Dragon Mage- Uprising

by Brian Ference

  There came a spate of grumbles from the ragged group, but they stumbled out of their cell, still amazed at their luck.

  “Let’s get a move on then,” grunted Numestis.

  The group hurried back the way they had come until they reached the guardhouse. Livis warned the men to silence. “The moonlight might reveal us,” she hissed. “We hold until the clouds can hide us.”

  An eternity seemed to pass, waiting for safe passage. As the moonlight faded, Livis signaled the others, but their stealth came to naught.

  They had not yet reached the bottom of the hill, when one of the prisoners tripped on a root, smashing his nose on a rock and crying out in agony. His mate kicked him in the gut, hissing at him for silence, but a torch on the high wall flared to life.

  The alarm sounded in loud peals echoing across the moonlit bay.

  “Kraton end that stupid fool!” hissed Livis.

  Booted feet came echoing down the cobblestones from the garrison then arrows were striking the sand around them.

  The raiders raced for the rowboats in a shambling run, many of them stumbling on rubber legs.

  “Move your coral-spawned hides!” Livis yelled.

  Arrows sang out, whizzing over the convicts’ heads, catching one in the back. He fell like a piece of driftwood.

  Like beetles they scrambled up the beach, insects escaping the jaws of a predatory bird. With a snarling curse, Farnoss directed them into the boats and they set them rocking in the lapping waves.

  Livis turned in dismay as Garvee, the third gunner, crumpled as an arrow took him in the eye. “Hurry!” she croaked.

  Into the dark waves they rowed as a cannon atop the wall roared to life. Men ducked low in the boats as a near miss sprayed water into their flat-bottomed sterns.

  Livis put fingers to lips and gave a shrill whistle, signaling the ships anchored in the harbor. The first wide-waisted dory thudded against The Singing Gull’s hull and the light crew dropped ladders for them and reached hands down to haul them aboard one by one.

  At that moment, a high-hulled ship drove out of the harbor after them. Then came a second. At that moment, a thick fog drifted in from the sea, veiling the moon in a ghostly wrap of fog.

  The shriek of a dragon pierced the air.

  “They’re risking dragons for some escaped prisoners?” croaked Farnoss.

  Livs cried out, “It can’t be that. There must be a price on our heads. Defend the ship!”

  “Take up weapons, you ragbags!” shouted Skarlee over the mayhem.

  The deck shuddered as a ship rammed them. Grappling lines hooked on their rails and horned-helmed Black Claws wielding axes and swords stormed across the gap.

  With fierce yells, a score of bearded thugs shambled forth to grip cutlasses, axes and knives, and they fought shoulder to shoulder with the pirates of The Singing Gull. The prisoners fought like wild dogs rather than risk capture.

  Livis was knee deep in corpses by the time the fog cleared, but more were coming.

  Livis jabbed out her sword. “There!” she screamed, pointing to the enemy dragon.

  The gunner Kisten’s head jerked about. With a mad curse he swiveled the harpoon. The line shot out and a gleam of metal hit under the armored breast of the beast. The dragon shrieked in midair and corkscrewed down toward the sea.

  “Good shot, Kisten!” cried Livis. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Kirsten returned a faint grin. “Lucky shot.”

  Someone threw oil onto the enemy deck and Maquia tossed an accompanying lantern. They cut the grappling lines and the enemy ship floated away in a blaze of fire.

  In slow motion, The Singing Gull drew away from the burning ship and pulled out to sea with the other vessels of her brigade.

  Livis sank in a crouch before ship’s wheel with a grunt of exhaustion. “That was too close.” She peered from face to face, surrounded by the exhausted members of crew and convict alike.

  “All for the sake of a few ruffians,” growled Skarlee.

  “They fought well.” said Maquia. “We can use that kind of mettle.”

  They anchored in a safe place several leagues off Serpents Isle as the moon faded with a red dawn.

  Red morning moon, dead by noon. Livis murmured the proverb, a grim feeling pinching her gut, something of a premonition stirring the fibers of her being. She shrugged it off. Just nonsense. She couldn’t afford superstition now.

  “Call a meeting with Numestis and the other captains.” She looked out to sea and frowned, counting only three ships instead of four.

  “Where’s Krag?”

  “We saw him leave before dawn,” said Kisten. “Thought you had put them up to some secret task. Come to think of it, Vray our cargoman’s gone too.”

  Livis’s jaw sagged. She ran to her cabin to check on Cyrus’s stash. The gold was gone. She drew her cutlass and stabbed at her desk until it collapsed.

  Maquia came and stood by her side. “Nice kill, Mistress. Vray has skulked off with the gold. Do we go after them?”

  “They’ll be long gone by now,” said Livis.

  With many black thoughts on her mind, she forced her anger aside and turned with resolve to face the prisoners huddled in a knot at midships. She ordered Maquia to break open a keg of her finest spirits and let them drink their fill. She saw them fed and gave them new clothing. With solemn ceremony, she addressed them.

  “You’re sprung from prison, but you aren’t free men—yet. You have a debt to pay and I’ll take my payment in the blood of your enemies. From this moment on, the penalty for betrayal is death. Serve me loyally though, and I’ll make you all rich with a share of the spoils.”

  A few low cheers rumbled amongst the ragged group, then came grins and laughs.

  The rat-tangle-bearded man who had raised voice in the jail spoke in earnest. “We shall fight for you, pirate. You’ve treated us fairly, and not set us with ball and chain yet. See that you honor your promise.”

  Livis acknowledged the remark. It seemed she had won their hearts. “The bulk of you’ll outfit the Crowhaunt for now. The others I’ll scatter amongst Drass’s, Numestis’s and my own crew.”

  Strut grinned and drank his rum in a leisurely gulp. “Not to worry, ‘Mistress’. As long as you keep the rum flowing and the food in plenty, we’ll follow you into Kraton’s belly itself.”

  Chapter 15.

  Skullduggery at Sea

  Satisfied that the convicts had been settled in their places, Livis met with her officers. The sudden strange fog faded to a memory, as she focused on repairs. Two more pirate vessels came to join their cause.

  The next day, a ship bearing the flag of the home clans approached, hailing them with a companion flag of truce.

  Livis, sceptical at first, watched as a young captain rowing in with his quartermaster and engineer to parley with Livis and the pirate band.

  “Name’s Bresus,” he called up from his rowboat as it brushed the hull. “We sailed from Pirate Cove when my dragon scouted your ship. I hear Serle’s own daughter has betrayed him. Never cared for that codfish, we’d like to join you.”

  “A generous offer,” Livis called down to him in an even voice. “As you can see, our forces are small—for now. What news from Pirate Cove, Bresus?”

  The blond-bearded man’s face grew grave. “Tensions are high. I’m sorry to tell you, your mother’s been wounded.”

  “What?” A choked cry came to Livis’s throat. “What do you mean?”

  Bresus’s eyes dimmed. “She took an arrow in the arm from a Black Claw raid. They took the clan by surprise in the middle of the night. We sunk two of their miserable ships before they could escape. The medicus says she’ll live.”

  “Praise to Kraton then! Those cursed Black Claws’ll pay!”

  Maquia laid a hand on Livis’s shoulder. “Don’t fret, Mistress. We’ll burn their towns all along the coast. I promise that.”

  “Return to your ship, Bersus,” I’ll send for you soon. The captain rowed back t
o his ship and dropped anchor.

  Skarlee scoffed at him. “And can you blame them for retaliating? This is Serle’s doing. Ever since he joined with that foul wizard, he’s been hitting the Black Claw coasts harder than steel and stoking their wrath. It’s gotten out of hand. We’ve been raping their coasts for years now. This is the last straw.”

  Livis would hear no reason and gave her head a bitter shake. “No mercy, Skarlee.”

  “What about the gold?” Skarlee asked. “Won’t the wizard think we spent it and took his deal?”

  Maquia raked his sword along the rail. “We’ll use whatever ships we have against this mage should he try to force his hand upon us.”

  “You’ve got spirit, Maquia,” said Skarlee with a sardonic laugh, “I’ll give you that. But not much brains.”

  Knife in hand, Maquia drove in with a snarl.

  Livis sprang to her feet to catch Maquia’s knife on her blade. “Now’s not the time to turn on each other. I’ll deal with Cyrus if it comes to that. For now, let’s concentrate on the Black Claws. Any prisoners we take, we give them a choice—to join us and fight, or it’s to the mines.”

  She thought of her mother Darmestra and raw rage pushed bile up her throat. “We’ll build a navy that’ll be the envy of the world! We’ll restore order, then destroy this evil mage.”

  There were cheers to the boast, but some doubtful mutters ran amongst the crew.

  Skarlee grumbled into his beard. “You saw his magic, Mistress. How are we to defeat such a foe?”

  Maquia snorted in disgust. “No man’s invincible. I don’t care how many dragons or what type of magic tricks he has. One harpoon in the gut, it’s over.” He ran a finger across his neck. “We’ll make short work of our wizard, leave it to me.”

  “Scour the seas for Krag and the crew. Fate’ll catch up with them sooner or later, and we’ll slit their throats.”

  They raided up and down the Black Claw coast as they searched for the thieves. They captured two more schooners and freed another group of prisoners to further bolster their ranks.

  On the fourth day of full-out raiding, they caught up with Krag. Livis had doubled the number of ships at her command and they now overflowed with fighting men. Krag wisely raised a white flag and surrendered.

  Livis’s boat glided alongside his. The captains at their bows shouted over the waters, their gunners near the cannons.

  “Krag! We’ve been missing you and our gold,” hollered Livis across the gap.

  “Aye, Livis, but can you really blame me?”

  “I’m sure you won’t blame me for seizing your ship and retaking what’s mine.”

  “I would return it to you, but every last piece has been spent. All captains have equal share in the decision-making, remember?”

  “That doesn’t give you the right—“

  “I have new ships and men to outfit them—all for the cause.”

  Skarlee quipped, “Mercenaries by the look of them.”

  “How do you like my new sea villains, Skarlee, fresh from the Isle of Mea? An independent island broke free of the Black Claws generations ago. They feud with their brothers all the time.”

  “I like them not much more than your own treacherous face. And I see some fine new leathers to line your own pockets.”

  “And why shouldn’t I?” shouted back Krag across the waves. He twirled his sword. “I demand some return for my efforts. Wouldn’t you? Do you refuse to make use of the ships and men I’ve gathered?”

  Livis hesitated and her heart quailed with the spending of the Cyrus’s money. Frustration grew to sudden anger and her heart raged with the urge to lash out and have Krag whipped. Then she softened, hearing the echo of her father’s voice in her bitter tone. She shivered, hating the sound. I’ll not be like Serle! she vowed. “I treat everyone as equals,” she cried, “but I will not stand for mutiny. My men will take command of your ships, and you’ll surrender to my judgement.”

  Krag, eying the cannons aimed at him, snarled. “Perhaps it’s time for new leadership, ‘Mistress’. I challenge you to a duel!”

  Livis scowled. Krag was a skilled fighter, but she had been training with constant diligence with Maquia. No reason why she couldn’t win against this blowhard. “Very well, Krag. Winner take all.”

  Maquia whirled on her. “Mistress, are you sure? Krag is—”

  “—an arrogant oaf who needs to be taught a lesson.”

  Skarlee grinned as Livis drew her sword and fingered her blade with confidence. “We fight on neutral ground,” she shouted across the waves. “On Numestis’s ship.”

  “No quarter,” he yelled back. “We fight to the death. If I lose, you my ships and my men. I win, I become first captain, Agreed?” Livis could see in his sharkish expression, he would not hesitate to kill her and see his fortunes rise even further.

  “Agreed. Now are you ready to fight, or do you need to wax that fine new coat of yours first?”

  The man cursed and ordered his rowboat dropped in the waves. Livis did the same and soon they were both aboard Numestis’s ship.

  Numestis’s mates cleared an area at the midships deck. The various crews gathered around to watch.

  Livis drew her cutlass and beckoned Krag to initiate. The man attacked without preamble, hacking furiously in a bid to end the fight with as little ceremony as possible. Livis parried, then gave ground. Maquia had taught her well…wait for an opportunity to draw out an impatient opponent.

  Krag made a quick sally to pin her against the mast, but Livis caught the blade on her own, turning it aside as she spun to his left flank. She blocked his strike, then another, while the man began to tire, raining blow after blow with curses thick on his lips. Men began to jeer as Krag’s sour threats grew desperate. He overturned a barrel of grog and threw a coiled rope at her. Livis dodged only to earn a cut on her thigh.

  She forced back a yelp but held her cool and wiped away the blood.

  Krag laughed at the crimson line on her sleek flank and slashed a murderous loop, surging in for the kill. So…the exact move she had been waiting for. Rolling forward, she ducked under Krag’s strike and crashed her shoulder into his chest. Krag fell back, wrenching her blade from her hands while she brought both of them to the deck. In instinctive desperation her fingers snatched for the dagger at her belt.

  Snarling, Krag’s momentum brought him up again, bounding forward to finish her off. Then he paused, peering down at the dagger protruding from his chest. Livis rose to her feet to cheers as Krag sank against the railing, the whites of his eyes wide in disbelief.

  She pulled her blade free as Krag gurgled his last breath. “No one steals from me.”

  Her command now cemented, the pirates went on to raid prisons up and down the coasts and capture what ships they could. Krag’s absence was not missed. Livis set Vray along the shore of the Serpent Island, knowing that such men could not be trusted.

  On the sixth blood red morning of their reign of terror, a troop of fifty pirate vessels angled out of the mist and tacked in to intercept them. Livis’s heart gave a hollow flutter. She checked that emotion and held her head high, calling orders for her crew to maintain battle positions. She had the crow’s nest man signal Drass and others to stay close, keeping cannons and dragons on the ready.

  The lead ship came abreast The Singing Gull, fluttering the white flag of truce.

  “That’s Serle’s ship, Mistress,” gasped Farnoss. “We can’t outrun them without leaving our fleet ripe for the taking.”

  Livis stared at her father’s schooner, riding high in the water. Men stood at the rails, training fore-cannons straight at them. “Well, let’s hear what the sea-crow has to say.”

  The Persephone drew nearer, and Serle pushed through the knot of men gathered at the port bow to grip the rail. He ordered his fleet of half a hundred warships to stay well back.

  “Livis!” he boomed over the water. “I see you’ve gathered quite the armada. Bravo. But I could have expected nothing less. You
’re my flesh and blood after all.”

  She tilted her head in feigned surprise. “And what do you want of me, father? To take these ships as your own?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve had a change of heart.” He spread his arms to include her ship decked with its retro-fitted cannons and decks full of plunder. Her rigging swung heavy with able-bodied seaman and the new faces of recruits.

  She shrugged. “Say what you have to say and begone, Serle.” There were mutters of approval from the crew.

  Serle’s lips curled in anger, but he held his peace. His expression dulled, but she could see the gears turning in his mind.

  “Join with me and together we will rule the Dragon Sea!” called Serle. “We will take the coasts, the towns and rule the islands.”

  “I plan on doing that—without you.”

  “Listen! The wizard Cyrus—”

  “I don’t want anything to do with that black-slimed creep,” cried Livis. “You can take him and all the gold and dragons and shove—”

  Almost as if on cue, a daunting shape swooped down from the sky.

  “Ah, you’ve brought more ships for me!” called Cyrus down from his dragon. “Father and daughter, a team united at last,” the mage crowed, his cackling voice edged with sarcasm.

  Serle looked up at him with barely-concealed anger. “You have a gift for bad timing.”

  “I make it my specialty,” asserted Cyrus. He turned to Livis, spurring his dragon closer to her ship and goggling crew. “I see you’ve made good use of the gold I gave you. As for your part of the bargain, you and your father will meet in three days to attack Three Sisters’ Isles with both fleets. Don’t disappoint me.”

  Livis stroked her cheek, giving a sullen grunt.

  Cyrus spurred his dragon closer, gripped with a sudden angry insight. “You’ve no intention of meeting me at Three Sisters’ Isle, do you?” His eyes dimmed to slits. “Do you?” he yelled. “You dare to defy me?” His voice, cold as ice, hissed like the viper’s.

  Livis said nothing; her mouth twitched and a sudden snarl raged from her lips. “Begone, you serpent-tongued bottom feeder. Sacrifice someone else to your monsters, not us.”