"To do that they'd have to be… gigantic."
"Bigger than islands, they say."
"But you've never actually seen these things yourself?"
"Not… until now." He was staring over her shoulder.
She turned.
Something was rising from the angry water. At first, with spray and mist obscuring the view, it was hard to make out what it was. As it continued to rise it became clearer.
It was an appendage, a tentacle with the girth of a temple pillar. Like a blind cave worm it was greyish-white, and its gristly skin was dappled with thick blue veins. Soon it had risen to the height of the ship, and was still growing.
Another tentacle erupted from the water, much closer to the vessel; near enough to rock it and send a wave over the rail. Soaked and dazed, the dwarfs retreated.
Shouts and screams had them turning to the opposite rail. On that side, too, tentacles were rising. The dwarfs stood transfixed as more and more emerged. In minutes the tentacles, swaying grotesquely, stood taller than the mainmast. All around the ship the water frothed wildly.
One of the tentacles came down, striking the deck a tremendous, sodden blow. Another swept in horizontally, demolishing the rail and causing dozens to duck. When a third crashed into the bridge, the dwarfs snapped out of their stupor.
They set about attacking the odious limbs with cutlasses and axes. The rubbery flesh proved resilient. Blows glanced off, and only continuous hacking made any impression. When blades did break through to tissue they released copious amounts of a glutinous ochre-coloured liquid. Its disgusting stink had them reeling.
The tentacles weren't just causing damage to the ship. Somehow sensing the dwarfs and humans, they slithered at remarkable speed to entwine any they could catch. Screaming victims were hoisted into the air and over the side.
Encircled by a muscular tentacle, the mainmast snapped like matchwood and toppled, pinning dwarfs and humans alike. So dire was the situation that even the Gatherers joined the effort to repel the Krake. They were using improvised weapons, or snatching up swords and axes dropped by dwarfs who had been taken. In the face of disaster the slavers and their one-time captives made common cause. Not that it made much difference.
"This is hopeless!" Spurral yelled as she battered at a writhing tentacle.
"We'll have to abandon ship!" Kalgeck returned. He was smothered in the foul-smelling yellowish-brown life fluid.
"I wouldn't give much for our chances on the open sea!"
"What, then?"
"Just keep fighting!"
A bellowing human was dragged past, a tentacle wrapped around his legs. Spurral and Kalgeck tried to hack him free, but their blades made practically no headway. The unfortunate Gatherer was whipped over the rail and disappeared.
Ominous creaking and rending sounds came from the ship's bowels. Above deck, tentacles ripped through timber as though it were parchment. Planks buckled, the remaining masts shuddered, canvas fell.
The ship lurched violently. Then it began to descend.
"We're going down!" Kalgeck shouted.
Water began pouring over the rails and swamping the deck. It was ankle-deep in seconds, then knee- and quickly waist-high. Panic broke out.
Spurral felt as much as heard the hull crushing. Dwarfs and humans were swept overboard. She looked around for Kalgeck and saw him being carried over the rail by a torrent of water.
There was a dizzying drop as what remained of the ship was pulled beneath the waves.
Spurral was immersed. Underwater, all was chaos. The sinking craft, shedding fragments. A jumble of barrels, chests, ropes, scraps of sail, struggling bodies, twisting tentacles.
Just briefly she glimpsed animate forms, deathly white and grotesque in appearance. They were of enormous bulk, and their repugnant flesh pulsated horribly. She saw gaping, cavernous mouths lined with fangs the size of broadswords. And she caught sight of a single massive eye, unblinking and afire with greedy malevolence.
Then, mercifully, total darkness closed in on her.
22
Once the ship they had set on fire was out of sight, the Wolverines inspected their second craft. According to Pepperdyne, the only one with any real knowledge of boats, the damage was worse than he had first thought.
"That magic beam punched through the hull in a couple of places," he explained. "Kind of sprinkled it. Look, you can just see the burn marks around the holes."
Stryke leaned and nodded. "And?"
"It left us with a number of leaks. Small and slow, but a nuisance. We can patch them up, and get somebody bailing."
"So what's the problem?"
"I don't know how much the timbers might have been weakened by the hit. It could get worse, and we don't have what we need for a major repair."
"What can we do?"
"Stop at the next island we come to and hope it's got trees."
"We'd have to change course. That'd slow us."
"We'll slow a damn sight more if we sink. Where is the nearest island?"
Stryke took out the chart and unfolded it. "There," he said, jabbing at a spot.
"I'm not sure if this boat would make that."
"Great," Stryke sighed. "Any ideas?"
"When this sort of thing happened back in Trougath we'd lash the boats together."
"If this one sinks won't it take both boats down?"
"You have to look at it the other way round. The buoyancy of the good one keeps them both afloat. It's not ideal, Stryke, but it should get us there. Though joining the boats will slow down our speed, of course, and it'll steer like a cow."
"With that Pelli Madayar after us, this isn't a good time to fetter ourselves."
Pepperdyne shrugged. "Only other thing I can come up with is abandoning this boat and squeezing everybody into the good one. Mind you, that would slow us down a lot too. Not to mention things would be kind of crowded."
Stryke considered it. "No, we won't do that. It'd cramp our style too much if we have to fight. Take as much help as you need and see to the lashing. But do it fast; I feel like a sitting target."
"Right. Jup'll have to be told about the delay."
"I know, and he's not going to like it. You get on here. I'll tell him."
The boats were already linked by a couple of lengths of rope. And they were near enough to each other that Stryke could easily step over.
Jup was at the prow of boat one as usual. He was leaning over the side and stretching his arm to get his hand in the water.
"What are you doing?" Stryke asked.
Jup straightened and wiped his wet hand against his breeches. If anything, the sombre expression he'd worn since they set out was more intense. "I was trying farsight."
"I thought this much water stopped it working."
"It does, mostly. I'm… I wanted to do something, you know?"
Stryke nodded.
"And I picked something up," the dwarf added.
"You did?"
"A life force. Or maybe a whole lot of them clustered together. Really massive. Big enough to counter a lot of the water's masking effect."
"Any idea what it is?"
"No. But it's got an… atmosphere that I don't like. Definitely didn't feel friendly."
"How far away?"
"Hard to say. The amount of energy it threw out, it could be a long way off. But my guess is that it isn't too far."
"Is it a threat?"
"Who knows? But like I said, it didn't come over as pleasant."
"We'll be on our guard." He considered his sergeant. "There's nothing to say it's anything to do with Spurral."
"No. Not directly. But knowing she's out there with… whatever isn't a good feeling."
"We've got to detour, Jup."
" What? Why?"
"Pepperdyne says the other boat might sink if we don't find an island and fix it."
"Shit." He looked over at boat two. Pepperdyne and several Wolverines were starting work. "What're they doing?"