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“You don’t think they’ll ever come alongside.”

“No, I don’t. Before we can shoot at men, we’ll use fire. We’ll be prepared, but as the Far Seeker gets closer to us, we’ll have time to put fifty flaming arrows into her. All over the ship. They’ll be too busy putting out fires to use their bows or try to board. After their ship has a dozen fires, I’ll switch to regular arrows and hit anyone trying to put them out.”

“They’ll shoot back and set The Rose aflame.”

“Not with their bows. Ours reach twice as far. They will not even get into range if we do our job back there.”

“You have a lot of confidence in your bows. They look plain and awkward to me.”

Tanner said, “All of that is true. But remember our bows have twice the range and more accuracy. You told me that the Far Seeker is only a little faster than The Rose. That means it will be close enough to use our bows long before they can return fire. If Captain Brice is smart, he’ll veer off.”

Captain Jamison stuck his head out of the open window of the wheelhouse and said, “If you’re right about how far your arrows fly, there’s hardly time for you to get back there.” His eyes had taken on a wild, excited look. He almost looked happy.

While running to the stern, Tanner decided men react differently to danger. He felt excited also, but with more than a little fear was mixed in. And determination. A cold resolve that mirrored that of Carrion. Both of them had the ability to shut emotion out while they fought. He suspected the two archers were much the same. While serving in King Ember’s army, they had learned to take orders and fight with a discipline that others would not.

He pictured them standing suddenly and firing arrow after arrow while the charging enemy bore down upon them. If they stood their ground, they would win. If not, the battle was lost.

The narrow stern of the ship was crowded with six men. Carrion was ordering each archer to a spot where he would have the room needed, but he moved the bowl of oil further away. He showed the two crewmen how to wrap only the tip of the arrow, and not too much cloth. Then he dipped and held it near the small flame of a lamp.

He said, “Don’t light it until one of us reaches for it. You can dip and ready as many as you wish. When I let one fly, I’ll be reaching for the next. Keep the flame end pointed at that ship. Any questions?”

In the waning light, the two crewmen shook their heads.

Tanner watched the black ship gaining on them. It was just out of range. His fingers gripped the bow tighter.

The archer to his right said, “My bow will reach them from here, but not with the rag on the point. Just a little closer, my devious enemy.”

His mumbling reminded Tanner that while their longbows could reach further, firing too soon would give Captain Brice the opportunity to turn aside. He spoke to them all, “We’ll wait until their archers are almost ready to fire at us, but still out of range for them. This is not the same as before. We’re going to start as many fires in as many places as possible. The upper sails first. Then the lower, and put arrows high on the hull, and on the deck.”

Carrion said, “Remember. The sails first. And masts. If we get them burning, they’ll fall to the deck and start more fires. Like Tanner said, spread out your shots.”

Tanner said to the crewmen, who were each holding an arrow already dripping oil onto the deck, “Keep your lantern shielded from them until I say. We don’t want to tip them off for what’s coming at them.”

The crew of the Far Seeker crowded the port side rail as the ship turned slightly to starboard. It would come alongside The Rose upwind. At least three men held grappling hooks on long, thin lines they would throw when they were alongside, then they’d pull the two ships together while their fighting men swarmed to the other ship.

While attacking a cargo ship, the crazy screaming and waving of swords and knives would terrify the crew. Most would surrender without a fight. He imagined Captain Brice’s anger when at least three of his men fell to arrows. This was a battle Tanner couldn’t lose and survive.

“I kin hit them from here easy,” the one crewman whispered.

“Hold on,” Tanner ordered. Just a little longer. He drew ten more measured breaths ignoring the concerned looks from the other three archers and the two crewmen. In a voice as cold as the water racing below the hull he said, “Light and hand me my first arrow. Fire at will.”

The hand of the crewman shook so hard Tanner feared it might put out the fire before he managed to hand the arrow off. But Tanner finally had it fitted to the string. He pulled the string so far back his hand touched his cheek. He lifted it higher and let it fly, half expecting it to go over the top of the sails. Instead, it struck a mid-sail near the mast.

“Shoot high. The arrows drop fast,” he said, as another flew and hit the mainsail, near the bottom.

He reached for another, but had to wait until the crewman had one lighted. Two more arrows drew flaming streaks across the water, one missing the sails on the forward mast and striking the second one. The other must have had something hard on a mast, perhaps an iron band because it struck and fell. But it landed at the bottom of the sail and ignited a small fire that spread quickly.

On the Far Seeker, men left their fighting stations and ran for buckets and water. Tanner imagined them shouting that it was unfair. They were supposed to do that to the other ship. He released his second arrow, aimed at the wooden structure of the wheelhouse. The wood was, at least, twenty years old, painted a hundred times. It was as dry as tinder. With the help of the oil, it spread down as well as burning upwards.

He reached for another arrow as he watched the air between the two ships. It seemed there was an arrow streaking through the air at any time. All were traveling the same direction. He pulled and released another at a section of the sails without flames, and grinned as he saw two arrows strike in nearly the same place. One of the other had the same idea, but he didn’t know if it was Carrion or one of the archers.

Tanner held out his hand for another arrow as the black ship veered sharply away. He accepted the burning arrow and wished he could shake off the flame. There at the rail stood Captain Brice amid the crew racing to put out the fires. When they splashed water on them, it only serves to spread the flames. The oil fires refused to be extinguished by water.

The flaming arrow would have to do. He pulled, aimed a little ahead of Captain Brice, and a little above. He released. The arrow looked like it would overshoot the retreating ship, but then it lost speed and began to fall. It struck the deck only a step away from him.

Captain Brice screamed in fury, shaking his fist. Tanner reached for an arrow and quickly pulled the unlighted rag from the tip. He drew again, as the archer at his side said, “Save it. Too far.”

Tanner pulled beyond his cheek, almost to his ear and let it fly.

Captain Brice turned and looked right at him. As he leaned on the rail to bellow another obscenity or threat, the arrow struck. It hit the railing directly in front of him, between his hands. The sudden appearance of the arrow made him leap backward so fast his feet couldn’t stay underneath, like a clown taking a pratfall. He fell to the combined laughter of all six men on the stern.

“Guess it wasn’t too far after all,” the man said, “but that shot will be the makings of a tale I’ll have to be drunk as a skunk to pass on because nobody’s going to believe it.”

From the way Captain Brice reacted, he didn’t believe it either. Picking himself up from the deck while watching The Rose, he shook a fist. But the separation between the two ships continued increasing.