by Simon Archer
“Return fire!” I bellowed, and the front-mounted guns of The Hullbreaker spoke.
The rearmost of the Imperial ships were coming up fast, and I yelled again, “Brace for impact!”
That gave my crew a few minutes warning before the heavy, magically reinforced ramming prow of my ship crashed into the aft of a slightly smaller vessel as she tried to turn.
Once again, I almost lost my footing but for the ship’s wheel in my hands. The victim swung wide, wood and glass shattering and tearing under the attack. Immediately, my ship lost speed, but with the witchwind still howling in her sails, she plowed through and past the broken Imperial ship and bore down on the barely visible lead ship.
“Fire at will!” I roared out over the deck.
As if they had been awaiting that very command, both broadsides opened up on the ships we sailed between, just as they fired on us. Cannonballs and chain shot pelted The Hullbreaker. While her magically reinforced structure repelled much of the damage, we did end up with a few holes and shattered timbers, as well as damage to the rigging and sails. Still, the witch’s work held up remarkably.
In return, though, we blasted gaping holes in the sides of the Imperial ships, and after the broadside faded, three more rhythmic shots sounded from Bord’s experimental cannon. I didn’t see what damage it did, but that one just kept firing as we shot past.
The rest of my ships engaged the flotilla, cannonfire echoing from the heavy clouds of gunsmoke as flames illuminated the growing darkness. As for The Hullbreaker , we pushed on and gained on the lead ship, a galleon man-o-war. She’d broadside us before we could board, but by my best estimation, we could take it.
“Prepare to board!” I commanded. “Grapples ready!”
Then we were alongside, and the whole side of the enemy ship boomed with cannonfire.
18
F lames and thunder seemed to engulf my entire world and set my ears to ringing. The Hullbreaker rocked under the impact, shards of wood exploding from where cannonballs impacted her magically reinforced hull. The enemy fared worse. Much of her starboard hull shattered under our return fire, and she began a ponderous turn away even as I spun the wheel to slam my ship against the Imperial warship.
My boarding crew stood ready. As the ships crashed together, grappling hooks arced out over the water and strong, orcish backs heaved-ho, pulling the enemy ship tight.
Jimmy Mocker bounded up to the helm as I readied my axe. He nodded and grinned at me, probably just as deaf as I was for the moment. I left the wheel in his capable hands and headed for the rail as my crew swarmed onto the Imperial ship. Mary Night fell in at my side, long knives in her hands and a fierce look on her lovely face.
As we leaped the gap to the other ship, I happened to glance down. Below, the water boiled with activity, and I caught a glimpse of the half-human, half-fish merfolk locked in mortal combat with sharks and other creatures of the sea. Somewhere nearby, Tiny’s roar penetrated the fog in my hearing caused by the cannon fire.
Then my feet touched down on rain-slick wood, and I joined the frantic melee with a roar and a wide swipe of my axe. The sailors aboard our target had been ready and waiting. Gunshots rang out from both sides as we clashed in a whirling fracas of bodies and flashing blades.
Mary quickly vanished amongst the enemy combatants, ducking low and dancing between the defenders to leave blood and paralyzed men in her wake. I just made a slow advance while I spun my greataxe in a figure-eight that reaped the limbs and lives of any sailors who dared to get too close.
The deck of the ship heaved and threw many men, both Imperial and buccaneer, from their feet. I almost went down, too, but caught myself and staggered forward, axe swinging.
One of the Imperial officers, saber in hand, dodged aside and lunged at me, but his moves were awkward. I knocked his blade aside with the haft of my axe, drove the butt end into his stomach, and struck his head from his shoulders as he doubled over.
I kicked another man in the stomach, grabbed him by the arm, and threw him bodily into the massed resistance as more of my orc and human crew leaped from The Hullbreaker to the deck of the Imperial ship.
More shots rang out as my hearing began to clear. Two more sailors charged me across the rolling deck, and I spun aside to avoid them. A sweep of my axe took one man’s legs from under him, but then I had to back up as his comrade came in flailing with a cutlass.
Three more sailors joined in as one shouted, “Bardak is here! Kill him!”
It seemed that word of me had spread through the Admiralty. Likely there was even something of a bounty on my head.
Good.
I grinned fiercely and roared right in the face of the attacking sailors. A few paused, their eyes wide with sudden fear. It gave me the opening I needed. A broad swing of my axe felled two of them, a shoulder check leveling a third before I cleaved a fourth from shoulder to navel. Blood and gore splashed over me and the deck. A battle rage rose in my soul, and my blood sang with it as I strode across the deck.
Lightning flashed, and thunder boomed overhead as the storm’s fury grew. The bound ships rolled and listed, but somehow, I kept my feet and fought my way towards the door to the galleon’s lower decks. Mary joined me on one flank, her knives a flashing blur of death as her evil eye swept over the opposing force.
Here and there, my men pressed the attack, holding steady against the larger Imperial force through determination, skill, and raw ferocity.
“Where is he?” I yelled to Mary.
“No idea!” she called back. “Maybe below?”
“I’ve not seen the bloody captain, either,” I snarled as I blocked a cutlass swing and smashed the head of my axe into a screaming human face.
Mary slipped closer to me and cast her gaze about. “At the helm,” she told me. “Another fellow in officer dress.”
I risked a look of my own, then shook my head. “Watch officer. Killing him might break the crew’s resolve a bit, but ye be likely right that the captain’s below.”
“Get below, then,” she cackled. “I’ll see to yon officer whilst ye hunt our quarry.”
“Hah!” I roared and began another death march towards the doors, axe sweeping in wide arcs to drive the enemy back.
My witch, though, danced through the storm like a spinning demon of death, untouchable and primal as she moved with a tireless, fearsome grace towards the stairs up to the galleon’s helm. A feral, bloody grin graced my face as I kept cutting my deadly path ahead.
I found myself at the large, double doors faster than I had expected. The opposition melted away beneath my onslaught, perhaps intending to take me from behind, only to meet with members of my crew as they converged on me.
A warm glow of satisfaction filled me. My crew, my clan, had my back, and we all were stronger for it.
As the space around me cleared under the axes and cutlasses of my buccaneers, I took a step back, lowered my shoulder, and charged the doors. There was a moment of resistance, then the wood tore and splintered under my weight, and I burst into the forecastle of the ship.
The sudden violence of my entrance gave me the instant I needed to close the gap between the waiting musketeers and bowl them over like ninepins. I split a skull or two, drew one of my own flintlocks, and shot the rearmost man as he tried to draw a bead on me.
Ahead, the door to the captain’s cabin waited, but so did the stairs leading down to the gun decks and the hold. I looked to my crew.
“Head below, me hearties! Kill any bastard that raises gun or blade against ye!”
A great cry rose from the throats of my pirates, and they surged past and charged down the stairs as I ran at the captain’s door. A swing of my greataxe split the heavy door in twain, and I kicked it from its hinges to burst into a large, well-appointed cabin, face to face with a burly, bearded man wearing the marque of a commodore.
He was waiting for me. In one hand, he held an odd combination of axe and flintlock, a weapon smaller than my greataxe but still l
arge for a human, and in the other, he wielded a cutlass.
“Bardak Skullsplitter,” the man spat. “I was told to expect you.”
I narrowed my eyes, then grinned, “Captain Potts. I thought ye’d retired to Erdrath.”
“Commodore, now,” he growled. “Seems you created an opening for my promotion.”
“Should I be congratulating ye?” I asked as I slide a bit to my right, ensuring that my back wasn’t to the hallway beyond.
Potts followed my motion with his eyes and shifted his stance slightly. He had been a decent man when I’d known him, but that was when I served under the Ironhand, and he was only a captain.
“Surely ye don’t cotton to what the Admiral is doing with the free towns an’ all,” I ventured. If I could draw out this conversation, it would give my men and Mary time to secure the rest of the ship, and hells, if he were up for turning, I could always use another good captain in my fleet.
“It isn’t my place to question,” he snapped, but I could see the hesitation in his eyes.
“Potts, ye knew me when I served under Sturmgar. I’m an orc o’ my word, and I swear to ye that if ye tell yer men to stand down, I’ll take Brill an’ leave ye an’ yer crew in peace,” I offered.
Unlike Arde, I respected Potts. He was a decent enough man and honorable from all the stories I’d heard of him from my old mentor.
He shook his head. “I cannot do that, Bardak. You should respect that. I gave my word to complete this mission or die in the attempt, and my word once given…”
“It is the bond of a warrior,” I finished, my respect for the man growing all the more. “Aye. Then let’s finish it.”
Potts nodded and shifted to a more ready stance as his blue eyes darkened. I heaved a regretful sigh and prepared myself.
Above, the storm let loose a peal of thunder that rattled the timbers, and the Commodore and I both acted. I threw myself to the side as he raised the axe-gun and fired. The shot grazed my shoulder, opening up a shallow, painful wound in my green skin.
He dodged back as I swung my axe, then slapped it off-line with his cutlass and forced me to avoid an overhand swing of his own axe. The extra weight of the built-in flintlock didn’t seem to cause him any problems, and we both backed off after that first exchange. There wasn’t much room to circle, but we broke into a series of feints, strikes, and counterstrikes that involved a fair bit of pushing and kicking of loose furniture that got in the way.
Potts was a skilled fighter and kept his head, unlike Arde in our final battle, where the madman had basically just flailed away, trusting the magic of the Huntsman’s Spear to let him match me. It had, in the end, cost his life. My current opponent was fully intent on not making that same mistake.
We clashed again, a bit more carefully this time, and backed off, probing each other’s defenses. Steel rang on steel or thudded on wood as we continued to exchange blows.
Out in the hall, the battle raged. The storm built, and the ship, tethered to my own, rose and fell and yawed and rolled. Potts and I fought in near silence but for grunts of effort and labored breaths. We had each other’s measure, and we were both skilled enough to keep up with each other.
The Commodore wasn’t Bloody Bill, though. I’d learned a great deal from that fight, including just how much my strength made a difference. Potts fought me like he would fight a large human man, but I was an orc, and I was made to fight.
With a roar, I let everything out, slamming my axe against the human’s guard in massive blow after blow. He fell back as I battered his weapons down with my superior orcish strength, pushing him back towards the window.
When I paused my onslaught for just a moment, Potts counterattacked with a thrust of his cutlass and forced me back to avoid taking a stab to the belly. I turned the dodge into a spin as I brought my axe around, just as he swung his own axe at my head. Seeing the arc of his blade, I adjusted my own swing, the blade of my greataxe met the Commodore’s wrist and hewed his hand free from his body. Limb and axe flew off to thud heavily on the wooden floor of the cabin.
The bearded man gasped in pain and gritted his teeth as he pressed the bleeding stump to his side, but he kept up the attack, slashing wildly with the cutlass. Despite his courage, I had the advantage now, so I roared and swatted the weapon aside, then stepped forward and planted a kick in the middle of the Commodore’s chest. The mighty impact lifted him clean off his feet and hurled him backward. As his bulky frame hit the great window overlooking the water, it shattered into a million glittering pieces. His scream trailed off into nothing as he flew out, and then he was gone, swallowed by the merciless sea.
I strode over and snatched up the gun-axe. It would make a fine trophy for my collection. As I stuffed it into my belt, I hurried back out and down into the bowels of the ship.
My crew was busy securing the cannon deck, and as I passed through, I encountered Mary Night returning from further below. She was half-dragging an old man with her. He was balding, with a thin halo of white hair around his head and a long beard, and dressed in sailor’s garb. Though barefoot, he otherwise looked unhurt and healthy.
I recognized him from the description that Tabitha had given us. “Eustace Brill, aye?”
He raised his gaze and met mine. One of his eyes was bright and clear, while the other was cloudy with cataracts and madly dilated. “Aye, and ye be an orc. The witch here says ye mean to rescue me in the name o’ the black cat.”
“Aye, she speaks true. Ye be willin’ to come along?”
He chortled and nodded vigorously. “I want nothing to do with these dark ships. Take me into the storm, and let me feel the spray on my face.”
Mary caught my look and rolled her eyes. The old fellow seemed to be quite barmy, but if he could lead us to The Golden Bull , he was valuable. I yelled for the crew to pull back to The Hullbreaker , and they formed up an escort for the three of us as we headed back onto the rain and blood-slicked main deck of the Imperial ship.
She was listing badly, and the lines that held her bound to my ship were taut to the point of near breaking. We had to cut loose, or this wallowing hulk would drag us down with it. Apparently, the waves and wind had finished what my broadside had started, and the galleon was sinking.
With that in mind, we launched ourselves across the deck, cleared the gap, and sliced away the tethers as Jimmy Mocker spun the wheel and turned us away from the foundering ship.
A quick look showed me that all my own ships were accounted for, while the Imperials were scattered, and at least one was missing. We’d won that fight, but we still had a storm to ride out.
Tiny surged up next to us, between The Hullbreaker and the sinking galleon. An idea suddenly struck me as Ligeia threw me a wave from the Dragon Turtle’s broad back.
“Can Tiny tow yon ship?” I yelled out through the storm to my siren.
She cocked her head for a moment, then clear as day, replied, “He can, Captain!”
I really wish I’d thought to do this before. “Have him do that an’ follow us. I mean to put us to shore for repairs, an’ there be an island close!”
She nodded, and moments later, the Dragon Turtle descended and dropped back. I wanted to watch how he did it, but there was something else I had to attend to.
“Mocker!” I bellowed. “Can ye guide us through?”
“Aye, Cap’n,” he yelled back. “Ye see to our guest and relieve me on yer watch!”
I nodded to him and then to Mary, and we shuffled the old man off to my cabin below.
19
T he storm blew itself out in the wee hours of the morning, leaving us sailing before a moderate wind that followed behind as the skies cleared and grew bright. I relieved Mocker at the helm after I’d caught a short rest, the old man Eustace Brill snored away in a hammock we’d rigged for him in Mary’s lab, while she napped in my bed.
A bit behind the rest of the fleet, I spied the badly damaged Imperial Galleon trundling along, awkwardly perched upon Tiny’s back. Tha
t brought a grin to my face.
I changed our course to head towards a small island I knew that had a protected cove. It would serve as a place for us to hole up long enough to plot our next moves, then, when we left, to maroon the three Imperials in my brig. I meant to give them a fair chance of survival since I’d given my word on it.
In the daylight, I scanned the other ships of my little fleet. None of them were unscathed, not even The Black Cat , but none seemed to be overly damaged, either. Tiny swam a lazy escort beside The Hullbreaker , Ligeia reclined upon his shell. Under normal winds, he could outswim our ships with little effort, so this gave the great beast a chance to rest as well.
I let my mind drift back to the fight aboard the Imperial galleon. Could I have taken Potts alive? Maybe. I doubted the man would have let me, though. He was a proud creature and strong too. I’d remember our fight with fondness, even as short as it had been.
That brought to mind another battle I’d barely won: my duel with Bloody Bill Markland in the caves below the ancient Milnian ruins. We’d both lived through that scrap, but he’d been carried off by his witch and crew, while I’d been patched up and hauled back to my ship by Mary, Ligeia, and Tiny.
I wondered what Bill was up to. Giving the elves fits, no doubt, unless he’d secretly returned to the archipelago. Somehow, I doubted he had. Maybe he’d even died from the wounds I’d given him. Maybe one day, I’d find out.
From those thoughts, my mind wandered back to Adra’s lesson, then what Mary had shown me. I opened up a bit, feeling the wind rushing past and the waves below. It was a lot like how I could plot a course without a map, and tell direction and distance to any place I’d been, just by a sense in my mind’s eye. With my awakening, I could now get a sense of the spirits surrounding me, the elementals of air and water in particular.
Just by watching them and shifting course here and there, I could optimize our speed and smooth out our travel. The challenge, though, was to just watch and not try to influence the motion of the elements. I wanted to test myself, but there was a part of me that insisted I do no more than observe and learn.