by T B Phillips
“Captain, we have company!” Krill pointed toward five galleons breaking off and steaming fast toward the Cove’s flagship.
Braen reached out to feel for the Krakens but they had left his side, fleeing his control the moment his rage had subsided. In the distance, a black ship led fourteen others into position behind the main force. The newcomers fired into them, providing the cover needed for the rest of The Cove’s ships who opened full broadsides. The battle on the horizon raged as Braston and his crew stared at Sebastian.
The captain knelt before the boy and gently grabbed his shoulders. “Son hear me. They are stealing our wind and if you can’t get it back, we’ll be like Suzette. Do you understand that?” The Dreamer nodded. “Then I need you to catch us up to the others.”
Sebastian regained his footing and walked to the rail. There he committed the contents of his stomach into the sea before turning to face the crew. His eyes rolled back into his head and he fainted onto the deck.
Braen scrambled into action, shouting orders and taking the helm in his hands. Adrenaline surged as he gripped the wood of the giant wheel, reaching out to the water lapping against the bulkhead. The entire ship groaned as he turned the rudder to starboard, catching the current that he created around Malfeasance. The ship turned very slowly, too large to adapt quickly to the change in heading.
Braen felt panic rising but focused on the water, trying to aim the ship into a position of attack. I can’t die here, he thought, I’ve got too much to finish. On the horizon he saw She Wolf and the others exchanging fire with the few remaining ships. At least Eusari will succeed after I’m gone.
The five ships raced toward him in a line that would allow them five broadsides to his one. There was no way that he could take down even a single vessel. I love her. I never thought I’d love another besides Hester, but I do. If only she would have forgiven me so that I could tell her to her face before dying.
Braen returned from his melancholy just long enough to notice that the sea around him had calmed considerably. When the battle had begun, the waves were cresting between three to five feet, but now the ocean was smooth as glass around the ship. He reached a second time, feeling for the water a thousand yards out. He felt the warmth of the spring sun in the upper layer and began to draw upon that portion, heating the ocean above the cooler waters of the abyss.
He thought about Marcus Esterling and how easily his rogue general had cut down the boy’s mother. Anger brought his mind back to Artema Horn and how he had tricked Eusari into delivering Braen to Skander. She handed him to the very man who had stolen both her virtue and childhood in a single horrendous act. He is full of confusion not evil, and I could never hate my brother. But somehow, in that moment, Braen envisioned how he had harmed Eusari and found a way.
The crew of Malfeasance stood frozen on deck, staring out at the storm brewing overhead. They snapped to attention when their captain roared at the sky. His guttural voice vibrated in their chests when he shouted, “Batten down everything that’s loose! Tie yourselves off and get that boy below decks!”
One of the boatswain mates grabbed Sebastian and scurried below while Krill ordered about the crew and pointed at the incoming vessels. “The Cap’n aims to blow the men down, you blimey bastards!” He grabbed a line and lashed his body to a gunport. “Grab your hempen halter and tie off or you’ll feed the fishes!”
The bearded captain let out another howl that ended with a thunderclap. The darkened skies swirled and swelled as rain punished the sea. Just as the enemy ships reached the edge of the storm, the winds raged out Braen’s fury and spun tightly around the pirate vessel, forming an eyewall hundreds of yards across. The northerner took control of every molecule of water from the sea to the clouds of the storm, battering the enemy with a violent savagery that tore them apart.
One of them, a four masted galleon, managed to reach the calm waters of the eye and issued their challenge. They came around swiftly and fired a deafening broadside that ripped into Malfeasance, testing her armor. Thankfully the masts stood tall and the hull defiantly remained intact. The marvel of engineering fared much better than the crew, many of whom cried out with agonizing screams as shrapnel ripped at flesh.
Braen looked around the decks. Most crewmen had tied off at his order, but several lay scattered among the splintered planking. Once again, anger darkened his heart as he watched blood wash over the newly stained boards, permanently scarring his flagship and marking her a true warrior. One man in particular caught his eye. Krill lay moaning among the guns with his painted eyepatch staring at the heavens. His mangled and bloody hands were still caught in the rigging, and an ear appeared to have been sheared off. Rage erupted from Braston’s chest at the sight of his friend, once again injured in his service. His face contorted as he bellowed at the water, screaming for it to obey.
With port guns still loading, the enemy vessel tried to come about, but the fierce northern warrior had given in to his anger, as berserk as the rampaging warriors of his homeland. Instead the enemy galleon spun counterclockwise with the water churning beneath and pushing hard against her hull. Using the ocean as his weapon, Braen turned the attacker’s guns toward the sky, causing the Imperial crew to roll and slide until the heavy cannons crushed them against their starboard rail.
Both ships filled the eye of the storm with wails of misery and pain, but the devil aboard Malfeasance could not hear the cries. He was one with the water and could only hear the creaking sound of the vessel as he slowly rolled her completely over, leaving her keel to dry in the sun. One by one sailors and soldiers pierced the foamy surface, gasping for life. A gentle hand touched Braen’s arm but he could not feel it for his rage. “It’s over, Bruh… Braen,” Sippen stuttered, “luh… let’s fuh… fish them out.”
Ignoring his friend, the Kraken King leaned against the railing and screamed at the terrified men in the water, “The ocean belongs to me!” After a glance at Krill trying to untangle himself from the lines, he added as froth spewed from his mouth, “There shall be no quarter!”
One of the men abruptly disappeared beneath the waves. The swimmers frantically turned and tried to climb the overturned vessel, but the barnacles were razors that shredded their calloused hands and put more blood into the water. Another man shot downward as if pulled, and the sailors further from the ship began to clamor over those against the hull.
Braen laughed at the sight and bellowed a final, sickening curse, “There’s no escape, and the penalty of bringing harm against my crew is death!” The sharks leapt from the water with their massive white teeth bared, snatching their prey from the surface as they sunned before quickly diving below to feast. The water around the overturned galleon turned pink as red mixed with the white foam of their frenzy. Every man aboard Malfeasance stared in silence while their captain licked his lips at the sight. Only Sippen wept.
Having finished the battle that Braen had mostly won, Eusari steered She Wolf through a sea of debris. Most of the ships they had faced had been decimated, although Sippen’s team of engineers would no doubt rebuild a formidable fleet from the usable wreckage. She had already dispatched a salvage team to gather the most seaworthy, and these would follow her and Braston’s engineer back to The Cove.
Though it dissipated quickly, she noted a faint cloud of blood in the water around the enemy ships encircling Malfeasance. The flagship softly rocked in the strangely still ocean, drifting like a ghost in the desultory current without correction or heading. The chilling quiet was the only remnant of the battle that raged inside the storm that Braen no doubt conjured during the fight. Thinking about the storm raging inside the man sent shudders through her spine.
She had been watching the northerner carefully since they had met, and she now realized that the younger Braston was actually two men. Most of the time, he was the quiet and endearing Braen, eager to please and to calm the world around him. This man was charming and loving o
f everyone while constantly forgiving and ready to move on with amiability, even if with his brother who has hurt him and others the most.
The other man more closely resembled that very brother, full of anger and rage. In a moment he would turn dark and become the devil who had killed her father. When the demon took him, Braen would lose sight of the world around him and focus instead on the brutality of his destruction. He was impossible to stop when he went berserk, seemingly able to tear the world apart with his bare hands and teeth if it stood in his way.
As she pulled alongside, Eusari laid eyes on a gruesome sight and knew instantly that the Devil of Fjorik had returned. The deck boards of the shiny new vessel had already darkened from the blood of the battle. Everyone topside wore bandages that, despite their fresh application, were in much need of change. Even Krill’s hands and head were tightly bound. He sat on a coil of rope with a needle and thread, frowning down at a project he was intent to finish. It was probably another absurdity by the man she considered to be of questionable sanity.
She spied Sippen standing over Braen. He held out a rag, but the captain refused to take it. The reason the engineer offered it was clear, his friend’s beard and chest were saturated with blood that could have possibly been his own. She called out to the little man, causing both to look up, “Sippen!”
“Yuh… Eusari!”
“Let’s get going. I want to get these ships towed back immediately.” She glanced down at her blood-stained lover, a horrible sight to be seen. Lover. But is he really? What are we, he and I?
“Eusari.” Braen’s voice was still low and gravely, no doubt hoarse from screaming like an animal. “Can we talk?”
“Not now.” She looked around, “This isn’t the time or place.” Her eyes rested on his bloody beard she added, “Nor are you the correct Braen.”
She turned on her heel and led Sippen to She Wolf.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Robert stared at the army amassed outside his walls. In all his life, he had never seen such a tremendous force poised for an attack in one place. This was more along the lines of the army that Maximus and Merrimac had led against Krist Braston and the Pescari before his birth. Blazing bright campfires dotted the landscape in perfect rows, stretching vastly into the horizon.
General Reeves stood next to Robert, sharing in the awe of the moment. “And thus, begins the siege, My Liege.”
“I’ve never seen one. How long do we have until they attack?”
“Months. Maybe even a year. Our army is small, and this city is wealthy. With rationing we can hold out at least through the summer.”
“We don’t have to, Max.” Robert turned to face his mentor who he now knew as his true father. Staring into his eyes felt almost as if he looked into a mirror of the future. “I contacted Braston and he’s on his way to pull us out.”
“That was wise, Robert. Why did you change your mind?”
“Something troubling that Marita said to me. If Pirate’s Cove has both a fleet and an army, much less a contingent of emotants, then we’ll need to forge an alliance with them.”
“With power like, that he may not stop with Fjorik. Doesn’t that ambition still worry you?”
“Yes, it does, and that means that I’ll have to betray him first. But in the meantime, he provides an opportunity to fight Marcus now, instead of waiting for him to slowly kill me.”
A gruff voice from behind caused both men to turn around. “Your brother isn’t going to kill you slowly, and he most certainly isn’t planning a siege.” Mac pointed to the army outside the walls. “Look again, closer.”
Robert did. He strained his eyes at the glow of the fires and scanned the rows. “They aren’t pitching tents.”
Max added, “And their artillery is behind the auxiliary lines.”
Lourdes grunted approval at their observations. “They’ll attack us soon. Thank the gods you got word to Braston. I was coming up here to tell you that he’s arrived. He has twenty-five ships mooring in the harbor as we speak.”
Robert pointed at the army. The woman Falconer must have told them our plans. They will attack tonight before we can evacuate. “I think it will be tonight?”
The old Major General shook his head in agreement. “I expect them to attack as soon as they can punch a hole in the wall. It will take hours of bombardment to knock down these walls. They’re twenty feet thick. No, they can’t do that in one night.”
“Get the citizens to safety and the soldiers to the dock. I want to pull everyone out before sunrise.”
Max responded, “I’ll get word to Titus to make it happen.” He offered his son a crisp salute and then ran down the stairway to spread the alarm.
“Max!” His mentor paused. “Get Sarai aboard Braston’s ship.”
“And the prisoners?”
Robert nodded. “Bring them in chains. I pledged to give them over but they’re still my captives.”
Reeves frowned deeply. “That may spark a contest between you.”
“No. I made a deal. Take Captain Dominique into chains as well, in the name of The Cove.”
Max gave another salute and hurried down the stairs, calling officers to him and dispatching them with the orders. Robert watched his father, wondering how the man had changed so easily from his mentor to his most loyal general.
“He loves you deeply.” General Lourde’s voice changed in the night, sounding less battle hardened and more grandfatherly.
“That’s something I’ve known my entire life.” His eyes met a kindly stare from the older man. “Why did you help me kill the Falconers during the battle, Mac?”
Lourdes looked at the young king with curiosity. “Four months ago, I would have doubted that powers such as yours existed outside of the Falconers.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know what to think.” Max sighed. “I’m an old man still playing soldier and getting involved in affairs that I’ve really got no business aiding. But I’m a weapon of sorts, one that you polish, oil, then set in an armory until it’s time to use it.”“And then?”
“And then I kill rather effectively. I’m good at one thing, Robert. I’m skilled at choking out the enemy and killing them on an open battlefield.” The greyed general let out a long sigh. “But even that’s changed. With powers like yours free in the world I’m a relic of the past. I can’t create strategy for your coming war. All I can do is help spot trends to help you stay out of traps.”
“I think you’re wrong, General. You’ve served both my fathers over the years, and you’ve always stayed on top of changing times.” Robert looked thoughtful. “Didn’t you perfect the use of artillery against the Pescari?”
“I did. But I’m an old dog playing new tricks when it comes to magic.” Movement attracted their eyes back to the wagons. Mac pointed. “What do you think’s in those, Your Highness?”
“I think that we’ll find out tonight, but I am assuming it’s full of Falconers ready to trap me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” The boy nodded, remembering the horde in the dream world. “I think they’re hiding more feathered freaks.”
“Can they lash you from here?”
“Only if they know my precise location. Usually a binding requires line of sight. I think I’m okay from this distance on such a large wall.”
“Want to test that theory?”
“Actually, I do.”
“Shake the tree, son. See what falls.”
Robert closed his eyes and focused the air surrounding him. He drew it into a gale that he sent down the wall and across the line of soldiers, knocking over entire squads. The canvas atop the wagons ripped from the buckboards and lifted into the sky as the Falconers threw up shields in defense.
“Who in the god’s names are they?”
Robert opened his eyes and stared down at the
humans and the animals in the wagons. The giant cats were ferociously strong and sleek, able to run down a soldier laden with armor. The people were nearly naked, clad only with animal skins that matched the beasts laying peacefully among them. The hoods on their heads were identical to the faces of their cats. One by one they crawled from the wagons and moved into position beside the Falconers. Robert counted five of each to every wagon.
The fifty cats sat on their haunches and the fifty people sat on the ground with legs crossed, dark skin glowing eerily in the firelight. They began to sway and dance with their arms in the air as if choreographed. They hummed as they undulated, adding to the curiosity of their ministrations. In unison, they placed their hands on the ground and the ground began to shake to their rhythm.
Robert turned to the old general with a look of concern. “I think we should run. Get everyone off the walls.”
“Go!” Merrimac Lourdes shouted at the boy king, pushing him toward the stairs.
As Robert sprinted away, he looked over his shoulder to see the old man waving his arms at the archers. They stared back with confusion. The shaking intensified beneath the wall and the king stumbled several times before he was safely away from the crumbling structure. Looking up, he watched in horror as the stones disappeared beneath Merrimac Lourdes, causing him to lose his footing. Arms flailed as the general fell from the height along with several dozen bowmen, heavy granite falling like rain atop their lifeless bodies on the ground.
Horns sounded from the direction of the attacking army, shaking Robert from his moment of frozen horror. Cannons roared outside and soon pounded against the walls, severely weakened by the quake. Shards of rock exploded inward as the artillery beat against the crumbling stone. A large section collapsed in a cascade of debris which kicked up a dust cloud that climbed fifty feet into the air. He sprinted toward the docks.
Just as promised, he found twenty-five ships berthed in the harbor. One of the vessels stood out among the rest, glowing in the torchlight that reflected metal plating. A black flag with the image of a giant squid flew atop the main mast and Robert sprinted toward it. He could see that Maximus was already organizing the loading of troops onto the boats and fear fueled his sprint to his father.
