The young man attacked the second, but seemed to make no progress. “Friggin’ thing…wound with wire…”
Kharl’s eyes darted across the upper deck, taking in the four grapples still wedged in place. While he couldn’t see more, he had no doubts that the same tactics were being employed against the main and forward decks. The seaman managed to part the line on two more grapples, but, by that time, another three had been wedged in place.
Kharl edged forward, because he could hear voices, scuffling, and muttered curses…
“…get your friggin’ ass up…”
“…sows carry less lard ’n you…”
The cooper saw a brawny arm reach over the railing. He lunged forward and slammed the staff down on the arm, feeling the bones break, and seeing the pirate tumble backward off the rope and into the water just aft of where the two hulls rubbed against each other.
He brought the staff around in a sweep. One pirate ducked, but the lorken staff caught a second in the neck, and he sagged, then slid out of sight, while Kharl reversed the staff. His return was weak, and the one pirate was over the railing, cutlass slashing toward the cooper, and parrying the staff.
Kharl two-handed the staff, using both ends. The wood, almost as hard as iron, and springier, fended off the cuts from the pirate, who tried to circle away from Kharl, and found himself between a sailor with a spear and the cooper. In the pirate’s moment of indecision, Kharl struck with an underthrust, and the cutlass spun out of the pirate’s hand. The other sailor plunged the spear into the pirate’s belly.
Kharl turned back to the port railing, where two more pirates had appeared, one with the ubiquitous cutlass, and a taller man with a hand-and-a-half blade. Kharl took on the taller man, and found himself backing up against a man with far better blade skills than Kharl had staff capabilities.
Thwunk! The huge pirate looked stunned at the quarrel in his left shoulder.
Kharl took the moment and knocked the big blade from his hand and attacked with all his strength. Even badly wounded, the pirate weathered two blows that would have felled a lesser man and ducked away from several that could have stopped him.
Kharl managed another strike, then a solid thrust into the man’s guts. The pirate tumbled forward, and Kharl saw the blood from a deep cut across his back.
Two more pirates appeared from somewhere, and Kharl and another sailor found themselves slowly pushing the pair forward, toward the edge of the poop deck. One looked back, and took a spear. The other grabbed the railing and vaulted down.
Kharl stood for a moment, gasping, glancing around the poop deck, but it was empty, except for Kharl, the captain, the helmsman, and two other sailors from the Seastag. Below, the main deck swirled with fighters. The defenders were being pressed from both sides, although they did not seem that greatly outnumbered, and some pirates had fallen, but the attackers fought without much thought of caution, it seemed to Kharl, and kept pressing the Seastag’s defenders inward.
The cooper glanced down at the pirate vessel to port. Only two men stood on the low rear deck, beside the steersman. All three were watching the main deck of the Seastag.
Abruptly, staff in one hand, Kharl swung himself over the railing and clambered down one of the ropes left hanging by the pirates. When he was just slightly higher than the aft deck of the pirate vessel, he twisted his body and jumped. Even as close as the two vessels were, he barely cleared the railing and landed heavily on the deck.
The two pirates remaining were surprised enough that Kharl had a chance to get the staff into position before the first charged.
Kharl parried the slash by the pirate, and the cutlass clanked against the black iron band. The blade shattered, and Kharl reversed the staff into a wicked riposte into the man’s guts, then, as the pirate staggered, finished him off with a blow to the side of his head.
The cooper barely managed to get the staff back and balanced in time to ward off the attack of the second helm guard, who was using two shortswords, one in each hand.
Kharl let the other attack, using a balanced two-handed grip on the longer staff to block or deflect the other’s slashing attacks, giving a little space, and watching.
Then, after the pirate made a particularly vicious cut that left him slightly unbalanced, Kharl slammed the staff into the other’s knee with enough force that something crunched, and the pirate sprawled sideways on the deck. Kharl brained him, then turned to the helmsman.
The helmsman released the helm and grabbed for the cutlass at his belt. His hand closed on the hilt just as one of the iron bands of Kharl’s staff crashed into his temple.
As Kharl surveyed the deck, he could see that there was no one near him, and forward on the pirate ship, no one had even looked aft. With a cold smile Kharl strode forward, toward the handful of pirates, along the railing, clearly wanting to board the Seastag.
The first two went down, one right after the other, without anyone noticing.
The third turned. “They’re behind us!” He got his blade, more of a rapier than a cutlass, up and into a rough guard position. Kharl slammed the blade aside and brought the staff up from below, doubling the man over, and finishing him off with a reverse.
Then…there were pirates all around Kharl, and the most he could do was try to weave a defense.
He stepped back, still creating a blur of blackness, when a taller man, taller even than Kharl, lunged forward with a huge broadsword. Because of the force of the cut-that missed-the big man was off-balance for a moment, and Kharl struck.
A shocked expression froze on the pirate’s face, and he brought the broadsword around in a last desperate swinging lunge.
Kharl managed to get the strength from somewhere to parry, but he slipped on a deck wet with blood and salt, and the flat side of the blade crashed into his chest, then slammed down into his foot. With a last effort, Kharl brought up the end of the staff straight into the pirate’s throat. Kharl could feel something give, and some of the pressure on his leg abate. He tried to lever the staff upward, but it was caught under the body of the fallen pirate.
Then something struck him from behind, and wave of red blackness crashed over him.
LI
A reddish dark haze swam around Kharl, and much as he attempted to grope his way through it, it merely thickened. When he tried to rest, it seemed to constrict around him, like an iron band across his chest and ribs, with an agonizing pain so sharp that he felt he could hardly breathe. He wanted to move, but neither his arms nor his legs would budge, and his head was a mass of flame.
In time-how long it had been, he had no idea-the haze thinned, and an image swam into his view, except that it was a pair of images. Kharl squinted, and the two images resolved into one, that of a single face, one he thought he should recognize, but did not.
“You’ll be all right, cooper. You’re acting like you’re still fighting. You don’t have to keep fighting. Try to loosen those muscles.”
“Pirates…?” Kharl mumbled, his mouth so dry that the single word was a croak.
“You need to drink. Open your mouth.”
Kharl did. The coolness was welcome. His tongue was swollen, and swallowing was difficult.
“Pirates?” he asked again.
“Most of ’em are dead. We brought in their ships. Not bad prizes. Worrak isn’t prime, but the captain figures that, even after replacing the engine, be a goodly prize share for everyone. That’s for you, too.”
Kharl didn’t care about that. He just knew his leg hurt, especially his foot-and his chest.
“Hurts…a bit…”
“Your ribs are cracked…bruised, and there’s that right foot. It’s going to hurt for a while, but you’ll walk fine. Your boots won’t be so cramped on that side. That last pirate blade took the two smallest toes, but…wound came up clean. Healing good. Worried about you. Been a couple of days now.”