by Alex Paul
“Headed home,” Arken said to Asher with relief in his voice.
“The necklace is not a bauble, sir. Our queen can predict the future when she wears that necklace!” Captain Rallat said to Captain Dunn when he rose from his bow. He was taller than Captain Dunn and looked down on him. “It contains the power of the Nander’s ancient god Tol himself.”
“If you believe in such sorcery,” Captain Dunn muttered. “We prefer our god Kal, a god of science and reason. None of your superstitious magic in our land.”
“It might serve you well to worship a god with actual power, then.” Captain Rallat stiffened, his hand reaching for his sword handle.
“You’re the one running from an enemy who has sunk all but one of your ships,” Captain Dunn shouted. His hand reached for his sword handle in response, forgetting he had dropped his sword, and now looked with surprise at his empty scabbard. Lantish sailors moved in around their unarmed captain to protect him, while Tolarian sailors began to form up behind Captain Rallat.
“And so we have fought wars for all my living memory,” Captain Rallat said, easing his hands away from his sword, making the sailors on the ship visibly relax. Then he laughed, a high-pitched cackle of glee. “And if you hadn’t noticed, you’re the last surviving ship in your fleet as well, sir!” Captain Rallat looked back at the oncoming Tookan ships. “And I hope your ship is fast!”
“Not fast rowing, I fear.” Captain Dunn smiled and shook his head, reaching for Rallat’s elbow to guide him to the stern, their confrontation forgotten. “We must devise a strategy for our escape.”
“Surely you’re fast enough rowing to at least stay even with those Tookans behind us? Their ships are slow when rowed, and now you have all my men to row as well,” Rallat said as he walked with the captain to the command deck.
“I thought we were going to have a new chapter in the Tolarian-Lantish wars just now,” Arken whispered to Asher. He had never thought much about their two countries worshipping two different gods since he had always assumed Kal was the one true god. But his grandfather’s telling him he was part-Nander now cast a different light on the subject, and he felt as if he were betraying part of his heritage by not honoring Tol, the original god of the Nanders.
“I wouldn’t have allowed them to fight,” Asher said. “I would have intervened. We need to escape the Tookans!”
Arken looked with new respect at his blood brother, the prince of Tolaria. It was something for the smallest person on the entire ship to speak calmly of taking command of over one hundred men! It seemed an odd contrast to Asher’s earlier fear about surviving the battle. Then Arken realized that courage about fighting as an individual depended on your belief that you were skilled at warfare, while having the courage to lead men depended on the belief that you knew the right course of action for your subjects to take to ensure their well-being.
“Five hundred legs to the nearest enemy ship, and they are drawing closer,” the old lookout warned as the Sea Nymph settled into its fastest rowing pace. “They will be within bow range soon.”
“All archers to the stern!” Captain Dunn shouted.
“That’s you, Arken!” Asher pounded him on the back.
CHAPTER 20
DEATH FROM THE SKY
We flee to the south. Asher is such a brave warrior. He chose to remain behind on the Lantish ship. We pray to Tol for his safety.
—Diary of Princess Sharmane of Tolaria
“How far to the enemy?” Yolanta’s breath came in fierce bursts between strokes. Down, push, lift, pull! His arms and back burned with pain, but he refused to slow his pace.
Nab, the captain of the Dagger, cupped his hands and shouted down into the rowing pit, “Almost in bow range, sir!”
“You, men, relieve Brumbal and me!” Yolanta ordered. He tried to jump up but almost fell, the fatigue was so heavy in his legs. The crewman waiting to row caught his elbow and helped him up to the catwalk.
“Did we do it, Brumbal?” Yolanta asked as he and Brumbal walked to the ship’s bow.
“Yes, look ahead.” Brumbal pointed forward. “We’re drawing closer to the Lantish ship. While we were rowing, they transferred some of the crew from the burning Tolarian vessel to the Princess’s warship and the rest of the crew to the Lantish ship. And they transferred a chest to the Lantish ship as well.”
“That must be the treasure chest,” Yolanta said. He looked behind to see smoke and flames coming from the abandoned Golden Willow ship one hundred legs aft of them. “But why would they leave the treasure on a slower ship?” Yolanta wondered aloud.
“Perhaps because they know the Lantish ship is faster under sail than the Princess’s warship?” Brumbal offered as explanation.
“That and to make us divide our forces,” Yolanta said. “Now we have to chase two ships, Brumbal. One with the Princess on board, the other with the treasure. It’s a smart strategy.”
Brumbal squinted. “You’re right.”
“Captain Nab, get your archers up at the bow and prepare to fire at maximum range. Signal the other ships to fire arrows when we do,” Yolanta ordered. He was glad to see the other two ships had kept pace with them, so they could fire their volley of arrows at the same time.
“Sir!”
“We’ll surprise them with our new bows, I think.” Brumbal glanced at Yolanta as the archers stepped forward. Each man carried a new longbow, eight feet long and thicker than a man’s wrist at the center. They were designed to be fired by two men. One man lay on his back with his knees bent and feet in the air while an assistant placed the bow inside a notch fashioned into special sandals worn by the man lying on the ground. The assistant would place an arrow on the bow, aim using a front and rear sight that protruded from the bow’s middle, and then the shooter would pull back on the string with both arms and hold the string close to his face until he released it. The only danger to the man firing the bow was the string hitting his bent knees; he had to fire with his legs almost straight. When fired properly, the bow had an effective range of four hundred legs.
“Yes, we might win this Necklace of Tol before sunset.” Yolanta clapped Brumbal on the back.
“And I’ll sleep two days after to recover from that bit of rowing.” Brumbal winced as he rolled his shoulders back.
Yolanta laughed, not wanting to admit how old that row had left him feeling. Thirty-four years old, and twenty-eight spent at sea. An estate with enough workers to keep him idle, a place where he could retire with his wives and their litter of children, sounded more and more appealing as he leaned into the ache in his back and shoulders.
***
Lancon Koman had not allowed Arken to join the other archers, despite Arken’s protest. Captain Dunn had ordered Koman to run the stern catapult and fire on the pursuing Tookans because Koman was the best catapult marksman on the ship. Asher had insisted that he be allowed to watch the firing of the stern catapult, and Tyo had quickly suggested that Arken stay by Asher to keep him out of trouble, which Koman then ordered. Stationed now on the command deck by the catapult, Arken felt frustrated at being unable to join the archers, but he obeyed Koman’s orders.
“The Tookans are rowing faster than us,” Asher said as he and Arken stood by the stern catapult awaiting orders.
“You’re right,” Arken agreed. “Those three ships are only four hundred legs away. At least we’re keeping ahead of those others; they’re twice as far behind.” Black smoke billowed in the distance from the ships already destroyed in the earlier battle. Mercifully, the screams had finally stopped.
Arken shuddered. So many mornings of their SeaJourney had held the same beautiful sunrise, the view of an emerald-green jungle with mist rising to the sky, the sounds of birds and animals heard faintly beneath the ship’s happy noises of greeting the day. Yet today, war had intruded on this beauty and threatened to end their lives and the beauty of all mornings to come.
“My sister’s ship is very fast.” Asher pointed south. Princess Sharmane’s sh
ip was already far past the river mouth ahead of them. Arken wondered if Asher wished he’d gone with the princess.
“Shh, Asher, the captains are discussing strategy. Let’s listen to their plans; we might learn something,” Arken whispered. They could easily hear the captains since they stood only a few legs from the catapult.
“Those three Tookan vessels closest to us are barely faster than us rowing, so we’re safely out of their bow range for now,” Captain Dunn said as he stared at the enemy ships. Captain Rallat stood next to him. Rallat’s lips squeezed together in a thin line of anxiety, which emphasized the angles of his long, lean face and nose. His long, white- and black-streaked hair and beard flowed over the collar of his dark green Tolarian tunic.
“What is the range of your stern catapult?”
“Almost that of a longbow. I’ll show you.” Captain Dunn rolled like a bear walking on his hind legs to the catapult. “It’s a new design. Show him, Lancon Koman.”
“Sir!” Koman jumped out of the sighting seat and saluted. “The new catapult is designed with a longer arm, a heavier counterweight, and we’re using a smaller bomb. All these changes add to the range.”
Asher walked away from the catapult until he stood before the three officers. “Captain Rallat?”
Arken wondered if Asher had gone crazy, intruding on their meeting like this.
“Yes?”
“I’ve heard my father mention your name, but I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Your father?”
“King Ondor d’Will.” Asher looked up calmly. Arken was amazed that Asher was now revealing his identity to the entire ship, but he knew that Asher must have a good reason for doing so now.
“Your Majesty!” Rallat dropped to one knee.
“Arrows! They’ve fired arrows!” the lookout screamed as Dunn and Koman were about to drop to one knee as well.
A black cloud of arrows erupted from the nearest of the three pirate ships.
“Take cover!” the captain yelled. “Cadets, down the stairs and into the galley.”
“Not you two.” Lancon Koman grabbed both boys as they turned for the galley stairs. “Too far, you’ll never make it.”
Arken looked up at the black cloud of arrows that was still climbing into the sky. Koman is right, thought Arken, as the officer tossed him and Asher under the raised, circular walkway that ran around the catapult. But Arken had his bow over his shoulder. It caught something on the walkway’s underside, so he couldn’t squeeze back very far. He strained, getting his arms and nose barely under the walkway.
The tops of their heads were almost touching as he and Asher lay head to head under the walkway and looked out sideways at the deck. The sailors in the catapult crew took shelter beneath a wooden barricade designed to protect them. They saw Lancon Koman’s feet jump from the deck and heard him vault into the catapult sighting seat above them. The seat was surrounded by a circle of wood like a thick barrel. They heard the protective lid slam shut as Koman pulled it over his head.
An arrow pierced the deck with a loud crack not more than five fingers from Arken’s nose. He blinked in astonishment as the arrow’s shaft vibrated from the impact. Another arrow landed a leg farther away from the first, followed by a hundred more slamming down like rocks in a landslide. They made a ripping noise as they buried their arrowheads into the deck. Despite the resistance of his bow, Arken squeezed deeper under the walkway, trying to make his body smaller.
Screams erupted as the shower of arrows ended.
“Help me!” a boy pleaded. Arken waited until no more arrows hit the deck, and then he crawled out and jumped up to see if any more arrows were on their way. When he saw it was clear, he looked back to the cries for help. His friend Jalar had hidden under the shield rack near the mast instead of running into the galley below decks. But his leg hadn’t fit beneath the shields, and an arrow had plunged through his right calf, pinning him to the deck. He screamed for help in one long, continuous wail.
Arken started to run to his aid when the catapultist’s lid popped open, and Lancon Koman’s head emerged to look down the sights.
“Light the fuse, light the fuse. Enemy in range.”
Arken stopped, and then sprinted for his post as the fuse lighter staggered forward from the shelter, the sputtering candle in his hands. His movements seemed odd, and then Arken saw the feathers of an abnormally thick and long arrow protruding three feet above the man’s left shoulder near his neck. The arrow had penetrated the wood roof of the shelter and found a seam in the man’s armor.
The sailor started to fall to the deck. Arken dove forward and grabbed the candle as the sailor spun and fell to his back. The man groaned, his mouth dropped open, and then his head fell back to the deck. His eyes rolled up until the pupils disappeared below his upper lids, leaving his still open eyes entirely white. He took one last breath and lay still.
Arken stared at the man. He had never seen anyone die.
“I have the candle, sir,” Arken said when he regained his wits.
“Light the fuse! Light it now!” Lancon Koman yelled.
“Yes, sir.” Arken turned to look at the catapult. “Where, sir?”
“The fuse on the red bomb, in the basket!” Koman pointed frantically behind him.
“Sir!” Arken walked along the catapult arm until he spied the red bomb, setting the fuse up in the leather web basket. He held the flame to the cloth fuse. Sparks jumped as the fuse lit.
“Lit!” Arken screamed.
“Stand clear!”
Arken jumped from the catapult circle, the frame that held the catapult and rotated in any direction to keep the catapult level.
“Clear!” he shouted as he landed on the walkway, the solid semicircle of decking surrounding the catapult that he and Asher had taken shelter under.
“Aiming!” Lancon Koman yelled. The stern of the Sea Nymph rose on a wave. As the deck tipped, the catapult stayed level. Koman’s seat was near the back of the catapult, so he appeared to rise in the air as though he rode some crazed harse that twisted and plunged. But instead of trying to dislodge Koman, the catapult kept Lancon motionless as the ship moved around the moving frame. The ship reached the wave top and leveled out, and the catapult circle came flat with the deck.
“Firing!” Lancon Koman released the lever. The catapult arm snapped forward, making Arken duck away reflexively. The arm made a whooshing sound as it whipped the basket holding the bomb. Then the arm hammered into the stop while the bomb flew upward. White smoke arced in a blur from the fuse as the bomb climbed into the sky. Arken held his breath as he watched the white smoke drop, drop, and hit the far right Tookan ship directly in its center.
“Hit!” Koman screamed. “Hit, by Kal!”
Flames erupted from the pirate ship’s rowing pit, and soon burning pirates could be heard screaming in pain from across the water.
“Dead center in the rowing pit! Even with plenty of sand, they’ll have trouble fighting that fire. It’s down in the hull,” Koman shouted in celebration. He raised himself from the sighting box and grabbed the lighting candle from Arken’s hand. “Good job, Arken. I’ll take this.” He placed the flickering candle in the catapult rack.
***
“Blast!” Yolanta pounded his fist into the railing. “How can they be so lucky? Three of my ships on fire and this small Lantish boat isn’t even scratched?”
“They have excellent catapult crews,” Brumbal said. “And enough shelter to protect most of their crew from our arrows.”
“Just my luck.” Yolanta ran his massive hand through hair slick with sweat. “So now it’s this ship, our other small pursuit ship, and the Reaper standing out to sea and running parallel to us who are left to crush this enemy, while our other two ships are out of sight chasing the princess?”
“Sir,” Brumbal said.
“We’ll run the enemy aground then, so we can get the treasure,” Yolanta promised. “I swear it. Draw close to the pursuit ship still with us, and tel
l them to fire another volley of arrows. Afterward they should pull back while we return to the Reaper. And raise signal flags to tell the Reaper to prepare for us to board. Once we do, we can load the Reaper’s catapults with Mork’s fire. Then we’ll attack with arrows from these two ships and Mork’s fire from the Reaper and see if we’re better shots than them.”
“Yes, sir.” Brumbal lumbered off to carry out his orders.
Yolanta watched the Lantish vessel they pursued and wondered what they would do next. He couldn’t believe this small Lantish jat had managed to hit one of his ships. His respect for the Lantish was growing.
***
“Let’s watch their ship burn.” Asher grabbed Arken, and they walked toward the stern railing to watch the fire on the Tookan ship. But they stopped at a grim sight. All the Lantish and Tolarian archers that had been waiting to fire by the railing were now dead on the deck in a pool of blood. The scent of blood almost overwhelmed Arken.
“Arken, that would have been you if Lancon Koman hadn’t insisted you stay with him,” Asher said in a whisper.
“I know,” Arken replied. “Lancon Koman saved my life.”
Captain Dunn walked over to the archer’s bodies and looked down at them. “Look at these long arrows, Rallat, they must be using bows at least eight feet tall!”
“How do they fire them?” Captain Rallat asked.
“I’ve no idea,” Captain Dunn said.
“The archers lie on their backs and push on the bow with their legs,” Asher interrupted. “My father said the Amarrats invented that recently.”
“And now it’s been given to our hated enemy!” Captain Dunn touched his chin and appeared lost in thought for a moment before saying, “Not good.”
“Yes, but it appears your catapult’s range is a surprise to them as well!” Rallat said.
“I wish I’d scared them off before this slaughter.” Dunn waved his arm around the deck. “We need to clean up the dead.”
“You did it, Arken. You lit the candle and helped stop that pirate ship!” Asher congratulated him as the two boys stepped back to the catapult. “Nice work filling in for the candle man!” Asher added.
