“Mind your heads!” Kael roared.
Riverwind ducked as he emerged from the hold, and the beam swung wildly overhead, barely a hand’s-breadth above him. The ship’s blue sails fluttered for a moment, then snapped suddenly as the wind filled them. With a groan of straining timbers, Brinestrider lurched forward, running back the way it had come. Slowly, as if weary from the effort, it began to right itself.
As soon as the ship finished tacking, Captain Ar-Tam let go of the wheel and started forward from the helm. He glanced at the sails, swore viciously, then pointed at Swiftraven, who had come up the ladder with Brightdawn. “You, boy! Go help my men let out the mainsail! We need all the wind we can catch!”
Swiftraven took a step toward the sailors, then stopped and looked at Riverwind, his eyes questioning.
“Go,” Riverwind commanded, waving his hand. As Swiftraven ran to help the crew haul on the halyards, Riverwind turned to Kael. “What are you carrying that would interest a pirate ship?” he asked.
The captain shoved past him, snarling a curse, but Riverwind followed him toward the ship’s prow. Spray washed over the bow as Brinestrider leapt across the choppy waves.
“What’s your cargo?” Riverwind repeated.
Kael glared at him. “What business is that of your’n?”
“If there are pirates after us, I want to know why.” The old Plainsman caught Kael’s arm as the captain tried to walk away. “You need my people’s swords. Tell me what we’re defending.”
“Grain!” Kael snapped. “I’m not carrying silver or spices, Plainsman-just crates of grain and a few tuns of wine. The Reaver’s dogs might take the drink, but if they open those crates below and see nothing but bloody barley, they won’t be pleased. They’ll want something for their trouble, and they ain’t above taking a few prisoners to sell at the slave markets in Sanction. They’ll get a good price for my crew and the boy-but the real prize will be your daughter there.” He nodded toward Brightdawn, who had joined Swiftraven at his rope. “A lass as fair as her will fetch a pretty price on the block… provided the pirates don’t use her up first themselves, of course.”
Riverwind glowered at the captain, then turned away and hurried aftward. The man who had gone below to fetch weapons came up through the hatch and began to pass out blades and clubs to his mates; many of the sailors also seized belaying pins and gaff hooks from racks on the masts and gunwales, looping them into their belts and muttering angry oaths.
From the stern Riverwind saw Red Reaver not far off. She was a tall, fast warship with deep crimson sails. Atop her mainmast, he could make out a black flag emblazoned with a white scythe. Though Brinestrider was running hard, moving faster with every heartbeat, the Reaver was gaining on them steadily, cuffing through the water like an arrow. Dark shapes swarmed over her decks and crowded against the rails, waving wicked swords in the air. The pirates’ war cries were faint, but they grew louder every moment.
“She’s gaining on us,” Brightdawn noted, joining her father at the rail. She rubbed her hands, which were red with rope burn. “I doubt we can outrun them.”
“Bloody right we can’t,” snapped the helmsman, glancing nervously at the Reaver. “Brinestrider’s a stout one, but we ain’t meant to move so quick. She’ll be on us right soon-Cap’n only brought us about to buy us time.” He spat vehemently on the deck. “You’d better be good with that sword there, old man.”
With all the cutlasses handed out, the sailor who’d brought them up from the hold ran to the hatch and slid down the ladder again, disappearing from sight. Less than a minute later, he scrambled back up, carrying crossbows and quivers of bolts. He handed the weapons to four sailors, who ran to the stern and began to cock the heavy weapons. As they fitted quarrels in place, Captain Ar-Tam hauled on Swiftraven’s arm, dragging him toward the stern.
“String up your bow, lad,” Kael ordered, shoving the young warrior into line with the crossbowmen. He turned to Riverwind. “You, too, old man. Let’s put a few of the bastards down before they get too dose.”
As Swiftraven and Riverwind bent their bows and nocked arrows onto the strings, Brightdawn continued to peer at their pursuers. “How many of them are there?” she asked.
Kael squinted at the Reaver, then shook his head. “Dunno. Two, maybe three dozen.”
“Three dozen!” Swiftraven exclaimed, shocked.
“Against how many?” Brightdawn asked.
“We got twenty crew, countin’ meself,” the captain answered. “Plus the three o’ ye, an’ the two kender.”
“The kender!” Brightdawn yelped. She cast about, looking up the deck toward the ship’s leaping prow. “Where did Kronn and Catt go?”
“I didn’t see them come up with us,” Swiftraven said, his eyes fast on the onrushing Reaver. He gauged the distance and the wind, waiting for the ship to get into range. “I think they stayed below.”
“Bloody cowards, is what they are!” snapped Kael.
“Mind your tongue,” Riverwind warned. “Kender can be many things, but they’re not cowards. They don’t know fear.”
“Well, if they’re so fearless then why in the Abyss aren’t they up here?” the captain shot back.
Riverwind glanced at the hatch, his brow furrowing, but said nothing.
Just then, one of the crossbowmen, overeager to draw first blood, raised his weapon and fired. His quarrel soared high, its steel head shining in the sunlight, but it fell quickly, splashing down into the water a hundred yards in front of the Reaver. Mocking laughter rang out from the pirate ship.
“Hold your fire, lackwit!” Kael snarled. “If ye put another bolt in the water, ye’re goin’ in after it! Watch the Plainsmen, if you ain’t got the sense to figure out when the Reaver’s in range. They know what they’re doing.”
“Swiftraven’s the best archer in Que-Teh,” Brightdawn declared proudly.
“Hush, Brightdawn,” the young warrior muttered.
“What for?” She turned to Kael. “He can shoot a sparrow out of the air at two hundred paces.”
“The wind’s against us here,” Swiftraven returned, “and sparrows don’t shoot back.” He nodded toward the Reaver. Several crossbowmen stood ready at her bow.
“Get some men back here with shields, Captain,” Riverwind said. “We’ll need the cover, and so will your helmsman.”
Kael hesitated, regarding the Reaver with a worried eye, then stomped up the deck, shouting to his crew. Within a minute, half a dozen sailors crowded the stern, holding up crude, wooden shields.
The Reaver glided closer. “Wait,” Swiftraven muttered, his forehead creased with concentration. “Wait…
“Come on,” Kael grumbled, paling at how close the pirate ship was.
“Be still!” Riverwind snapped, his grip tightening on his bowstring.
“Wait,” Swiftraven repeated. “Wait… now.” He raised his bow, pulled the string back to his cheek, and loosed his arrow. Riverwind fired a heartbeat later.
The two arrows dropped into the midst of the pirates, and a grunt of pain sounded across the water as a man fell. The crew of Brinestrider cheered, and Swiftraven grinned as he fired his second shot. Riverwind followed suit; then the crossbowmen joined in, peppering the Reaver’s deck with quarrels. Three more pirates went down, their bodies feathered.
Then the pirates returned fire.
“Shields!” Riverwind yelled as the snap of crossbow strings sounded from Red Reaver. A volley of bolts soared from the pirate ship, and the sailors raised their shields to block them. Even so, one of Brinestrider’s crossbowmen cried out as a bolt pierced him, punching into his chest below his collarbone. He dropped his crossbow and slumped to his knees, staring dumbly at the shaft that quivered in his body. A moment later, he fell face forward and lay still, blood pooling around him.