by Duncan Lay
Then they were at the first bow and Bridgit pointed to two of the men.
“Cut the cord!” she ordered. “The rest of you, with me!”
The men began hacking away at the thick, twisted cord, with what looked like little success. She did not bother to watch them, instead rushing around to the next one, 10 paces away.
“Two more on that one,” she told them.
She left another two on the third one and then she and Dermot raced around to the fourth and last one. From here they could see a hive of activity in the docks. Men who had been timid in small groups were coming together into a mob, picking up whatever weapons they could find and advancing on the ship. They looked leaderless but surely they could still cause all sorts of problems.
Dermot drew his sword, ready to start hacking at the giant bow’s huge string but she stopped him.
“Load it first,” she said, pointing to where the mob was moving across the wharves, perhaps a hundred paces away.
Dermot looked at her blankly for a moment then helped her winch back the huge string. It had two winders set into either side and she had to use all her strength to turn her one as Dermot worked on the other and drag the string back to the point where it clicked into place. The bow had a rack of long spear-like missiles, each one the height of a man and the width of her arm and she and Dermot laid one into the central trough.
“Have you any idea how to aim this?” Dermot asked.
“Let’s find out,” Bridgit replied shortly. It was set onto a base that could turn all the way around and must have been counterweighted, because it was easy enough for the two of them to turn it to face the docks. Another wheel halfway down could be turned to lower or raise the tip of the bow and Dermot adjusted it to her satisfaction, clicking the ratchet into place.
“Stand clear,” she warned and slammed down the lever that held the string in place. It did not move. She heaved on it, exerting all her strength and it still did not move. Then she saw a large wooden mallet resting beside the weapon’s base and snatched that up and belted the lever with that.
The giant bow bucked on its base and the missile streaked out to smash into a stack of barrels at the edge of the wharf, sending several flying into the air and knocking down a pair of men.
“We missed!” she said disappointedly.
But Dermot was laughing as the mob scattered in all directions, ducking for cover rather than moving on the ship.
“Now we just have to break this one,” the farmer said jubilantly.
“Not so fast,” Bridgit said.
He turned around and she nodded down towards the end of the harbor wall. The bow shot had woken up the guards at the end of the wall and they were now running towards them.
Let’s go!” Dermot cried.
“Time for one last shot,” Bridgit countered.
He glared at her but, as she grabbed hold of one side and began to wind the huge string back, he cursed and rushed to help her. The first time they had done it, it had strained every muscle of her arms and shoulders. But with angry guards bearing down on them, it seemed to go much easier this time as fear lent strength to their arms.
The guards were but twenty paces away when they dragged the bow around to face them and she smashed the lever with the mallet once again. The bow was pointing downwards after their attempt at the mob on the docks but there was no time to raise it. And no need, either. The guards were so close the missile barely had time to drop. It took out the legs of the first two guards, bounced off the stone and knocked down another three of them, bringing the whole pile of them down in a heap. Most were unwounded but the two who had their legs ripped off were doing enough screaming for all of them. Bridgit smashed at the lever again, this time from the side, splintering the wood.
“Come on, before they get up!” she cried.
Dermot needed no further encouragement and followed her back along the wall, to where the other men were still fruitlessly trying to cut their way through the thick bowstrings.
“Smash the lever! We just need a little time to get away!” Bridgit shouted at them. She had no breath for any more and every muscle seemed to be aching after her exertions. But she willed herself to go on. They had come so far: she would not fail now.
A few blows with the mallets and the loosing lever was broken on the other three bows. No doubt they could fix that in a few turns of the hourglass but that was all they needed.
“Back to the ship,” she puffed but, as they turned to run back around, saw that the mob had reformed down on the docks. Worse, there appeared to be guards rushing to join them.
Bridgit was pleased to see the older children were clustered by the stern of the ship, sending slingshots whistling down at anyone who came close. But she was less pleased to see their way to the ship was now blocked.
“Down there. We need to swim for it,” she said firmly. She did not like that idea, for it had been several summers since she had swum more than a few strokes. She did not like Kerrin going in the cold water and maybe catching a chill, so had only ventured to the beach on the hottest summer days – of which there were few in Gaelland.
On the ship, sails hung limply from masts, but men were packed into a pair of rowboats and beginning to tow the ship away from the jetty. She judged their progress, not wanting to spend any more time in the filthy harbor water than necessary, when Dermot grabbed her arm.
“We need to go – those guards are back on their feet,” he warned.
Perhaps only half a dozen guards were sufficiently unharmed to want to tackle them but they were trained, armed and angry and her men, when all was said and done, were powered by fear and desperation rather than skill.
“Down the ladders. The ship will see us and pick us up,” she said, more in hope than certainty.
She pulled off the robe she was wearing and kicked off her shoes as well, until she was wearing just a short cotton shift that came down to her mid-thighs.
“Do you think you’ll be able to swim in heavy cloth?” she demanded of the men, when they stared at her. “Drop your swords and hurry!”
Wooden ladders were attached to the edge of the harbor wall and she led the way down, trying not to slip on the lower rungs, which had weed growing from them. She glanced over her shoulder to see the rowboats were moving closer, the ship picking up a little speed behind them. But it was so big that, even with men straining at the oars, it did not move any faster than a gentle walking pace.
She let go and clumsily splashed out, shuddering at the rancid smell of the water. Behind her, the other men jumped in, Dermot the last one down the ladder. He dived out from the ladder as the Kottermani guards arrived, shouting curses after them.
Bridgit floated on her back, watching them argue furiously with each other. After a few moments one of them pulled the others away and they raced back along the harbor wall. Bridgit watched them go with relief. If they hoped to turn the giant bows on their stolen ship they would discover an unpleasant surprise, she thought with satisfaction.
She swam slowly out to meet the rowboats, which did indeed alter course to pick them up. Her arms felt like they were about to fall off, while her legs had almost no strength as she kicked towards them. Every breath was a shuddering gasp and she had to fight not to suck in a mouthful of harbor water each time. For an instant she felt like closing her eyes and slipping below the surface, forgetting about all the pain and the struggle, but she saw Fallon and Kerrin in her mind’s eye and she struck out with renewed strength and energy.
Strong hands reached for her and dragged her over into the rowboat. She did not care that her soaked cotton shift clung to her or that most of her legs were showing. Five of the men who had broken the bows with her were also pulled into her boat, while Dermot and one other were pulled into the second boat. It made the rowboats crowded but it meant there were more hands on the oars as they hauled the huge ship along.
Bridgit felt herself shiver, despite the late afternoon sun, and wiped her face dry, looking aro
und. Over on the wharves, angry Kottermanis were shouting and waving angrily at them but they could do nothing. Despite the effort it was taking, the rowboats were making progress and the mob on the docks seemed to have no idea how to stop them.
The men were hauling away at the oars but they were out of time and she began to call the stroke for them. After a few moments they were together and moving better through the water, the rope tight between them and the ship they were towing.
“Keep going – we’re nearly away!” Bridgit encouraged.
And it was true. It was almost hard to believe but no ships were stirring to cut them off. She watched the handful of Kottermani guards up on the harbor wall attempt to hurl one of the giant crossbow bolts at the rowboats but its size and weight defeated them and it barely made it over the wall before splashing into the water.
Now there was a tantalizing glimpse of open water and the sea ahead and the men in the boats responded, pulling with the last of their strength to bring the big ship around the edge of the harbor wall and give it a chance to spread its sails.
Then Bridgit saw the surviving Kottermani guards at the end of the wall, where they could look down onto the ship as it went past. And they all had bows in their hands. There were only six of them but at the speed the ship and rowboats were moving, the guards would have plenty of time to bombard the rowboats, with the men packed tight in.
Before she could yell out a warning the guards loosed, aiming at the other boat. Arrows splashed into the water, sunk into the wooden sides – and into flesh. A pair of men were shouting in pain but, with the extras they had taken on, there were still enough for the oars. Bridgit was torn between horror at her people being forced to sit there and relief that it was not her boat.
She glared at the guards, wishing she had thought to loose more of the giant bows at them. They were drawing back their bows, taking their time about it, no doubt hoping to cause more damage this time around. Next moment they were ducking for cover and dropping their bows, holding their hands over their heads.
For a moment she could not understand it but then glanced back at the ship and saw her slingers lining the rail, hurling stones at the bowmen. They were too far away for the stones to do more than sting but it was certainly enough to disrupt them. Bridgit wanted to cheer them, then saw the angry bowmen select new arrows and change their aim.
“Get down!” she shouted at the ship as the bowmen loosed at them.
From this angle she could not see if any were hit but the bowmen were ignoring the rowboats to pepper the ship’s deck with arrows.
She turned back to the rowers. “Pull! Give it everything you have! We are almost there!”
The waves began to crash against the front of the rowboats as they dragged the ship out past the harbor wall, where the sea breeze made its sails suddenly billow. Suddenly the tow-rope went slack as the big craft picked up speed, surging forwards to overtake the rowboats.
“Down oars! Get ready!” Bridgit warned them. “Swing by on the far side!”
Both rowboats pulled across to one side, giving the ship a straight path out to sea. Whoever was steering the ship – Bridgit assumed it was Ahearn – brought them close, so close that it almost brushed past the rowboats, and ropes were thrown down to them.
“You go first,” Bridgit said.
“No, you get on board,” she was told.
The ship was moving faster now and there was no time to argue, so she grabbed the rope in both hands and was hauled rapidly upwards until hands helped her over the side of the ship. Just like the times when she had slipped out of the house to explore the city in secret, lines of women and the older children were walking back across the deck to haul the rowers upwards. They had six ropes going and they were bringing them over the side in rapid succession.
Nola and Riona rushed over to help her up, Nola offering her a fresh robe. She embraced them both before she pulled it on.
“We have done it,” she whispered. “All the plans we made in the darkness, they all worked!”
“You did it,” Riona said. “This was you getting us here!”
As they pulled apart, the last of the men came on board and fresh sails were unfurled, so it picked up even more speed.
Bridgit was the first to break their embrace. “Were many of the children hit by those archers?” she asked worriedly.
Nola smiled and shook her head. “We got them down below the rail as soon as we saw those archers aiming at us. But it worked – they left you alone!”
“But we still have wounded,” Bridgit said, looking at a line of men, those injured in the little fight by the docks, as well as the two new ones nursing arrow wounds.
“Get the children together. We need them to find as many cobwebs in this ship as they can. We have wounded men and nothing packs out a wound better than cobwebs. Ship this size, there has to be plenty of webs,” she told Riona. “Wash the wounds with saltwater, then seal them with cobwebs and honey. We’ll have to hope they can last until we get back to Gaelland and a priest who can help them. And Nola, get a few of the other women we know and start making a tally of supplies. We have at least half a moon at sea. We need to ration out the food so it lasts.”
She had barely finished speaking when there was a huge cheer from the massed people on the deck. Those who had families embraced their husbands and wives and children, those without just hugged each other and cheered their freedom, some of them even performing a little dance on the deck. Bridgit found herself the center of attention and had people bowing to her, patting her on the back and even kissing her hand.
“Three cheers for Bridgit, our leader and savior!” someone shouted and then they were all cheering her. That was more than uncomfortable and she smiled and nodded and waved but made her way up towards the stern. She could see Ahearn was at the wheel there and she wanted to thank him as well. After all, he was the one who had got the ship out of harbor and who would be guiding them home.
She made her way up to the steering platform, thinking that the last time she had done this was to speak to Prince Kemal. What would he be thinking now? She smiled to herself at that and waved to Ahearn.
He did not acknowledge her and she frowned. There was nothing in front of them and surely he could spare a moment. Then she was hurrying to his side as he slumped down from the wheel.
“Help here! I need help!” Bridgit bellowed as she tried to lift Ahearn.
He was too heavy but she was able to lay him on his side – and reveal the arrow that was sunk deep into his back.
He looked up at her but his skin was pale and his grip weak as he reached up to grab her arm.
“Sail north and east,” he whispered, then his eyes rolled up and closed.
“Help! Now!” Bridgit roared, fear racing through her. Without Ahearn, how were they going to get home?
EPISODE 4
CHAPTER 31
Kemal looked out across the sea as the stolen ship began to slip over the horizon and smiled to himself in satisfaction.
“High one, why did you let them escape?” the girl Ely asked.
He did not bother to reply. He had done more than let them escape. He had helped them escape. By his orders the ship that patrolled the entrance to the harbor had been sent down the coast, while almost all the guards had been removed from the way to the harbor and from the harbor itself. He was disappointed to see the guards set to watch the house had been killed, almost to a man, but it would merely add to the reports of an escape, make them more believable when read back in the capital, Kankara.
He ignored Ely and turned to Erdogan. “How many soldiers have been gathered at my orders?” he asked.
“A little over two thousand, high one,” Erdogan replied. “We have eight ships ready to load them now.”
“Then do so. I want to sail within two turns of the hourglass. I want to catch them by dawn,” he said. All would think he planned to catch and destroy them. Instead he would keep watch over them, make sure they were going in the r
ight direction and that nothing went wrong. And, when they arrived back in Gaelland, he and Fallon would face each other once more, each holding the other’s family. And he would take his revenge.
“What of the slave master Gokmen? Should he be sent to your father?” Erdogan continued.
Kemal broke away from his thoughts of making Fallon grovel. “No, bring him along, as well as any of the surviving guards who tried to stop the Gaelish, along with all the officers I spoke to earlier,” he said. Bringing them along would give him some extra men, men who would depend on him to protect them from the fury of the Emperor. And, of course, with them on board they could not spread any tales of how the Crown Prince had sent guards in all different directions, anywhere but the one place where they could have stopped the attempted escape.
“And make sure there is more than enough food on board for both the trip there and back. Who knows what the future will bring?” he said.
CHAPTER 32
Fallon cursed himself as he led the way back down the stairs to the King’s secret Fearpriest lair. How could he have forgotten the third way out of there? He had sent men around to Swane’s rooms, with orders to smash down the doors and block the way out. Surely they would arrive in time to stop the foul Prince from escaping? Unless there was another way out along the way …
Behind him came more men, as well as Brendan dragging the semi-conscious King. He would go into a cell until they decided what to do with him.
That was a question right there. After all their discussions and plans and plots, this had happened out of the blue. All he had wanted to do was get Kerrin, Feray and her boys out of there safely. From there it had spiraled out of control and now he had the King in his hands. But what was the next step? The Kottermanis were coming back and Prince Kemal, just like Aidan, was not going to be in a forgiving mood. Yes, he had just saved Feray and the boys from a Fearpriest but he was sure Kemal was not going to be overcome with gratitude. He had no ideas for what was to come, beyond hoping Duchess Dina might have some answers once she had replied honestly to all his questions. He certainly didn’t trust himself to find the right path from here. Chasing after Prince Swane was almost a relief, a chance to put aside these worries.