He heard the ship’s bell ring four times and the oarsmen leaned into their strokes and the Eagle sped up. Hawkeye wasn’t an expert at judging distance over the water by any means but he guessed that they were at least five ship lengths and opening the gap more and more. He didn’t think that they had sped up that much, then it registered on him; the Reaper had shifted its course to port. It seems the Reaper was planning on going around the opposite side of the pillar than the Eagle.
Glancing down at the captain, Hawkeye thought he saw a smile on her face once she noticed the change in the Reaper’s course. Once they were next to the stone column and the Reaper was on the far side and no longer in line of sight, Captain Forlorn executed her plan.
All lights on the ship were immediately extinguished and the ship made a one-hundred and eighty degree turn. Hawkeye was impressed with the speed and precision the Eagle made the turn. Now they were heading back the way they came but skimming the edge of the pillar until they found themselves almost directly astern of the Reaper.
As soon as the enemy ship came into view, the Eagle leapt forward with extra speed. This was what the Captain had been saving her oarsmen’s strength for, ramming speed.
Naval warfare was totally new to him but Hawkeye had to admit it was exhilarating.
Here they were, racing toward a larger enemy and watching the distance close between the two ships; all the time knowing that in mere moments they would be in a fight for their lives. It was exciting.
It was also obvious that Captain Forlorn’s change in course was a completely unexpected tactic. At the present time no one on the Reaper seemed to have noticed them. Since all commands on the Eagle had been given silently, they hadn’t heard them over the sounds of their own rowers. And now they were fastly approaching the much larger ship.
They were less than a ship’s length away when Hawkeye saw the helmsman look in their direction.
Not really knowing if the captain would approve or not, he drew back his great horn bow. Holding the arrow in the drawn position for a brief second, he felt a slight shift of the ship and a made a slight adjustment to his aim. Breathing out, he released the string. The arrow shot from his bow with a loud twang that echoed over the sound of the rowers.
The Reaper’s helmsman opened his mouth to call out a warning and was cut off as his arrow ripped through his throat.
All hell broke loose.
The force of Hawkeye’s shot knocked the helmsman across the helm and forced the tiller to one side, turning the Reaper hard to starboard. This wreaked havoc on the Reaper’s deck, knocking many of the sailors and soldiers from their feet. It also pointed the larger ship right at the massive stone pillar and gave its broadside to the Eagle. Before anyone onboard the Reaper could react, the Ebony Eagle rammed the trireme and punctured a large hole below the waterline. With a loud cheer, the sailors of the Eagle charged onto the Reaper.
Hawkeye began firing at will, sailors or soldiers, it didn’t matter. Everyone on the deck of trireme was fair game. Once the crew of the Eagle was onboard, he dropped his bow and swung across the gap to the railing of the enemy ship.
It was obvious that the slavers were not used to being attacked.
Instead fighting as a unit, they were fighting and dying as individuals. It was only a matter of time before the Reaper sank, everyone onboard knew that. The slavers were fighting for their lives, while the crew of the Eagle were fighting for their captain.
It wasn’t much of a battle.
Hawkeye ducked below deck and was immediately overwhelmed by the stench of blood, sweat and feces. It smelled like death.
With the aid of the enchanted goggles, Hawkeye was able to see the poor souls chained to the oars. There were gnomes, dwarves, humans and elves shackled in filth. It was obvious that they were forced to eat, sleep, urinate and defecate at their current location. Even when Hawkeye pulled the chains free that held them in place, many wouldn’t even move. They just sat there, looking off into the darkness, waiting for the order to row or for death’s sweet embrace, whichever came first.
For the few that seemed to understand what he was doing he yelled, “You are free! Get above deck, now! This ship is sinking!”
That seemed to stir a few of the slaves but not many. As strong hands grabbed Hawkeye’s leg, he spun around and readied his knife but froze at the sight before him.
“By the beard of Bromois himself, Hawkeye?”
Through the filth, the barbarian saw a face he recognized. “Midach…is that you?”
“Aye laddie, it is.”
Reaching out, Hawkeye helped his friend stand. Numerous questions flooded through his mind but when he heard the Eagle’s bell ring three times and the call to retreat, he knew his time was up. Captain Forlorn was backing out of the fatally wounded Reaper.
“Come on…we need to get topside or we’ll go down with the Reaper.”
Midach spoke in a weak voice. “Sounds good to me.”
By the time they made it to the main deck, the attack on the Reaper was over. Bodies were everywhere. Hawkeye made a mental note that most were the crew of the slavers however he did notice five or six crewmen from the Eagle including the body of Arnaud. The dark elf sailor had been gutted but died with a smile on his face. As matter of fact, the only living souls on deck were Hawkeye and seven of the freed oarsmen. The Eagle had backed off less than a ship’s distance away and the barbarian could still see fighting on its deck.
Feeling the Reaper careen to starboard, the side with the big hole in it, Hawkeye started barking out orders. “Everyone find something that floats! Now!”
The newly freed slaves responded to his tone and began to pull down lifebuoys. Hawkeye studied the rescued slaves. There were three gnomes, two dark elves, one human and Midach. All were males and very under nourished. Only Midach seemed to have his wits about himself but then, even he was subdued compared to his normal boisterous self.
Grabbing some rope nearby, he tied one end onto the lifebuoy of the closest gnome as he felt the ship shift even further to starboard. It was getting more difficult to stand up and Hawkeye knew that they only had minutes before the ship went under. Holmaan had warned him once that if the ship was going down to get away from it as soon as possible since the suction created by the sinking ship could drag him under.
Once Hawkeye had everyone tied together, he commanded them once again. “Okay...everyone in the water!”
And they all jumped in. The slaves were free, stuck in the Dark Sea, but free.
* * * * *
The slavers onboard the Reaper knew from the moment they were rammed that their only hope at survival was to seize the Ebony Eagle. Galtero had always wanted that ship anyway. Something about its smooth lines and dark wood had called to him. Not one to ignore his appetites, when Galtero had seen the Ebony Eagle in port, he knew that he wanted it and planned on taking it. When the unfortunate gnomish rum runner had come into view several hours ago, Galtero couldn’t deny his lusts and destroyed it just for fun. Unfortunately, it had served two unforeseen problems. One, the flotsam and jetsam had alerted the Eagle to his presence. But more importantly, his slaves were tired. When the Eagle had turned and fled, the Reaper was unable to overtake his target no matter how hard his bosun had driven his slaves.
Galtero knew he had made a terrible mistake. He had been in such a frenzy to overtake the fleeing ship that he hadn’t realized that it was all a ruse. One designed to make him further exhaust his slaves and put him at a disadvantage. The worst part, it had worked. It galled him to think that the dark elf bitch Chikk Forlorn had out maneuvered him.
Of course, the battle wasn’t over.
He and ten of his best men plus his pet troll had boarded the Ebony Eagle. It was smaller than the Reaper but it was a beautiful ship. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on the helm and began heading aft towards the bridge when an old man in grey robes and a young boy stepped in front of them.
“Judging by your smell, you must be Galtero.”
The slaver paused. The old man was obviously blind but neither he nor the young boy looked afraid and that worried him.
Mustering up his courage Galtero said, “Aye, that’d be me. Who are you?”
“Me? I am but a simple monk. I am known as Pau, Master Pau. And this young fellow next to me is Ronin. I am authorized to accept your surrender. If you lay down your weapons, you won’t be harmed.”
Galtero threw his head back and laughed. His men, the rough and filthy sort that they were, mirrored their captain’s attitude. “Stand aside old man or you will feel the sting of my whip.”
Master Pau took a deep breath. “Captain Forlorn said your response would be something like that but I insisted on trying.”
Galtero looked around, the deck was still empty. Only his men were in sight but the calmness of this old man was unnerving. Still, he was committed. His ship was sinking and he needed to secure the Eagle before her crew made it back onboard.
With a sneer Galtero barked, “Take him!”
The slavers leapt to the attack.
Master Pau and Ronin sprang into action.
The monks were like two sides of a coin, very similar but entirely different. Master Pau seemed to move without effort, calmly stepping aside and out of the way of any attack aimed at him. Then he would just as calmly use his staff to trip his assailant or knock him unconscious.
Ronin on the other hand was a flurry of motion. Two short sticks of ironwood, each about two feet long, seemed to appear in his hands and the monk went on the attack. The speed and accuracy in which the sticks struck his opponent was uncanny. Within the first twenty seconds of the battle, three of the ten slavers were unconscious. To make matters worse, Captain Forlorn and Tok had stepped out of the sterncastle. Without pausing to banter, they leapt into the fray.
Tok’s hands were encased in armored gloves known as cestuses which were designed to protect the gladiator’s hands from damage but also granted the ability to deliver deadly strikes from the protruding spikes on the knuckles. With these simple weapons, the minotaur waded into battle with the troll.
Captain Forlorn’s style was less brutal and flashier. Using her silver cutlass in one hand and a dagger in the other, she stabbed and parried with amazing skill.
The slavers were soon whittled down to two, Galtero and the troll. As the Eagle’s crew returned from the sinking ship, they gave the fighting foursome ample room and went about their business. The oarsmen went belowdeck and manned their oars, while Holmaan grabbed the helm, rang the ship’s bell three times and the Eagle backed out of the mortally wounded trireme. Once the ship was clear, Holmaan rang the bell twice and the Ebony Eagle coasted to a stop.
Everyone held their breath and waited to see the outcome of the two duels.
The captains were now fighting on the foredeck which was actually the roof of the forecastle; also called the fo’c’asle, it was the cabin at the very front of the ship which the crew used for quarters.
Thiers was a dual of skill versus skill, dark elf versus dark elf. Both were using two weapons which they would use in well rehearsed attack and parry routines, quickly followed by a thrust and block. At first they seemed to be evenly matched but Galtero was tiring fast. He was no longer used to physical labor, so he reverted to trickery. Lashing out with his left foot, he tried to trip the beautiful dark elf.
Even though she was expecting something sneaky from the slaver, Chikk was forced into a forward roll which took her closer to the bowsprit. It also seemed to have loosened the strings on her bodice which was immediately noticeable to the slaver since the swashbuckler was quite busty.
The next time the two captains locked up their blades, Galtero leaned in and leered. “Nice view captain.”
Chikk frowned and struggled to free her blades from the stronger slaver. Her cleavage seemed determined to escape from her bodice.
Galtero looked down and smiled. “I can’t wait to see more of you.”
“Not in this lifetime Galtero,” replied Chikk as her knee shot up and scored a direct hit on his groin. The slaver dropped like a stone. Sheathing her weapons, she reached down and pulled the laces of her bodice tight once again. With a slight smile she said, “That trick works every time.”
Turning her attention to the main deck, the smile fled her face.
Tok’s battle with the troll was nothing like the duel of the two captains.
This one was brutal. It was strength versus strength. The troll didn’t use any weapons other than its rock-hard fists which seemed deadly enough. Tok gouged the troll with his horns, pummeled its body with his ironclad fists and even kicked it with his hooves but nothing seemed to slow it down for long.
Tok was at a loss. Nothing he did seemed to hurt the monster. Every trick he’d learned during the five long years he spent in the gladiatorial arena did nothing more than enrage this beast. Even the blades of his fellow shipmates did nothing more than bounce off its stoney hide. As soon as the troll latched onto his neck with both hands, he knew it was only a matter of time now. The minotaur struggled to break free but the stone-like grip was too strong. Even as he was starting to black out due to lack of oxygen, Tok struggled. He was only seconds from death but he was a son of Minos and if he was going to die, he was going to die fighting.
Suddenly, there was a loud scream and the crushing on his windpipe stopped. The troll’s grip didn’t loosen but it didn’t tighten either.
* * * * *
Hawkeye watched as his friend and the six freed slaves jumped into the cold waters of the Dark Sea. One part of his mind was hoping that there weren’t any scavenger fish in the area; the other part was studying the lay of the battlefield around him. The Reaper was going down fast. She was already listing heavily to starboard and the deck was tilting more and more.
Looking around, two things stood out to him. First, the battle was still going on onboard the main deck of the Ebony Eagle between Tok and a troll. He had fought trolls before and knew that the first mate was in trouble. However, if he could reach the main deck in time, he had a little surprise for the beast. Secondly, the Reaper’s main mast was edging closer and closer to the water. He guessed that it was still about thirty feet off the water, however it was pointing towards his target, the Ebony Eagle.
Without waiting to consider his actions, Hawkeye began running up the side of the mast. He found himself thinking how crazy this plan was but this was his best bet on reaching the Eagle in time. If it worked, he would be onboard the Eagle in a manner of seconds. If not, he was going swimming. It seemed like a win – win scenario to him, other than the fact that if he didn’t make it in time the first mate was bound to die.
Reaching the uppermost spar on the Reaper’s main-mast, Hawkeye grabbed a dangling rope and pulled it up. Taking one glance at his target, the main deck of the Ebony Eagle, he took a deep breath and jumped off. Even though he was only thirty or so feet off the water in the darkness with only his enchanted goggles to help him see it seemed like much more. When the line reached its limit and he began swinging toward the Eagle, for a few brief seconds Hawkeye felt the exhilaration of this insane stunt and couldn’t help but scream.
A split second later he was at the apex of the swing and Hawkeye let go of the rope. One part of his mind promised that if he lived through this crazy stunt, he would never try something like this again.
Hodios the god of luck must’ve been smiling on him because he timed his jump just right and landed on the main deck with a loud thump. Only the adrenaline rush kept him from feeling the bruises he was sure to have but Tok was in trouble.
The troll had both hands wrapped around the minotaur’s neck and was choking the life out of him. The crew of the Eagle were whacking on the backside of the troll but their blades just bounded off its stone-like hide. Without even waiting to stand up, Hawkeye reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a golden-yellow scarf given to him by Tatianna on the night of his challenge, the Tsanahwit. In his memory, he heard his wife’s voic
e as clear as if she was standing next to him.
“It has been blessed by Aurora and enchanted with the morning sun. When the need is great and the darkness surrounds you, close your eyes and throw it in the air. Aurora will do the rest.”
The Dark Sea had never felt the rays of the sun nor bathed in the glow of sunlight until that very moment. The expanding flash of light was so bright that several tribes of goblins which lived on the shores of the Dark Sea, nearly a hundred miles away, saw it as a sign of the end of the world and committed suicide. Even cities as far away as Otrar and Avaris made note of the event. They didn’t know exactly what happened but it was marked down in their annuals as an omen of things to come.
Closer at hand, the blinding flash of light did exactly what Tatianna’s spell had done on the moors of the Highlands those many weeks ago; it turned the troll to stone.
Struggling to stand, Hawkeye groaned. Now that the excitement of battle was wearing off, he was starting to feel the bumps and bruises from his crazy stunt. He was sore. He looked around and everyone on deck was still reeling from the blinding flash of light. Almost everyone.
Master Pau had been unaffected, of course, and moved to the side of the still pinned first mate.
“Relax Tok. I’ll have you out of there in a moment.”
Putting actions to words, the monk struck the stone arms of the troll three times; each in a slightly different location. On the third strike, the arms and hands of the stone troll crumbled.
Once Tok was free, he took in a deep gulp of air. Sitting up, he rubbed his neck and fixed his gaze on the barbarian. “Many…many thanks, I thought my next breath would be in the halls of Minos. And as much as I am looking forward to serving my god, I am not in a rush for it either. How can I ever repay you?”
Tales of the Wolf: Book 02 - Enter the Wolf Page 16