‘Kinsel?’ The man moved forward, catching enough of the meagre light from the porthole to show his features.
Kinsel fought disbelief. He wanted to speak, and only croaked. Gulping a breath, he tried again. ‘Reeth?’ It came out as a rasp.
Caldason stood over him. ‘You took some finding,’ he said.
‘Reeth?’ Kinsel repeated, gaping. ‘Is it really you or am I dreaming?’
‘It’s no dream. But it’ll turn into a nightmare if we don’t get you out off this ship, and fast.’
‘But how did–’
‘Questions later, all right?’ He took in the singer’s wasted frame and haggard face. ‘Hell, Kinsel, you look rough.’
‘Yes. I expect I do.’ His eyes welled. He began to shake.
Caldason laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. ‘Steady. It’s going to be all right; I’m getting you out of here. Can you walk?’
‘Yes. Well…’ He nodded at the chain securing his ankle.
Caldason went to the foot of the bunk and swung his axe at the wooden upright. The blade sliced through in a single stroke, and he pulled the chain through the loop on Kinsel’s anklet. ‘We’ll get that off later. Up you come.’ He helped him stand.
The noises outside grew wilder.
Kinsel wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. He looked dazed. ‘You’re not alone?’
‘No. But we’re nowhere near the size of Vance’s crew.’ Rukanis visibly tensed at mention of the pirate’s name. ‘We don’t have too far to go. Can you make it?’
‘I’ll cope.’
‘Good. Let’s move.’ He went to take the singer’s arm.
‘There’s no need. I can do it alone. Really.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Just lead me. But, Reeth…’
‘Yes?’
‘Tanalvah. And the children. How…how are…?’
‘They’re fine.’ Caldason had no way of knowing whether they were or not, but felt a judicious lie was in order. ‘You’ve no need to worry about them. Just concentrate on doing as I say.’
Caldason checked that the way was clear and they moved out of the cabin. The door opened directly onto the deck where a stiff, cold wind blew. Kinsel shivered. Caldason unhooked his cloak and wrapped it round the singer’s shoulders. Kinsel didn’t protest.
The body of the guard was slumped against the wall in a gathering pool of blood. Kinsel stared, but said nothing.
‘Keep going,’ Caldason urged.
Kinsel walked falteringly, like a man who’d been kept in a confined space for too long, which in many ways he had.
As they moved away from the cabins and towards the main deck, they saw a handful of men. Beyond them, a larger group were engaging some of the pirate crew.
‘They’re with us,’ Caldason said, signalling to the nearer group.
Two of the men peeled off and jogged to them.
‘Where’s Darrok?’ Caldason wanted to know.
‘Amidships,’ one of them answered.
‘I want you to go with these men, Kinsel.’
‘But, Reeth–’
‘You can trust them. They’ll take you down to a boat we’ve got moored alongside. Do as they say. They’ll take care of you.’
‘What about you?’
‘I’ll be along. Soon.’
‘Why not now?’
‘There’s something I have to do first. Look, there’s no time to discuss it, all right? You’ll be fine.’ He turned to the two men. ‘Look after him.’ They nodded and moved forward to take charge of Kinsel.
The singer allowed himself to be led towards the stern. Caldason watched them go, then ran forward. When he was near the end of the cabin block, he stopped dead.
Two brawny pirates had rounded the corner ahead. They were well armed and bent on mayhem. The second they saw him, they charged.
He would have preferred meeting them with his swords. But they were sheathed. His only option was the axe, and he had it swinging before the first man reached him. Skidding to a halt just beyond the axe’s sweep, the pirates hung back until it hit the apex of its swing. Then they darted in, forcing Caldason to retreat. But he had the axe moving again instantly, blocking their assault.
They came on in a pincer movement, hacking at him from left and right. He parried them, muscles straining as he worked the heavier weapon. The exchange grew ever more frenzied, the fury of his opponents rising.
Frustration bred rashness, and one of the pirates got too close. Caldason offset the man’s blade with a heavy blow, following with a swipe that wrong-footed him. Then he swiftly brought the axe over in an arc, shattering the pirate’s skull. A puppet with its strings slashed would have fallen no quicker.
The second pirate, stunned by his comrade’s fate, scuttled clear. But wrath got the better of caution, and he made to rush into battle once more. Caldason lifted the axe well over his shoulder and hurled it with all his strength. Spinning through the air, a speeding ring of wood and steel, it pierced the man’s chest, the force of the strike sending him tumbling, lifeless.
Caldason looked back along the deck and saw Kinsel being helped over the rail. He left the axe embedded in the corpse and moved on, drawing a sword.
The group of islanders he joined amidships had dealt with their opposition. The bodies of perhaps a dozen pirates were scattered around. Caldason was about to ask after Darrok when he appeared, swooping in on his glamoured disc.
‘Did you find him?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘And?’
‘He’s alive, but he looks a mess.’ Caldason indicated the bodies. ‘There are more than this, surely?’
‘We had a stroke of luck. Look over there.’ He pointed at a large grille set in the deck some way further along. ‘But I wouldn’t get too close if I were you.’
Caldason trotted to it, and saw that the hatch had been secured with a chain and heavy lock. As he approached he heard a din rising, and when he leaned over to look, a roar went up, and cutlass tips jabbed through the grille. He pulled back, but not before seeing several score pirates in the hold.
Darrok glided in to hover beside him. ‘Most of them were sleeping below decks when we got on board, and we managed to keep them there. I wouldn’t count on it lasting much longer though.’
A determined pounding shuddered the grille, underlining his point.
‘What about the rest of the ship?’
‘Cleared. Except for the wheelhouse block.’
‘And that’s where Vance’s cabin is?’
‘Underneath the bridge, yes. At least, it always was, and the defectors from his crew confirmed it. I’ve kept it well guarded. We haven’t tried going in there yet.’
‘Then it’s time we did. Let’s get Vance sorted and get out of here.’
‘I’ve been waiting to hear that for a long time, Reeth.’ He yelled orders at the waiting islanders, telling them to be ready to evacuate the ship. More than a few of the men looked disgruntled.
They set out for the wheelhouse, Caldason walking next to Darrok’s gliding dish.
‘Why the long faces back there?’
‘Some of our men wanted to finish off those below deck, too,’ Darrok said. ‘They think we’re losing an opportunity by not putting them to death.
‘Maybe they’ve got a point.’
‘I can’t bring myself to order the killing of men in a situation like that.’
‘After what they did to you?’
Darrok eyed him darkly. ‘Oh, don’t get me wrong; I hate them. But there’s a difference between meeting a man in a fair fight and spearing fish in a bucket. I like to be able to sleep nights.’
‘As it happens I see no honour in it myself. Though I’d do it if I had to.’
‘I’d have to be pushed pretty hard. But I’ve no such compunction about Vance. Besides, I’ll be cutting off the serpent’s head. The pirate alliance will fall without him.’
They got to the wheelhouse at the stern. The bridge itsel
f was occupied by islanders, and guards dotted the deck.
‘Well, that’s it,’ Darrok said, indicating a single door under the bridge.
‘You’ll never get your disc through there.’
‘I will if I tilt it. Don’t look at me like that. If I slide off onto my arse I’m still going in. I’ve waited too long for this reckoning.’
‘All right. But let’s get the door down first. Don’t worry, you’ve got first crack at Vance. What do you intend doing with him, by the way?’
‘Cutting his throat’s a temptation. But I’ll call him out. He can face me in single combat.’
‘What if he won’t?’
‘If he sees it’s his only option, he’ll face me. I’ll tell him you’ll let him go if he wins.’
‘You think I’d do that?’
‘That’s your decision. I’ll be past caring.’
‘Thanks,’ Caldason came back dryly. ‘Hold on.’ He beckoned to a couple of the men guarding the area. ‘We need to get through that door,’ he told them. ‘Can you improvise some kind of battering ram? Good. And get a few more people to help use it. Go!’
They ran off.
‘What kind of a fight is it going to be with you in that thing?’ Caldason said, nodding at Darrok’s dish. ‘Gives you a bit of an advantage, doesn’t it?’
‘You really think having no legs is an advantage in a duel? I don’t care. I just want to get to grips with the man. Anyway, fuck advantage; he owes me.’
‘Your decision.’
The sound of chopping drifted to them.
‘Of course, there might be more in there than just Vance,’ Caldason reckoned.
‘We can deal with it,’ Darrok replied dismissively. ‘Where are they with that ram?’
‘They’re coming.’
A party of six or seven men staggered into view, carrying a stout wooden spar.
‘What is it?’ Caldason called to them.
‘We found a damaged mast in a lumber-room near the prow,’ a muscular islander explained. ‘Should do the job.’
They lined it up in front of the door.
‘Sure there’s no other way out of there?’ Caldason said.
Darrok shook his head. ‘Just a porthole about the size of Vance’s head. I’d pay good money to see him try to get through that.’
‘Stand by then.’ He gave the signal.
The ram crew took a run at the door. A tremendous crash rang out. The door stayed closed.
‘Again!’ Darrok bellowed.
The ram pounded the door a second time. Still it held. They didn’t wait to be told to try again, and the third impact broke through, leaving the door in splinters. Caldason dashed forward. He ducked into the entrance, sword raised, the rammers crowding in behind him.
The cabin was large, and although poorly lit, no one seemed to be there.
A grand, elaborately carved bed stood against one wall. Beneath its brocaded silk sheets was the outline of a figure, which Caldason approached cautiously. Blade poised, he reached down and tore away the covers.
‘Gangway!’
Darrok manoeuvred his flying dish through the doorway. Tilting at a perilous angle, he just managed to scrape through.
‘Well?’ he said, arriving beside Caldason.
‘Just this.’
The thrown-back sheets revealed a couple of shabby flour sacks, stuffed with straw.
‘Shit,’ Darrok muttered dejectedly.
‘Looks like our information wasn’t entirely up to date.’
‘I should have known better than to think he’d be caught this easily.’
‘There’ll be other times.’
‘I was keyed up for this, Reeth. Ready to pay the bastard back, you know?’
‘You’ll get your shot. But right now we need to leave.’
They went back on deck.
Darrok produced a cloth satchel. Inside was a quantity of the rust-coloured powder called dragon’s blood. He placed it, open, at the base of the ship’s main mast. Then he lashed a clay water bottle above it, stoppered neck downwards.
‘This is going to sink the ship?’ Caldason said.
‘There’s nowhere near enough for that. But it’ll act as a useful diversion.’ He took a small rubber vial from his pocket. ‘Vitriol. A smidgen of this on the bottle stopper will burn through in a minute or less. Then the water hits the powder and…boom.’
‘What about them?’ Caldason pointed at the hatch set in the deck. The pirates trapped below could still be heard clamouring.
‘I suppose we’ve got to give them a sporting chance. Haven’t we?’
‘I’ll gladly kill any of them we meet in other circumstances.’
‘I’ll take that as a yes. If I do this, can you…?’
‘All right. But make sure our people are off first.’
Darrok bellowed the evacuation order and men began running towards the rail. ‘I’ll hold off until you get to the grille. But it won’t do to linger, Reeth. The rate the vitriol works at is unpredictable.’
‘Right.’
‘You’ll need this.’ He handed Caldason an iron key. ‘And get clear of that hatch fast. Those crewmen aren’t going to be in a happy mood when you free them.’
‘Just be sure to wait for me.’ He sheathed his sword and jogged off.
Darrok watched Caldason reach the hatch. Then after checking everyone else had gone overboard, he carefully opened the vial.
Caldason was on hands and knees, scrabbling for the chain and trying to avoid the swords thrust through the grid. He managed to get hold of the padlock and inserted the key. There was a sudden movement at the edge of his vision as Darrok’s dish took off, heading out to sea. Caldason turned the key and prised apart the arch of the lock, then he was up and running.
The hatch cover burst open behind him, and a flood of howling men poured out. As he ran for the ship’s rail an arrow whistled past his head. Another missed him by an even narrower margin. He heard the sound of many boots, thundering in pursuit. The rail was just ahead, and he leapt, skimmed it with his heels and went over the side.
There was what felt like a long drop, followed by the impact of freezing water and seconds of swirling confusion.
Hands were hauling him out. They dragged him aboard a large rowing boat, an old whaler with seating for twenty rowers. Somebody threw a blanket around his shoulders and he was guided to an empty bench. Kinsel sat closest to him, swathed in a blanket and wearing a glazed expression.
Arrows zipped into the water all around the boat, a few burying themselves in its timbers. One sliced through the thigh of a rower, at which several men took up bows and began firing back.
Then Darrok swooped in, scattering the pirates on the ship, buying the whaler time. Skipper Rad Cheross was at the rowing boat’s helm. Rows of thick metal tubes had been attached to the stern and sides, their forward ends hammered shut. Cheross sat by a makeshift valve.
‘I hope your friend Phoenix was right about this!’ he shouted at Caldason. ‘Oars up! Hold on to something!’ He turned the valve.
Sea water flooded the tubes, meeting the dragon’s blood packed inside. The boat shuddered violently. For an infinite moment everyone on board fully expected to be blown to pieces. Instead the vessel lurched forward, plumes of flame jetting from the tubes.
The craft moved faster and faster, its nose raised, and the passengers were thrown back by gravitational force. At the helm, Cheross struggled to steer a straight course.
An explosion sounded at their rear as a fireball rose from the pirate ship. The central mast was ablaze and panicked men could be seen running on deck.
A ragged cheer went up from the whaler. Then Darrok’s dish flew in from above, keeping pace with the speeding boat. Ahead, the outline of the Diamond Isle loomed against the night sky’s blue velvet.
The whaler kept up its velocity, swift as an arrow. Caldason was pummelled by wind and drenched with icy spray, yet couldn’t help feeling exhilarated. And he wasn’t alone. Grinni
ng, he turned to his companion.
Kinsel was sobbing.
18
A wing of the redoubt was used as an infirmary. But due to Kinsel’s state he was put by himself in a room nearby. In the corridor outside, Caldason and Darrok waited.
‘I’ve only seen your friend once before,’ Darrok said, ‘at the concert I mentioned, years ago. So I can hardly compare now with then. But to me he seems a shadow of the man he was.’
‘You’d be right. I just hope it’s only his body the last few months have left their mark on.’
‘He should be grateful he came away from Vance alive. That’s quite a feat in itself.’
‘You should know,’ observed Caldason.
‘Something else I know is that Vance is going to want retribution for this. He must be spitting blood.’
‘No change there, then.’
‘And I missed my chance to repay him. That rankles.’ Darrok’s floating dish rocked, as though shadowing its master’s agitation.
‘The way things are going, you’ll get another crack at him.’
‘Assuming a fleet from one of the empires doesn’t arrive first.’
‘That would solve the problem, wouldn’t it?’
‘Not quite in the way I hoped.’ Darrok glanced at a window opposite. A pink dawn was breaking. ‘Can we hold out,’ he wondered, ‘if an empire moves against us?’
‘They will, be sure of that. Whether we can hold them…well, that might be down to the Source, and we’ve chewed that over often enough.’
‘Forget the Source. I don’t want to sound negative, but we can’t count on you finding it. There’s no way we can hold off an invasion just by force of arms, is there?’
‘I think you know the answer to that. We could delay things, at best.’
Darrok sighed. ‘I would love you to have said something else.’
A door banged and the sound of running feet reached them. Kutch and Pallidea arrived.
‘Is it true?’ Kutch blurted, panting. ‘You rescued Kinsel?’
‘We got him, yes,’ Caldason confirmed.
‘Great! How is he?’
‘Kinsel’s been through a pretty rough time, Kutch. That’s bound to take its toll.’
The Diamond Isle Page 18
