “Now!” Lord Kell called.

  A company of brass-armored warriors threw grappling ropes onto Red Wake, catching her rail and tangling her rigging. The brass mariners hauled on the lines, lashing the ships into close contact.

  Mik hefted his boathook like a spear and took careful aim. As the brass galley settled alongside, he heaved the weapon toward Lord Kell. Kell didn’t see the makeshift spear coming; it flew straight toward his unarmored neck.

  In the next moment, though, a huge wave rocked the two ships. The boathook sailed past Kell’s left ear and stuck in the triarch’s seat behind him.

  The lord of the Order of Brass whirled toward Mik, murder flashing in his eyes. His deep voice thundered over the raging storm. “Take them!” he called to his warriors. “But leave Vardan for me!”

  In response, three dozen brass-armored seamen swarmed across the ropes binding the two ships together.

  Jerick’s crew responded quickly, drawing their weapons and snatching up belaying pins, boathooks, and anything else that might serve to fend off the invaders.

  But just as the two forces were about to meet, Jerick called, “Hold! Lay down your weapons!”

  “What?” Mik and Trip asked simultaneously “Lay down your weapons!” Jerick repeated. “We surrender.”

  *****

  Cold, swirling winds buffeted Ula as she fell. The wicked rain lashed against her body. Above her, Tanalish writhed in agony, the she-dragon’s brass-armored head charred and blistered.

  The joined key at Ula’s waist blazed brightly. An image of a huge diamond formed in her mind—but she pushed it aside. Red Wake looked so tiny below. And was that another boat alongside it?

  “What a stupid way to die,” she thought. “Dozens of enemies howling for my blood, and I’m going to be killed in a fall.”

  Though she knew hitting the water would undoubtedly kill her, she twisted her body and arced into a diving position. She ignored the aches of her flesh, the screaming of the wind, and the lashing of the rain, and focused on the surface of the sea far below.

  “Key to a fortune at my waist, and I’ll never get to see it,” she thought.

  A dark-winged shadow flitted overhead.

  Suddenly, she stopped falling.

  Shimmer screamed in agony as he swept Ula into his arms. The wind turned t
he spray of blood from his mangled shoulder into a clinging red mist. As he gazed at the sea elf, his face and form became slightly more human.

  Ula smiled at him. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” she said.

  “I’m not sure ... I can save us,” he gasped.

  “At least you tried.”

  Something hard smashed into them, and the world went black.

  * * ** *

  “How can we surrender?” Mik asked angrily.

  “Use your head, lad,” Jerick replied. “We’re outnumbered and out-armed. A storm is no place to be fighting. We’ll need all our strength and wits just to pull through this.”

  “What makes you think they’ll let us live?” Mik asked.

  One of the brass warriors near him charged. The sailor spun and clouted him on the back of the head with the pommel of his scimitar. The man crashed to the deck with a soggy thud.

  “Call off your dogs, Kell,” Mik barked. “I won’t be so kind to the next one.”

  “Hold!” Lord Kell cried. “Hold!”

  “Any of my crew who fights,” Jerick bellowed, “will be answerin’ to me!”

  The crews of the two ships cautiously backed away from each other, leaving Kell, Jerick, Mik, and Trip standing alone in the middle of Red Wake's quarterdeck.

  Mik and Trip glanced at each other, neither willing to put down his weapons just yet.

  Jerick threw his arms wide. “What is this, Lord Kell?” he said. “We’ve no need to fight I’ve no quarrel with either you or the Order of Brass. If you’d asked us to heave to, we would have. Gladly.”

  “I doubt some of your passengers would comply so willingly,” Kell said.

  “I gave your man no more than he deserved,” Mik replied. “Have you taken up piracy now, Lord Kell, or are you still out to avenge some imagined slight to your honor?”

  “Look out!” Trip cried, pushing Mik aside. As the-sailor and the kender fell, a huge shape crashed onto the deck beside them.

  The crew gasped as part of the battered and bloody form moved. It was a half-dragon, half-human creature, slightly larger than a minotaur, and covered with bronze armor.

  “Shimmer!” Mik said.

  Shimanloreth rose slowly to his knees as Mik and Trip knelt by the prostrate form of Ula, lying on the deck beside him. The sea elf was covered with blood, though how much of it was her own Mik could not tell. The bejeweled key at her waist glowed faintly.

  “Take them!” Lord Kell barked, pointing at the group. “Alive, if you can, but take them!”

  “Stop!” Jerick said. “We have no quarrel!”

  “Stay out of this,” Kell replied. “Do as I say! Now!”

  Kell’s brass warriors surged forward. As they did, Shimmer opened his half-human mouth. A huge cloud of greenish black gas belched forth. Shapes writhed within the roiling cloud—hideous shapes culled from the nightmares of each warrior.

  The seamen stopped and retreated. Some dropped their weapons and fled back to their own ship. Others cowered in the corners of Red Wake's deck—keeping as far away from the bronze dragon as possible.

  “Must I do everything myself?” Kell asked, striding forward. He lowered the tip of his coral lance.

  Mik rose to meet him, standing between the lord and his wounded comrades.

  “Ula! Are you all right?” Trip whispered frantically. “Wake up! We’re in a real jam here!

  “She’s alive,” Mik said to Trip, though his gaze remained fixed on the brass lord. “Though not for much longer if Kell here has his way.”

  Just then, Karista Meinor clambered aboard the Red Wake. “The key, milord,” she said. “Vardan, the kender, and the elf aren’t important. We came for the key. Remember?”

  A thundering scream rent the air. All eyes turned skyward as Tanalish, burnt and bloody, swooped down toward the ship. Her body melted and changed, adopting both human and dragon characteristics until she resembled a hideous, bat-winged harpy.

  “Let me destroy them, Benthor Kell!” she bellowed as she approached. “The sea elf and her hound are no match for me!” The dragon dove through the rigging toward Shimmer and Ula.

  Mik stooped down and ripped the bejeweled key from Ula’s waist. Before anyone could react, he rose and sprinted to the rail.

  “Stop her!” he commanded Lord Kell, dangling the artifact over the crashing waves. “Call your dragon off, or you’ll never see the key again!”

  Thirty-Four

  An Uneasy Alliance

  “Milord!” Karista gasped, eyeing the artifact nervously.

  “I mean it,” Mik said, as Tanalish swooped closer. “I’ll drop it and neither you nor your dragon pals will ever see it again.”

  “Hold, Tanalish!” Kell cried. “Don’t kill them.”

  The harpy-like dragon backed her wings and hovered overhead. “They are worms, Benthor Kell,” she said. “They deserve death. If he drops the trinket, I will find it again.”

  “Call her off,” Mik repeated. “Then maybe we can talk.” Benthor Kell glared at Mik, then Ula. “Very well,” he said, not taking his eyes off the sea elf. “Leave them, Tanalish.”

  The dragon’s green eyes flashed, but she said, “As the will of my lord, so is your own, Benthor Kell.” She landed on the deck and resumed her human form—though the damage from her battle with Shimmer had scarred her perfect face and figure.

  “Send your warriors back to your ship, first,” Mik said.

  “Your dragon can look after them,” added a familiar voice. Battered and bloody, Ula slowly lifted herself off the deck and stood beside Mik.

  Tanalish glanced warily from Ula and Mik to Lord Kell. “Do not trust them, Benthor Kell,” the dragon warned.

  “I don’t,” Kell replied. “See to the ship. I’ll call if I need you.”

  The dragon nodded and withdrew, along with Kell’s brass warriors.

  Jerick pulled a red kerchief from his pocket and mopped his face. “If you don’t mind,” he said, “I’ll secure my ship against the storm. Plenty of time for parley once this blows over.”

  “We’ll wait,” Kell said.

  “I thought you might,” Mik replied.

  *****

  The storm rolled back by midnight, and the clouds parted just enough for the silver moon to peek through. Sporadic rain still dappled the waves, but the winds died down and the surf ebbed considerably.

  The crews of both ships worked diligently to return their vessels to fighting trim, and soon repaired most of the major problems. Tanalish kept watch on the bridge of the brass galley, while Lord Kell and the others met in Jerick’s cabin aboard Red Wake.

  Ula’s wounds were superficial; the bronze dragon’s injuries were grave, but Red Wake's excellent healer patched him back together with bandages and herbs. By midnight, Shimmer felt well enough to join the parley.

  The two factions stared at each other from opposite sides of the room, while Jerick sat in the middle, trying to arbitrate. The bronze knight leaned against a wall, his visor closed, his orange eyes grim. Mik, Ula, and Trip stood near him, unwilling to relax in the presence of their enemies.

  “My old friends,” Karista said. “I’m so sad that we’ve reached this impasse. As I see it, you need our protection and aid as much as we need the jeweled key. If we are to ally, each ship should gain equal shares.”

  “Before we parted,” Mik said, “you told me you had no interest in the treasure.”

  Karista shrugged. “Situations change. You know that, Mik. The treasure is the dowry I need to win a trade concession. I know the Prophecy as well as you. I hired the expedition that brought us here. It’s only right that I should share in the proceeds.”

  “Fish oil!” Mik said. “The chance for the treasure was the price I agreed to when you hired me.”

  “That, and the retirement of your previous debts,” Karista said. “That was, of course, before you sank my ship.” “I sank your ship!”

  “Well get nowhere hashing over old accounts.” Jerick said, interrupting t
his argument, not for the first time. “The point is, why fight over this loot if there’s enough to share?” “Perhaps you can find this treasure without us,” Kell replied, “and perhaps we can claim it without you. However, you’re fools if you think we’ll just row away and leave you to it. We can stay at sea much longer than you can; Tanalish is our supply line. We’ll wait you out if we have to.”

  “You forget,” Mik said, “we still have the key.”

  ' “Now, now,” Jerick said. “No need to get hostile again. It seems fair to me that we should divide the treasure between our ships. The question remaining is, how to make the division?”

  “I’ll take nothing less than half,” Kell said.

  “Nor will I,” Karista added.

  “So, we give you half, or you dog us until we quit?” Mik said.

  Kell nodded.

  “Since the Order patrols these waters and keeps them safe,” Jerick said, “a half share seems fairly reasonable.”

  “But no more brawling or back-stabbing,” Mik said. “Everyone gives up their grudges and works together. Otherwise we’ll refuse. I won’t have the Order plotting against us while we search, or after we’ve found the loot. I’ll throw the key into the ocean before I allow that. We split anything we recover in half, then everyone walks away with no hard feelings.”

  “Agreed,” Karista said, smiling.

  “And the brass dragon goes,” Ula added.

  “Preposterous,” Kell replied.

  Mik shook his head. “Ula’s right. Either Tanalish goes away, or the deal is off. She’s too big an advantage for your side. I won’t have you playing her against us when things get rough.”

  “What about your dragon then?” Karista asked pointedly.

  “Shimmer is part of our crew—and he’s wounded besides,” Mik said.

  “The dragon goes,” Ula insisted.

  Karista smiled sweetly at Kell. The brass-armored lord nodded slowly.