Suddenly Nicholas was defending himself as the man executed a furious attack. Nicholas backed away, then counterattacked, and the duel was engaged in earnest. Nicholas was younger and faster, but the older captain was obviously skilled and practiced. Nicholas tried to focus on his opponent, but he couldn’t help but worry about how the rest of the battle was going. He knew that the plan was to cut loose the two guards below in the begala, so they could at least work to keep the ship off the rocks, while Amos and everyone else came aboard this ship. It was an all-or-nothing gamble, for if Nicholas’s raiders were driven back, there was no place to go.
Nicholas slashed out and caught the captain along the arm, forcing him to drop his sword. Leveling the point of his sword at the captain, he said, ‘Surrender!’
The man pulled a knife from his belt and threw himself at Nicholas, who instinctively pushed forward with his sword. The sword entered the man below the breastbone, piercing upward into the heart, and the man collapsed.
The sensation that traveled up Nicholas’s arm was no different from what he had experienced when he killed Render, and it was no less disturbing, the friction of steel on bone and sinew. Nicholas pulled out his blade and turned. There were two other cabins on this level, the doors across from one another before the captain’s. Nicholas chose the right-hand door. He kicked hard with his right foot, then ducked to his left, having learned his lesson. When no bolt flew through the door, he looked inside.
The cabin was empty. He repeated the procedure with the other door and a bolt flew through it, barely missing him. If he hadn’t dodged aside, that one most certainly would have skewered him.
He sprang to the door, only to have a shoulder driven into his stomach as the first mate leaped through it. Nicholas heard cloth rip and felt something brush along his ribs, and he struck hard with the butt of his sword hilt at the base of the man’s skull. A grunt of pain was all the response he got, and he felt another scrape along his ribs as he hammered at the man’s head. Suddenly the first mate went limp and Nicholas pushed him off.
Nicholas stood up and felt a burning on his left side. He reached down and his hand came away wet. He looked at the floor and saw the knife the first mate had tried to kill him with, blood on the blade. Nicholas examined his shirt and saw the blade had grazed him, slicing the skin, but not cutting very deep. He pulled a lungfull of air and fought off a bout of dizziness as his side began to burn and throb.
Nicholas returned to the main deck, where Ghuda and the soldiers seemed to hold the upper hand. The black-clad defenders were overwhelmed by the suddenness of the attack, and most of them lay on the deck.
Glancing to his right, he saw Amos backed into a corner by two men coming at him. Nicholas ran to his aid, but as Amos blocked one man’s cut, that man engaged Amos’s blade, holding it aloft, allowing the other to drive his sword into Amos’s stomach.
‘Amos!’ Nicholas shouted as he struck out and killed the man who held Amos’s blade. Then he took an attack from the second man and, with a riposte, drove his own sword’s point into him.
He kicked aside the wounded men and knelt next to Amos. He was unconscious and his breathing was shallow and labored. Nicholas glanced over and saw Ghuda kill the man he was facing. There was no respite in the fighting.
Nicholas hurried from Amos’s side, and fell as a hand grabbed his ankle. Nicholas rolled over and lashed out with his boot, taking the wounded sailor in the face. There was the sound of bone crunching under his heel, and the man screamed.
Nicholas leaped up and drove his sword point into the man’s neck. He spun as Ghuda shouted. ‘They’re fantastic! They won’t surrender!’
Grimly Nicholas shouted, ‘No quarter!’ He knew it meant killing every man on the ship. A bitter taste of acid filled his mouth and he spat, then ran to attack a black-clad sailor who, despite his wounds, was rising behind one of Nicholas’s own men, to attack him once again.
The fight seemed to go on indefinitely, and twice Nicholas could swear he was killing men he had faced before. Then it was suddenly silent.
Ghuda said, ‘That’s all of them.’
Nicholas nodded dully. He was drenched in perspiration and blood and his knees shook with fatigue. His left foot ached dully, and his side burned. Then Nicholas remembered: ‘Amos!’
He ran back to where the fallen Admiral lay, and with relief saw he was still breathing. Ghuda knelt next to Nicholas and said, ‘He’s in a bad way. We need Anthony and his skill.’
Nicholas said, ‘Get him to the captain’s cabin.’
Two sailors gently picked up Amos and carried him inside. Nicholas looked around and saw that every man was staring at him. Suddenly he realized that, with Amos stricken, he would have to sail this ship. Looking past Ghuda to one of the sailors, he said, ‘Who’s the oldest man here?’
The man said, ‘Pickens, I think, Highness.’
‘Pickens!’ called Nicholas, and a voice answered from the foredeck.
‘Here!’ A man in his late thirties hurried down from the foredeck and said, ‘Yes, Captain.’
‘You’re first mate, Pickens. Get these bodies overboard.’
‘Aye, Captain,’ said the newly promoted seaman. Turning to the crew, who were exhausted and bloody, he said, ‘You heard the captain! What are you waiting for? Get those corpses over the side!’
Ghuda said, ‘You all right?’
Nicholas glanced at the bloody shirt he wore and said, ‘It’s nothing. It’s Amos I’m worried about.’
‘He’s tough,’ said Ghuda, but it was clear he was also worried.
Nicholas said, ‘I’ve learned a lot from Amos on this voyage, and I’ve sailed some before; I just hope I don’t make too much of a hash of this.’
Lowering his voice, Ghuda said, ‘Just tell your Mr Pickens what you want done, and let him fret about how to do it.’
Nicholas half smiled, half winced. ‘Sound thinking.’
A sailor hurried up on deck and said, ‘High – er, Captain, there’s prisoners below.’
Nicholas followed after, shouting, ‘Mr Pickens!’
‘Aye, Captain?’
‘When you’re done cleaning up, turn this ship around and head back to the city!’
‘Aye, Captain.’
Grimly Nicholas smiled and said to Ghuda, ‘This might work.’
They hurried to the main hatchway, where he looked down. From three decks down, a dozen faces peered up at them. No one spoke.
Ghuda said, ‘Are these our people or those copies?’
Nicholas said, ‘I don’t know.’ Feeling overwhelmed, he said, ‘Lock them in. We’ll sort this out when we find the others.’
He stood up and felt the ship roll under him as the crew finished pushing the dead over the side and returned to the task of directing the ship. Ghuda nudged him and pointed, and Nicholas understood. Reluctantly he walked back to the companionway leading up to the quarterdeck, where he was expected to oversee the ship now that he was captain.
Climbing the ladder, he found Pickens standing before the wheel, a sailor manning the helm. The mate cried, ‘Trim sails to come about!’ Turning to the helmsman, he said, ‘Come to starboard.’ Then he shouted, ‘Coming about!’
Aloft, the sailors hurried to their assigned places. Pickens said, ‘This ship’s a wicked copy of the first, Captain. I can’t tell them apart, and I sailed the Eagle ten years.’
‘How are we doing?’ asked Nicholas.
‘Six wounded, three dead. Another ten minutes and we would have run aground. But we’re in good enough shape.’
Nicholas softly said, ‘I hope you’re right.’
As Nicholas stood motionless, rolling with the deck, a warning shout from above called out there was another ship close by. Nicholas felt his pulse race, but the reassuring voice said, ‘Not to worry, Captain. I won’t run over the begala on our way back.’ Lifting his voice, he said, ‘Keep a weather eye out!’
Nicholas smiled and his newly appointed first mate said, ‘Why don�
�t you go below and have that wound looked at?’
Nicholas nodded. ‘You have the helm, Mr Pickens.’
‘Aye, sir!’ he said, snapping a salute.
Nicholas left the quarterdeck and went to where soldiers were taking care of the wounded. One saw him and without asking helped him out of his tunic. Nicholas looked away while the man probed the wound, then held his hands up while the man wrapped a clean cloth bandage around his ribs.
He silently prayed that Harry and the others were getting through their end of the plan without problems.
Harry ducked behind the low protection of the cabin of the riverboat as arrows sped overhead. Calis rose up calmly and loosed an answering shot, then ducked back behind the cabin as a scream from the shore verified he had hit his target.
Lying on the deck, Praji said, ‘That’s four of them. You’d think they’d get the hint and pull back.’
Harry called past Praji’s prone form to Tuka. ‘How much farther?’
‘I think another hundred yards, Sab.’
They were drifting down the river, being fired at by archers on horseback who had come riding to investigate the fire. A bargeman had died from the first volley of arrows, and after that everyone hugged the decks. Harry called out, ‘Marcus!’
‘What?’ came the answer from the second boat.
‘How are your people?’
There was a moment of silence, then Marcus called back, ‘We’ve got a wounded man here, but it’s not too bad.’
Calis called out, ‘Marcus – there are two particularly good targets outlined against the rising moon.’
‘I’ll take the one on the left,’ he said.
‘On three,’ called Calis. ‘One, two,’ and on ‘three’, he stood and fired. Harry heard an answering bowstring hum as Marcus fired, too. A pair of shouts cut the night, and no more arrows came from the shore.
Harry counted to ten, then shouted, ‘Oars! Now!’
Boatmen jumped to grab the oars that had been shipped when the bowmen had begun shooting at them. They fitted them into the oarlocks and pulled hard, while the tillermen steered them back toward the center of the river. In short order, the ragged line had re-formed, and Harry shouted, ‘Is everyone all right?’
The question was shouted from boat to boat and the answer came back quickly: one dead, the first man shot; two injured, neither badly. Harry moved back to the bow of the first boat, glancing down at Brisa, who still huddled behind the cabin. ‘You all right?’
‘Scared to death,’ she snapped back. ‘But other than that, I’m fine.’
He knelt next to her. ‘We’ll be fine soon.’
‘If your friend and his merry band have managed to ambush a ship under full sail … I grew up around ships, remember.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m not holding my breath.’
He put his hand on hers. ‘We’ll be all right.’
She tried to smile. ‘I hope so.’
They entered the bay and moved along at a good pace, the wide riverboats wallowing in the swells. Harry said, ‘I’m glad we don’t have to take these things out to sea.’
Praji and Vaja stood holding on to the rail that ran around the low cabin. Praji said, ‘Sounds like fun to me.’
Vaja said, ‘If you’ve not observed it before, my friend has a twisted sense of humor.’
‘I get the idea,’ said Harry.
A shout from the rearmost boat caused Harry to turn. It was repeated, and then he heard Marcus shout, ‘There are boats coming after us.’
‘Oh, damn,’ said Harry, pushing past Praji to the tiller. He called to Marcus, ‘How many and how far?’
Marcus relayed the question and in a moment shouted back, ‘Three, a couple of hundred yards behind. They’re longboats, and they’re loaded with armed men.’
Harry quickly weighed his options, then said, ‘We’ve got the most fighters on the first two boats.’ He called to Marcus, ‘Have your boat pull out to the right, and let the others pass. You and Calis will have to discourage those who follow.’
Praji glanced around. ‘Not much room to fight. Have the girl jump to another boat as it passes.’
Harry said, ‘Good idea.’ Before Brisa could protest, he called out to Marcus, ‘Have Margaret and Abigail get into a passing boat, and anyone else who can’t fight.’
Harry ignored the rude remark that came from Margaret about her fighting ability. He just shouted, ‘You’re too weak, so shut up!’
Then he turned to find Brisa advancing on him. Before she could say anything, he pointed his finger. ‘And you’re getting off, too. I don’t have time to argue!’
She stopped, blinked a minute, then threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. With a deep kiss, she jumped atop the cabin and moved to where a boat was pulling alongside. ‘I love you, stupid. Don’t get yourself killed!’ She leaped easily across the few feet of water between, landing on the deck.
‘I love you, too,’ Harry said.
He pulled his sword and went to the rear of the boat. He saw Abigail and Margaret on the next boat that passed, and then heard shouts from the tenth boat in line. The message was relayed and Marcus said, ‘They’re shooting at the last boat.’
Calis climbed up to the cabin roof and said, ‘No longbows.’
Marcus climbed up on the cabin of his boat as more boats passed them, the rowers pulling furiously on the oars. The two bowmen pulled as one and let fly, and two men in the pursuing boats fell. Instantly the rowers in the longboats backed water and Harry laughed. Calis said, ‘That should discourage them for a while.’ He patted his quiver. ‘If they don’t figure out we’re running low on arrows,’ he added softly.
From ahead someone shouted, ‘The ship!’ Harry turned and felt relief flooding through him as the ship came into view. It was reefing in sails and turning into the wind, so it would slow enough for those on the boats to board. Harry said, ‘We’re going to have to keep those men behind us off our necks while we unload cargo.’
Tuka said, ‘Sab, what about us?’
Harry said, ‘We’ll worry about saving your lives, then we’ll find a way to get you ashore.’
Tuka nodded, but it was clear the loss of his promised ten boats to lead on a caravan and the profits to be made was weighing heavily on the little man’s mind. Harry noticed and said, ‘Not to worry. We’ll make it worth your while. You’ll still be paid to get the Ranjana upriver to her father.’
Tuka tried to brighten at that news, but it was clear he was not convinced.
The first boat reached the side of the ship and a cargo net was lowered. The mercenaries and boatmen opened the covers of the small cabins that covered the holds, and threw them into the water. They frantically loaded the supplies they would need for the long voyage home and, when the boat was empty, climbed lines up to the ship. Harry called out, ‘Some of you, wait for the second boat and give them a hand!’
A pair of boatmen who were about to climb away hung from the ropes as the first boat at the ship was pushed away by the second, then lowered themselves to the deck to help unload that boat.
The pursuing longboats hovered awhile, then one turned and retreated. ‘Are they leaving?’ Harry asked.
‘No,’ answered Calis. ‘I don’t think so. I think they’re going for reinforcements.’
The boats moved into place, and with the additional hands on deck, the unloading went quickly. Up on the deck, Nicholas watched with concern as what had occurred was relayed to him by those coming aboard. Pickens had told him they could be under way within minutes of the order being given, but it would take them a while to get out of the harbor mouth.
Then Nicholas saw Margaret and Abigail climb aboard, helping two of the weaker prisoners get over the rail. He hurried to give them a hand, then helped the girls climb over the rail. Both gave him a warm greeting, but Abigail turned away and looked down to the boats below, asking, ‘Marcus? Will he be all right?’
Nicholas felt a mixture of jealousy and relief; then both emotions were push
ed aside as a voice from above called out, ‘Captain! Ship weighing anchor!’
‘Where away?’ he called.
‘Off the stern to port!’
Nicholas climbed up to the quarterdeck, hurrying to the stern. There he saw a ship unfurling sail in the moonlight. To Pickens he said, ‘How long?’
‘She’ll be under way in ten minutes, longest. She’ll be on us in twice that time.’
Nicholas shouted, ‘How many boats left?’
‘Two,’ came the answer.
He hurried to the side of the ship where sailors and mercenaries frantically hurried to clear the cargo net, so it could be lowered to the next-to-last boat. He went to the rail and shouted, ‘Harry!’
‘What?’ came the answer.
‘Who’s got the gold?’
‘It’s here, with me!’
‘Bring it, then get off. Abandon the rest of the cargo. Get everyone aboard. We’re leaving.’
A protesting voice informed Nicholas that the Ranjana was aboard and she said, ‘Captain! My things are on the boat.’
Nicholas said, ‘We’ll buy you some new things, if we live long enough.’ Looking at Margaret and Brisa, he said, ‘I know I can count on you two. Margaret, this is Brisa; Brisa, Margaret. Would the two of you get the Ranjana off the deck and into the cabin to the port side of Amos’s?’
They took the Ranjana and her four maids in tow, and soon Harry, Calis, and Marcus were scrambling aboard and the heavy chest of Shingazi’s gold was being raised. Nakor and Anthony were among the last aboard, and Nicholas shouted, ‘Mr Pickens! Get us out of here!’
Orders were passed and Nicholas glanced around. The sailors and soldiers from Crydee who had been pressed into sea duty were running to follow Pickens’s orders. The mercenaries that Praji had hired stood to one side, while the boatmen Tuka had employed huddled near the main hatch. Nicholas said, ‘Just keep out of the way,’ to the boatmen, then said to Praji, ‘Your men may have a real fight yet.’
Prince of the Blood, the King's Buccaneer Page 93
