Two more bolts quickly followed, this time both striking home. One passed so close to Teldin’s head that he could smell the oily, black smoke of burning rags. The bolt hit the deck but did not bite. It instead skittered across the planking until it lodged at the base of the aft cabins, where it splintered the thin wall. Along its path was a trail of fitfully burning oil. The broken wood where it had held blazed furiously, the pine-tar caulking catching fire. The second shot went high, tearing somewhere into the rigging overhead, but Teldin had no time to follow its course. He grabbed the bucket that was thrust into his hands and hurried to douse the blaze on deck. As the crew smothered the last of it, Teldin could heat shouting from above. “I don’t understand, Galwylin,” Teldin yelled to the elf. “If they’te pirates, why ate they trying to burn the ship?” he asked while hastening back to the wall’s shelter.
“Not the ship, Bare Tree, the sails. Look aloft.” The elf nodded upward to the masts. There Teldin discovered the cause of the shouting. The second bolt had struck the mainsail squarely, leaving a gaping tent in the canvas. The missile had torn through to land in the ocean, but not before gobbets of pitch had rained over the elven sail. Already the blaze had spread from the edges of the teat, the flames racing along the sun-bleached fabric.
“Cut the sail!” commanded Cwelanas. “Do it now!”
Ahoy below!” sang a voice from the shrouds, followed by a rapid series of whiplike cracks. The mainsail sagged in the middle, then drooped at one end, and finally crashed through the rigging to tumble, aflame and aflutter, to the deck below. Teldin leaped out of the way, the flaming cloth driving him toward the stern. A bellowing cheer echoed from pirate ship’s deck.
“Night watch, hoist it overboard and hurry! Day watch, to your positions!” dictated Luciar amid a swirl of sparks and ash. His thin, old voice strained to shout above the growing noise. The designated crewmen struggled with the tangled mass of burning sail, beating back the flames and swearing vehemently as the cloth snagged on every projection. Spear in hand, Teldin worked his way back up to the barricade neat the base of the afterdeck ladder. Looking forward, he saw Gomja still in the bow. The giff was coolly loading his pistols, ignoring the havoc astern.
With the mainsail gone, the advantage the Silver Spray had was suddenly trimmed. Teldin could hear the snap of bowstrings from the elves aloft, bowshots the minotaurs paid back in kind. The table barricade in front of Teldin reverberated as the barbed head of a harpoon savagely rammed through. The stowaway jumped back, realizing the crude barricade did not provide immunity. He was just as astonished when the table started to back over the gunwale.
“Cut the rope, human!” Cwelanas shouted from the top of the ladder. The elf maiden was dressed in chain mail, finely woven but oily gray, and she held a brightly painted shield to block any arrows from her unprotected face. With her cutlass she pointed to something on the outside of the hull. “The harpoon!”
Teldin scrambled halfway up the afterdeck ladder and thrust himself over the wall until he could reach over the barricade. A light line ran back from the harpoon that transfixed his table, all the way to the minotaur vessel. Their ship was so close now that Teldin could see the horned monsters hauling on the thin cable that stretched across the open space. The barest glance down the length of the Silver Spray showed other lines, some in the hull, others in the barricade. Suddenly a set of bookcases from Luciar’s cabin toppled over the side, banged against the hull, and splashed, broken, into the ocean. As he hung over the edge, the stowaway glimpsed minotaur archers aiming in his direction. Teldin fumbled a dagger from his belt and quickly sliced through the line. He wasted no time and tumbled back behind the wooden wall. The table shook with a series of thuds as enemy arrows struck moments too late.
“Well done,” said Cwelanas with a faint smile. They were the first kind words she had said to Teldin. “More voyage than you expected?” She stepped away as an arrow struck the deck at her feet.
Teldin nodded. “Do we have any chance? It looks as if we’re badly outnumbered,” he shouted up at her.
The smile vanished and was replaced by a grim look for the minotaurs. “That is true, Teldin Moore, but we still have a few tricks for them-or we all may die. They are almost upon us now. Fight well, human. I will be watching you.” At that Cwelanas hurried toward the stern.
A flurry of spears announced the next phase of the minotaur attack, but the elves were unscathed behind their wall. The spears were immediately followed by the loud clangs of metal hitting wood. Grapples bounced over the barricades or hooked into the railings. A few elves leaped forward to cut the thick cables. One fell, gurgling, to the deck as a spear jutted out the back of his throat.
The minotaurs were then upon them. With a rending crash, large sections of the barricade gave way, clattering into the ocean. Teldin’s table teetered and fell, leaving him uncovered. The breach was immediately followed by a small series of charges along the line of the deck as the fiercest of the bullheaded men leaped across the narrow gap between the two ships. Their faces were bestial- fanged mouths flecked with foam, thick manes fluttering in greasy strands, and dirty yellow eyes filled with hate. Jabbing with his spear at the man-beast’s rage-twisted face, Teldin struck the creature closest to him as it sprang across open space. The minotaur roared with insensate pain and plunged into the ocean as it clutched at a mined eye. The creature’s fall bought the stowaway a little breathing time.
Elsewhere along the rail, the first wave was going against the elves. The minotaurs were breaking through the gaps, fighting their way onto the Silver Spray’s deck. Clangs of metal, howls, and screams filled the air. Overhead, the elyen archers were having greater success. Practically clinging to the rigging by their toes, they poured arrows down upon the pirate ship’s deck. A desultory sprinkle of arrows came in reply, since most of the minotaur bowmen were already slain or injured.
At the bow, Teldin saw a sudden cloud of white smoke, followed almost instantly by a sharp crack. A minotaur at the rail flopped backward, clutching at its face. The smoke and sound repeated and another beast sank to its knees and disappeared in the surging mass of battle. As the wind blew the smoke away, Gomja strode into view, hewing and lunging his way toward the stern with his broadsword. Teldin could hear the giff bellowing, already trying to whip the elves into a counter-boarding party to carry the battle to the pirate decks. Those minotaurs who saw the giff recoiled at the appearance of a creature as formidable and bizarre as themselves.
Just as abruptly, Teldin’s attention was forced back to his own surroundings. A pair of minotaurs hurtled over the rail, a single axe stroke from one brutally sweeping the elf closest to Teldin aside. More elves sprang to replace their fallen comrade, who writhed on the ground at their feet, but one of the horned creatures, foam on its lips and nostrils, bore down on Teldin. The horned creature towered over him, hefted an axe, and brought it down in a wicked slash. Teldin was trapped against the aft cabins but managed to scramble up the afterdeck stair just as the axe blade hacked through the bottom rung. The farmer thrust his spear’s tip deep into the minotaur’s shoulder. The creature snorted in fury and swung the axe again, gradually driving Teldin up onto the afterdeck. Teldin was vaguely aware of Cwelanas engaged in her own battle behind him.
Somehow, over the noise of the battle, Teldin heard a voice reciting a tortuous incantation not far behind him. As he dodged his opponent’s blow, the human saw Luciar, dressed in red ceremonial robes, engaged in a brief ritual. He was preparing to cast a spell, the farmer guessed. “Keep them away from Father,” Cwelanas shouted, her voice strained as she parried a savage blow from the beast in front of her. Teldin grunted in understanding, the best he could manage at that moment.