The sea devil bucked and twisted, swimming in fear now instead of being so confident. Instinctively, the creature dived, heading for the depths that protected it from so much of the human race.
Struggling to maintain his grip against the pull of the ocean and his opponent's slick, scaled body, Jherek felt the pressure increase against his ear drums. Much past sixty feet, he knew, and he risked a case of the rapture of the deeps even if he survived to reach the surface. He'd seen men who'd survived the rapture, though their bodies had been bent and twisted forever by it.
Desperate, he located the sahuagin's sound chamber in back of its wide mouth by touch, then drove his blade through the thin membrane, up into its inner ear, and into the brain beyond. He didn't stop pushing until the hilt stopped against his opponent's jawline.
The sahuagin convulsed at once as death claimed it.
Spots spiraled in Jherek's gaze when he released the dead sea devil. Still jerking as its nervous system gave out, the sahuagin sank, disappearing into the lower reaches of the sea. The young sailor swam for the surface. He spotted the second shark, already floating belly-up, a silent testament to the deadly skills of the sahuagin. The sea devil that had slain it moved only feebly nearby, offering no threat.
After surfacing, Jherek allowed himself only two quick breaths to recharge his aching lungs, then struck out for Butterfly. He watched deckhands hang oil lamps along the starboard side of the cog, their first line of defense against the sea devils. The sahuagin fear of fire held them back at first, and the brightness of the light hurt their eyes.
He overtook Yeill while she was still seventy yards from the cog. The young Amnian woman struggled, barely keeping her face above the water. When he came up on her from behind, she screamed in fear and turned around to swat at him with her hands. As a result, she went down at once.
Jherek grabbed her, wrapping an arm under her jaw as they both sank. He returned the knife to his shin sheath, secured his grip on her, and pulled them both back up. "Stop fighting," he commanded in a rough voice, hoping to get through her fear.
"Jherek?" she gasped, looking up at him.
"Hang on," he told her.
She spat water and snuffled as she cried, "There are fish men attacking the ship."
He felt sorry for her then, in spite of everything else she'd done to him that day. For all her posing and wealth, she remained yet a child. "They haven't taken her," he replied, "and they won't."
"Jherek!" a voice called from above as Butterfly bore down on them. She was coming fast enough that white caps rolled along her bow.
"Here!" he shouted back, blinking his eyes to clear them of the saltwater.
"Valkur's brass buttons, boy," the sailor yelled down. "Jumping in shark-infested waters like that, you must figure you got some kind of charmed life. I tell anybody that back home, they're going to chase me out of the tavern for telling tall tales. I hadn't seen it myself, I'd have called the man who told me about it a liar."
Jherek kept swimming. He'd never fully understood the things that moved him, but he knew what he couldn't do, and he couldn't have left the woman to die.
"Skiff's coming down, but we're keeping it tied up. Watch 'er as she comes down."
"Come ahead," Jherek said, treading water and watching Butterfly's approach, knowing it was going to be a near thing.
The skiff dropped down the side of the cog, the lines whirring through the pulleys. The little boat landed on the water with a flat smack that threw a wave of cold water over Jherek. Thinking she was going under again triggered another panic attack on Yeill's part. Jherek held her, speaking calmly to her as soon as their heads were above water again.
He reached out and grabbed the skiffs edge, feeling his bruised shoulder muscles writhe in agony as they took the sudden drag.
"I've got her, lad." Old Cowey, the sailor with the most seniority on Butterfly, took Yeill's wrist in his gnarled, scarred hand. He pulled her aboard the leaping skiff, dragged along through the cog's wake.
Jherek let the woman go, then caught the skiff's edge with his other hand and pulled himself aboard. He stepped over Yeill, who lay scared and shivering in the bottom of the skiff.
"Haul away," Jherek yelled up to the men manning the skiff's lines.
They started pulling at once, bringing the small craft up. They alternately railed against him and congratulated him on his success in saving the girl. The general consensus seemed to be that he'd gone insane, and everyone knew the gods favored those too stupid to save themselves.
Jherek didn't wait for them to tie the skiff off, knowing Cowey would take care of his charge. The young sailor leaped up and caught the hauling ropes and climbed. Level with the cog's railing, he swung his body out and landed lithely on the deck.
He scanned the opposite railing, seeing Finaren and the ship's crew hard pressed to defend against boarders. Despite the difference in height between the cog and the manta, the sahuagin attacked viciously.
"C'mon, you sea dogs!" Finaren bellowed at the rigging crew. "Butterfly's no pig to be wallowing in the trough! Make her fly or I'll have the hide off your backs when we get to Velen!"
The ship's crew reacted to their master's voice. Wind cracked in Butterfly's sails, creating distance from the sahuagin manta. The Amnian passengers stood balled up in the ship's prow, protective of their own circle.
Jherek raced across the pitching deck, pausing only long enough to take the cutlass and hook Hagagne "offered. He had no special weapons, comfortable with any that found their way into his hands. Malorrie had seen to it that he was trained in a cross section of them.
"Glad to see you made it, lad," Hagagne stated with relief as he fell in behind. "Thought I'd never see you again after you diving into them sharks like that. You do it again, though, you better hope them sharks have at you. I'll chomp on you myself if they don't."
Jherek ran the cutlass and hook through his work apron strap, then took the short bow and quiver of arrows Hagagne offered. He was one of the better archers among the crew.
"Hawlyng!" Finaren yelled.
"Aye, Cap'n," Hawlyng responded.
"I'll want to be using that fire projector today, Hawlyng!"
"Aye, sir. I've got 'er up and ready. Just you say when."
"Now!" Finaren howled. "I'm up to my arse in these damned deep devils!"
Jherek stepped to the railing as the crew made room for him. He notched an arrow to the string as he surveyed the manta coming around. The sahuagin clung to the sides as well as manning the oars. Their scaled bodies writhed in the effort of propelling their craft along with the oars. With the darkening sky full of storm clouds, they were crouched in shadow, but Jherek could easily spot the silvery eyes that haunted many sailors' dreams.
A sahuagin drummer stood in the prow, croaking out a rhythm. Jherek recognized it as serving the same purpose as a drum beater on a trireme. Flaming arrows from Butterfly's crew fell into the water and occasionally sunk home in the manta, creating bright spots of yellow flame against the darkness as they flew. When they hit the sahuagin craft, the oarsmen pulled back from the fires, but one of them would always fin a wave of water over it and put it out.
"You get that girl back?" Finaren asked.
“Aye." Jherek smoothed his wet hair back from his face, getting the measure of Butterfly's lunges across the uneven ocean. They were rising and falling little over fifty paces opposite each other, but at the distance, that fifty paces stretched out even further, making shots difficult.