by Pedro Urvi
“Me too, when I was ordered to join the mission.”
“Who ordered you to come? Gondabar?”
Astrid shook her head, then nodded. “Yes, the request came from him, but the order was from higher up.”
“Higher than Gondabar? There’s nobody higher than he is, he’s our lead—” Before he could finish the sentence, he realized who she must mean. “The King himself?”
Astrid nodded. “Yes. Thoran assigned this mission to me.”
“What were you doing with him?” Lasgol asked her. He was worried and a little angry, even though he did not know why.
“Some of the missions I carry out are for the King, or on his direct orders.”
“Are you his personal Assassin?” he asked uneasily.
Astrid saw the anger in his eyes. “We can’t choose our missions, you know that. We just carry them out.”
“But … missions for the King? He’s not someone we can trust, and he must give you some very dangerous missions …”
She smiled. “Like this one, you mean?”
“You know what I’m talking about …”
“There’s not much I can do about it. We’re Rangers, we serve the realm, the King. The missions come from our leaders. It’s the same with Viggo. He’s being assigned missions by Orten, the King’s brother. I’m sure Viggo isn’t at all happy having to work for someone like that, but he can’t refuse, and neither can I. And nor can you, sweetheart.”
Lasgol snorted, long and hard. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, and nor do I want the King to lead you down some dark path.”
Astrid smiled at him tenderly and stroked his blond hair. “You look so handsome when you worry about me. It makes my heart melt.”
“I mean it,” he insisted. His gaze was very serious.
“And so, do I,” she said, and smiled even more broadly.
Lasgol shook his head. He was not getting Astrid to take his worry seriously, and it troubled him deeply. The fact that Thoran was using her was bad news, and he knew it. It was the same with Orten using Viggo. They were two people to be kept away from as much as possible: because of the danger they would plunge Astrid and Viggo into head-first, and also because they would end up corrupting his friends’ souls if they dealt too long with them.
“Promise me you’ll be very careful not to let Thoran influence your decisions.”
“Don’t worry so much about me. I have very good judgment. I chose you, remember?”
“That’s exactly why,” he joked, to lighten the tone a little.
She kissed him gently and stroked the back of his neck. Lasgol felt the love and tenderness in her heart.
“I love you. That’s why I worry.”
“I know, sweetheart. I love you too, and I’m deeply grateful for it.”
The days went by peacefully. The weather was fine, and the ship sailed the calm waters without too much swaying. There was not much to do on board, so during the day Ingrid and Nilsa practiced archery. Nilsa climbed the mast to the crow’s-nest – not without difficulty, given her clumsiness – and tied on a target which they had made out of a shield. They both practiced shooting at it repeatedly from different positions, the further away the better.
Ingrid for her part had tied another shield to the dragon’s head as a target, and what she practiced was evasive movements, during which she would release at a short distance with her favorite bow, Punisher. Her speed and agility when she released – and the way she always hit the target at such a short distance – left everyone open-mouthed. The sailors were so much afraid that they would not even come near either of them when they were practicing, but instead hurried away immediately to wherever their work required them. Captain Olsen had not put any difficulties in their way, as long as they were careful not to hit any of his men.
Viggo and Gerd meanwhile also practiced close combat. Gerd wanted to get better at this, and Viggo was an expert, so he could have chosen no better teacher. His agility when it came to evading Gerd’s attacks was amazing. Gerd worked as hard as he could, but it was impossible for him to catch Viggo. His friend seemed to guess every move, every attack, in advance.
“I’ll catch you!” Gerd said.
Viggo gave a cynical laugh. “Maybe in your dreams, but out here in the real world? Never!”
“You wait and see!” Gerd said, and delivered a combined attack, first with knife, then with his short axe.
Viggo dodged both attacks masterfully. “Come on, you move like a Mountain Troll. I can see every attack before you’ve even started.”
Gerd tried a feint, but he was too slow, and his opponent dodged it without difficulty.
“I almost got you there!”
Viggo burst out laughing. “Yeah, that was really close.”
The two friends went on fighting for a while longer, until Gerd ended up with his tongue out, and of course without having touched Viggo a single time.
“I’d better give you some lessons and teach you a couple of tricks, because with that big body of yours you’d have a job catching someone more agile and slippery.”
“Thanks, pal.”
“On the other hand, if it’s a question of pushing down a door, or fighting against an Ogre, I think you’d be ideal.”
Gerd smiled. “Let’s focus on the first.”
“Fine. By the time this journey’s over, you’ll be an excellent fighter.”
“D’you promise that?”
“As my name’s Viggo, I promise.”
Gerd laughed out loud. “Okay then, do what you can.”
Viggo smiled. “Done!”
The days went by peacefully. Captain Olsen was an expert sailor and knew these waters well. He avoided storms and other ships as soon as he caught sight of them, and often he seemed to know they were on their way even before that. It was because of his many years of experience, he said, having spent his life at sea. According to him, at sea you could never trust either the course of a storm or the intentions of a merchant ship.
“I think Olsen is half a wizard,” Viggo said, “and that’s why he knows where the next storm or ship’s going to come from.” The captain had just avoided heading directly into an ugly storm.
Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure, it’s got nothing to do with knowledge and experience, it must be witchcraft.”
“He’d better not be a half-witch or wizard or anything,” Nilsa protested. “You know how much I hate magic, it puts me in a foul mood.” She folded her arms protectively and glared at the captain, who was chatting with Eicewald on the port side.
Gerd was looking out at the horizon. “Well, the storm he got us out of was one of the bad ones. Look how black the sky’s turned, and all that thunder and lightning.”
“He’s not a witch, and nor do you need to be afraid of a storm,” Ingrid said to both of them. “And you, smartass, stop talking nonsense,”
“I love it when you get angry with me. Your face lights up. You look so much prettier.”
Ingrid, red with fury, grabbed one of the oars and tried to hit Viggo with it. Luckily it was too long and heavy to be wielded easily, which gave him time to run to safety. At the stern he joined Lasgol and Astrid, who were on the starboard side playing with Ona and Camu. The latter was camouflaged.
Astrid stared at Ingrid, who was fuming at the other end of the ship. “What did you do just now?”
“Me? Nothing,” Viggo said, looking as if he had never broken so much as a plate in his life.
“Yeah, sure,” Lasgol said, convinced his friend had been up to his tricks again.
Astrid smiled and shook her head. “Oh, sure, and that’s why Ingrid’s spitting feathers at you.”
Viggo petted Ona, who evidently enjoyed this and pretended that like him, she was a picture of pure innocence. Camu, invisible, gave Viggo a friendly shove. Caught unawares, he was forced to do a pirouette to avoid losing his balance.
“Very good move, that,” Astrid said.
“You wretched fiend, at l
east you could have warned me!”
Warn not funny, Camu transmitted to Lasgol.
No, not funny at all, Lasgol agreed, and laughed.
“You and the creature aren’t laughing at me, are you?”
Lasgol shook his head. “Of course not.” He smiled at Astrid.
Viggo funny.
Yeah, you’re absolutely right there. At least he always makes things entertaining.
“I think at least you ought to paint a red dot on him, so we know where he is.”
“No way,” Lasgol snapped back.
“Nobody else would notice, and we’d know where he was.”
“How’s a red dot floating around the ship not going to attract attention?” Astrid asked.
“Well, we’d make it really small …”
“No and no again,” Lasgol said, shaking his head.
No paint, Camu protested, and Ona chirped in amusement.
Don’t worry, I won’t let anybody paint anything on you.
“Well then, don’t let him catch me off guard!”
“But he’s just showing his affection,” Astrid said. She smiled and reached out her hand. Camu went to her and licked it. “See? He does it to me all the time, he’s adorable.”
“Yeah, yeah, adorable, a pain is what he is.”
Camu went over to Viggo and licked his hand too. Viggo leapt back at the touch of his moist tongue.
“But why does he like licking so much?”
“Because he’s a sweetheart,” Astrid explained.
Viggo protested to high heaven.
I sweetheart, Camu transmitted to Lasgol and Ona. Ona growled as if to say ‘sweetheart my paw’.
Yeah … a real sweetheart … Lasgol transmitted to her, full of irony.
They spent a while enjoying conversation and games while the ship sailed on westwards. They soon found out that Camu loved climbing the mast up to the crow’s-nest, as well as sliding down the sail. Since the palms of his four feet stuck to any surface, he had a wonderful time letting himself slide down the sail. The optical effect he created in the process made it look as though a whimsical gust of wind had decided to strike only one part of the sail, from top to bottom. Captain Olsen would stare at his sail, hands on hips, unable to understand what was going on. Lasgol had to tell Camu that he was only to play this game when Olsen was not looking.
The next day, very early, Captain Olsen saw two ships in the distance. Immediately he ordered a series of maneuvers to distance themselves from them. Lasgol and his team woke to the shouts of the captain to his crew, and watched the ships in the distance. Olsen was trying to get away, but the two ships went on getting closer, which was not a good sign. Olsen ordered the ship to veer into the wind in order to lose them. The two other ships did the same.
“Who are they?” Gerd asked.
“I’d prefer to ask, what do they want?” said Viggo.
“They’re still approaching from starboard,” Ingrid said, “in spite of the Captain’s efforts.”
“I’ve got a feeling this is going to get ugly,” said Astrid.
“They’re not merchant ships, are they?” Nilsa asked.
“No, those are ships of war,” Ingrid said. “They look very much like the ones we use.”
“What kingdom are they from?” Gerd asked.
Lasgol had called upon his Hawk’s Eye skill. “They’re not carrying the flag of any kingdom. Their flag is black …”
The Captain’s voice thundered throughout the ship and confirmed their fears.
“Pirates!”
Chapter 20
“Pirates?” Viggo protested in disbelief. “You must be kidding, right? As if this mission weren’t complicated and dangerous enough already!”
“Well, it looks as though it’s just got a bit more dangerous still,” Ingrid said. “Run for your weapons, we’re going to need them!”
“You just wait and see,” Viggo muttered acidly. “We haven’t come across a giant sea monster in this mission yet!”
Ingrid was already leading the way, a few paces ahead. “You’re the real monster. Shut up and get your weapons.”
Viggo smiled. “Well, I seem to be improving. I’d rather be a monster than a numbskull.” He ran off.
Gerd shook his head. “Now that’s something I wasn’t expecting. Danger’s come before we’d expected it.” He followed Viggo with long strides, and the others ran after him.
“Trim the sail!” Captain Olsen shouted to his sailors.
Eicewald went to join him at the stern, to watch what was going on. “Will they attack us?”
“We’ll know very soon. If we don’t manage to leave them behind they’ll almost certainly attack.” Olsen was looking through his double spyglass as he spoke. “We’re a merchant ship with no escort on board. We’re too good a bite to pass up.”
“Are we going to leave them behind?”
“We’ll see. They have warships, and they’re fast,” the Captain commented as he looked through his spyglass again.
“How many?”
“About ninety in each ship, and they look like a well-equipped bunch of pirates.”
Eicewald shook his head. “Very bad business in that case.” He was thoughtful as he watched the enemy ships, which were beginning to narrow the distance which separated them.
“To the oars!” Olsen ordered his sailors. “Every man to the oars! We’ve got to leave them behind, and the wind’s not strong enough to let us do that. Hellfire!”
Ingrid came up to the Captain, with the others beside her. “Ready to repel the attack, Captain.”
Olsen glanced at the six of them, then at the pirate ships. He looked uncomfortable. “Don’t get me wrong, but you’re six against two hundred or thereabouts, and at sea, which is not exactly home ground for a Ranger. I don’t think we can keep them off if they catch up with us …”
Eicewald half-closed his eyes and showed his mage’s staff. “There are seven of us,” he pointed out.
“Even so. Best if they don’t catch up with us. Pirates aren’t like the soldiers you’re used to fighting. They’re a lot more daring, they always fight dirty, and they make the most of every advantage.”
“Then they’re like me, so there’s nothing for me to worry about,” Viggo muttered.
Gerd went white. “Well, there is for me.”
“Me too,” Nilsa joined in unsurely.
“Easy, pals,” Astrid said cheerfully. “No matter how dirty they fight, we’re way better than they are. Trust your training and your skill.”
Pirates? asked Camu, who did not know the word.
Attackers at sea. Bad people, bandits of the seas, Lasgol explained.
Fight?
Not for the moment. Wait for my signal. You go up the mast. Ona, you stay close to me, but be wary.
I go up mast, Camu agreed.
Ona growled, to show that she was ready to fight.
“Row! Row for your lives!” Olsen roared.
The crew was rowing as one, trying to outdistance the enemy ships. Unfortunately, the pirates had been given the same order. Since the pirate ships were faster and could count on more oarsmen, the chances of escaping were decreasing every moment, and Lasgol could see this immediately, as could Astrid. They glanced at one another, and she shook her head. No, they were not going to escape.
“They’re getting closer,” Eicewald observed. “They’re faster than we are.”
“They have faster ships and more oarsmen. We’re in a tight spot,” Olsen summarized gloomily.
Eicewald nodded. “Get yourselves in place. Three on one side of the dragon’s tail, three on the other. As soon as they’re within range, begin to release. We might make them a bit less enthusiastic about chasing us.”
“Right,” Ingrid said, and they took up their places. Eicewald moved a couple of paces back to stand between the two groups.
For a moment the sail swelled with the breath of the gods, bringing hope to Olsen and his people that they would be able to get
away, but it did not last long. The sail slackened, and they could all feel that the wind was dying. Without it they had no escape-route.
“We’re losing the wind!” Olsen shouted to his crew. “Row! All together!” They were strong, experienced sailors, who were rowing skillfully and propelling the ship over the undulating waves. Despite this, they could not manage to distance themselves from the two pursuing ships, which were still coming closer.
The chase went on all afternoon, and little by little the exhaustion of the effort began to take its toll on the oarsmen in the merchant ship. Captain Olsen went on exhorting them to go on rowing with all their might, as though they were demigods whose strength would never fail them.
“They’re five hundred paces from us,” Ingrid said. She was watching the pirate ship with one eye shut and the other open to get a better sense of the distance between them.
“Can you hit them?” Eicewald asked. “They’re too far away for a spell.”
“Five hundred paces is a bit far, but we can try,” Ingrid said confidently.
At that distance she could not use any of her three bows. Punisher, the tiny one, had a maximum range of about twenty-five paces; Swift, the short one, would not reach a hundred and fifty; and Spot-on, the compound bow, would not reach two hundred and fifty. She nocked a bigger long bow and aimed. They were very unreliable, but at that distance they were her only option. Nilsa, who was much better than Ingrid with this kind of bow, did the same. Lasgol and the others, on the other hand, did not even try. They knew the distance was beyond them. The two girls waited a moment, gauging the shot. It was not an easy one at all, not only because of the distance, but because of the swaying of the two ships.
Viggo wrinkled his nose in protest. “This nutshell won’t stay still.”
Astrid was calculating with her eyes half-closed. “If it were only this one that was moving it would be easier, but the two ships go up and down ten or fifteen hand-spans every four strokes.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll make it,” Gerd said encouragingly.
Suddenly, as if they had come to a silent agreement, they both released. Ingrid’s arrow flew to the head of one of the pirates beside the figurehead, the image of a horrifying sea snake whose sole function was presumably to frighten the enemy. The arrow passed close to his head, but did not hit him. The pirate shouted in triumph, raising his scimitar in the air, and his partners beside him shouted excitedly. Nilsa’s arrow hit him fair and square in his chest. With an expression of disbelief, he plunged into the sea, and the shouts of his colleagues suddenly subsided.
