Suddenly a black speck appeared in the image, and Brannon rushed to stand beside the table.
“There!” he said, pointing. “Bring the hawk in closer.”
Hawkeye twitched, and her eyes fluttered as she mentally commanded the hawk into a dive. Brannon watched with growing anticipation as the ship came into view.
“They’re not flying a Jolly Roger,” said Brannon’s general.
“They aren’t going to advertise that they are pirates in elven waters,” said Brannon with disdain. “Weaver, is this the ship that you saw?”
The old silver-haired elf put on thick, enchanted spectacles and cocked his head back. “Yes, that is it.”
“How far away are we?”
“Ten miles, Sire,” said Illindell.
Brannon turned to Rye-Rye and Dingleberry. “You know what to do.”
“Aye-Aye, Cap-Cap!” said Rye-Rye, and she gave Tuck the signal.
“Tell the ventus domini to speed up. I want that ship in my sights in ten minutes,” Brannon told the general.
“As you wish, Sire.”
“We’re on in three-three, two-two, one-one…” said Dingleberry before pointing at Rye-Rye.
“Well folks, it looks like the trail-trail has run dry,” Rye-Rye began.
Behind him, Brannon tried to act frustrated as he stared at the image of the clear ocean in the swirling dome.
***
“They aren’t even close,” said Captain Ripps with a laugh as he clicked off the crystal projector. “See, Dyr, nothing to worry about.”
“I don’t trust that fairy bullshit,” said Dyr. “And neither should you. I told you that I saw them in a dream, and they were getting closer.”
At the mention of a dream, Captain Ripps gulped and hid his face by turning to the bar and pouring himself a glass of rum. His hand shook as he brought the glass to his lips, which caused the ice cubes from the enchanted cold box to jingle. He looked to Dyr again and saw that the old wizard knew his fears.
“More nightmares?”
“Yes,” said Ripps.
“Have you been taking the—”
“Yes, I’ve been taking the tonic, and I’ve hung your blasted garlic, and your dreamcatcher, but nothing works.”
“Was it the vine monster again?”
Ripps nodded gravely.
“It is the elf prince,” said Dyr. “He is coming for his friends.”
“Let them come. I’ve got you.”
“And he will have many domini, and they will be powerful, I have no doubt. I believe now that what you have been experiencing is the effect of a somnium dominus.”
“A dream master,” said Ripps in a low, haunted voice. He laughed weakly. “Oh, good, I thought that perhaps it was a premonition.”
“It may be, if you underestimate our opponents.”
“Fine then, Dyr. Queen’s sake, man, what do you suggest?”
“Get rid of the champions and the ice elf. Put them on a boat and send them off.”
“What? Just like that?”
Dyr shrugged. “That is my council.”
“You’re mad. A pirate does not—”
“All due respect, Captain, but you are not a pirate. You have been on a fust farm smoking grass with dippies for thirty years.”
“How dare you? Why, in my day I was the best swordsman on the, well, on one sea anyway. And I have grown the largest fust empire in Fallacetine.”
“I know of your accolades, Captain. But you have not grown rich, and to such a ripe old age by being stupid, and in twenty years, I have never steered you wrong.”
The captain strode up to his friend and leveled a dangerous gaze at the taller man. “Captain B Ripps does not run from a fight, and he sure as hell does not hand over a prize such as the Champions of the Dragon because of a bad dream or two.”
“No?” said Dyr, cocking his brow. “Then what does he do?”
The captain moved to the window and laced his hands behind his back. “Pirate Captain B Ripps destroys his opponents.”
“If that is your decision, I will stand by you as I always have. But we need to hit first, and we need to hit hard. If those domini get anywhere near us, we’re doomed.”
“What do you have in mind?”
Dyr smiled. “I have developed a new weapon that I believe you will enjoy.”
“Go on.”
“As you know, I have trapped half a dozen sharks for research and spell ingredients. But it occurred to me that they could be used as bombs. I can easily control them with a spell, and if we strap explosives on them, well…you get the idea.”
“Diabolical,” said Ripps with a growing grin.
“Thank you, Captain.”
***
“Pirate ship, ho!” yelled an elf in the crow’s nest of the Regina Maris as he waved down at Brannon and pointed.
“What did he just call me?” said Brannon.
“It is a human sailor’s term, Sire. Would you like me to tell them to stop saying it?”
“What? No, no, of course not.”
“Should I order everyone to their stations?”
“Yes, and have the domini join me on the upper deck.”
Brannon watched the general as he barked his orders, and everyone scurried to their stations. Wizard bane arrows and harpoons were set, and the dozens of domini rushed up from belowdeck. Brannon squeezed the sack of seeds in his pocket absently with one hand and stroked the hilt of his elven sword with the other. He was eager to face the captain who had nearly made them all mindless slaves, but he knew that he had to be careful. For Ripps had the other champions, and Brannon had no doubt he would use them to his advantage.
“Domini,” he said as he approached the group on the upper deck. “We will be upon the Black Tooth in less than ten minutes. Understand this, we are here to retrieve the other champions and Sir Eldrick’s daughter. Do not use excessive force unless I say so. I suspect that once Captain Ripps sees what he is up against, he will want to negotiate a release. Now—”
An explosion on a nearby ship silenced Brannon, and everyone looked in shock and horror as another explosion sent burning elves flying from the deck.
“Lookouts, report!” Brannon cried.
“It’s…they’re sharks, sire,” yelled one of the elves from a crow’s nest.
“Sharks?”
“They are being controlled by a powerful spell,” said Hawkeye as her eyes glazed over.
“But how in the hells are they exploding?” Brannon asked.
Another shark hit the other ship, tearing a gaping hole in the hull.
“Dammit, get them under control!” Brannon told Hawkeye.
“Working on it,” said the bestia dominus.
Brannon leaned over the rail and searched the waters. To his horror, two fins were speeding toward his ship.
“Hawkeye…”
The sharks closed in; fifty yards, forty yards, thirty…
“Got ‘em,” said Hawkeye, and the fins changed direction.
“Good job,” said Brannon breathlessly. “But do not send them back to the pirate ship. We cannot risk injuring Murland and the others.”
Brannon surveyed the damage to the other two ships with a pang of guilt. To the right, the Spargo was listing badly, and smoke billowed from the deck. The Fluctus was better off, and the aqua domini on board had managed to stop the influx of sea water. But holding back the ocean was not easy work, and they would never make it back to Halala in their condition.
“We need to evacuate the Spargo,” said the general.
“No, we’re not losing the ships,” said Brannon, and he walked to the rail and dropped a handful of seeds overboard. They hit the water and disappeared, but a moment later, a writhing ball of seaweed vines emerged like an aquatic beast. He mentally guided the vines, searching like fingers the side of the Spargo. He found the holes, and with a force of will caused the vines to expand until they had stopped the influx of water completely. He spread the vines around the hull as the
ship righted itself.
Brannon severed his connection with the vines and staggered. The general caught him and helped him to stand.
“Sire, you’re bleeding,” said the captain, handing him a handkerchief.
Warmth spread across Brannon’s upper lip, and he touched it with his fingers. There was blood, but it was not much. He wiped his nose—ignoring the scowl of his healer—and walked to the other side of the ship to focus on the Fluctus.
“Sire, you are pushing yourself too hard,” said the healer, who was hot on Brannon’s heals. “A bloody nose is the first sign of—”
“You are not a dominus. Don’t tell me the dangers of my craft.”
Brannon dropped another handful of seeds and went about repairing the Fluctus. When he finished, he wiped his nose, this time coming back with much more blood. He felt dizzy, but he disregarded his lightheadedness, focusing instead on the approaching pirate ship.
“Once they are in range,” said the general, “we should hit them with wizard bane, just in case they have a wizard onboard.”
“There is a wizard on board, a very powerful wizard,” said Brannon. “We encountered him on the shores of the Northern Barrens. But I do not want to risk exposing Murland to wizard bane, so only bombard them enough to destroy any wards that are about the ship.”
The general bowed and began bellowing commands to the gunners. Three ships steered portside as the starboard cannons were wheeled into the gun ports. Cannon fire erupted from the Black Tooth, but they were not yet in range, and the projectiles splashed into the ocean thirty yards from the elven ships.
Unhindered by damages and propelled at breakneck speed by the winds of the ventus domini, the Regina Maris broke away from the other two ships and surged toward the Black Tooth.
“Fire!” bellowed the general, and six cannons boomed.
Two missed, but the other four found their mark and exploded against the shield spells and wards surrounding the ship. The elves cheered, and another cannon ball was sent across the choppy sea to test the remaining defenses. The cannonball sailed toward the ship unhindered and exploded against the side. A shimmering globe of energy surrounding the Black Tooth sparked and fizzled and died with a flash.
“Bring us broadside!” Brannon ordered the wheelman, and to the surprise of the general, he ran to the starboard side and leapt into the ocean.
Brannon clutched his seed pouch to his chest as he dove into the water. He sunk deep as the Regina Maris sped by. With a force of will, he urged the vines to grow. They wrapped around his chest and down his arms and legs, thickening and extending as he began to float to the top. Brannon emerged and shot an appendage toward his ship, which was less than fifty feet away. The vine appendage reached the ship and wrapped around the rail. As the line became taut, Brannon was yanked forward. He leaned back, keeping the vines extending from his legs firm, and was soon skidding across the water, being pulled along at breakneck speeds by the Regina Maris.
They were quickly approaching the Black Tooth, whose cannons were surely primed to fire as they came amidships. But Brannon left that concern to the domini. He released the rail and lashed out with his hundreds of appendages as he hit the aft rail of the Black Tooth. The pirate ship fired as the Regina Maris sailed past, but the cannons were redirected by aqua, canetis, and ventus domini.
Brannon climbed aboard the pirate ship like a one-hundred-legged spider, his vine appendages lashing out and wrapping themselves around the pirates as they tried to hack and slash the vines. But it was no use, Brannon was in a rage. He poured all his anguish, sorrow, and anger into his magic. He thought of Valkimir, and tears came to his eyes as he smothered the pirates and strung them upside down.
Out of the corner of his eye, he barely registered a dark figure rushing up from belowdeck. Brannon turned his attention to the man, realizing that it was Ripps’s dark wizard, but too late. The wizard’s wand flared, and a fire spell hit a strand of vines. Snaking flames engulfed the seaweed and traveled toward Brannon, but he had no time to retaliate. The serpentine flames surged up the vines toward him, and he cried out. Suddenly a great wave crashed onto the ship, putting out the flames and sending Brannon sliding across the deck.
He severed his connection with the vines, struggling to get to his feet. Blood dripped from his eyes, ears, and nose. His head spun. All around him, chaos ensued as the ventus domini floated from the Regina Maris and landed on the deck of the Black Tooth. They brought with them elven swordsmen, and soon a bloody battle was underway. Brannon clutched the last of his seeds and drew his elven blade. He willed the seed to grow, and writhing vines wrapped themselves around his left fist.
The dark wizard was locked in combat with half a dozen domini who conjured wind, water, and fire. Illindell was there as well, easily manipulating the pirates as they came at him. They would charge, cutlasses gleaming, but then suddenly change direction and leap off the side of the ship.
Brannon looked to the door leading belowdeck, which was to his right on the main deck. Murland and the others were down there somewhere. He forced his body to move, fighting the fatigue of overexertion. He had been pushing it too far lately, he knew. But never had he wielded such terrible power. Indeed, the only other flora dominus he had ever seen who was able to create a vine monster was the late Gareen Thuum, and he was a legend.
Two pirates charged up the stairs as Brannon began down. The closest lunged with his cutlass, meaning to eviscerate him. Brannon slapped the attack aside with his own sword and punched out with his left fist. The vines surrounding his fist surged forth and wrapped around the pirate’s neck. His comrade tried to get around him and strike at Brannon, but with a yank and a flexing of vine, Brannon sent them both tumbling over the rail.
He rushed down, retracting his vine appendage as he went, when suddenly Captain Ripps emerged from the hatch leading belowdeck. Brannon stopped dead, for the captain had a dagger to Gibrig’s throat.
“We’re here live-live,” said Rye-Rye as he, Dingleberry, and Tuck floated by on nearly invisible wings. They turned so that Brannon would be in the frame. “Prince Brannon, the folks at home-home are dying to know-know. How will you save Gibrig?”
“Not now, Rye-Rye!” said Brannon.
“Drop your weapons, or the dwarf gets it!” Captain Ripps commanded the elves.
They looked to Brannon, who looked to Gibrig, who said, “Thanks for not calling me a human,” to the captain.
“You have been beaten,” said Brannon. “Your ship is surrounded, and half of your men have jumped ship. Tell your remaining men to drop their weapons, and I shall spare your life.”
Captain Ripps glanced around, and his mustache twitched. “I don’t think you understand what a disadvantage you have. If I command it, your friends belowdeck will die. With a flick of my wrist, the dwarf will die.”
Brannon stepped forward, noticing Gibrig’s shield fifteen feet to the right. It was still lodged halfway in the deck where the dwarf must have dropped it. The domini watched the dark wizard warily, and the elven soldiers eyed the pirates across from them.
“Then we are at an impasse,” said Brannon, taking another step, which brought him to within ten feet. “You are a businessman. Surely you would rather make a deal that is beneficial to you, rather than die for no good reason.”
“There is nothing more I would like to do than slit his and the other little pigs’ throats,” said Captain Ripps. “But, I know a good deal when I see one. I tell you what. I’ll release your friends, but I want you in return.”
“Don’t do it, Brannon!” Gibrig cried, and the captain flexed his arm, pressing the blade hard against his throat.
“What’ll it be?” said Ripps.
“You are testing my patience,” said Brannon, taking another step.
“That’s close enough,” said Ripps, pointing the dagger at Brannon.
Gibrig needed no coaxing; as soon as the blade left his neck, he grabbed the arm and bucked his head backward, smashing the captain’
s nose. Brannon shot out his vined fist, and a writhing tendril lashed out and disarmed the captain. Gibrig was already rolling away toward his shield when Brannon struck. The dwarf tore the shield free and, turning, sent it spinning at the captain. The shield took Captain Ripps in the gut like a charging bull, and to everyone’s surprise, he flew high over the rail, cartwheeling and screaming. The onlookers were shocked further when a shark suddenly leapt out of the ocean and chomped the captain in half before exploding into a million pieces. Sushi and gore rained down on the ship as Gibrig retrieved his shield and turned to the pirates, looking quite cross indeed. “Now ye best be droppin’ yer damned weapons!” he yelled.
Dozens of blades hit the deck, and the pirates all raised their hands.
“Oh,” said Gibrig. “Er, thank ye. Ye made right choice.”
The dark wizard, however, did not relinquish his wand. Instead, he aimed it at Brannon, face twisted in a snarl. But before he could release the spell, a wizard bane-tipped arrow hit him in the chest, destroying his protective wards and sinking deep. The wand fizzled out as the wizard drunkenly glanced down at the arrow with a look of surprise.
“Not fair,” he said before falling over.
Brannon raced to Gibrig and hugged him. “Where are the others?”
“Down in the hold. Follow me.”
Chapter 22
The Fools of the Dragon
Murland and the others hung from their chains, waiting anxiously. By the sound of it, the fighting on deck had stopped. The five pirates, each with a crossbow trained on them, stood nervously as well, seemingly not liking the silence. It had been a long time since Captain Ripps grabbed Gibrig and led him up the stairs with a dagger to his throat.
Murland hated feeling so helpless. He had tried to use magic, but Dyr had put some sort of spell on them all, and even Akitla was unable to use her inherent magic.
The Mother of Zuul: Humorous Fantasy (Epic Fallacy Book 4) Page 17
