without waking the entire crew seemed like a task for a real hero.
Ellis Rois, however, was no hero and wasn't going to become one, especially posthumously.
Let's see: lifting the boat alone was impossible; he would need a partner. Having a partner meant either sharing the spoils or killing two people instead of just Lilian. There was also the matter of a sentry, of random sailors who might, for some reason, come on deck in the middle of the night, becoming witnesses...
Remorse? What are you talking about? Ellis had long since knocked its teeth out. His remorse was quiet and obedient. He just didn't want to risk too much.
One mistake, and the crew would sound an alarm. Ellis had no chance against the whole ship. Even if he found a partner, that just wasn't an option.
Maybe he could just poison everyone onboard? Alas, he hadn't prepared a bag of poison in advance. What else could they do? Swim to the shore? Jump overboard and plow the waves?
No, Ellis wouldn't do that in a lifetime.
He might have made it alone, though. But what would happen next? What would he do alone in the woods without even his boots, not to mention other essential items? Would he travel barefooted until he reached civilization?
There was also the countess, who, for all her strong points, was only a woman.
She'd never swim to the shore, even if... Ellis entertained dropping a barrel overboard. If it was empty, it should stay afloat. He could tie a rope to it and pull it landward. Two barrels, a few planks...it might work. Still, the countess would never do it. That wasn't even a question.
So what did that leave? What would he do?
Ellis didn't see a solution yet, despite his promises to the countess.
There was also an idea to spoil the water in the barrels to force the crew to reach land or send a team to find a place with fresh water.
However, Ellis wasn't sure that he could do that without getting caught. And if he did...
Well, that was simple. He would be hanged on the yard-arm, the mast, or any other pole.
That wasn't something Ellis wanted to happen, although he was willing to risk it. But then, destiny intervened.
***
Viriom was the domain of Virmans. The islanders had mastered the ocean like the back of their hand, knowing all of its tides, shoals, and currents and traveling it all year round. For them, Viriom was life.
The Green Ocean, however, was the home of the merry men of Loris: pirates.
Ivernea, Avester, the Khanganat—all of them meant top booty. Some people whispered that Loris boasted the patronage of Avester, but those were just rumors, nasty and false.
Pirates were a dime a dozen in the Green Ocean, and so, it wasn't long before their eyes fell on the Prancing Mermaid.
On the third day after sailing past the shores of Ivernea, a pirate sloop started following in its tracks: a small, three-mast ship that steadily closed in on the Mermaid.
A commotion broke out aboard. Tony ran to the captain.
"What's going on?"
"Pirates," the captain replied curtly. "We'll fight."
"We cannot fight!" Anthony flared up. "We have a noblewoman aboard!"
"You don't want to know what the pirates can do to her," the captain snapped.
Tony was lost.
On the one hand, he had Lilian Earton and needed to get her to Avester. Maybe he could try talking to the bandits, pay them for an escort...
On the other, what would they do upon learning about the countess? And really, what kind of negotiations could there be with pirates?
They were backstabbing predators! They'd never be content with a part if they could get the whole thing.
"I'll warn the countess and will fight," Tony nodded.
The captain nodded in turn, and the baron rushed to Her Grace's cabin that he had been avoiding for the last few days.
Lily was already waiting.
She could hear the chaos onboard even from behind the locked door, so Anthony's appearance in the doorway didn't exactly surprise her.
"Pirates, Your Grace."
"Great. Now we have pirates. Is this your competition, Baron?"
Anthony decided to ignore her jab.
"We'll make our stand. I'll leave your door open, just in case. If we lose, you can decide for yourself what to do."
Decide between killing myself and lying with a pirate—what a great choice.
Lily almost spat but restrained herself. She was a countess, was she not?
"What a multitude of options."
"Don't mock me, Countess. We'll try our best to win, but nobody knows the will of Aldonai."
That was true.
"Leave me a weapon," Lily said.
"A weapon?"
"Baron, do you think I want these brutes to capture me alive?" Her Grace flared up.
Anthony felt like an idiot.
"Forgive me, Your Grace. I hope you won't need this."
A heavy and quite expensive dagger fell into Lilian's hand.
She winced. She didn't like such blades. It was too long and too heavy for her, and the quality was mediocre, too. The decorations, however, were nice: a gold inlay, an engraving, a large sapphire pommel...
Her blades were much plainer: short, razor-sharp, handles wrapped in sharkskin. Not much to look at, they nonetheless could cleave a hair in half, and their balance...
"Do you want to give me my knife back?"
"I don't," Tony snapped and left the room.
Lily sighed and started to change.
She wasn't going to kill herself, of course. There was no need to hurry with that. She could barter, try putting a price on herself, and even if they tried to rape her, there was still a chance to escape. Pirates were vile and detestable knaves, but even they had a leader. She could always feign wanting to become his mistress and play it by ear.
Anthony Lofrayne had given her a weapon and didn't lock the cabin. She was going to use that for all it was worth. While there was fighting on the deck, nobody would come to her, and she...
She needed another weapon, badly. It was clear that she wouldn't get her dagger back. Lofrayne probably had it in his room, and when that bastard learned that it was missing, he'd immediately realize her plans. Still, Lily could try finding a few knives of lesser quality—in the crew quarters, in the galley, anywhere. Time was of the essence.
And so, Lily started to wait.
Her baggy pants didn't restrict movement, and neither did her shirt and her vest. If the worst happened, her riding suit wouldn't help, anyway, maybe even impede her.
When the fight broke out, Her Grace would leave the cabin and sneak into a few rooms, looting them like a common thief. Let them worry later about who stole what.
She didn't think about offering her help to the doctorus. Demonstrating her skills was the last thing she needed, really. She'd rather wait until the battle was over.
In any case, Lily had no incentive to help her enemies, damn the Hippocratic Oath. The fewer enemies she had, the more chances for victory!
***
The sloop was rapidly gaining on the Mermaid. The sailors could already make out the name of the pirate vessel—the Windcatcher—and a scarlet banner signifying a coming battle.
The captain had the choice of raising their own scarlet flag or...
But he chose the former. The coyotes wouldn't get their prey, not on that day.
The Windcatcher started coming in upwind, trying to deprive the other ship of a tailwind.
"Whoosh!"
A giant quarrel sang true and clear. Apparently, the vessel had large arbalests onboard, but what about the Virman Fire?
Or maybe they had no way of throwing it that far?
Tony waited together with everyone. As soon as the captain yelled the order, he felt an impact—that was the catapult shooting a projectile at the pirate ship. It went right past it.
Tony bit his lip.
It all looked simple: the ships came close and fired at each other
as much as they could. After that, their enemies would throw grappling hooks, and the melee would start, cruel and merciless.
So, who would win?
It all depended on Aldonai's favor. In any case, Anthony was going to sell his life for the highest price.
More and more missiles and quarrels came in, soon joined by crossbow bolts.
The captain kept shouting the orders, half of which Anthony simply couldn't understand.
The ships maneuvered.
"What are they doing?" Tony yelled, poking a sailor who was loading a crossbow right next to him, hiding behind the bulwark.
His response was full of complex nautical terms, but Anthony got the gist.
The ships were trying to seize an opportunity.
The Catcher was smaller and more mobile, while the Mermaid, larger and heavier. The pirates were trying to shut their enemy from the wind and wait for the moment to ride a wave and attack them from above.
The captain of the Mermaid was doing his best to prevent that, and thus, they kept dodging and trying to shoot the Catcher.
The more pirates they would shoot before boarding, the less they would have to kill later.
Anthony nodded and started closely watching the maneuvers.
Honestly, the Catcher was much better at executing them. Soon, it moved behind the stern, and the Mermaid's sails sagged. The Mermaid's captain barked an order, and the ship jerked forward, but it was too late.
The Catcher finally seized the moment.
The sailors fired, then again, but the pirates were almost upon them.
Grappling hooks flew in, banging against the broadside. One landed just next to Anthony, and he hacked at it without even thinking.
The rope sagged, but it didn't matter, as pirates were already pouring aboard after discharging their crossbows one last time.
They jumped through the bulwarks, falling on the deck as if from the sky itself.
Tony immediately engaged two bandits.
That battle had nothing to do with a noble duel; it was a frenzied melee where you could get a hit from anywhere around you.
Someone covered Anthony from the back as he kept parrying blows and giving out his own, using sword and dagger at once.
All he could do was to hope that they would make it. He really didn't want to die that day.
***
Lily managed to perfectly predict the moment when the ships came together.
The floor shook, and as she heard the clatter of battle, she pushed the door and left her cabin, lowering the latch.
She held the dagger in her hand and knew for a fact that if she had to, she'd cut down everyone in her path without a flinch, whether friend or foe. That said, she didn't have any friends there.
So, where were the captain's quarters?
Soon enough, she found them and quickly went inside, dauntless, only opening the door wide and propping it with a chair so she couldn't be locked inside.
What did she want?
Money. Just a little bit, at least. She had been taken without a single coin; she'd rather escape with full pockets. Something small but expensive, easy to carry and easy to sell. Trinkets would do, definitely.
Weapons? Yes, weapons were of prime importance—weapons of any kind.
Lily rummaged through the desk drawers, quick and resolute. She didn't take the entire purse—only a few gold coins and some pocket change. Later, she was going to hide it in the most reliable safe a lady could have.
Back to weaponry. Taking the pieces from the walls was pointless, and they were all third-rate at best, anyway. Lily never considered adornment to be a weapon's best asset. A weapon must be plain and functional. The blade should be perfect, and the handle... It's not like it was used to fight most of the time. That was a waste of money aimed at idiots who cared about gloss and trappings.
Lily continued searching the cabin, and her efforts paid off. At least, she found a suitable knife small enough to hide in a sleeve. She immediately put it in her belt, sheathed as it was, and left the room.
The only thing left to do was to wait for the winning side to be determined—and hide the loot, of course.
Lily did it by opening a tiny window in her cabin and sticking the found knife into the ship's wooden hull.
It wasn't perfect, but who'd ever look there? It had to work.
She hid the money inside the turn-ups on her pants. Due to their clumsy design, she had been forced to roll the pant legs up, creating turn-ups. That's where Lily put the coins, immediately stitching them up with a needle and thread.
The ongoing battle didn't matter. She wasn't going to fight, but she had to take care of herself. She needed those coins. That night, she would sew them up even better so they'd never make a sound.
For once, Countess Earton saw a glimpse of hope in her future. This victory, even if small, gave her wings.
She wasn't unarmed anymore. She also had the funds to make ends meet at least for some time.
What else did she need? To escape.
But that was still to come.
***
The pirates were attacking. With practiced ease, they moved across the shrouds, jumping like monkeys and trying to fall on the enemy from above. But the sailors were no fools, either. They held out their swords, making their opponents land on the bare blades, and kept firing their crossbows, fighting for their life and wanting to go out with a bang.
Tony fought in the first ranks.
Why would he do that? Valor? Courage? Nobility? Ah, to Maldonaya with them!
Armed with a dagger and a sword, Tony could never be called an expert warrior, but his father's swordcraft lessons hadn't been for naught.
Move the sword away, stab with the dagger, see an opening in another enemy's defense, stick the blade into his vulnerable side...and then, the first opponent would fall as well, killed by another sailor right when he was distracted by Anthony.
That wasn't a noble duel; that was cleaning up rabble and filth that deserved no better. A kick in the balls, a pinch of dust in the eyes—everything was allowed in a fight like that.
The opponent got down on one knee due to a leg wound, and Anthony finished him off with a dagger, then parried the blow aimed right at his head and heard a scream as a pirate's body came crashing down from above. The man had planned to jump down from the shrouds in the midst of a fight but miscalculated. Someone's bolt hit his throat dead-on.
Push down the opponent's blade, then stab. Dodge the blow, then stab.
The enemy sword scratched Tony's cheek. It wasn't dangerous, but it bled a lot. That bastard was going to pay with his life for the baron's ruined face, but thinking about his looks had to wait.
A blow, then another...
"Onward, you scum!"
Who was screaming? It didn't matter.
Both groups charged ahead, pirates and Avesterians alike. They growled in a mad frenzy, all but ready to sink their teeth into each other, rambling something, and suddenly, Tony saw a well-dressed man in his forties with a nice sword appear right in front of him.
A stab, then a slash... He parried like a noble, a man taught to fence from childhood.
Tony felt excited.
Blows rained down from both sides, and the battled broke up into a score of individual duels. Tony stood in the very center but never noticed, busy pushing his opponent's blade away from his throat, parrying, falling on one knee and thrusting his sword forward. In his final effort, the adversary pushed his hand away and sunk on the floor, the baron's dagger stuck in his throat.
For some reason, his death stripped the pirates of their morale. Some of them dropped their weapons; some jumped overboard... Apparently, the man killed by Lofrayne was their captain.
***
At first, Tony didn't realize that they won.
Still, the pirates were finished, the remaining few huddled against the main mast.
He breathed out in relief. They got lucky!
Aldonai, thank you. I'll light you the
biggest candle in the first city we come across.
But how was Countess Earton faring? Was she alive and unharmed? Tony hurried downstairs.
Lily was sitting in the cabin playing with the dagger he had given her.
"We won!"
Riding the wave of happiness, Tony burst into the cabin, grabbed the countess, and gave her a firm kiss.
He shouldn't have. The sharp tip of her dagger rested right against his throat.
"Why shouldn't I kill you for this impudence?" Lily asked him in an icy tone.
Anthony unclasped his hands.
The dagger fell on the floor with a clatter.
"Don't you dare touch me, Baron. I'm afraid to lose control."
Tony turned pale in anger but still picked the dagger up.
"You'd tell the pirates the same thing, Countess?"
"I don't see how one group of lowlifes is different from another," Lily snapped.
"I’m not going to rape you, for one."
Lily winced.
"Abduct me, take me away from my family, probably doom me to a life of slavery or death... What a delightful prospect!"
Anthony turned on his heels and left, slamming the door shut.
Lily spat in his wake. She had noticed a cut on the baron's face. It looked pretty bad and required stitching, but...
Fat chance! Let the local quack patch it, like a horse in a slaughterhouse! She wasn't going to offer her help to the wounded—no need to heal her enemies.
Forgive me, Uncle Hippocrates. I guess I haven't embraced your vow deep enough, or maybe these Middle Ages made me a real animal.
But what could she do? Help the people who were bringing her to jail? Treat those who had condemned her to a fate barely better than death?
One could admire crocodiles and adore their teeth and skin, but not when they were trying to eat you, and one definitely shouldn't attend to their teeth if she wasn't a vet.
Lily didn't consider herself a vet.
Damn them all. Let them figure it out themselves.
A New World Page 31
