Frostgrave: Ghost Archipelago: Tales of the Lost Isles

by JOSEPH A. MCCULLOUGH

* * *

  Taking the wind from their sails? That’s a great trick!’ Tlanti was clearly happy, but Captain Wolfram shrugged it off. She was almost bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, making things rattle slightly in all the purses and pockets.

  ‘It’s a pretty standard thing, and has its uses.’ He leaned to call down to some of the men on the main deck. ‘Wind the ballistae, and prepare firepots!’ Then he turned to his bosun, and said, ‘Send archers into the rigging, with bodkin and broadhead.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to boarding them,’ Tlanti said. ‘Your men can bring us close enough alongside?’

  ‘If you can jump across five or six feet you won’t even have to wait for the gangways to be put across.’

  Tlanti laughed. ‘I don’t have to.’ She stroked the polished claw that hung from a thong around her neck, and her eyelids drooped for a moment. Two saurian creatures stepped out from the hatchway behind her. Stalkers. The saurians were larger than a man, with long, powerful tails, and viciously curved six-inch talons on their hind legs. Their forelegs were shorter, but carried sharp claws too, and their long, narrow skulls were filled with sharp fangs. Lithe, agile, and as fast as the wind, their feathers had been removed so that their toughened skins could be painted with a fearsome pattern in her colours – in this case, red, black and purple.

  The sailors shuffled aside nervously, except for Captain Wolfram and the man on the wheel, who paled, but stayed at his post.

  Tlanti didn’t mind them being afraid of her pets. It kept them focused, but also meant they were confident in a fight against anyone else. Who wouldn’t be, with such beasts on their side?

  * * *

  ‘They’re coming!’ the Sergeant-at-arms shouted. He and his men all hefted their swords and axes, looking uncertain as to what use they would be right now. The Aerys was coming in directly now, her prow aimed amidships. Tomms eyed the white water under her bowsprit, looking to see if there was a ram there. It looked very much as if there was.

  ‘They’re going to ram us,’ he warned.

  ‘Three-quarter starboard!’ Pavius was already shouting. The deck tilted, the sail and ropes creaked loudly, and there was a strange thunking sound that Tomms couldn’t place – until one of his men-at-arms tumbled with a scream, a bodkin-headed arrow nailing his thigh to the deck.

  More arrows were falling, burying their tips first in the planking, and then, as the ship tilted, in some of the soldiers and sailors. One of Pavius’s archers fell from the crow’s nest, splashing into the churning waters between the ships. Tomms and Gurbin dropped, pressing themselves against the wooden rail that encircled the deck, while the men-at-arms ducked into what cover they could find. Mail was no protection against the needle-tipped shafts dropping from on high.

  Something shattered somewhere, and burning oil sprayed across the sterncastle. Sailors dashed around, trying to both stay out of the way of falling arrows, and find buckets of water to throw on the fire. A second crack came from above, and fire began to lick at the mainsail. The helmsman screamed, trying to brush off splashes of burning oil that had dripped onto his shoulder. As he thrashed against the wheel, the ship banked more, turning further to starboard.

  ‘Ware the wheel!’ Gurbin yelled to Tomms.

  ‘We’re getting further out of their way,’ Tomms shouted back. ‘Sounds good to me!’

  Pavius shoved past them. ‘Too far! There’s a reef before we make shore.’ The Captain threw the helmsman to the deck, where he rolled around in an attempt to put out the flames. Pavius then grabbed the wheel, hauling it back to port as the shoreline and beach grew steadily larger beyond him.

  * * *

  ‘Right where we want them,’ Captain Wolfram said to Tlanti. ‘Between us and the reef.’

  ‘Try to take the ship intact. What it’s carrying is worth a lot.’

  ‘Those are the magic words. Boarding party ready!’ At the Captain’s word, small knots of pirates, armed to the teeth with swords, axes and daggers, began to gather at the rail, while the archers in the Aerys’s rigging loosed another volley.

  * * *

  There was a rumble of thuds and a few more screams, and then the rain of arrows ceased. Moments later, a shadow fell across Gurbin, as the Aerys came alongside, her ram missing the hull by a few feet. Gurbin glanced at the rails on the other ship, which was almost close enough to touch. Pirates were slamming boards down, braced against deck and rail, forming short ramps.

  ‘They’re going to hit! Brace for collision!’ Everyone momentarily froze, grabbing on to the nearest post or piece of the ship’s structure, ready to steady themselves.

  That was when the first pirate boots thudded onto the deck. Half a dozen of them had hurled themselves from the makeshift ramps against their ship’s rail, crossing the last couple of feet between the ships in the blink of an eye.

  There was a solid thud beside Gurbin, and he turned, expecting to see another pirate. A stalker’s maw hissed right into his face, carrying a stench of putrid meat. It straightened back up with a flick of its tail as a second stalker landed on the back of Tomms’s bosun, nailing him to the deck with its claws. The bosun’s scream barely started before it was cut off.

  Gurbin held up a hand, instinctively trying to ward off the stalker, even though he knew the beast would probably just take the hand first, as an offering, but it flicked itself around before he’d finished the thought, and darted at a sailor who was using a boathook as a spear against one of the pirates.

  A terrible judder ran the length of the ship with a tremendous grinding sound as the two hulls scraped along each other. At least with the arrows no longer a threat he could stand up and fight. Gurbin drew two long knives from the sheaths on his forearms, and waded into the fray, looking for Tomms, who had almost vanished in the melee of clashing bodies.

  A sailor with a face covered in other people’s blood lurched in front of him with an axe raised. Gurbin ducked under it, cutting the sinews of his arm with one knife, and stabbing him in the armpit with another. He didn’t even know which crew the man had belonged to. He saw Tomms standing between two mailed soldiers as they held off three pirates, and made his way towards them. Tomms met his eye, and Gurbin found himself stabbing one pirate in the kidney and cutting his throat before the man even knew he was there.

  The other two pirates backed off, but one of the stalkers darted in between them. It took a sword-thrust in the thigh, but merely screeched and took the arm off the soldier who had wounded it. He fell, screaming, as Tomms raised his hands in a warding gesture. The stalker stepped backwards, shaking its head as if to clear something from its nose or eyes. The remaining soldier kept the two pirates busy, while Gurbin grabbed Tomms’s arm and pulled him aside.

  ‘We need to get off the ship,’ he told Tomms.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re here to think of these things,’ Tomms grumbled. ‘We need a few minutes to get a boat lowered. That means we need to win this fight.’

  * * *

  ‘Half a point to starboard,’ Wolfram called out to his helmsman. ‘Push her onto the reef!’

  ‘What about us?’ Tlanti asked. Running the ship aground wasn’t part of her plan.

  ‘The Aerys is built to allow estuary and river operations. Shallower draught, so their keel will catch on the reef before ours ever would.’ As he spoke, the more musclebound of his sailors were hurling grappling hooks at Tomms’s ship, and hauling on the ropes to hold the two ships together.

  ‘Time to take charge,’ Tlanti said, and marched down to the main deck. There was a terrible screeching and groaning; a sound of creaking muscle from some leviathan awakening in the depths of hell. Tomms’s ship heeled to one side, spilling men painfully to the deck. ‘We’ve struck land,’ she heard someone call out on the other ship.

  Incanting with the polished claw amulet in hand, she stepped through a gap in the rail just as the enemy ship rolled back, its deck sliding far enough that she could step down onto its deck. Two of the pirates, armed with
sword and shield, fell into step behind her, and the stalkers scrambled to meet her. One was limping, and she could feel her blood boil. The desire for revenge was strong, but she knew it wasn’t worth thinking about, for the simple reason that the stalkers didn’t leave woundings unpunished. Whoever or whatever didn’t kill them had always made the biggest and last mistake of their lives.

  ‘Find Gurbin,’ she said, ‘and I want him alive. Tomms you can kill.’

  ‘Aye,’ the pirates responded, and the stalkers nodded their heads as if also agreeing.

  * * *

  Gurbin dispatched another pirate with a grimace, and then saw the new arrivals through a gap in the melee: the stalkers having regrouped around a short and curvy, raven-haired figure in layers of garb that he knew would deflect cuts from a knife, as well as keeping her belongings and impedimenta concealed from other spellcasters.

  He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking from Tlanti to Tomms. Tomms caught his glance and frowned, his head turning in Tlanti’s direction. She saw him at the same moment, snarling, then her eyes fell upon Gurbin, and she jabbed a finger towards him. Immediately, the pirates with her, and one stalker, started towards him, barging people out of the way. Gurbin stepped back involuntarily, and felt his hip bump against the ship’s rail.

  ‘Run,’ Tomms shouted. ‘Get off the ship now!’

  Off the ship? Gurbin thought. His muscles took over, responding immediately. He vaulted over the rail, gathering his thoughts, bringing in his self, and feeling the power start to buzz in his veins, just enough to know he was making the right effort. His soles hit the water, but no further, and he bent his knees and rolled on the surface of the water, which squished beneath him like a good mattress. ‘Meet me at the treeline,’ Tomms shouted down to him. Gurbin glanced up, grimaced, and nodded once.

  Then he bolted, knowing he only had a few seconds. This type of skill was the most difficult, and a layer under his skin felt as if he was burning already. He had perhaps a few more seconds of running across the surface of the sea before he would have to let go of the density of his body, and he would plunge into the water and have to swim.

  The damp sand seemed so very far away.

  Gurbin gulped in air and pushed his muscles harder – more difficult than ever, now that he heard the splashes of several bodies crashing into the water. Curses and the sounds of thrashing and coughing erupted around him, as pirates dropped from the rail into water that was considerably more than ankle-deep to them.

  * * *

  The stalkers darted for the stern, following their fleeing prey, and Tlanti could feel their desires, and the tensing of their legs, ready to spring and run. She hissed a quick incantation, turning her hand, and they slid to a halt, claws gouging the deck. She knew the stalkers were strong enough swimmers, but if they had tried to run across the water and found themselves immersed, it would have thrown their focus.

  Tomms was still aboard, and she pointed the pirates and stalkers to him. ‘Kill that bastard!’ They hurried to obey, but Tomms’s soldiers closed ranks around him, their longswords, and even a couple of pole-axes, forcing them to keep their distance. As the fight raged, Tlanti could see Tomms and another soldier slashing at ropes holding a boat over the water.

  She sent one of the stalkers round to flank the soldiers, but it was too late, the boat fell.

  * * *

  The ship’s longboat hit the water with a flat smack on the opposite side from where the Aerys was butted up against her. Tomms and his remaining four soldiers put away the knives with which they had cut the ropes holding the boat aboard, and scrambled over the side. Despite their mail and helmets, the soldiers climbed down with as much agility as did Tomms.

  The Aerys was still pushing against the ship, which in turn was forcing a swell of water out, threatening to push the longboat aside before they could clamber in. A wave splashed Tomms’s boots, and he braced his feet against the side of the hull, to kick himself far enough out to land painfully in the rocking longboat.

  Thankfully, he saw, all four soldiers were safely aboard, and – more importantly – still fully armed, if somewhat unsteady on their feet. He bent down and lifted the ends of two oars, shoving one into the hands of the nearest soldier. ‘Let’s get going. Quickly! Gurbin will be ashore by now.’

  The soldier settled himself, and he and Tomms used the oars to push the boat away from the ship, while the other soldiers picked up the remaining oars and used them to point the boat at the beach.

  * * *

  Tlanti swore profusely, and gestured her forces back to the Aerys. The stalkers ran back, leaping over the rails and back onto the pirate vessel. Most of the pirates remained, since they had a prize of their own now.

  ‘Captain Wolfram!’ Tlanti called. ‘A longboat heading for shore; I want it sunk.’

  The Captain shook his head. ‘It’ll take too long for us to detach from their ship.’ He looked up at his archers in the masts. ‘A longboat is making for shore! A silver piece for whoever kills anyone aboard it!’ He turned to his bosun. ‘Prepare a longboat, and volunteers for a shore party.’ He stepped below decks for a moment, and was strapping on a belt with two long, curved swords when he returned. ‘You don’t mind if I stretch my legs ashore, do you?’

  Tlanti grinned. ‘Not at all. An extra sword is always a good thing, and two are awesome.’ She took the spyglass again and surveyed the beach.

  * * *

  Gurbin swung himself around the trunk of a tree, out of sight of anyone on either ship, and dropped to his knees. He gasped for breath, every inch of his skin burning as painfully as his lungs. His veins felt as if they were on fire, his limbs trembled, and he knew he’d been lucky to make it to shore.

  When he had recovered a bit, he looked around, to see a boat making for the beach. He knew it was Tomms, as his soldiers’ armour glinted in the sun. Sighing, he pushed off from the tree, and began to make his way towards the part of the beach where Tomms would land.

  * * *

  Tomms welcomed Gurbin’s arrival with a wide grin. ‘There you are! Safe and sound?’

  ‘More or less.’

  ‘Good,’ Tomms said with a nod. ‘Then there’s no time to lose. The days are long in these waters, but we have far to travel.’ With that, he tossed Gurbin an arming sword, and hefted a hand-and-a-half bastard sword himself. The soldiers drew their weapons also, and Tomms turned and led them into the undergrowth that was already thickening around them as they left the beach.

  * * *

  On the far side of a low headland, another longboat juddered to a halt, her simple plank seats barely tilting from the horizontal. Captain Wolfram was first out, and everyone took a hand in dragging the boat up the beach so that it wouldn’t float away at high tide. ‘And what’s your plan, lass?’

  Tlanti looked expectantly into the rolling breakers. ‘The same one I contracted you for: I’ll take a warband and separate Gurbin from Tomms. Permanently.’

  ‘Snatch and dispatch? Before they find what they’re looking for?’

  ‘That would make things easier.’ She watched as the pair of stalkers emerged from the water’s edge. Unlike dogs, they didn’t bother to shake themselves dry, but were already looking around alertly. Tlanti nodded to two of the pirates. ‘Go and find their boat, and either steal it or smash it.’ They ran off immediately, in the direction of where Tomms must have landed his boat.

  The rest of them – Tlanti, Wolfram, a grizzled, shaven-headed pirate called Klegg, and a muscular pirate called Ironhand, walked towards the edge of the trees inland. There was a faint scent of dust in the air amidst the sea spray, but also an aftertaste of rot and mildew. They paused after passing the first couple of trees, and Captain Wolfram raised an eyebrow. ‘What are we looking for, by the way?’

  ‘Well...’ Tlanti hesitated, then admitted, ‘I’m not quite sure.’

  ‘That doesn’t make finding it any easier. And don’t give me any of that “we’ll know it when we see it” bilge, either.’
>
  ‘I wasn’t going to, because we won’t. We’ll know it after they see it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Gurbin, at least, knows what he’s looking for. That’s why we can’t just rely on finding it first. Since Gurbin is still with Tomms and not us, we need them to find it first.’

  ‘So we don’t even know if they’re looking for a lead to the Crystal Pool?’

  ‘Of course we know that!’ Tlanti snapped tightly. ‘Everybody on these seas is looking for that. But I don’t know what form this clue takes. A map? A witness? A relic? A spell? Only Tomms and Gurbin know.’

  Wolfram nodded. ‘Aye, he keeps his cards close, that Tomms. Always has. Fair enough, though, it has kept him alive longer than...’

  ‘He deserves?’

  ‘I was going to say longer than most people could expect in this line of work, but you’re not wrong either, that much is true.’

  * * *

  ‘This looks promising,’ Tomms said, as the sun, hidden above the murky green tree canopy, was approaching its zenith. He used his bastard sword to chop down some of the undergrowth ahead of him, then sheathed it and pulled the torn vines and branches aside. Two of the soldiers ripped the vegetation away further, revealing a wall of ancient Cyclopean stones; a sand-coloured edge to the world, almost as tall as the mainmast of a ship.

  ‘Promising?’ Gurbin echoed. ‘Frustrating, you mean.’ He looked along the wall in both directions. ‘Whoever built this doesn’t seem to have put any gates in it.’

  ‘Then we climb, I suppose,’ Tomms said. He gave the order to his soldiers, who spread out a few yards apart, divesting themselves of helmets, mail and weapons, which they placed carefully on the ground. Then two began ascending the closest trees to the wall which they could find. A third soldier approached the wall itself, and reached out to seek hand and footholds with which to haul herself up. After a moment, one of the tree-climbers shouted down, ‘There’s no branch close enough to jump over!’

  ‘Same here,’ the other one shouted.

  The soldier on the wall shuffled herself sideways, back and forth, before descending. ‘There are no handholds within reach of the top,’ she said.