The Lost Library of Cormanthyr le-1

by Mel Odom

  "Thank you, milady."

  Reaching the other side of the deck, Skyreach saw the grappling hooks launched from the pirate vessel claw for Chalice of the Crowns.

  "Cut the ropes!" she yelled. Lifting the long sword, she brought the keen edge down against a grappling hook's trailing rope. The hemp was tightly wound, and it took two more blows to completely sever it. The grappling hook, a trident of curved metal, dropped at Skyreach's feet. She kicked it away, then it vanished in a new coil of waves that slapped across the deck.

  A long, feathered shaft embedded in the railing before her. The barbed head sank through the decorative gingerbread of the railing, stopping only inches from Skyreach's abdomen. More arrows from the pirate ship suddenly thudded into Chalice of the Crowns.

  A jagged lightning bolt seared through the dark sky. The illumination temporarily washed away the shadows clinging to the pirate ship. Humans were there, but among their ranks Skyreach also noted dwarves and kobolds. She did not doubt that the crew knew exactly what they were after. Faimcir Glitterwing's legacy would draw many hunters.

  "Signal the archers," Skyreach ordered Verys.

  The man flagged rapidly.

  Skyreach moved along the railing as her men regrouped themselves. The archers drew their bows and strung them with difficulty.

  A number of grappling hooks had found the side of the elven ship. Axemen from among Skyreach's warriors brought their weapons thudding down against the ropes. But they were left open to counter-attack. Arrows from the pirate ship cut down the number of axemen, as well as the other elven warriors.

  The sea floor dropped away unexpectedly. Skyreach grabbed for the railing, maintaining her precarious balance. Water rushed in over and through the railing, drenching her. Salt stung her eyes and she blinked them clear.

  The pirates gathered along the railing. Knots of men hauled on the grappling ropes, securing them around spars. Sections of the railing splintered and pulled free, but others held. The pirate ship created, a staggering amount of drag on Chalice of the Crowns, but the other ship suffered as well. Much as it tried, it couldn't hold against the elven cargo vessel's heavier weight. Skyreach had seen to it that the holds were a full as they could be.

  Chalice of the Crowns jerked like a fish at the end of a line as it fought with the water and tugged at the grappling lines. Chunks of railing floated on the sea, riding out rolling waves. Those loose timbers became dangerous weapons as well when the ocean shoved them back aboard the ship.

  The elven warriors struggled to hold their formation, but the combined elements of the storm, sea, and pirates kept them off balance. At home in the woods around Cormanthyr, their foes would never have stood a chance.

  "Signal the archers," Skyreach ordered, "to fire at will."

  Verys complied.

  Even over the rolling thunder of the storm and the protests of the lines and masts aboard Chalice of the Crowns Skyreach heard the thrum of the elven longbows. The shafts pierced the flesh of their enemies at once, breaking the spine of the first attack as men fell back and cursed their shield mates to stand forward.

  Skyreach couldn't count the dozens of foes spread across the other ship's railing, but their sheer numbers told her that she had been betrayed. Someone with in her great-grandfather's courts had told the raiders what the prize aboard Chalice of the Crowns was. Or someone had paid dearly for the ship's capture.

  She didn't try to fathom who the traitor might have been. There were many in Faimcir Glitterwing's House who felt she should not have received custodial responsibility for the wealth he had amassed. She had even agreed. But it had been her greatgrandfather's bequest, announced by the law-reader after his death.

  The problem was, there was no one she trusted more then herself.

  The archers fired freely, and the shafts vied with the falling rain to fill the air. Human, dwarf, and kobold fell backward or over the side of the pitching railing as the arrows took them. But more men stepped forward. In the next few heartbeats, more and more of the elven arrows shattered against the leather and iron shields held up in defense.

  Chalice of the Crowns squirmed at the end of the lines binding her to the pirate ship. Then the pirates began to take up slack, hauling irresolutely on the ropes, gaining speed and strength in their endeavors with each handhold of success.

  "They're going to close with us, milady," Verys announced. His flags dripped water, but their bold colors stood out in the storm's lightning bursts.

  Skyreach knew it was true. She swung her long sword and hacked at another grappling line. "Signal the mages."

  Verys popped his flags at his team.

  Almost immediately, Skyreach could feel the mystic forces that sparked around her. She was very sensitive to any actions conducted through the Arts, even had some of the talent herself and had a modest list of spells she could perform. Besides the sword, she'd been schooled in spellcraft as well, learning of it even if not possessing the means.

  She swung her sword once more and saw the reinforced rope's last remaining strands part. The grappling hook spilled into the churning sea.

  "Verys, signal the axemen to follow me," she said as she started forward toward the prow of the ship. Nearly a dozen axemen trailed after her before she'd gone ten paces. They looked questioningly at her as she turned to face them.

  "Free the prow," she ordered, pointing at the grappling hooks holding fast the ship's nose. "Free the prow and maybe we can yank away from the pirates."

  The axemen fell to at once, hacking with enthusiasm inspired by desperation.

  Skyreach looked back at the cargo ship's bow. Captain Rinnah stood at the great wheel, his shoulders hunkered against it to show the strain he was physically under while manhandling his vessel. "Verys, send a runner back to the captain. Let him know we're trying to free the prow."

  Verys signaled quickly.

  Skyreach didn't check to see the effect. Gazing across the harsh spume of the sea trapped between the two ships, she saw a group of pirates reacting to her own attempt to hack the forward grappling lines free. Archers fell into position, covered by shield carriers. Arrows descended like carrion birds, ripping into the unprotected flesh of the axemen.

  One of the axemen went down at Skyreach's side, a cloth yard shaft through his neck. The elven warrior didn't hesitate, sheathing her sword and taking up the double-headed axe from the man drowning in his own blood. She stepped forward, dropping the weapon over her shoulder, then swinging it over her head and down. The blade cleaved cleanly through the grappling line, thunking solidly into the wooden railing. She ripped the axe free and moved toward the next grappling line. When she'd sheared it as well, only two remained. They were both cut before she freed the axe again.

  "Milady!"

  Skyreach started to turn, but Verys collided into her, knocking her to the side. She reached for the man, believing he had only lost his balance. Then she heard the meaty smack of flesh being struck. The barbed point of an arrow sliced into the elven warrior's shoulder.

  But it came through her signalman to reach her. He'd sacrificed himself to save her.

  "Verys!" Skyreach held the old man to her, knowing the arrow's barb offered her no real threat and only a small discomfort. At the same time, it was taking Verys's life.

  "Milady," the old man gasped, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth, "it was the least I could do. Your great-grandfather was my fr-" His eyes rolled up into his head as his body relaxed.

  Two other arrows sank deep into the old man's corpse before Skyreach could take them to safety. Reluctantly, she laid Verys beside the railing. Water sluiced around him. She forced herself to her feet and looked back into the bow. "Rinnah!" she screamed, though she knew it was futile. The captain would never hear her over the thunder of the storm, the yelling of the men, and the sound of the dying.

  Still, across the distance, the captain's eyes met hers, his gaze dark and seething despite the frenzy of cold rain between them. Rinnah bawled orders to his c
rew. The lines of sail changed. The big man hauled hard on the wheel, controlling the tiller.

  Chalice of the Crowns came about slowly, fighting time and tide and ties to the pirate ship, thrashing amid the crashing waves. With the grappling hooks on her prow cut asunder, though, she began to turn away from her tormentor.

  Skyreach fisted her sword, letting go the axe. It was too late to cut any more. The pirates were closing even more quickly than before. Their only hope lay in the other grappling hooks not being strong enough to hold the elven cargo freighter.

  Chalice of the Crowns's spinnaker had emptied when she found herself crossways in the wind. Under Rinnah's skillful hand, the ship came about to port. In the next gale, the spinnaker filled once more, cracking loud enough to be heard over the storm.

  A renewed cheer came from the throats of her men and the cargo ship's crew.

  Glancing back, Skyreach saw sections of the railing come loose and drop into the sea. Scaif tossed her a salute, his proud face creased in a smile despite the blood streaming down from his forehead. His axemen had been busy as well, chopping away the supports that held the railing.

  For a moment, Skyreach made herself believe they would make it if the storm did not take them.

  Then her sensitivity to magic spells tingled again, becoming an almost painful itch. The smell of ozone pervaded the air. A sudden crash dimmed the noise of the thunder. Fire clouds suddenly wreathed the elven ship's sails. Timbers split from the horrendous impacts of the spell that reduced the ship's rigging to char. The impact knocked Skyreach from her feet.

  The elven warrior scrambled at once, her hands struggling to find a grip anywhere on the slick timbers of the deck. She forced herself up, staying crouched to keep her balance as the ship reared again. Harsh light from the burning sailcloth above her limned Chalice of the Crowns, turning her decks into target areas. Arrows from the pirate archers took their toll, dropping men in their tracks for the sea to claim with the next wave.

  The swarm of fireballs cast by a mage or collection of mages aboard the pirate vessel took away all of the cargo ship's drive. Instantly, Chalice of the Crowns was reduced to a prisoner of the sea, a plaything that would be discarded and swallowed whole once she turned wrong.

  The pirates hauled on the grappling lines again. The distance between the ships lessened. Any of Scaif s warriors who dared attempt to cut the ropes died before they got close enough to sever a single strand of the hemp. The archers among the pirates evidenced their skill without flaw.

  Only one man made it to the remaining railing. He raised his axe. Then a curling flare of lightning spanned the distance between the ships and caught him full in the chest. His blackened husk hit the deck. The corpse rolled for only a moment as the deck rose and fell, then a swell of water washed it away, leaving nothing behind.

  Skyreach had failed. She gathered herself, one hand grasping the long sword as the pirate ship came alongside. Swiftly laid planks bridged the gap between the ships and pirates flooded onto the deck of the elven ship Scaif rallied his men, urging them into the fray. But Skyreach knew it would only delay the inevitable. They would be taken, and the cargo would be stolen.

  A grim smile twisted her lips as she staggered toward the cabins in the bow. She stumbled down the steps, finally giving up and letting herself fall from halfway down. Pain wracked her body, but she channeled it as she'd been taught, turning it into further energy to keep her moving. Hate and hurt, her great-grandfather had instructed her, were two things that could be attained through force of will, nourished, and used to get more from one's self than any other emotion save love. And love was far too costly and too narrow to be of use.

  Rising at the bottom of the drenched steps, trapped water in this section of the ship already coiling around her ankles, Skyreach staggered down the line of cabins. The uncontrolled rocking of the ship threw her back and forth across the passageway. It wouldn't be long before the sea broke her, scattering all the treasures in the hold across the bottom of the Trackless Sea.

  She stopped at the fifth door and rapped on it with the long sword's pommel. "Cylthik!" she called.

  "Milady?" The voice on the other side of the wooden barrier sounded old, quavering and almost lost amid the plaintive creaks and groans of the battered ship.

  "Open the door," Skyreach commanded, leaning heavily against the wood. Her elf vision helped her see through the natural dark. The water rolling through the passageway look black. A drowned rat slithered loosely across her boots, animated by the motion racking the ship. She turned away from the tiny corpse as the door beside her opened.

  Cylthik stood before her, huddled in robes. His ever-present mage's cap rested askew on his head. Blood spotted the iron-gray cloak he wore. He was back-lit by a lantern hanging from the ceiling and sending twisted shadows spiraling across the walls.

  "It's time," Skyreach said.

  The old mage's eyes looked rheumy and unfocused. The gnarled staff in his hands possessed a clawed foot that it hadn't had before, and the talons were sunk deep into the hardwood deck. The old mage held onto it with both hands. "You are sure, milady?"

  Skyreach was surprised when she found she had to release a tight breath before she could answer. "Yes."

  "Would it not have come to this," the mage said, shaking his head.

  "You have the strength?"

  A new light flared within the old mage's eyes. "Milady, my magicks were something your great-grandfather counted on. I never let him down."

  "Then don't let me down either."

  His eyes locked with hers and held. "I will not."

  An ache pierced Skyreach's heart, surprising her. She had always kept her distance from men and women she commanded, especially those like Cylthik who had known her as a child. Command was never easy, and familiarity-she'd been told-only bred contempt. She pushed the emotion away. "Thank you, Cylthik. Now see that it is done."

  "And where will you be?"

  "Up on the deck," Skyreach answered simply. "I have men dying there, to fulfill this mission that I undertook. There can be no other place for me."

  "You great-grandfather would be proud."

  "No," Skyreach said as she turned her back and started back along the passageway. "Faimcir Glitterwing would expect no less." Before she reached the top of the stairs coming up out of the passenger hold, she felt Cylthik's magicks cascading around her.

  Above decks, the fires incinerating the sails had almost died out, but the light was replaced by lanterns held by the attacking pirates. The humans among them wouldn't have the excellent night vision of the elves. The expanding circle of lanterns marked the outer perimeters of the pirates' encroachment.

  Reacting instantly, taking the pitch and yaw of the ship into account, the elven warrior parried the slashing thrust at her head, then riposted and shoved the point of her long sword deep into the man's throat. She yanked it out of flesh forcibly, lifting a foot and kicking the dying man in the face.

  Gazing across the deck, she saw Scaif battling three men. The warrior's long sword and dagger seemed to be everywhere, and his footing was sure in spite of the wet deck. The dagger licked out suddenly, sending a pirate spinning away. Even as the man fell, his throat cut, two more pirates took his place.

  Further down, Captain Rinnah held off a group of pirates with a belaying pin and a cutlass. The burly man roared with savage glee, almost sounding as if he was enjoying the fight despite the fact that his ship was coming apart around him.

  Over half her warriors were dead. Skyreach figured that from the numbers she could count that were alive. Only a few of the bodies remained aboard the cargo ship. The sea had claimed the rest.

  However, Skyreach knew that Cylthik's magicks would make the sea give up those dead. Their souls were already claimed by a service that they would not be released from. She moved out of the hold as two more pirates came at her.

  Putting her back to the wall, she dropped into a defensive position.

  "A woman!" one of
the men roared. "I claim first rights!" He was middle-aged and gap-toothed, tattoos scoring the flesh of his cheeks.

  "First, second, or thirtieth," the second pirate bellowed back, "it matters not to me. The feel of a woman's flesh is something I've been missing for too long now."

  Skyreach didn't hesitate. Her left hand closed about the dagger at her hip, ripping it free. She parried the first man's thrust, taking advantage of their efforts to take her alive. The second man stepped in closer, thinking to be too quick for her. Skyreach swirled back around and opened a gash in the pirate's thigh near his crotch with the long sword. Only his quick reflexes powered by fear kept him from being unmanned.

  "Damn her!" the pirate screamed, stepping back, his palm pressed to his wound. "Kill her and be done with it!"

  Feinting, Skyreach whirled again, stepping into the other man's hasty lunge. The elven warrior lifted her dagger, holding it point downward from her fist. She whipped her arm back and sheathed the dagger into the man's gapped teeth. The point slid home easily, then became lodged in the spinal column at the back of the neck.

  The wounded pirate lunged forward again, his cutlass hacking at Skyreach's face. She ducked below the blow and twisted away. As the pirate readied himself for another swing, she.brought her long sword up and shoved it through the man's armor, through his breastbone, and into the heart beyond.

  The pirate gasped and stiffened in surprise, gazing down at the enchanted rune blade that had run through his leather armor as if it were so much paper. He died and toppled over, sliding from the long sword.

  Skyreach glanced out over the darkening waves. The moon retreated behind a bank of clouds as if afraid to see what would happen next. The deck of Chalice of the Crowns was lit only by the lanterns carried by the pirates and the few that hadn't been washed out along the cargo ship itself.