Magic, Sorcery and Witchcraft: Book One of Marcus Grimm saga

by Stas Borodin

  The captain whistled again. The oars hit the water and the pentera jerked back, dropping the remains of the ship from its ram. Picking up speed, we slid in the opposite direction.

  For a moment, Ice lost his balance and grabbed the edge of the shield. “Did you see that?” His eyes sparkled. “Bang and it’s gone!”

  Right before my eyes, the enemy vessel disappeared under the water, leaving only chips, garbage and yelling sailors clinging to the wreckage bobbing on the surface.

  “Straight to the sea bottom!” Ice said, peering into the black foamy vortex. “Every single one of them.”

  “The oarsmen are usually chained to the benches,” the crossbowman said. “Yet not many of them know how to swim.”

  “Poor sods.” Ice frowned. “Such a terrible death!”

  I bit my lip. It turned out that along with the pirates we would be killing scores of innocent men.

  Meanwhile, the oars hit the water once again, and Punisher, spotting a new victim, lunged forward like an unstoppable hungry shark. The ship went right over the heads bobbing above the water surface. When I looked back, there was no one left. The sea battle was truly horrible. Hundreds of people died in an instant without the slightest chance of escaping their terrible fate.

  Our next target was a large ship with three rows of oars. It tried to dodge our attack but crashed into another vessel anchored nearby. The oars on the left side cracked, turning to splinters, and the two ships collided, drifting slowly toward the shore, trapped in a tangle of torn rigging and flapping sails.

  The Punisher rammed it right down the middle. The blow was so strong that Ice and I lost our footing. By the time we got to our feet, everything was over. The pentera slid back, and the pirate galley, with a huge hole in its side, sank quickly.

  The captain blew his whistle and pointed his finger to the right, warning the crew about something. A lean war galley shot from behind the wreckage, targeting our left side. However, it was a futile attempt; the ship was too small to be a real threat.

  “Get to work, lads!” the sergeant barked.

  The crossbows clicked and heavy bolts whistled through the air, killing everyone on the upper deck. One bolt pierced the helmsman’s head, pinning him to the rudder. With amazing clarity I could see his bulging eyes rolling and his bare legs kicking.

  The oars, like the limbs of some grotesque upturned bug, hung motionless in the air, dripping water. The pentera slid gracefully back, casually tearing the smaller ship apart.

  Captain Gormant attacked the enemy time and time again. The Punisher crossed the bay, leaving wreckage and death in its wake.

  “Another half an hour and they will be done for!” Ice said.

  This time we spotted a beautiful black galley, sneaking along the coastline.

  “What a beauty!” one of the crossbowmen sighed. “Too bad we have to sink her too.”

  Suddenly, as if in response to his words, the pentera shuddered. A huge stone, propelled from the shore, hit The Punisher’s prow, crumpling armour and showering us with wooden chips and stone pieces.

  “Catapults on the bank!” the lookout cried. “Fall back!”

  The captain blew his whistle. The oars hit the water in unison, bringing the ship to a halt. The drums below the deck roared, and a moment later we slid in the opposite direction.

  Huge spinning stones fell around us like hail, making a loud noise and splashing water. The sight was frightening, but they did no more damage.

  “Their aim is off,” the sergeant said. “Thank gods they can’t see us from the shore!”

  A few minutes later, the falling stones were left far behind. The Punisher stopped at a safe distance from the bank, watching the remaining pirates escape.

  “Well,” I sighed. “This time our plan proved to be too simple.”

  “But it worked.” Ice shrugged. “Just take a look at that!”

  Indeed, as far as I could see, the whole surface of the bay was littered with sinking ships and men clinging to the floating debris.

  Meanwhile, the pentera made a turn and we saw a small group of pirate ships making their way out of the harbour. The oars foamed the water once again, propelling Punisher forward. The pirates saw our manoeuvre and immediately rushed to the shore. Their oars flashed like crazy, but this race they were bound to lose.

  “A few more minutes,” the sergeant said, judging the distance between the ships. “Brace yourselves, lads, we’ll hit them hard!”

  Instead, we were hit hard. A stone the size of a calf hit the second mast, sending the crossbowmen flying. With a deafening crack, the mast fell, breaking the bulwarks and crushing marines on the upper deck.

  The stones fell one after another, spraying our faces with salty sea water. One of them struck the hull, breaking a dozen oars to splinters. Right away, the pentera lost its speed and strayed off course.

  The captain’s whistle sounded once again. The ship turned and ran away from the shore. Ice and I looked spellbound at the rocks flying by, waiting for a new impact.

  Cheering and hooting sounded on the pirate ships.

  “That was scary!” I cried, clutching the shield rim with all my might. “It flew right above my head!”

  “Good thing you left your Amrus hat at home!” Ice laughed, but his eyes were wide and his cheeks flushed.

  The Punisher made a new turn and sailed toward the entrance to the harbour. The silhouettes of the enemy ships were getting smaller with each passing minute, and the emerald skyline, framed by the high cliffs, was getting closer with every stroke of oars.

  “Chain!” the lookout yelled. “Right ahead of us!”

  I looked forward and saw a thick chain blocking the exit to the open sea. The Punisher stopped, ready for new surprises.

  Ice and I hurriedly descended from the mast and froze awestruck, looking at the damage done by the direct hit from the catapult. Bits of stone and wooden chips crunched underfoot, the bulwarks were smashed to pieces, and a gaping hole in the floor revealed the bloodied rowing deck, strewn with mutilated corpses and crushed benches.

  “Such a clean cut!” Ice whistled. “Just like a saw!”

  “Yes, two stones at the same time.” Bevid scratched his bleeding nose thoughtfully. “We were lucky the mast went right overboard and we escaped almost unscathed.”

  Ice and I looked at each other puzzled.

  “Shit,” the captain spat, glaring at the chain. “Shit, shit, shit!”

  “You are damn right,” Bevid frowned. “And this time balls deep!”

  The massive black chain crossed the water expanse from shore to shore, its middle almost touching the waves.

  “It doesn’t look like a serious obstacle to me,” Ice said. “We could tear it apart with ease if we rammed it at full speed.”

  “Nah.” Bevid shook his head. “This black metal here is genuine Tevalian steel. Really tough sonofabitch. If we try something foolish, they’ll trip us over or cut us in half like they did to the Leviathan at the siege of Mino.”

  Ice grinned. “Worry not, my friends, just get this wizard closer to the chain and I’ll show you a thing or two!”

  I looked at my friend thoughtfully. Tevalian steel was famous for its extreme toughness and ability to withstand tremendous amounts of heat.

  “It won’t work, Ice,” I said. “These black chains were once used to trap fire-breathing dragons.”

  Ice laughed nervously. “Well, I’m no dragon. Unfortunately. Dammit!”

  In silence, we watched the waves roll over the massive links, the chain rocking gently from side to side.

  Captain Gormant broke the uneasy silence. “There is no option but to send a squad of marines to the shore. We will capture the chain-raising mechanism and smash it to pieces.”

  “Sounds like a good plan!” Bevid perked up.

  The plan was good, but we weren’t allowed to approach the shore. We were chased away by the hail of falling stones and clay pots filled with stinking flammable liquid. The Punisher retrea
ted hastily, spots of burning oil still spreading on the water’s surface.

  “I won’t be surprised if they send fireships next,” snorted Bevid.

  The first mate was right. A quarter of an hour later, we saw a small white cloud sailing in our direction.

  “Dammit!” Ice grunted. “What now?”

  I saw a rag-tag bunch of row-boats loaded with sacks, barrels and crates.

  “They are unmanned,” the captain said. “Fucking cowards!”

  The whistle sounded and the oars hit the water, propelling The Punisher forward, right through the gap between the approaching fireships. Hidden by the smoke, the unmanned branders drifted further toward the black chain.

  “Perhaps they’ll blow the damn thing to pieces,” said Ice hopefully.

  Bevid shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

  Pulled by the current, the flotilla of fireships was moving pretty fast. Close to the exit from the bay, the boats collided with each other, turning into one huge smouldering island.

  The first ship flared on the far right, starting a chain of mighty explosions. The pentera shuddered from the keel to the very top of the mast. I saw a twisting fiery whirlwind rising to the skies; it was so bright it hurt my eyes. The hair on our heads cracked from the unbearable heat and the air was suddenly thick and bitter.

  “I’ll be damned!” Bevid coughed, covering his watering eyes with his hand. “This time they are serious!”

  “Gods!” I exhaled, spitting out salty flakes of ash.

  A huge explosion scattered the fleet like a heap of dry leaves, leaving only the debris and blackened ships’ skeletons smouldering on the water’s surface. I shuddered, imagining what would have happened to us if we hadn’t managed to avoid the collision.

  “I hate this smell!” Ice’s face and hair were covered with black soot. “And I need a bath!”

  Bevid grinned. “I’m afraid the bath has to wait, Master Wizard. There is more shit coming our way!”

  The first mate was right once again. Another fireship appeared not half an hour later. This time it was a heavily loaded trader with iron-bound prow. I saw a small crew busy setting the sails and an armoured helmsman giving orders.

  “So, you want to play with me?” Captain Gormant bared his teeth. “Let’s play then!”

  Ice and I looked at each other.

  “To battle stations!” Bevid roared.

  The marines aimed their ballistae and scorpions at the approaching ship.

  “Bring down the sail and kill the helmsman,” Bevid ordered. “Fire when ready!”

  Stones and arrows turned the sail into shreds in a matter of seconds. The oars hit the water, pushing The Punisher back, increasing the distance between the ships. However, the fireship remained on its course, pulled forward by the strong current.

  The captain’s whistle gave a new order. The pentera turned deftly and aimed its ram at the pursuer.

  “Follow the coast,” the captain shouted. “And keep your distance from the damn thing!”

  “Prepare the pumps and fire extinguishers,” Bevid ordered calmly.

  The sailors took up the pumps, sprinkling the deck with seawater.

  “Fifty gold pieces to the man who kills the helmsman!” roared the captain, looking at the approaching fireship. “Just shoot him, goddammit!”

  I stepped up to a scorpion and laid my hands on the polished handles. The heavy contraption turned easily on well-oiled hinges.

  “Can I?” I asked the marine.

  “Good luck, Master Wizard!” The marine raised his clenched fist. “I’ll pray for you!”

  The weapon was cocked and ready to shoot. I looked over the arrow’s fetching at the bobbing fireship, carefully adjusting my aim. The helmsman remained unseen, well covered by the man-tall rectangular shields.

  “Damn cowards!” Bevid growled. “This time they’re taking no chances!”

  “Do it, brother,” Ice whispered in my ear. “Just kill that piece of dung!”

  “Right.” I took a deep breath, gripping the handles. The trigger gently clicked, the string hummed, and the scorpion shuddered. In a heartbeat the long arrow crossed the gap between the ships and disappeared, piercing another hole in the ragged flapping sails. The fireship suddenly lurched to the left and began to turn.

  The whistle sounded and The Punisher slid to the right, heading toward the shore. The oars tore the water furiously, splashing us with cold salty water.

  The explosion was terrible. A wave of hot air hit us like a whip, nearly knocking me off my feet. My ears rang and my teeth chattered like castanets. I opened my mouth wide and coughed, the air thick and bitter on my tongue.

  A moment later, a shower of water, dead fish and smoking wreckage fell from the sky. The brander was gone, as if it had never existed.

  “That was close!” Bevid cried, shaking his head from side to side. His ears were bleeding.

  The pentera froze fifty feet from the shore. Scorpions and ballistae spit iron, aiming at the thick coastal bushes.

  “Stop shooting!” snapped the captain. “Save your arrows, lads, you might need them pretty soon.”

  The ship moved forward, staying close to the steep rocky slope. Time after time, Bevid checked the water depth with a line. His face looked tense, his cheeks streaked with drying blood.

  “We’ll slip right under their noses.” The captain pointed to the overhanging tree branches. “At this distance their catapults are no threat to us, but we can easily kill their crews with our crossbows and scorpions.”

  Like a prowling predator, Punisher slid forward, well hidden by the shadow of the high slope.

  “Nice shot, buddy!” Ice slapped me happily on the back. “We were lucky once again!”

  “T-s-s-s,” the captain hissed, pointing upward with his finger. “Listen!”

  I heard voices. Very close. The pentera stopped, and we froze, listening tensely. There were three or four voices, speaking in a dialect unknown to me.

  The lookout hurriedly descended from the mast and approached the captain. “Ten catapults directly above us,” he reported in a hushed voice. “Our mast is a bit lower than the cliff edge, but we could be discovered at any moment.”

  “Understood. Get ready to—” the captain started, but Ice grabbed him by the arm.

  “I would like to take a look at those catapults,” he said, grinning mischievously.

  The captain looked at the young wizard and nodded slowly. “Well, if you must.”

  Ice nodded, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

  “I’m going with you!” I said quickly.

  From the top of the mast I could see the catapults clearly. They were standing in two neat rows only a few feet away from the cliff edge. Dozens of unarmed men were busy unloading stone balls and wooden barrels from carts. A little further on, I saw a squad of heavily armed soldiers, guarding the battery from the shore. A tall watchtower, with a watchman standing at the top, loomed menacingly above our heads.

  “Just look at them,” Ice whispered in my ear. “They look like a proper army!”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “We made a mistake going against them with just one ship.”

  Ice squeezed the Tear of Heart in his fist. “Just give me a second,” he said, breathing slowly. “Just let me warm up a bit and I’ll turn them all to heaps of ashes!”

  The pirate watchman looked down from his tower and yelped with surprise when he saw our ship just a few feet away. The soldiers scrambled to their feet immediately and rushed in our direction. Some of them were armed with heavy crossbows.

  “Come on, Ice!” I shouted. “Do it now!”

  Ice grabbed the mast, straightening to his full height. Smoke streamed from his mouth.

  Two crossbowmen stopped dead at the cliff edge looking at us, rocks and dry leaves tumbling down. Ice swallowed audibly and looked at me as if for support. I nodded, trying to ignore the cocked crossbows.

  The bowstrings tinkled, flame roared, and the bolts turned to ashes in mid
-flight.

  Roaring flames flooded the battery, turning catapults into crackling bonfires and running men into living torches. With a loud crack, the burning tower tipped, throwing the yelling watchman into the fire.

  My friend’s face was badly burned. His lips were shrivelled, revealing his blackened teeth, and his torn throat was dripping some fiery viscous liquid.

  “Ice!” I grabbed him by the shoulders. “Hold on!”

  The wizard turned to me, breathing out flakes of ash.

  “This is bad,” I said, my tears vaporized immediately by the heat.

  Ice coughed once and his body went limp, so incredibly hot and heavy in my arms.

  Chapter 11

  Bevid led a hundred soldiers to the chain that blocked our exit from the harbour. Ice and I stayed on The Punisher, anchored at a safe distance from the coast.

  “How is he?” The captain approached me quietly.

  “Much better,” I said. “He’s healing very quickly. I think he’ll be awake by nightfall.”

  The numerous burns on Ice’s face had healed completely, but the air was still hissing through the hole in his throat.

  “What a terrible wound!” Captain Gormant shook his head. “Poor lad!”

  “He’s asleep now,” I said. “He doesn’t suffer.”

  Four hours later, Ice opened his eyes and smiled weakly. He tried to say something, but could not. I changed the wet towel on his forehead and patted him on the cheek. “Relax, everything will be fine!”

  Ice nodded, dropped his head on the pillow and fell asleep once again.

  It was dark. There was no news about the pirates or Bevid’s squad. The captain decided to move the ship closer to the harbour’s entrance and wait there.

  A dense blanket of clouds blotted out the moon, plunging the world into inky darkness.

  I was lying on the deck next to my friend, listening to his shallow breathing. Thank the gods, there was no more wheezing. Why had Ice suffered so much? Thousands of assumptions swarmed in my head, but I could not find any reasonable explanation. Had he used too much of the raw Mana? Did he lose his focus? Only Ice could answer my questions.