Chaos Raging (The Five Kingdoms Book 11)

by Toby Neighbors

  He went back and laid down beside Brianna. The dragons came too, curling up just outside the ring of snow that Zollin had melted. The huge beasts didn’t mind the cold, and with the dragons at the camp Zollin felt he could rest. The dragons could hear better than he could. They could even smell an enemy approaching. But most of all, Zollin felt that there were no enemies close enough to worry about.

  Laying down, he felt a relief in his body as his muscles began to relax. He was warm, Brianna was safe, and everything felt right. But at the back of his mind the storm of fear was still building. Brianna had seemed relieved to see him, but was that just because he had rescued her? Would she want to stay with him or would she leave again? Those fears wormed their way through his mind and haunted his sleep. There would be no rest until he knew if Brianna was still his.

  Chapter 14

  Mansel was in an open area of the pirate ship, with waist-high rails on either side of him. Behind him the rails angled in toward the prow of the ship. In front of him, nearly three dozen men were rushing forward, with their own weapons raised. Some had cutlasses, others carried hatchets, large knives, and clubs. The young warrior was completely outnumbered, but he didn’t seem to care. He flung himself at the fastest pirates who were rushing toward him. With one massive slash he brought three of them to the deck. Another pirate jumped over his fallen companions only to be run through with Mansel’s long sword.

  Jerking the blade free, Mansel slashed to his left, bringing the sword up and then down in a graceful arc that hammered the blade into a pirate’s shoulder. Then he lunged back to his right, battering away a cutlass that was raised to deflect his blade, before the tip of Death’s Eye raked across the pirate’s face. Then, with the wounded bellowing in agony, and Mansel’s sword dripping with blood, the gang of pirates fell back as if they had been given a command. Mansel knew it was the shock of death all around them that made the sailors falter. They were outlaws and killers in their own right, but they were used to being the aggressors, with just the sight of them enough to make most men cower. But Mansel wasn’t cowering and he wasn’t overwhelmed, he was a deadly warrior whose prowess in battle caused the pirates to shrink back.

  From the rear of the group a large pirate pushed through. He was muscular and taller than Mansel. He didn’t wear a shirt, despite the cold, and his skin was covered with faded blue tattoo lines. His weapon was a short, double-edged sword with a wavy blade. It was finely crafted, with silver wrought into the cross guard and pommel. The pirates grew quiet, except for those wailing in agony over their death wounds. The big pirate swung his sword in a complicated pattern that ended with a thrust, accompanied by a shout from the big man. Mansel didn’t move. His goal was to buy as much time for his own crewmates to board and scuttle the pirate ship. The tension grew as both warriors tensed for the inevitable clash.

  The pirate was the first to move, jumping forward. Mansel slid to the side raising his sword to block the pirate’s curved blade, then using the man’s momentum to circle to the side. Mansel’s blade slid up past the pirate's, flicking out at the last moment and scoring a shallow cut on the big sailor’s shoulder. Blood seeped from the wound, but the big man hardly seemed to notice. He was charging in again, hoping to get Mansel close enough to slay with his short sword, or even close enough to lay a hand on the young warrior.

  Mansel was strong, but it was his sword that gave him his greatest advantage over the pirate. His blade was easily twice as long as his opponent’s. Mansel flew into a series of slashes and chops. They were basic maneuvers, the attacks he’d learned from Quinn when he first took up the sword. The pirate managed to parry every blow, but he was much slower than Mansel, and after a moment he was sweating freely. Mansel dropped his guard just enough to invite a high slash at his head. The pirate took the bait and swung his sword hard. Mansel dropped to one knee, letting the wavy blade pass harmlessly overhead. The pirate’s slash was so powerful he couldn’t help but turn from the momentum, exposing the back of his leg to Mansel, who slashed quickly, severing the big man’s hamstring.

  The pirate bellowed as he fell, but managed to hold on to his sword and swing it at Mansel. The young warrior caught the wavy blade on his own, and with a flick he slashed his weapon across the pirate’s hand. The exotic blade went flying through the air and then fell harmlessly into the ocean. The big man begged for mercy as Mansel raised his sword. He hesitated for just a moment as he saw the crew from the Arrow jumping on board the pirate ship with their torches. Then he gave a chilling war cry and drove his sword down into the big man’s stomach. The pirate bellowed as well, only his was a wail of agony that froze the blood of his companions.

  The pirates who were still working to sail their vessel saw the sailors from the Sea Arrow boarding their ship and shouted warnings to the armed pirates, but Mansel’s battle cry and the big pirate’s death scream drowned out those warning cries for a long moment. The pirates were mortified and suddenly they fled back across the deck of their ship, only to realize the enemy was among them. Swords clashed, but more often the sailors cut the pirates down without a fight. Black smoke was rising from a dozen small fires throughout the ship and Mansel called for the retreat. He stood by the railing as the sailors jumped back to the Arrow. Only three of the sailors had been killed, another six had minor wounds, but over two dozen of the pirates were dead, and even more were wounded. Those that weren’t were frantically trying to contain the fires, but they were failing. The wooden hull was slow to catch fire, but once it did it raged fiercely. The coils of rope and piles of canvas sailcloth took the flames eagerly and spread it quickly up onto the masts and spars.

  The sailors snatched up poles as soon as they got back onto their own ship and began pushing the burning pirate ship away. The crew of the burning ship had no thought of anything other than saving their vessel. The fight was completely lost in them, and Mansel dove back to the Arrow while there was still time to make the leap. Captain Chiss was shouting orders to his men, who were scampering back up the rigging to pull the sails up. Smoke was billowing out of the burning ship and the other pirate vessel was tacking hard as it tried to turn back toward the Arrow.

  “What’s happening?” Danella asked, as she rushed up to Mansel.

  The young warrior picked up a rag that had fallen to the deck and used it to wipe the blood from his blade. Then he turned to the young woman. She was beautiful, but Mansel’s heart was cold. He had slain several of the pirates and the battle lust made it hard for the young warrior to think of anything other than killing.

  “Vyctor,” Mansel snarled. “Get her out of here!”

  The big man looked worried and pulled at Danella’s arm.

  “I want to know what is happening!” she demanded.

  “We’re fighting for our lives,” Mansel said. “If that other pirate ship gets close enough, they’ll board us. The pirates will murder most of the crew and do who knows what to you.”

  “You won’t let that happen, though?” Danella said, her skin pale with worry.

  “I’d die before I let them hurt you,” he said. “But it isn’t safe, now get back down to your cabin.”

  Some of the other sailors were staring. They had all seen Danella and her hulking companion. Under normal circumstances they were more than happy to treat her with the respect she deserved, but Mansel also saw the looks on the faces of the sailors under the threat of pirates. In most cases, sailors who didn’t resist would often be allowed to live, especially if they had something of value for the pirates to steal. The cargo full of wool had value, but a beautiful young woman would be priceless to a ship full of blood-thirsty outlaws. If things got bad, Mansel had no doubt the sailors would offer Danella up to curb the pirates’ need for blood.

  The Sea Arrow was moving forward, leaving the burning ship behind, but she wasn’t up to full speed yet and the pirate ship was through with its turn. Mansel watched anxiously, worried that the ship wouldn’t charge at them. If it moved forward, the Arrow, which was mor
e maneuverable, could probably slip past, and gain much-needed distance before the pirate ship could make another turn. But if it continued to turn, using the momentum it had already built up, the two ships would be neck and neck, and it would only be a matter of time before the pirates sailed close enough to board the Arrow. Their ship was also on the landward side of the engagement, which meant there was only so far the ship could run as the other vessel cut off their escape.

  Mansel watched the pirate ship, hoping with all his might that the captain of the enemy vessel was a fool, but knowing there wasn’t much hope. The Arrow plunged ahead, getting closer and closer to the pirate ship. Mansel sheathed his sword, but kept his hand on the handle, impulsively squeezing the leather-wrapped grip. Chiss shouted his orders, the sailors ran around the ship to coax every last bit of speed they could from her, but the pirates kept turning. Mansel’s heart sank. He went up to the command deck and stood by the helmsman. Captain Chiss was there as well, his face stony.

  “You did well,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “We got lucky,” Mansel said. “They weren’t expecting us to fight back. This second crew will be ready, and they’ll be out for revenge.”

  “We’ll just have to disappoint them then,” the captain said.

  “How?”

  “Wait and see.”

  “You have a plan?”

  “A good captain always has a plan,” Chiss said, his face impassive. “Let’s just hope they take the bait. Here, take the wheel. We’ll need your strength as we get closer to the shore.”

  Mansel stepped up, wondering just what the wily captain had in mind. He liked steering the Sea Arrow but he felt that he would be more useful preparing for the defense of the ship. He didn’t argue, and took the wheel. Captain Chiss stood behind him, looking over his left shoulder. The helmsman stayed close as well.

  “We need them to see us running, but we can’t create too much distance,” the captain said. “The key is to look nervous. To pull away from the pirates, but to also look fearful of the shore.”

  Mansel still didn’t understand what the captain’s plan was, but he did his best. The captain stayed right behind Mansel, giving him direction. The young warrior was tense, and he didn't do the best job of steering the ship. The pirates were pursing, slowly closing the distance between the two vessels and pressing the Sea Arrow closer and closer to shore. The waves seemed to grow larger, changing from rolling hills to crashing, white-capped swells that rose four and five feet before tipping over, rolling and frothing. Mansel had to keep the ship moving east, but as the waves grew he also had to turn the ship into the waves. Each crashing wave knocked the ship closer to the shore. Mansel’s control of the vessel was shaky at best, jerking first one way, then trying to correct course, then being knocked back by another wave.

  Eventually the helmsman had to assist Mansel, whose physical strength was waning. His shoulders were burning, and his back ached, as the wheel bucked under the onslaught of waves.

  “We can’t keep this up!” Mansel shouted. “We’ll be pushed into shore.”

  “Just a bit longer,” Captain Chiss said. He had turned and was staring at the pirate ship.

  All of Mansel’s concentration was focused on the waves and steering the ship, but he heard the crack and grinding sound from across the water. He didn’t dare look away from the wave coming toward them to see what had happened, but the crew was suddenly cheering and Captain Chiss’ hand slapped hard onto Mansel’s back.

  “That’s it!” he said. “Turn to starboard and take us back out to open water.”

  Mansel angled the ship into the next wave, and felt the ship rise and fall. The sails were full and the rigging was tight, but the ship seemed to be sluggish. It reminded Mansel of running through mud or deep snow. The result simply didn’t match the effort being put forth, but he didn’t give up. Instead he slowly turned the ship, angling back toward the seemingly endless waters. When there was a gap in the waves he turned and looked back toward the pirate ship.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “They hit rocks and are stuck,” Chiss said. “They had the advantage of speed and strength, although I don’t know how a ship like that could keep up with the Arrow. But that ship has a much deeper draft than ours.”

  “Draft?” Mansel asked.

  “That’s how deep a ship sits in the water. The Arrow has a draft of about fifteen feet, but a ship like that one is easily twenty-five feet, maybe more, depending on what they’re carrying. The closer we got to shore the more obstacles they would have to avoid.”

  “So all we had to do was lead them in and hope they went aground before we did?” Mansel asked.

  “It was a risk, I’ll admit that, but what choice did we have.”

  The entire crew was whooping and cheering. The pirate ship, behind them now, was listing to one side, the waves hammering against the hull that was stuck fast to some underwater rock formation. Mansel knew that the Sea Arrow could have just as easily run aground, but he understood the risk. If they had wrecked their ship, they would have lost nothing more than they stood to lose to the pirates. In fact, if the hull was splintered their cargo of wool would most likely have been ruined, robbing the pirates of the treasure they hoped to steal.

  Mansel could finally breathe a sigh of relief. He saw Danella and Vyctor come out onto the main deck. They looked worried, but the exuberance of the sailors made them relax. Danella was just looking up at Mansel with a hopeful expression when six huge tentacles rose up out of the ocean before them and wrapped around the Sea Arrow, lifting it from the sea. The cheers and laughter turned to screams of horror and Mansel’s heart skipped a beat. He had seen giant tentacles like the ones assaulting their ship. They belonged to a nightmarish sea creature, a monstrous squid that Zollin had summoned and had used to battle the great black dragon when their ship had been attacked. Fear struck Mansel dumb, not of dying, but a fear of being unable to stop such a creature. They had escaped the pirates, only to be pulled down into the cold depths of the sea by a monster that belonged in nightmares.

  Mansel did the only thing he knew to do. He drew his sword and rushed toward the monster.

  Chapter 15

  The officers shouted orders and the soldiers lined up in front of the door. Most carried spears and shields, which they kept leveled at the doorway. Lorik could hear other troops moving around the house. There was probably a back door and if not the soldiers would eventually climb in through the windows. Lorik didn’t want to get overwhelmed by soldiers on every side. He had fought in battles where he was vastly outnumbered before and was confident that he could slay all the soldiers if he had to, but he didn’t like waiting for his enemies to make the first move.

  Once he was confident that most of the soldiers had been sent to find another entrance to the building, Lorik charged out the front door. The men waiting for him set themselves behind their shields with their spears pointing out, the same way they would against a cavalry charge. But Lorik didn’t slam into their shield wall. Instead he jumped, hurdling the entire line of soldiers and landing in the muddy street behind them. They turned but for many they were too slow. Lorik’s swords sliced as he spun, opening up gaping wounds on their exposed backs. Their long spears were meant to keep Lorik at bay, but instead they made the soldiers slow to turn, their weapons clumsy as they tried to join the fight.

  Lorik thrust one sword into a soldier’s side, and slashed the next man in the face with his other sword. A side kick sent a third soldier crashing into the man beside him, knocking them both off their feet. There were six soldiers still on their feet and finally ready to fight, but Lorik could tell by the look in their eyes they didn’t have the stomach to face him. He feinted forward, then spun around, batting a spear to the side and stabbing the soldier in his groin before he could protect himself with his shield. The soldiers behind Lorik were charging forward, but Lorik dashed behind the two nearer troops. The street was muddy and slick. Two of the charging soldiers stop
ped but a third slipped and ended up wounding the man nearest Lorik.

  The battle was chaos, but that was exactly what Lorik wanted. The officers were nearby, barking orders to the troops that had been sent to the rear of the building. Lorik grabbed the nearest soldier by the back of the man’s collar and flung him to the ground at the feet of the other soldiers, then Lorik sprinted up the street toward the fortress. Behind him the officers were shouting and the troops they commanded were grunting with the effort of running through the mud. Lorik knew he could escape. The soldiers couldn’t have chased him down on foot even if they weren’t wearing armor, but most had on chain mail and leather.

  Snow began to drift down out of the sky in a lazy, peaceful manner that was the exact opposite of the chaos raging in the city. Lorik spun around as he came to the cobblestones that surrounded the fortress. The dukes of Yorick Shire had seen to it that the street surrounding their home was well maintained, while most of the streets in the city were hard-packed dirt in the summer, and black, clinging mud in the winter. Lorik was used to the muck and slime, having grown up in the Marshlands where the mud never dried and in some places the ground was so boggy that a man could get stuck in the mud until he was pulled down and buried alive.

  The soldiers from Baskla weren’t as prepared for the conditions as Lorik. When he turned to face them, many tried to stop and stumbled. The soldiers behind the front line slid into their fallen companions. For a military maneuver it was a disgrace. The disorder gave Lorik an opportunity to see the officers for the first time. They were at the rear of their formation, if it could be called that. Lorik thought the soldiers looked more like a well-armed mob, but he didn’t mind the lack of discipline. He would kill a few of the soldiers when they finally managed to gain the courage to attack, but most would break and run. They had expected to ambush him, to make quick work of their foe, but instead they had been bested by a single man and that realization made them nearly mad with terror.