The Dragon Writers Collection

by DragonWritersCollective

  As they sailed into deeper waters, the wind gusted, churning the water to a choppy froth, and the western horizon was lost to view, despite the rising sun. Kenward surveyed the skies and the seas.

  "I'd hoped for wind to give us speed, but this weather may be too much for us. We cannot turn back now, though. The water will only get rougher, and we would be hard pressed to enter the cavern again. I'm afraid we must face the weather and the Zjhon on this day. May the gods shine their light upon us," he said solemnly. "We've a strong ship and a seasoned crew, and we've been through tighter spots than this."

  All on board kept a watchful eye on the horizon, looking for signs of enemy ships and gauging the weather. Catrin wondered if anyone else felt the intensity of the energy, as if the air were charged. Her carved fish sparkled in the light as she drew it from her shirt, and it looked nearly flawless. She left it out, exposed directly to the light. Breathing in the energy, she felt it flow through her, tingling and vibrating. Her head leaned back, she inhaled deeply, relishing the power as it pulsed around her. Part of her mind warned her against indulgence, but the ecstasy overwhelmed her. Never before had she felt the energy so strongly. It washed over her in massive waves, much the same as the waves' relentless assault on the cliffs.

  The energy made her body feel intensely alive, and she wanted desperately to use it. The warning voice in the back of her mind would no longer be denied, and she suddenly realized she heard little besides the wind, water, and rigging. She opened her eyes slowly, returning to the here and now and feeling the loss as she let the energy out of herself. When she focused on her surroundings again, she felt an uncomfortable silence, but it was broken when someone urgently announced enemy ships in sight. The crew sprang into action. Kenward commanded them by hand signals and guided the ship close to the cliffs to hide in the shadows. Everyone remained silent, and the tension grew exponentially as time passed.

  Zjhon ships were still visible in the distance, but they neither closed the gap nor appeared to be getting any farther away. Catrin felt in her gut that they had already been seen and were heading into another trap. The feeling persisted, and soon the Zjhon ships moved closer.

  "Break ahead!" the lookout called from the crow's nest, and they all looked in the direction he was pointing, knowing they needed to get free of the confining reef and reach the open seas. "Enemy ships charging the break, sir! They're going to beat us there!" he rang out a moment later.

  "Prepare for contact!" Kenward commanded. The crew moved with the swiftness of experience. They armed themselves, secured lines, and erected a protective enclosure around the helm. The captain climbed the rigging and joined the lookout, and when he climbed down, he was issuing a steady stream of curses.

  "You'd best get to your cabin, Catrin. We may be boarded, and there'll most likely be fighting on deck. Please remove yourself from harm," he pleaded.

  "While those around me risk their lives, I will not run and hide, Kenward. I am neither weak nor afraid."

  "Do you know how to use one of these?" he asked, drawing his sword.

  "I'm better with a bow, but I can wield a sword when I must."

  Kenward nodded and sent Bryn after a short sword and a bow. Bryn handed Catrin the sword in its leather scabbard. She drew it out to inspect it. The heavy blade was awkward in her hand, and she sheathed it, hoping she wouldn't have to use it. The bow was larger than she was accustomed to, but she could draw it. Slinging the quiver over her shoulder, she turned her attention to the Zjhon.

  As they drew closer to the gap in the reef, Catrin noticed an unusual apparatus on the bow of a Zjhon ship, but she didn't know what it was. The Zjhon ships stayed back, away from the breach, but they were close enough to close the distance quickly, especially with the high winds to drive them.

  "Bloody mother of a ballista! Those common som'bits," Kenward ranted.

  Catrin had never heard of a ballista, but when she looked again at the ship, she was appalled. The ballista resembled a crossbow, only much larger--far larger than any weapon she had ever imagined. A supply of huge bolts, which were the trunks of small trees, lay beside it. She didn't know if the Slippery Eel could survive any hits from such a massive weapon, and she dreaded the impact and aftermath if any struck their mark.

  "We're going to have to rush 'em and get the other ships between us and the ballista. We'll be vulnerable for a time, but I'm going to try to make that time as short as possible. That thing'll make a loud noise when they fire it, so be ready to take cover when you hear it," Kenward said. "We're going to shoot the gap at full speed, and then we'll head straight for those two ships. Be ready to repel boarding attempts; you all know the drill. For you newcomers: If it comes from the other ship, kill it. If it attacks you, kill it. And remember to cover my back."

  "I will be proud to fight beside skilled and honorable men," Vertook shouted, and a cheer rose up from everyone on deck.

  Though the break looked plenty wide enough from afar, it sloped down gradually on each side, leaving only a narrow channel. Going through it at full speed seemed folly, and the crew and passengers shared a nearly palpable anxiety. The gap rushed toward them, faster than seemed possible.

  The way looked clear, but still they braced themselves as the ship entered the channel. Dark water closed around them, and the Eel slowed and spun, scraping along the reef. The vessel creaked and groaned, struggling to break free, but the impact left it perpendicular to the reef, the waves threatening to drive the ship atop it. Kenward was busy shouting commands, but he stopped suddenly at the sound of an awesome thrum.

  "Take cover!" he shouted. The ballista bolt arched across the sky and struck the mainsail with a dreadful tearing sound. Kenward shouted more orders, and the crew rushed back into action. Bryn sprinted by with a long needle between his teeth and a ball of heavy string in hand. He scrambled up the rigging to the tear, which was steadily growing larger, but he got ahead of the ripping and continued to mend it, at times holding onto nothing but the sail itself.

  Again the ballista thrummed, and Bryn stopped stitching just in time to brace himself. This bolt struck the sail higher, tearing another large hole, but after piercing the sail, it glanced off the mast and whipped around violently. Bryn didn't see the blow coming and was struck in the back of the head. He went limp, and Kenward yelled for a net to catch him.

  Tangled in the stitching, Bryn's arm was all that kept him from falling. When he opened his eyes, he gasped as he realized his predicament. His movements were sluggish and awkward as he regained his grip on the rigging.

  "I'll be fine," he said, but then he braced himself as the ballista fired again. The ship dipped low amid the growing waves, and the shot flew harmlessly over the bow, the rough seas and high winds saving them from being struck. Despite his injury, Bryn persisted, and he slowly and deliberately climbed to the other tear and began stitching.

  While the attention of the crew had been focused on the ballista ship, the Zjhon had taken full advantage. Another ship was headed toward them on the starboard side at ramming speed. The Eel spun slowly away from the approaching ship.

  As the Zjhon ship came within bow range, Catrin nocked an arrow and drew. Looking down her shaft, she located a target. He was young and wore a look of determination and fear. There was no hatred in his eyes, only duty. She hesitated and closed her eyes, but in her mind's eye, she saw a Zjhon shaft strike down Irvil of the Sun clan. As quick as thought, she rotated and found a new target: the man giving orders. Her fingers slipped from the string and the arrow sped through the air.

  The man Catrin assumed was the captain of the Zjhon ship shouted one last order before he dropped over the side, her shaft protruding from his chest. Still the ship came and struck a glancing blow that sent the ships careening away from one another.

  The Zjhon ship was much larger than the Slippery Eel, and it rode higher in the water. Sailors leaped from the height to the decks of the Eel. Many landed without injury, but some were knocked unconscious when they hi
t the deck, and others missed the ship completely and plunged into the raging depths.

  One sailor landed not far from where Catrin stood, and she drew her short sword. The man smirked, seeing an easy victim, and he waved his sword menacingly. He approached slowly at first then suddenly sprung at her. Catrin was ready for his attack. She dropped to the deck, kicked him hard in the groin, and prepared to swing at his ankles. As he reeled from her kick, though, the anger on his face changed to utter surprise when Bryn swung down from the rigging and kicked him squarely in the chest. The sailor dropped over the railing without another sound, but Bryn lost his grip while fully extended and fell, faceup, landing hard. He looked up at Catrin, moaned, then passed out.

  When he did not wake, Catrin dragged him to the deckhouse and into the first cabin. She tried to comfort him before leaving, feeling that she should stay by his side but not knowing what else to do for him. When she returned to the deck, most of the fighting was over. Nat and a crewman forced a final tenacious sailor over the railing and looked for anyone else left to fight. Kenward issued roll call, and eight men failed to report, including Bryn.

  "Bryn was hurt in the fight. He banged his head twice and was knocked out. I took him to the first cabin." Kenward was overjoyed to learn Bryn was still with them, and he hugged her, kissed her on the forehead, and rushed to the deckhouse. Catrin joined the cheers when a crewman was pulled from the water. Six men lost were far too many, but it was much better than seven or eight.

  The man at the helm earned his keep, swiftly putting distance between them and the Zjhon ships, all the while keeping a Zjhon ship between them and the ballista ship. As they sped northwest, aiming for open seas, they trimmed the sails to take full advantage of the wind while the Zjhon ships lumbered in sluggish pursuit. The gap steadily grew, and the crew became less tense, but as the northwestern tip of the Godfist came into view, their spirits dropped.

  "Sails ahead, sir! I count a dozen northwest and three northeast! Zjhon outpost to the northeast and more ships on the horizon, sir!" called the lookout. The Zjhon had constructed a huge lift system for raising men and supplies to the mountain valley high above the sea. Luckily, it appeared mostly abandoned, and only three ships were moored in the harbor. Catrin began to feel much as she had when escaping from the desert--trapped--and the noose was tightening.

  Kenward changed course, angling between the ships approaching from the makeshift docks and those still out to sea. Ominous storm clouds darkened the western horizon, casting a depressing pall over the crew. Webs of lightning illuminated the clouds, and as the sound of thunder grew closer to the lightning, the wind intensified.

  The crew of the Slippery Eel pushed her to her limits, using more sail than was advisable in high winds, and the ship groaned in protest as it tore through the massive waves. Even with the speed advantage, it became obvious they would not be able to evade all the Zjhon ships. Whether the ships were part of a massive trap or were simply returning to harbor to wait out the storm didn't matter. It looked as if the Slippery Eel would be trapped between the Zjhon ships and the Godfist.

  Huge, growing swells crashed over the rails and forced everyone on deck to hold on to something. Many fled for the deckhouse, but Catrin fought her way to where Kenward had rooted himself near the helm.

  "I don't know which I fear the most," he admitted. "The storm alone could put an end to us, and there are far too many Zjhon ships to avoid. Every option appears to be suicide, and I cannot decide which death I prefer."

  Catrin knew in that moment that it was time for her to test her powers again. "Make for the center of the Pinook harbor," she said. Kenward raised an eyebrow and considered her a moment, seemingly trying to decide if she knew what she was talking about.

  "The center of the harbor? Are you certain about that?" he asked.

  "I am as certain as I've ever been about anything. There is no path that would not likely lead to our deaths except this one. Is there anyone with another plan?" she asked. "Make for the center of the harbor," she repeated after an uncomfortable silence. "When we arrive, drop anchor and prepare to ride out the storm."

  Kenward seemed convinced by the force of her convictions, gave a simple nod, and the crew did what they knew to do without another order.

  Darkness fell earlier than usual as storm clouds blotted out much of the remaining light and bands of horizontal rain pelted the crew. The winds forced them to lower part of their sails, and yet they still managed to maintain their speed. The seas were impossibly high. When in the troughs, Catrin could see nothing but walls of water on either side of the ship, and it looked as though they would be engulfed and sunk at any moment.

  The Slippery Eel entered the Pinook harbor in relative darkness and made for the deeps. Many Zjhon ships were already in the harbor, though most had dropped anchor in preparation for the approaching storm. Many were still making for the harbor and could effectively block their only route of escape. Catrin knew they had reached the point of no return, and as she looked at the crew, all eyes were on her. Holding her amulet tightly, she prayed . . .

  * * *

  Staring at the familiar knots in the richly grained wood of his cabin walls, Kenward wondered if this was the last day he would spend on the Slippery Eel. Memories of his first ship, the Kraken's Claw, flooded his mind with every sight and sound of her sinking. Wringing his hands, he prayed this was not another mistake.

  Catrin seemed sincere in her convictions, but escape from the harbor would be nearly impossible. Only the intervention of the gods could save him this time, and he could only hope they had not lost patience with him. Though he was not usually a religious or superstitious man, he found himself walking to the rails and tossing a gold coin into the dark waters, an offering to the sea.

  Having done what he could do, Kenward returned to his cabin, hoping it was enough.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The most awesome powers are those not wielded.

  --Enoch Giest, the First One

  * * *

  The journey to the center of the harbor ahead appeared endless to the crew of the Slippery Eel. The Zjhon ships already in port were secured for the storm, and they remained where they were anchored. It seemed no one noticed the smaller pirate ship, and nothing barred their path. Even if they had seen her, it would have taken hours for the large ships to pull up their many anchors and raise and set their sails. The Zjhon ships following them into the harbor were so busy contending with the storm that they had to concentrate on survival rather than pursuit.

  Catrin, alone for a moment, let her mind turn to a myriad of thoughts and emotions that she attempted to process. She didn't know if her friends were safe, and she felt a pang of loneliness and loss when she thought of them. When she thought of her father and her uncle Jensen, her heart nearly broke.

  Her thoughts flashed to memories of the animals on the farm: the horses, cats, and all her cherished companions. She hoped Salty and the other horses were in green pastures, and that Millie and the other cats had found good hunting. Tears slid down her cheeks, but she stifled her grieving, knowing she would need to focus her energy on survival.

  She did not want to destroy the Zjhon or their nation, but she could not allow them to continue their siege on the Godfist, and it was clear they would take over her homeland even if she escaped. No words would deter them; they would persist until forced to leave. She wanted to end the siege without the slaughter of men she realized were only doing their duty. That thought struck Catrin like a hammer blow: these men were not evil or her enemy; they were acting on orders. Archmaster Belegra was not evil either. He truly believed that what he did was good and right and protected his nation. Even if he was wrong, he was simply as fallible and flawed as any other person. The actions of the Zjhon were precipitated by prophecies and religious beliefs that spanned thousands of years. It was as if what they did was foreordained and inescapable.

  The Zjhon believed the Herald of Istra would descend on them and attempt to des
troy them. When she tried to look at things from their perspective, Catrin realized they perceived her as the embodiment of some ancient evil, as the reincarnation of a legendary adversary, and that it was their duty to protect their families and their nation from imminent destruction.

  She figured most of the Zjhon would seek high ground once they secured their ships. Rage burned in her belly when she imagined soldiers waiting out the storm at her family's farm. She felt an intense sense of personal violation but pushed it aside. Such self-indulgence would have to wait.

  In a universe filled with possibilities, she knew some solution must exist. Battle with the Zjhon seemed inevitable, but she could see no way to defeat such a superior force even with all the people of the Godfist. The Zjhon ships provided them food and mobility, and those things would allow them to starve out those trapped in the cold caves and the Masterhouse. The ships were the key; without them, the Zjhon would be stranded and lucky to survive the winter.

  Food was limited on the Godfist, the land barely supporting the current population, and the fields were untended due to the siege. The Masterhouse and the cold caves each had large stores of food and water, and though their food supplies were limited, they had proportionally more than the Zjhon would if deprived of their ships.

  Destroying a fleet was not something Catrin would have ever thought herself capable of, but she had to consider the events that led to this moment: She thought of the explosion that saved her from Peten's staff and the storm that ravaged the greatoaks. She remembered her actions on the plateau and the staggering effects of her power. Her abilities were undeniable. The striking of the artesian well proved her ability to accomplish previously unthinkable things when she used Istra's power.

  The storm, bearing down on the harbor, drove enormous swells toward land, and ships strained against their anchors. Catrin considered the storm, which was the biggest threat and possibly her greatest source of power. Whenever she reached for the comet, the energy seemed to form a spinning vortex, and she had the same sense of spiraling energy from the massive storm.