Dreadaeleon’s fingers knitted, his mouth muttered as he looked over the Linkmaster, seeking a flammable target.
Lenk turned to check the Riptide’s preparations. Heartened by their seniors’ orders, the sailors had formed themselves into a working defensive line. Their wooden weapons were as shoddy as ever, but they had done the job before. The only difference between this and the previous attack was that this time the men were prepared to face the Linkmaster’s crew.
That, Lenk thought, and the fact that there are about three times as many pirates as there were before. . all a degree more psychotic than the last lot.
His own company was as organised as it was going to be. He hefted his sword, raising it as the ranks of grinning, tattooed faces grew larger with the pirates’ approach. Any hope of outrunning the fight was dashed; now, Lenk knew, it was down to skin and teeth.
‘The captain sends his best to you, lads,’ came a gruff, guttural voice from behind. Lenk recognised the sailor by his bandaged, burned arm if not by name as he came clambering up. ‘We’ll do our part. The boys are ready to ravage. I hope yours can say the same.’ Exchanging a grim nod with Lenk, he swept a glance over the other adventurers. He grinned as he spied Dreadaeleon. ‘Look at this brave lad, here. Can’t be more than me own boy’s age. Good on ’im, even if he did set me on fire before.’ He raised a hand over the wizard’s shoulder, and Lenk’s eyes went wide. ‘No hard feelings, eh-’
‘STOP!’
By the time the word had escaped Lenk’s lips, the sailor’s hand had come down and clapped the boy on the shoulder. In one slow, painful blink of the eye, Dreadaeleon’s stare shot wide open, eyes burning with crimson energy. Lenk barely had time to turn away before his companion instinctively whirled around, bellowed a single, incomprehensible word and extended a palm.
The world erupted into flame, and as the flashing orange faded, screams arose. The sailor’s hands went to his head, trying to bat away the mane of lapping fire that had enveloped his hair. The line of sailors parted as he tore through their ranks, his shrieking following him as he hurtled towards the railing.
‘I TOLD YOU!’ Dreadaeleon barked, suddenly aware of what had happened. ‘NO distractions! I told you NOT to let anything break my concentration or THINGS could happen!’
‘Well, I didn’t know that THINGS involved setting people’s heads on FIRE, you crazy bastard!’ Lenk roared back.
‘What in Talanas’s name is going on?’ Asper appeared on the scene in a flutter of blue robes and a flash of hazel eyes. ‘What happened?’
‘Isn’t it obvious, you shrew?’ Denaos barked at the priestess. ‘We’re under attack!’
‘Get back below!’ Lenk ordered.
‘I should stay,’ she contested. ‘I. . I should fight!’
‘The next time we’re attacked by pirates who are deathly afraid of sermons, I’ll call you,’ he roared. ‘Until then, GET BACK BELOW, USELESS!’
‘No,’ the rogue countered, ‘stay up here and see if your God loves us.’
Before she could form a retort, her eyes were drawn to the railing. A cluster of sailors had formed, straining to keep their immolated companion from hurling himself overboard while more men poured water on his blazing head. Suddenly, her gaze flitted past Denaos and Lenk, towards the scrawny boy trying to hide behind them.
‘Dread! Good Gods, was it not enough to nearly incinerate him the last time?’ she snarled and turned towards the men at the railing. ‘Douse him and bring him below! I’ll tend to him!’
Lenk watched her go with a solemn stare. Her medicine, he reasoned, would do little good in the heat of battle. And she was in no mood to linger near Dreadaeleon.
‘I knew this was a bad idea.’ The wizard shook his head. ‘I knew it, I knew it. My master always said I’d face this someday.’ He began to skulk off, trembling. ‘Oh, Venarie help me, I’m so bad at this-’
‘Where the hell are you going?’ Lenk howled. ‘What about setting something on fire?’
‘I already DID that!’ Dreadaeleon shrieked. ‘Venarie help me. . Venarie help me. . why did I listen to idiots?’
‘No, no, no!’ He rushed to seize the boy by his collar, pulling him back to the railing. ‘Take a deep breath, mutter something, inhale the smell of your own fart, do whatever it is you do to get your concentration back.’ He pointed to the black ship. ‘Just do one more little poof.’
‘Wizards don’t poof.’
‘Well, you’ll be one if you don’t burn that ship down! Just fire it up! Any part of it! We can still outrun it and let it burn.’
‘Right. . right. .’ The wizard inhaled sharply, moving to knit his fingers together again. ‘I just need to. . to set it on fire.’ He licked his lips. ‘Then I’ll be the hero.’
‘Yes.’
‘No,’ a rumbling voice disagreed.
Before Lenk could cry out, before he even saw the flash of crimson, Gariath’s tail had lashed out to smash against the boy’s jaw. Dreadaeleon collapsed with a shriek, unmoving. Lenk stared up at the dragonman, eyes wide.
‘What was that for?’
‘Magic is weak. It didn’t work. It’s a sign.’
‘A sign of what? That you’re a complete lunatic?’ He began to glance desperately about the deck, searching for something, anything that might help. ‘All right, this isn’t lost. Someone just go up and tell Kataria to-’
‘No.’
His breath erupted out of him, driven by a hard crimson fist in his belly. He fell to his knees, gasping. His eyes felt like they wanted to fall out of his skull and roll over the ship’s side as he looked up at Gariath, gasping.
‘What?’ he coughed. ‘Why?’
‘This battle was meant to happen. I was meant to fight it.’
‘We’ll. . die.’
‘If we’re lucky.’
‘This is. . insane! I had a. . a strategy!’
Gariath looked down at him coldly. ‘I can cave your face in. I make the strategies now.’
‘Damn. . damn. .’ Lenk cursed at his back as he stalked away He felt the shadow of Denaos behind him and snarled, ‘What now? What the hell do we do now?’
‘Well, you know my advice,’ Denaos offered.
‘No, what do you-’
He looked up and saw the empty space behind him.
‘Right.’
His ears twitched, hearing the sailors behind him take a collective step backwards as the Linkmaster loomed up before them, drawing level with the Riptide. As the first hooks were thrown, the first war cries bellowed, Lenk’s focus was on Rashodd. The great iron hulk’s helmet angled down upon him, over the bone-white arms that grasped the railing to pull up slender, hairless bodies.
‘Gentlemen,’ the hulking pirate boomed, ‘good day.’
Four
‘Useless?’
The rip of bandages being yanked from their roll echoed in the confines of the ship’s mess, just as Asper’s snarl did, sticking in the timbers like knives. The man struggled, but she didn’t pay him any mind. She kept pulling the bandages tight about his charred face, growling.
‘Sermons, indeed.’ She tied the bandage off with a jerk. ‘The stupid little savages could all use one, coupled with a few swift blows to the head.’ Her hands trembled as she pulled another roll from her bag. ‘Swift blows to the head with a dull, rusty piece of iron. .’ She ripped the cloth free, wrapping another layer about the man’s face. ‘With spikes. A few to the groin wouldn’t hurt, either. . well, it wouldn’t hurt Kat, anyway.’