by Giles Carwyn
And that also, he thought. We will dance that dance, as well.
He looked up when he heard a splash and the thump of boots against the hull.
He threw a casual glamour around Shara and himself. He didn’t want anything to ruin this perfect moment.
Brophy surged over the edge of the rail, spraying seawater.
Ah yes, Jesheks thought. The young gallant, searching for his love. Gathering Shara closer to his chest, he intensified the glamour.
“Shara!” Brophy shouted, looking about the deck.
Jesheks held himself perfectly still. Brophy was not a mage, but he was the Brother of Autumn. Jesheks wasn’t sure what abilities the young man possessed, and he couldn’t leave anything to chance. Jesheks could smell his fear, his urgency.
He watched as Brophy cast around, looking for his beloved. Frustration and fury twisted his face. He ran to the broken rail where Issefyn had toppled, looking to see if Shara had fallen after, then ran along the side, searching. The young Ohndarien moved within a foot of Jesheks and never saw him.
“Shara!” Brophy called in desperation. Clenching his fists, he cast another futile glance across the water to the next nearest ship. He glanced back the way he had come, toward the Ohohhim flagship, which had become the center of the battle. A fellow Ohohhim ship had gone to her aid, but two Silver Islander ships had converged upon it. The battle would soon be joined.
Which young woman will it be, daring boy? Jesheks thought silently. It is time for you to make your choice.
Every strand of muscle stood out on Brophy’s tense arms, and he hovered there for a long moment. With a frustrated growl, he turned and dove into the water, began swimming toward Arefaine’s flagship.
Happy hunting, Jesheks thought. I wish you well on your hopeless task. You have a young magician to catch.
And I, well…
He inhaled Shara’s fragrance, bringing his lips down to her brow.
I have a ship to catch.
Ossamyr concentrated on her breathing as Reef prepared his crew for the attack. She gathered what power she could, half lost in a delirious haze. She’d thought she would die in the explosion, but now she had hope, just a glimmer of hope. But as quick as the hope came, the searing fire in her abdomen stole it from her.
The helmsman guided the vessel right up to Arefaine’s ship. The Ohohhim flagship was caught up in a tangle of other vessels and foundering from damage in her starboard side. She was slowly sinking, aft end first, as her tattered sails flapped wildly in the steady wind. Silver Islanders and Ohohhim soldiers fought all along the sinking wrecks. The legendary Carriers of the Opal Fire surrounded their fallen empress, their blades blurring as they kept Reef’s countrymen at bay. There were dozens of Carriers left, and they fought as one with perfect form and discipline.
She carefully reached out with her magic and found that Arefaine was unconscious, but still alive.
Reef’s ship maneuvered with aching slowness. Ossamyr watched three men die by the blade while they edged ever closer. When the gap between the ships was still dangerously wide, Reef leapt to his ship’s rail and launched himself across the distance. He barely made it, grabbing the other ship’s rigging as he slammed against the hull. Swinging out, he kicked against the side and flipped over the rail.
He ran at the closest Carrier, slashing. The Carrier deflected the first strike. Reef feinted, drew the man out, then chopped his arm off and followed with a strike that took his head. He spun past the next Carrier’s strike, and it missed him by an inch. Reef continued his spin and struck the Carrier in the temple with his elbow. The man’s knees buckled and Reef headed for the next Ohohhim.
Ossamyr’s eyes swept the ship, trying to gauge the enemy’s numbers and their chance of success. Her gaze was drawn to the back of the boat as someone clambered over the almost submerged rail. Seawater dripped from his arms and his face, from his curly blond hair.
“Brophy!” she shouted.
He didn’t hear her, or he ignored her. Like a demon, he sprinted up the deck to the cluster of Ohohhim who protected their empress.
Reef noticed Brophy’s arrival, too. He flicked a glance at the boy, perhaps hearing Ossamyr’s shout, perhaps chilled with the same feeling she’d had, like the rush of wind before a storm. But Brophy was still a deck length away, and Reef had a job to do.
Another Carrier ducked to avoid Reef’s sword, leaving a gap in their protective circle. Reef rushed through the opening, charging toward Arefaine. There was nothing standing between the two of them now.
Ossamyr held her breath as she saw Brophy move with inhuman speed across the deck. Reef raised his sword to land the killing blow on Arefaine’s unconscious body. As he swung, Brophy threw his sword. Reef dodged to the side, sending his strike wide. His blade sank into the deck above Arefaine’s limp shoulder and nicked her cheek. Brophy barreled into him, carrying him away. The two warriors crashed into the deck beyond Morgeon’s granddaughter, grappling for control of Reef’s sword.
Reef’s ship bumped against the sinking flagship. His remaining crew charged onto the deck, brandishing their weapons as they rushed forward. They crashed into the diminishing imperial force.
Ossamyr gritted her teeth as she stepped over the rails, and she hobbled toward the melee, her gaze locked on Brophy and Reef’s death struggle. Reef was one of the fiercest fighters she had ever seen, and the man was stronger than an ox. But Brophy had won the Nine Squares, and he had done it before his imprisonment in an eighteen-year battle.
The Brother of Autumn kicked Reef away from him and snatched up a discarded sword. He leapt to his feet and kept after Reef like a lion, hacking at legs, at arms, slashing though every parry Reef could muster. Reef’s only salvation lay in constant retreat and complete defense. Brophy’s sword was everywhere, at his head, at his chest, slip to the side, and hack at the arm. Reef blocked each stroke while stepping backward.
But he was running out of deck.
“Brophy, stop!” she shouted, whimpering at the pain in her belly.
Please, she thought. Not this choice. She’d made this choice once and it had destroyed her.
Swords clashed. Men screamed and died against the starboard rail as she hobbled toward the bow. Reef threw a dagger at Brophy’s eyes. His sword whipped up, caught the blade, and sent it spinning, but it gave Reef a precious second. The Silver Islander stepped cleverly up the steps to the forecastle, and almost lost his leg as Brophy followed.
“Brophy, please stop,” she whispered, but he couldn’t hear her.
He pressed Reef hard, forcing him across the deck. When Reef had no more space to retreat, he would die. Sweat streamed down his face, and his thick arms shivered with each monstrous stroke Brophy dealt.
Ossamyr thought of Phandir. She saw Brophy’s innocent face, saw his stunned expression as she poured fake blood across Phandir’s fake wound. She saw the hope in his eyes disappear like a tiny candle snuffed out forever.
I had no choice, she had said to him. I’m sorry, she had said.
Forgive me.
Closing her eyes, she sent all of her magic into Reef.
The ship was sinking, and Brophy wanted to be done with this fight. If he could have turned his back on Reef and let the man go, he would have. But Reef was cunning and quick, and easily the strongest man Brophy had ever fought. And only one thing mattered to him. Left alive, he would give anything to kill Arefaine. His last stroke had almost done the job, and his victory would have doomed them all.
Brophy struck hard, felt the flagging muscles in Reef’s mighty arm. The Islander jumped back, barely avoiding Brophy’s follow-up. Reef was a powerful man, but he was only mortal. He would tire. He could not keep up this pace.
“Jump,” Brophy said as their swords clashed. “Save your life. I don’t want to kill you.” He stepped forward, pushing the huge man back and almost slicing Reef’s sword arm, but Reef stepped sideways, changing angles and sword hands. Brophy stepped back at the sudden swing, and Reef bou
ght himself an extra foot of deck, an extra moment of life. He breathed through flared nostrils like a lathered horse, but he didn’t say anything.
Suddenly Brophy’s neck hairs prickled. Magic flowed past him, all around him. He tensed, drawing back, giving Reef a precious second to regroup. But the magic was not aimed at Brophy. He flicked a glance toward the back of the ship, seeking the magician.
Ossamyr stood to port of the ferocious melee, her head bowed, her body bent. One arm extended toward them, fist clenched and shaking.
One second was all Brophy could spare. He knew what was happening. He’d seen Shara do it before.
Brophy’s sword whipped up as Reef’s came crashing down. Reef seemed to swell. His clenched teeth glowed, and the power behind the blow was monstrous. It drove Brophy back a step. He snarled, came back at Reef with a quick slice, but the Islander’s block was there. His arms no longer trembled. His golden eyes glowed with an inner light.
With a grim smile, Reef pressed Brophy back a step, using his superior weight to push them. Brophy bent, came back, slashed at Reef’s head. The Islander ducked and nearly chopped off Brophy’s leg.
Brophy danced away, and Reef took the opportunity. He took two quick strides to the edge of the forecastle and leapt over the edge toward Arefaine, sword extended.
Brophy rammed into Reef in midair, knocking him off course. They landed on top of a wounded Carrier who was holding his gaping wounds with both hands. The man screamed as he was driven to his knees. Brophy and Reef rolled into the other combatants. Brophy came to his feet, and a Silver Islander lunged at him. Brophy sliced into the sailor’s chest. Reef came to his feet, shoving the wounded Carrier out of his way.
The huge man’s eyes narrowed as he saw something in the distance. Brophy quickly danced back, buying himself a moment to glance over his shoulder. A crowd of Ohohhim soldiers was swimming toward the ship. She’d sunk so far that her aft gunnels were already underwater. The Carriers would be able to swim right onto the deck and join the fight.
Reef charged the remaining Carriers, and Brophy blocked him once more—
—but the move was a feint. Reef spun right, drawing Brophy off balance, and came around with a lightning-quick swing. Brophy’s block was hasty, and the monstrous power in Reef’s magically enhanced arms shattered his blade.
He ducked, and Reef’s blade whistled over his head. Brophy came up inside his guard and slammed a fist into Reef’s jaw. The Islander reeled backward. Brophy dropped to a crouch, stealing a dead man’s sword.
He brought it up between them as Reef looked at him with grim determination, his bloody fist clenching his weapon.
The swimming Carriers reached the ship and scrambled up the slanting deck, weapons in hand.
“Get Arefaine out of here!” Brophy roared to the approaching Ohohhim. “Get her to another ship.”
Arefaine’s men charged into the fray. The Islanders were now outnumbered and quickly began losing ground. One of the Carriers picked Arefaine up as his countrymen gathered around her.
“Come.” Brophy beckoned to Reef with his free hand. “Let’s finish this.”
Ossamyr hid behind a mast as a group of Ohohhim warriors killed the last of Reef’s crew and carried Arefaine onto Reef’s vessel. They had to be stopped before they could escape. Perhaps she could use a glamour to slip into their group. She still had her poisoned dagger strapped to her thigh. It would only take one scratch. The unconscious girl would never be able to save herself. But first things first. She had to get Reef away from Brophy.
The two men still fought like demons. She flooded Reef with her life force and he glowed with power. But Brophy was indefatigable. He bent under Reef’s onslaught like a willow tree, giving ground, but then suddenly whipping forward and leaving a slash on Reef’s arm or his leg.
She panted, trying to control her breath, to send more energy. But her strength was flagging, and she suddenly realized she had fallen to her knees. How long had she been there?
It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered. She fed Reef, throwing every ounce of her will into the task.
The Ohohhim began chopping at the lines that held Reef’s ship to their sinking flagship. Ossamyr felt like she should try to stop them before it was too late. But they were forty feet away. It might as well have been a mile. She didn’t know if she could even get to her feet.
Ossamyr struggled upright. Her belly felt like it was slowly ripping in half. She moaned and looked down. Her stitches had come open.
Steel clanged on steel as Reef and Brophy continued their fight. Dazed, Ossamyr realized she had stopped sending magic to Reef. She looked up, trying to send more, but she was spent. Stumbling toward them, she stretched out a hand, trying to stop the inevitable just by reaching.
But Brophy sensed the weakness in his opponent. Reef lunged, making a desperate cut at Brophy’s midsection. His sword ripped through Brophy’s tunic, but didn’t find flesh. Brophy spun and ducked in one motion, bringing all of his strength into one swing.
His blade severed Reef’s thick leg, and the giant man toppled. His sword clattered to the deck, and blood gushed onto the wood.
“No!” Ossamyr screamed. She stumbled across the slanting deck.
Reef clutched at the wound with one hand and grabbed his sword with the other. Using the blade as a crutch, he tried to rise again as his blood poured out of him. He managed one lurching hop toward Arefaine before crashing back to the deck.
Ossamyr rushed to his side and collapsed next to him.
Brophy stood over them, bloody sword dripping, but he didn’t attack. Ossamir held Reef’s head in her arms. “Oh Reef, no…”
He looked at her, dazed, gave a brief glance at his leg. His eyelids drooped. “I couldn’t beat him,” he murmured. “I couldn’t do it…”
His eyelids slid shut, and his huge body went limp.
Vinghelt stayed huddled in a ball, not daring to move. The Silver Islanders who had come screaming aboard his vessel had run past him, thinking him dead, but they had all been washed overboard in the explosion. The goddess had proved her power once again. He never should have doubted her.
The enemy had abandoned Fessa’s Blade, but for a long time he could still hear the clash of steel, smaller explosions, and the screams of the dying. The Silver Islander ship that had rammed them had somehow miraculously managed to stay stuck to Fessa’s Blade during that immense wave that rocked them. To a man, the Islanders had all clambered west, climbing from ship to ship toward some unknown objective.
Vinghelt thought about sneaking across the deck and trying to make off with the Silver Islander vessel, but it was too dangerous. What if there was a contingent waiting belowdecks?
Unsure what to do, Vinghelt continued to play dead, wondering when Fessa would return to him with news of their victory. The long minutes passed and the sound of fighting slowly faded into the distance. Eventually all was quiet except for the creaking of the rigging and the lap of waves against the sides of the ship.
Slowly he opened his eyes and looked around. Seeing nothing, he crawled to the side of the ship and peered over the splash wall.
The ocean looked like a razed city. Everywhere he could see smoldering ships were slowly sinking under the water. Thousands of dead bodies bobbed in the waves alongside broken masts and splintered chunks of wood. The tattooed men’s corpses were strewn across the decks of every ship he could see. There were two dead weeping ones for every Islander, but the crazy pirates had been overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
The noble remnants of his Fessa-blessed countrymen gathered in small groups on the decks of the remaining ships. A few of them scoured the wreckage or the water for enemy survivors, but most of them stood stock-still in mute victory.
Vinghelt turned his gaze upon the other side of the battle. A single Islander vessel fled to the north in full retreat, but otherwise the sea was theirs. They had won.
Even the Ohohhim ships had been destroyed, further evidence that Fessa smiled upon her chi
ldren. Vinghelt’s grin widened. Yes, he thought. The fools should never have thought to thwart the goddess.
Vinghelt stood up and brushed a hand down his sleeve to straighten it, and his hand came away sticky with blood. He frowned, rubbed it on his pants. The price of victory didn’t matter. All that mattered was the glory of the goddess. The Great Ocean was his now, all his. His victory was complete, and he was the lord of everything he could see, from here to Ohndarien to the Summer Deserts and all the way back to Vingheld. And when he continued onward to Efften, the secrets of the isle of sorcerers would be his as well. After he had absorbed them, after he became the most powerful man in the world, perhaps then he would travel north to the empire of his fleeing comrades and conquer their lands for Fessa as well.
Fessa’s love would soon spread across the entire world, from the Summer Seas to the coasts of Kherif, from the Southwyldes to the Vastness. With a Fessa-blessed army at his back, nothing could stop him from bringing his Eternal Summer to the entire world.
“Well done, my love,” a beautiful voice said behind him. Vinghelt whirled, and then let out a breath of relief.
Fessa stood there in all her radiant glory. Her gown flowed down her body like the water of the ocean, and her regal bearing mesmerized him.
“Our victory is complete. It is time to move on. Our faithful servants will gather our forces and repair our ships. Then they will spilt up, traveling to the far corners of the world to seek out those of illuminated blood and bring them home,” she said, her voice filling him with a joy he could barely contain. “And you shall return to Ohndarien and solidify our influence there. I promised I would make you king, didn’t I?”
Vinghelt smiled, feeling the power of the goddess all around him.
“East, my love,” Fessa said, brushing his cheek with her hand. “We go east.”
