Five Kingdoms: Books 01, 02 & 03

by Toby Neighbors

  “That’s ludicrous.”

  “Maybe, but that’s why he invited us to dinner. He wanted to know our plans.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  “Only what he needed to know,” Mansel said. “That we’re going to Osla to escort Prince Wilam home.”

  Quinn had gotten some fruit out of their small chest of food and was absentmindedly peeling it. He dropped the discarded peel at his feet, and when he finished, he looked down at his hands in surprise.

  “They took our weapons, too,” Mansel said. “I had no choice but to give them to him. I got the impression that we would be allowed to help them fight the pirates.”

  “Allowed? Allowed?” Quinn said angrily. “They’ll be bloody begging us to help them if we’re boarded by pirates.”

  “Have you ever fought pirates?” Mansel asked.

  “No, but I’ve trained on a ship before. It’s nearly impossible to keep your balance. You simply can’t move without tripping over a coiled rope or crashing into someone. It’ll be chaos, and there’s no telling who’ll come out on top. I’ve heard of pirates that take over a ship and kill the entire crew.”

  “The captain said they may just want the cargo.”

  “Well, you can bet that he’s not going to give it up without a fight. I can’t believe this,” he said, stuffing the fruit into his mouth.

  “I need a drink,” Mansel said.

  He went out to the water cask and dipped out some water, which he drank, then he poured the rest over his head. The cold water trickled down through his hair and made him shiver in the early morning air. He rubbed his face with his hands and slicked back his hair.

  “Where’s this ship?” Quinn said, coming up behind him.

  “I don’t know; I haven’t seen it,” Mansel said, turning around to face his mentor. “The captain said it was too far behind us to be seen last night.”

  “But the captain saw it, and how do you suppose he did that?”

  “From the masthead,” Mansel said, pointing up high over his head at the sailors in the rigging. “At least, that’s what he said.”

  “Let’s go find the captain,” Quinn said angrily. “I want to make sure nothing’s changed.”

  They walked up onto the quarterdeck to where the captain stood by the helmsman. The captain was a short man with a thick, woolly beard. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

  “Ah, you are back on your feet, signore,” said the captain. “Your friend has told you of our predicament, I think.”

  “Yes, and he told me you think this has something to do with us.”

  “You can see how I might come to that opinion, signore. It makes sense, no? I thought it best to make sure I understood why someone might be following us.”

  “It has nothing to do with us,” Quinn said.

  “How can I be sure?”

  “There’s absolutely no reason why anyone would be following us.”

  “We shall see, eh? The ship should reach us late this afternoon. Until then, I prefer that you stay in or near your cabin.”

  “And what about our weapons?”

  “You shall not need them,” the captain said.

  “That’s not good enough for me,” Quinn growled.

  “I’m afraid it’s the best I can do, signore. I must think of my ship and my crew first, that is why I am the captain, I think.”

  Quinn was fuming. He couldn’t believe the arrogance of the ship’s captain, as if depriving them of their weapons would actually keep the ship safe. He stormed back toward their cabin and Mansel followed him.

  “What are we going to do?” Mansel asked.

  “I don’t suppose there is anything we can do, at least not yet.” Then he said in a softer voice, “We need to locate our weapons.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “We’ve got some time,” Quinn said. “I think the best thing to do at this point is to watch and wait. If the ship behind us is really a threat, the crew won’t be happy. At the very least, they’ll be readying their own weapons and we can raid their supply until we find our own.”

  “Alright, that sounds like a reasonable plan,” Mansel said. He wasn’t really happy about the situation, but there was no way for them to find and get back their own weapons. He would have to wait and watch, just like Quinn said.

  It didn’t take long for Mansel to get hungry. He went into their cabin and found some bread and cheese. He also found some smoked bacon and olives. He took his feast to the small window and watched the crew while he ate. They didn’t seem nervous, he thought. But they did spend a lot of time looking back in the direction they had come from.

  Mansel’s back and shoulders felt tight so he went on the deck and did some exercises. Quinn joined him. The two of them had worked up a good sweat when the sales begin to flap loosely, as if the wind had stopped blowing. They both looked up at the fluttering sails. Then they heard the captain shouting orders.

  “She’s overbearing and stealing our wind,” the captain cried.

  Mansel and Quinn looked back and saw the other ship bearing down on them. The ship was still far enough away that the men on board looked like tiny ants scurrying around. Mansel found it difficult to believe that the other ship could affect the wind in the sails of his own ship, but he had to admit something was wrong. The sails were flapping, causing the ropes to whip against each other in the masts. The sailors who were aloft were forced to hang on for dear life.

  The captain turned the ship, shouting his orders in an effort to be heard above the wind and sails. Mansel and Quinn were helpless. They stood back and watched as the sailors rushed around the ship. Mansel thought they looked nervous now.

  “It’s no good, captain,” the first officer shouted. “They’re matching us turn for turn.”

  “To arms, men, to arms!” the captain screamed.

  Mansel looked at Quinn, but the older man was calm, merely looking at the captain. The sailors rushed to get weapons. They had thick-bladed cutlasses and cudgels and short, curved knives. They took up positions around the railing and waited while the other ship moved closer. The captain shouted to the men in the rigging, and the sails were hoisted up and tied to the crossbeams so that only the topsails were left open, to keep the ship from drifting aimlessly.

  “Why doesn’t the captain take up all the sails?” Mansel wondered out loud.

  “He keeps those highest sails up to protect his ship,” Quinn said. “If the ship’s drifting, it could suddenly turn broadside right in front of the other ship and no one could stop the collision. This way, even if he loses the ship, the men all have a fighting chance.”

  The rogue ship drew closer, and the captain sent his first officer to fetch Quinn and Mansel. They joined the captain on the quarterdeck.

  “Now we shall see what they intend, I think,” said the captain. “Go and fetch their weapons,” he ordered one of his men.

  They stood waiting as the other ship drew closer and closer. Mansel noticed that everyone grew agitated as the wait stretched on. The captain seemed to be waiting for the other ship to make some sort of signal or message, but all they saw was the quiet efficiency of a well handled ship.

  “Why don’t they make some sort of demand,” asked the first officer.

  “I don’t know,” said the captain.

  Then suddenly a hail of arrows came flying from the attacking ship. The crew took cover wherever they could, shouting and screaming. Quinn realized that the arrows were meant to demoralize the crew more than hurt them. Still, there was nothing he could do to control the crazed men.

  “Captain, give us our weapons,” Quinn said. “We’ll take a position where the pirates plan to come on board. That may give you time to get your men in order to repel the attack.”

  “You want to go where the fighting is the thickest?”

  “We’re no strangers to fighting,” Quinn said. “And we have a mission to complete. If that means we have to fight pirates, then we’ll fight pirates. Just tell yo
ur men to stay clear of us and focus on any place the pirates might try to flank us.”

  “As you wish, signore,” the captain said. “They should come aboard at that point, there,” he pointed towards the middle of the ship on the starboard side. “It’s what I would do.”

  Another hail of arrows came fluttering down, most of the projectiles were deflected from their course by the rigging or the sails so that they fell harmlessly to the deck. The first officer handed Mansel his sword and shield. One of the other sailors gave Quinn his belt and scabbard. Quinn quickly buckled it around his waist and made sure the throwing knives were where he wanted them. Then they ran down to the ship’s railing and made sure they both had plenty of room.

  “Check your footing,” Quinn said.

  Mansel kicked a coil of rope out of his way and swung his sword to loosen the muscles in his arms and shoulders. The heft of the shield and the anticipation of battle felt good to Mansel. He had sat idle too long, he thought. He had no wish to die at sea. It seemed desolate, and foreign, but at least he would die with a sword in his hand, if it came to that.

  “Any more advice?” Mansel asked as the pirate ship pulled alongside the Nightingale.

  “Don’t get killed,” Quinn said grimly. “And give them hell.”

  Chapter 20

  They could see the pirates brandishing weapons on the other ship as it came gliding alongside the Nightingale. They were maybe ten feet apart when three of the pirates threw grappling hooks onto the ship. The Nightingale’s crew was ready for this tactic and rushed toward the ropes with axes.

  “What are they doing?” Mansel asked.

  “The pirates want to pull the two ships together,” Quinn said. “It makes it easier for them to board.”

  The Nightingale’s sailors hacked at the ropes, which had caught on the railing. The two ships had been pulled close, but once the ropes were cut, they separated a little. The pirates tried again, first shooting arrows to give them more time to secure the two ships together, but Quinn and Mansel’s example of bravery had given their shipmates courage. They ducked low to avoid the arrows, most of which overshot the Nightingale completely now that they were so close. The pirates tried six different grappling lines, but again they were cut off.

  Then the pirate ship veered over, steering right into the Nightingale’s side.

  “Hold on!” shouted Quinn.

  There was a crash which rocked the entire ship. Mansel had trouble staying on his feet, but he managed, just as a group of pirates jumped on board the Nightingale. They were fierce looking men; their long, greasy hair was tied back into thick braids. They wore mismatched clothes that were patched together using whatever materials were at hand. They almost all had livid looking scars, as if their old wounds had been left untended, leaving them disfigured. They carried heavy cutlasses and small axes that were more suitable for wounding than for killing.

  Mansel met the first pirate with his shield raised. The pirate’s cutlass bounced off the hardened wood and left him vulnerable to a quick thrust from Mansel’s sword. The blade bit deeply and then just as quickly was ripped free to face another pirate as Mansel swung low, slashing through the man’s hamstring. A third pirate leapt from the rail, his axe raised above his head. He brought the weapon down as he fell, using all his momentum in one mighty blow. Mansel took a chance and thrust to shield up and forward, so that he caught the axe on the handle instead of the metal head. There was a crunch as the pirate’s fingers broke, and he dropped his weapon, screaming in pain. Mansel kicked the man in the chest, sending him toppling over the ship’s rail backwards and into the cold waters below.

  Quinn was busy, too, fighting with a ferocity no one expected. He met the first pirate before the man’s feet touched the deck, slashing his sword across the man’s face. Then he swung around in one fluid motion, batting down the cutlass with his sword in one hand and smashing his dagger into the assailant’s stomach up to the hilt with his other hand. The pirate stood frozen with shock, and Quinn took the opportunity to throw one of his thin-bladed knives into the chest of an onrushing pirate. Then he jerked the dagger free and turned to face his next opponent. It was a big man, strong enough to wield a Borian scimitar. The weapon had a curved blade that grew broader towards the point. Quinn backed away, making sure he was moving toward the closest mast. When he felt he was close enough, he waited and, sure enough, the giant pirate swung the big sword in a looping slash meant to chop off Quinn’s head. But the wily carpenter was expecting just such an attack. He ducked under the massive blade and let it chop into the mast, where it stuck fast. Quinn didn’t wait but darted forward, staying low, as he swung his own sword toward the giant’s boot. The blade cut through leather before severing the big man’s Achilles tendon. The massive pirate fell to the deck like a tree. Two of the Nightingale’s sailors jumped forward to finish the pirate off.

  Four more pirates had scrambled on board while Quinn was fighting the giant. He dashed at them, dancing through their untrained attacks like a vengeful spirit. No one could touch him and his blades were everywhere. He sliced through one man’s throat and another’s stomach. Blood covered the older man’s face and arms.

  Mansel, too, was a whirlwind of destruction, knocking two pirates back into the sea before they even landed on board. The ships were bouncing together and then apart. The pirates timed the jumps so that they had the best chance of landing safely on the Nightingale, but there was no safety on board the schooner. The deck was growing slippery from the gore and the pirates had a hard time keeping their footing. Most were hesitant to attack Quinn or Mansel, so they turned to other ways of getting on board the ship. Some swung across from their own ship’s rigging, but the sailors were waiting for them. Once safely onboard the Nightingale, they faced three or four sailors, who weren’t experienced fighters, but their advantage in numbers was enough to defeat the pirates.

  Quinn threw his second knife at a pirate just before he jumped on board the ship. The man went crashing into his own railing and tripped the man beside him, causing him to fall into the sea. On and on the battle went; two men tried to attack Mansel simultaneously, as he swung his shield with such strength that he batted back both cutlasses. He kicked one man in the groin while he waved his sword at the other pirate. The first man dropped to the deck and the other scrambled back, only to find Quinn’s sword stabbing through his back, the bloody blade protruding from his chest.

  The pirate captain was shouting orders to his men. They had expected an easy haul, but the men aboard the cargo ship were fighting ferociously. The captain decided to try a new tactic. He let his ship drift back behind the Nightingale and then he swung around to the opposite side. The pirates again shot arrows, but this time the projectiles were dipped in tar and set on fire before being aimed toward the rigging. The Nightingale’s crew was forced to deal with this new threat. Mansel and Quinn moved to the opposite side of the ship and took the brief respite to catch their breath.

  “Are you okay?” Quinn asked.

  “Yes,” Mansel replied.

  “Don’t expect them to use the same tactics this time around.”

  “What more can they do?”

  “I don’t know,” Quinn said. “But I think it’s wise if we find some cover while we wait to see what their next move is.”

  There wasn’t much cover to be found on the Nightingale’s deck. Quinn stood by the mainmast, which was a thick post with ropes snaking around it. Mansel stood behind a massive jumble of the ship’s netting. Glowing sparks and cinders from the fires in the rigging drifted down around them. Sailors were throwing buckets of water across the deck to soak the wood and keep it from igniting. High up in the rigging sailors were beating at flames with whatever they could find. The fire from the arrows wasn’t a serious threat yet, but Quinn knew that if the pirates attacked again, he and Mansel couldn’t expect much support.

  “Here they come,” shouted the Nightingale’s captain.

  This time the pirates had long planks
with hooks on each end. When the ships came together the planks were dropped across the rails. The planks held the ships together and served as little bridges for the pirates to run across. Quinn ran forward immediately when he could see that there was no easy way to cast off the planks. As the ships moved apart, the momentum drove the hooks deep into both ships’ rails. A raucous cry of victory rose up from the pirate’s ship.

  Then pirates dashed across the planks and onto the Nightingale. Quinn and Mansel charged forward to meet them, shouting their own war cries as they came. Quinn ducked under the first assailant’s blade and slashed his sword across the man’s belly. He heard the gurgled scream but was already engaged with another pirate. Mansel used his size and strength to his advantage, bowling over the first man who happened to be in his path and batting another to the side with his shield as he lashed out with his sword toward a third man.