by PT Hylton
Then she turned them both to face the crew.
“Everyone freeze!” she called in a loud voice. “Anyone so much as moves and I chop off her ear, and that’s just for starters.”
The crew stood motionless on the deck, staring at the scene on the prow in disbelief.
For the first time, Abbey noticed Clemens kneeling on the deck near her.
“Nice one, boss!” There was no sarcasm in his voice this time. When he said “boss,” he meant it.
“What are you doing up here, man?” she hissed at him.
He shrugged meekly and gestured to the sword she held at Dahlia’s throat. “I was trying to do that, but I didn’t do a great job.”
Dahlia spoke in a soft voice that showed amazing calm considering her position. "Abbey, it's too late to save your friends at the Storm Wall, but it's not too late to save yourself. The only safe way out of this for you is to put down that sword. I'll let you off the ship, and we can go our separate ways. But if you harm me, these Barskall are going to tear you apart."
Abbey pressed the tip of the blade farther into Dahlia’s skin, and a small trickle of blood ran down. “Yeah, we’re not going to do that whole negotiation thing. Instead, your people are going to get off the ship and my people are getting on.”
Dahlia stiffened. “So that’s your plan? You’re going to steal my ship and leave me on the shore?”
Abbey chuckled. “Uh, no. I’m afraid things aren’t going to end quite that nicely for you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Clemens, how many men do we need to sail this ship?” Abbey asked.
Clemens inspected The Winter Night for a few moments. “Five, plus Olaf and me.”
The crew of The Winter Night was lined up on the main deck. Dustin, Olaf, Fannar, and Viktor were now aboard as well. Olaf and Viktor kept looking at Dustin and Clemens in awe, as if there were having trouble believing the two men were still alive.
Dahlia’s hands were tied and she was sitting on the deck, Fannar’s seax at her throat.
Abbey walked the line, addressing them as she went. “All but five of you are going to leave this ship in a few moments. If any of you give us even a hint of trouble, we’ll kill you. If any of you try to come after us, my Storm Caller will rain down lightning on you and fry you dead. Take this opportunity to save your own life.”
She watched their eyes as she went, looking for the meek ones, the ones who wouldn’t meet her gaze. She looked for fear.
When she’d walked the entire line, she pointed at the ones she wanted. “You, you, you, you, and you. Can you sail?”
The men all nodded.
“Good. Everyone else off.”
None of them moved.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Abbey asked, the frustration clear in her voice.
One of the men spoke up. “No disrespect, ma’am, but the minute we step off this ship you’re going to kill Dahlia. And although she’s a cold bitch, some of us have been working with her for a long time. We’d rather not see that happen.”
Abbey raised an eyebrow. She’d never imagined Dahlia’s crew would be loyal to her, but maybe she should have. After all, the people of Holdgate had practically worshiped her before they learned the truth about the Storm Raiders. As terrible as Dahlia was, there was apparently something about her that inspired devotion.
Abbey looked the man in the eye. “Okay, listen. Dahlia’s staying with us, but if you get off this ship, I promise you she will not die today.”
Still the man hesitated.
“The other option is I kill Dahlia and we fight,” Abbey offered. “As you may have noticed, we have a Storm Caller and I can fly. You haven’t even seen what my other friends can do.” It was a bluff, but she was hoping it would be enough to intimidate this man.
The man stared back at Abbey for a long moment, then nodded. “I trust that you’ll keep your word.”
Abbey smiled. “Good. Now get the hell off my ship.”
The man started walking, and the rest of the crew followed.
As the men filed off the ship, Dustin leaned close to Abbey. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, Dahlia kept me alive, and look how it came back to bite her in the ass. Maybe we should rethink this.”
She shook her head. “I gave my word that Dahlia wouldn’t die this day, and I intend to keep it. Now, come sundown, it could be a different matter. Besides, as long as she doesn’t have a staff and we keep her away from seawater she’s not a threat.”
As soon as the crew was off the ship, Clemens began barking orders at the five who’d stayed behind. To their credit, the men got right to work doing as he asked.
Abbey kicked Dahlia lightly. “You going to tell us anything about what we can expect to encounter out there?”
Dahlia didn’t answer.
“Lovely,” Abbey muttered. She turned to Dustin. “Ready to take your station?”
He smiled and trotted to the front of the ship. He picked up his staff from the deck where it had fallen when Abbey had ripped it from Dahlia's hands. “Nice to have this thing back.”
“I’ll bet,” Abbey agreed. “That other one was so skinny it reminded me of your—”
“Don’t even say it,” Dustin complained. “Besides, what do you know about my…whatever?”
“Some girl in Fannar’s village told me.” Abbey laughed.
Clemens trotted up to her. “We’re ready when you are, boss.”
She grinned. “Okay. Dustin, let’s do it.”
Dustin closed his eyes and wind quickly filled their sail.
The next few hours were spent cruising toward the Storm Wall. Dustin pushed them hard, his concentration so deep he almost seemed to be in a trance as he stood at the prow.
Abbey wondered how far behind the other ships they were. Viktor had said that Holdgate Storm Callers were more accurate than the Barskall variety, which would mean they were more efficient in making a ship go quickly. But by Viktor’s count the Barskall had over a hundred Storm Callers, and even if they were less efficient individually, Abbey bet their ships were moving quite a bit faster than The Winter Night.
Viktor did his part to help, crouched near Dustin on the prow, his hand in the trough of seawater. He was stormcalling too, but rather than trying to speed their ship up, he was trying to slow the others down. He conjured a storm far ahead in hopes it would interfere with the Barskall ships.
At one point, Abbey approached Fannar. “You fought at sea with the Barskall against the stormships, right?”
The man nodded.
“What can you tell us about their methods?”
Fannar thought for a moment. “Their primary tool is proximity. Everything the stormships do depends on a little distance. If the stormship is too close, any magic you Holdgatesmen use against them has the potential of damaging you as well, so their goal is to get in as tight as they can and try to board your ship.”
Abbey nodded toward Dahlia. "I assume you outfitted those new ships of yours with plenty of hooks and ropes?"
The Storm Caller didn’t answer the question, but she did look up at Abbey. “You know, I never thanked you.”
Abbey cocked an eyebrow. “Why should you thank me?”
“For getting rid of Tor. His ego was out of control, and it was beginning to hamper my plans. I would have had to kill him eventually, but you took care of that for me.”
When her surprise subsided, Abbey replied, “Well, for that I can sincerely say you’re welcome. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“Abbey, look!” Clemens called. He was pointing past the bow of the ship to the distant clouds. Though it was only mid-afternoon, the sky was pitch black ahead, except when it occasionally flashed with lightning.
"So that's what a true Storm Caller battle looks like!" Olaf’s voice was filled with wonder.
Dahlia chuckled. "You idiots have no idea of the trouble you're in right now. You are royally screwed. Any rational person would turn this ship around and sail back to Barskall,
yet you're sailing right into the heart of the storm. You're charging into the danger."
“Have you met us, lady?” Olaf asked. “This is kinda what we do.”
Abbey laughed, but Dahlia’s comment had made her consider the truth. They were charging into a fight with twenty-four Barskall warships and one hundred Storm Callers.
Versus what? The Storm Wall’s eighteen stormships, plus Thunderclap?
As much as Abbey hated to admit it, Dahlia was at least partly right.
If they were going to win this thing, they needed help and they needed it fast.
***
Benjamin wasn’t going to throw up again. He promised himself he wasn’t. But the way The Foggy Day was being tossed on the waves sure wasn’t making it easy to keep his vow. The driving rain pelted his face. Water everywhere I look, he thought.
He stumbled to the starboard side of the ship to see how the battle was progressing. Not great.
The Algonian ships were attacking the stormships from one side, and the Barskall fleet was attacking them from the other.
“Niklas!” Captain Syd called. “We need to get in closer to those stormships. We’re not doing any good back here.”
“Aye aye,” the elderly Storm Caller replied.
Benjamin almost felt sorry for the old guy. He’d signed on for a diplomatic mission to the south, not to battle Barskall at the Storm Wall where the action was proving to be too intense for his fading skills. So far he’d managed to protect them well enough from the sea that they hadn’t capsized, but that was about all that could be said for him.
Monika, his young apprentice, stood by his side carefully describing the events he couldn’t see.
Benjamin took a deep breath, hoping the oxygen would help settle his rolling stomach. It didn’t.
He was beginning to think this trip had been a horrible idea.
But what other choice did they have? They were the only ones who knew that Algonian ships carrying Barskall Storm Callers were on their way to attack the Storm Wall. There hadn’t been time to go back to Holdgate to recruit more ships, so the only way they could help was to head to the Storm Wall themselves.
The Foggy Day would not leave the Storm Wall to the mercy of the Barskall, and Benjamin would not leave his daughter to their mercy either.
Syd marched onto the deck and saw him clutching the rail. “How you doing?”
He smiled weakly. “Not great.”
“Join the club. We need a strong wind, and our Storm Caller isn’t making it happen.” Indeed, the wind from the west was exactly the opposite of what they needed.
Jarvi sidled up next to them. “If we can’t get to the battle, perhaps the battle will come to us.”
He pointed west, where one of the large Barskall ships was racing toward them.
“Shit,” Syd muttered. “Well, we wanted a fight. Guess we’re about to be in one.”
As difficult as it was, Benjamin pushed his nausea to the back of his mind. There were a lot of Barskall ships in the battle, enough that he hadn’t been able to get an accurate count. But if The Foggy Day managed to cripple one of them, it would make their voyage here worthwhile.
“Archers to port!” Syd called. “Strong winds out of the west, so compensate accordingly.”
Twenty men and women with bows lined up along the port rail and nocked their arrows. It was a miracle they had even brought their bows aboard since they’d been traveling south, but Syd was a stickler for being prepared for all situations—something she had gotten from Captain Roy.
“Draw!” Syd yelled, and twenty bowstrings went taut. “Fire!”
The archers let fly, and twenty arrows sailed through the air. Considering the strong wind and rain their shots were impressive, with a good half of them hitting the approaching ship.
“Again,” Syd called.
The archers manage to loose three more volleys before the Barskall ship reached them. Then hooks flew at The Foggy Day’s rail, tossed by the waiting Barskall warriors.
Benjamin had never faced a Barskall before, though he’d spent the last fifteen years in Holdgate hearing about them. From this distance they just looked like normal men.
Sailors hacked at the ropes now attached to their ship, but there were too many of them. The archers continued to pepper the enemy ship with arrows, punishing any warrior foolish enough to catch their attention.
Benjamin conjured fireballs and threw them at the enemy ship. A few hit warriors, but the powerful rain mostly extinguished them before they did any real damage.
“They’ll wait until they board to drink their seiderdrek,” Syd bellowed, “so kill them before they have the chance.”
Still, despite their solid defense, Barskall warriors soon began to make it onto The Foggy Day. There were just so many of them that it was impossible to fight them all off.
Toward the bow of the ship, Benjamin saw a warrior climb over the rail and immediately lift a flask to his lips.
Seiderdrek. Benjamin raced toward the warrior, drawing his sword as he ran.
The warrior turned to face him, his eyes glowing a dull brown and a crazed smile on his face.
Benjamin stabbed at the man and caught him in the shoulder. His blade sunk deep into the flesh.
The Barskall warrior didn’t seem to notice, and he swung his sword at Benjamin’s head in a powerful blow.
Benjamin blocked the attack, cursing himself all the while for not internalizing the idea that Barskall warriors didn’t feel pain. Injury was ineffective, so he needed to kill.
Twisting his empty left hand in a complicated pattern, he conjured ice on the deck beneath the Barskall’s feet, then rammed his shoulder into the man.
The Barskall warrior went down hard, slipping and falling on his back. Benjamin was on him in a moment, and drove his sword into the man’s chest.
“Lesson learned,” Benjamin grumbled. He turned and surveyed the deck. What he saw made his nausea come rushing back.
Dozens of Barskall warriors stood on the deck fighting the crew of The Foggy Day. He saw Syd battling a warrior, a sword in each hand. Jarvi used his shocker to down an opponent and his knife to finish him off. He saw men and women whose names he hadn’t even bothered to learn boldly standing up to the seiderdrek-fueled warriors invading their ship.
He felt a rush of pride at the bravery of his shipmates, and the urgent need to join the battle. There was no way he was going to let them have all the fun.
Benjamin turned to the nearest Barskall warrior, raised his sword, and charged.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The sky was dark above The Winter Night, and large drops of rain fell onto the deck. All around them, ships were joined in battle. Arrows flew, lightning crashed, and iron swords clanged against iron swords.
The Winter Night sailed into the fray.
Clemens hustled up to Abbey. “We’re here, boss. What do we do?”
“We need to find the Storm Callers.” Her eyes scanned the sea, but it was impossible to tell much about the ships. She couldn’t begin to guess which one might house the Storm Callers.
“There,” Viktor said casually. He pointed toward a ship sitting motionless some distance away.
“How the hell do you know that?” Abbey asked.
“Simple. They’re not fighting anyone; they’re sitting off to the side of the battle. A big ship like that full of Barskall? It would be attacking unless it had a good reason not to.”
Olaf scratched his head. “Wow. That actually makes sense.”
“Yes it does,” Abbey agreed. The Storm-Caller ship was controlling the weather which in turn directed the flow of the battle, all without engaging in it. She trotted up to the prow to tell Dustin.
Dustin looked weary when she told him the news, and Abbey couldn’t blame him. He’d been going all-out for hours, but she needed him to push on a little longer. If they could get on that ship and win over the Storm Callers, they would have a chance.
He called a wind and the crew adjust
ed the sail, sending them cruising toward the stationary ship.
Dahlia sat on the deck watching everything; she hadn’t said a word since they’d arrived at the Storm Wall. Abbey kept waiting for her to make some sort of move to escape, but so far she’d been the perfect prisoner.
Abbey nodded to Olaf. “Watch her. Don’t listen to a word she says, but watch her.”
Olaf nodded grimly, then asked, “Wait, where are you going?”
Abbey gestured toward the Barskall ship.
“Are you kidding?” Olaf groaned. “You’re attacking an enemy ship and I don’t get to come?”
“We’ll be right back. Hopefully. Clemens, you got the crew under control?”
“Aye, boss.”
“Good. Fannar, Viktor, you’re with me.”
As they pulled alongside the Barskall ship, she could see men standing near the railing holding swords, watching and waiting to see what The Winter Night would do. They were playing defense, a very un-Barskall move. Abbey became even more convinced Viktor was right.
Fannar gave Abbey a hook with a rope attached to it, and handed another to Viktor. “I found these below-deck. Nice, huh?”
Abbey looked at the rope a moment, then set it down. “Actually, I have another idea. Follow me.”
She trotted back to the prow, Fannar and Viktor at her heels. “Dustin, I need another ride.”
Dustin hesitated, then pointed upward.
Abbey nodded. “The three of us need to get over to that ship.”
Dustin shook his head and chuckled. “When this is over, you’re going to have to tell me how you do that.”
“I’ll give it a shot.” She turned to Fannar and Viktor. “I’m going to grab onto you, and the three of us are going to jump off the ship. Dustin will give us wind, and I’ll make us light so the air can carry us over.”
Fannar raised an eyebrow. “Uh, okay. How can you do that?”
Viktor elbowed him. “She’s magic now. Keep up.”
They ran to the starboard side and climbed onto the rail.
