Drawing his new cutlasses, Keelin met the man steel on steel, blocking and parrying every blow. Then the soldier went rigid and started shaking, his swords dropping from his hands and his body dropping to the deck a moment later. Smithe stood above the fallen soldier, his wicked dagger bloody and a snarl on his face.
“Cut the ropes,” Keelin roared as loudly as he could. “Push us away. Keep the sails up.” Keelin and Smithe rushed to the aid of the crew members attempting to defend their ship from invaders. They turned the tide of one small skirmish, outnumbering the soldiers and bringing them down with well-aimed stabs and slashes that left the poor bastards bleeding out their last.
Keelin slashed at a man’s leg and the soldier went down screaming, only to be stabbed in the face by Jojo’s spear. Keelin kicked the corpse away and stepped past it to reach the railing. He raised his sword and brought it down hard, severing one of the ropes that held the two ships together.
“Shove off,” he screamed, sheathing his swords for a moment and pushing as hard as he could against the navy ship’s railing. The two vessels started to part, slowly at first, steadily moving further and further. As long as they could keep any more grapples from locking hold, they would soon be far enough away to begin gathering some speed.
Keelin opened his mouth to give his crew some encouragement and looked up just in time to see an archer on the other ship loose an arrow.
Chapter 58 - North Storm
T’ruck laughed like a man possessed as his foes drowned around his ship. The first of the enemy fleet had cracked and fallen apart like stale bread when North Storm hit it, and now they were free of the wreckage and on the hunt for more prey.
His ship was fast, and it suffered from a poor turning circle due to its size. They didn’t want to get too far away from the fight, so T’ruck ordered the ship slowed as it turned to port. Their job was far from simple, and much of the outcome of the battle hinged on their success. They were, perhaps, the only hope now that the Fortune was sunk.
Everywhere boats were locked together with vicious fighting underway aboard them. T’ruck hungered to join in, to feel the thrill of combat, but he would follow the plan for now. North Storm was a ship like no other, with machines of war capable of tearing smaller vessels apart, and that was what they would do.
“Bring us in as close as you can,” T’ruck said to his navigators, Kanon and Serar. The ship was too large for a single wheel; it had two, and they needed to be turned in tandem. Serar was just a few minutes older than her brother, and the twins worked together as one on the wheels of North Storm. T’ruck couldn’t have asked for a better pair of navigators.
“We can cut those bastards’ tails off if you want, Captain,” Serar called as she turned the wheel.
“That is not your job,” T’ruck said. “Just get us close and let the bastards’ own war machines tear their fleet apart.”
North Storm levelled off, and they were close enough to the enemy’s arse that T’ruck could see the panic on the faces of some of the crew. They were engaged with Freedom, and the ships were locked together fast with Sienen Zhou’s crew holding the deck, under strict orders not to cross onto the other vessel.
“First three scorpions, fire,” T’ruck roared, and a moment later the weapons made an odd cracking sound as they released. Of the three bolts, only one hit its intended target, while one splashed harmlessly into the water and the third lodged itself into Freedom’s hull. T’ruck’s crew were quick to cut the ropes of the two bolts that had missed.
“Brace the wheel,” T’ruck called to his navigators, and then, “Second three scorpions ready for the next ship.”
The crew of the navy vessel realised what was happening too late. The bolt was lodged deep into the ship’s hull, and down so low it was dipping into the water. A perfect shot. As North Wind sailed on, the rope pulled taught and strained against the huge main mast. T’ruck heard his navigators grunt with the effort of keeping the ship sailing straight. The enemy vessel gave a visible lurch sideways just before a large section of its hull around the scorpion bolt ripped free of the surrounding wood. Water started gushing into the hole.
“Cut it free,” T’ruck shouted with a wild laugh, but the order wasn’t needed. His crew knew their jobs, and they were already busy setting up the next set of bolts.
They would gut as many of the enemy as possible. If they could sink them, they would; otherwise, their goal was to cripple the boats. Drake had claimed mobility would win the war as much as numbers or any magical fire, and T’ruck wagered he had the right of it. A ship without a rudder could do nothing but sit and wait for the pirates to pick them off.
Chapter 59 - King’s Justice
“Uh, Admiral,” Daimen said. “That big fucker is behind us and doing its very best to fuck us all in the arse.”
“Poole, if you cannot keep that tongue of yours civil, I will have it cut out,” Admiral Wulfden said through gritted teeth.
“In the middle of the battle? Seems like a right waste of man power, that.”
The admiral sighed and signalled one of his officers. “Turn the ship starboard, Commander. Have the ballistae ready to fire. Torches lit.”
“Aye aye, Admiral.”
They were one of the few ships not engaged in battle with the pirates; they were sailing in close formation with two other Man of Wars, and those two seemed more than capable of dealing with the pirates that had come alongside them. Wulfden had made sure to bring the ship to a stop, though, so as not to leave the protection of its escort.
“Whatever this plan of yours is,” Daimen said, “I hope it’s a good one, ’cos that ship is big and…”
“Poole,” Wulfden barked. “Shut up.”
Daimen held up his hands and watched as the behemoth with North Storm written on its side sailed along behind the navy vessels. It had already ripped the arses off two ships, and any moment it would be ripping the side from King’s Justice. Poole was fairly certain none of the crew would survive the swim back to Land’s End.
“Ready,” shouted the commander. “Take aim.”
The bigger ship was coming into full view behind them now, and Daimen spotted a giant near its wheel. Only one pirate he knew was so large, and that meant T’ruck Khan was aboard the other vessel. Daimen imagined the big captain tearing his arms off for turning traitor and quickly slunk back behind Admiral Wulfden.
“Fire,” Wulfden shouted, and torches were touched to the bolts loaded in the ballistae, making them sizzle. “Loose!”
The ship rocked with the force of the ballistae all releasing at once, and Daimen steadied himself on the admiral’s shoulder, the fatter man’s lower centre of gravity keeping them both upright. Four of the bolts hit home, lodging themselves in the side of the monster ship, and one splashed harmlessly into the water. Wulfden shrugged Daimen’s hand away from his shoulder.
“That it?” Daimen said. “Ah, we’re fucked for sure.” His jaw dropped as four successive explosions ripped a massive hole in the North Storm.
Chapter 60 - The Phoenix
Keelin tasted blood, felt it leaking down the side of his face and dripping from his chin. The arrow had grazed his temple. It occurred to him then that if the arrow had been just a couple of fingers to the right, he would have lost an eye. Worse than that, he would probably be dead. It was a sobering thought.
Arrows were still being traded back and forth between the two ships, and many of The Phoenix’s crew were up and pushing against the other vessel. Keelin felt as though he were in a daze, watching the scene unfold without taking part in it.