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Black Arrow

Page 24

by J. P. Ashman


  Gleave closed his mouth, swallowing the question he’d been about to ask.

  ‘What’s that?’ Correia demanded, looking to a smitten Starks.

  ‘My new lid,’ Starks said, smiling up at her.

  ‘That’s Sirretan.’ One of Jehan’s men moved his horse close to Starks.

  Correia wasn’t surprised the man spoke Altolnan, this close to the border. Eudes de Geelan had his faults, but a lack of education for his men-at-arms wasn’t one of them. She only wished Altolnan marcher lords would do the same.

  Gleave mounted his horse and was beside the man looming over Starks before anyone else spoke. ‘It’s Altolnan now, that helm,’ he said in Sirretan, holding the man’s stare, a wicked, daring grin on Gleave’s face.

  Correia whistled and all eyes turned to her. ‘If you’re all done showing your cocks to one another, we’ll move on, eh?’

  Jehan, his own bascinet held in the crook of his arm, smirked and waved his men in the direction of the unseen town and chateau. With some reluctance from those nearest Gleave and Starks, the men of Easson did as they were ordered. Correia and her own followed close behind, Starks and his rust covered bascinet and hands bringing up the rear.

  After a mile or two, with much Sirretan chatter coming from those in front, Sav pulled alongside Correia.

  ‘Any word on Fal?’

  Correia kept her eyes front. ‘It’s not good.’

  Sav leaned across. ‘But there is word?’

  ‘Oh aye, Sav, they have him alright, like we were told by the Marshal of Sirreta’s man, yesterday. I wish we’d ridden on instead of resting the horses for the night. I stupidly relaxed a tad, knowing where he was and who had him.’

  Sav sat back and eased into the motion of his trotting horse. ‘He’s alive?’ he asked, ignoring the latter. It was paining him as much, if not more, than Correia, she knew.

  Correia squeezed her reins and nodded. But they’ve had him over a day, she thought. A day that’ll feel much longer to Fal. She felt sick. This isn’t the Easson I knew. I should have ridden on…

  ‘He your man in Easson?’ Sav didn’t need to mention Jehan to make his meaning clear.

  ‘No, not exactly.’ Correia shifted in her saddle.

  ‘You do have one, don’t you? In the marquis’ employ I mean.’

  A nod.

  ‘But it’s not this knight, or chavilee, or whatever they call themselves?’

  ‘No, Sav, it’s not Jehan.’

  ‘A cook, perhaps?’

  Correia sighed, but shook her head.

  ‘You’re not going to tell me, are you?’

  ‘No.’

  Sav sighed and his free hand came up and rubbed hard at his face. After another quarter mile, he spoke again.

  ‘Are they treating Fal well, Correia?’

  She looked at him, words weren’t needed.

  Sav closed his eyes and cursed.

  Correia wanted to cry and knew Sav would too should she tell him more. He’d also want to crack skulls. Correia wanted to do that as well, especially the bastard Rasoir’s.

  Chapter 33 – Black sails

  The sun had hardly left the horizon when the call came from the fortified crow’s nest.

  ‘There! Another sail, coming in from the north!’

  All eyes looked up, to the pointing finger.

  ‘What is it, boy?’ Mannino shouted, a frown pulling at his brow.

  ‘Not sure, Cap’n. Sails are black though?’

  ‘Squall skewer me,’ Hitchmogh cursed, coming alongside Mannino on the aft-castle.

  ‘She might if you keep tempting her, man,’ Mannino said. He pursed his lips as Hitchmogh grunted a laugh. ‘Black Guild, isn’t she?’

  Hitchmogh nodded. ‘Alden-Fenn’s floating castle is that, aye. Only Edward’s beast is bigger, from what I remember of her.’

  Mannino let out a long, slow breath. ‘And so we have the next calamity to hit Sessio and her crew.’

  ‘We can outrun her, can’t we, Captain?’ Spendley appeared next to Mannino. ‘Can’t we?’ he said again, when no answer came.

  ‘Well, we could, Spendley,’ Hitchmogh said across Mannino, as the man twisted and looked to the stern, ‘if we weren’t being hounded by the one behind.’

  Spendley frowned. ‘We’ve dealt with more than one pirate before.’ His shoulders bobbed in a laugh. ‘We’ve dealt with an Altolnan blockade, for Squall’s sake.’

  ‘You’ve got Master Spendley using her name now, man.’ Mannino looked forward again, eyes on his crew going about their business around the ship.

  ‘Spendley,’ Hitchmogh said, re-drawing the young officer’s attention, ‘the Black Guild’s ship isn’t some Altolnan naval vessel, or pirate bucket. With a ramming galley behind us and that thing closing in, we’re stuck between a cock and a goblin face.’

  Mannino and Spendley screwed their faces up at that.

  Hitchmogh pulled his head back. ‘What? You not heard the term before?’

  Spendley shook his head. ‘Not like that—’

  ‘Enough,’ Mannino said, in all seriousness. ‘We act. Now.’

  ‘To arms, to arms!’ Spendley shouted, needing no more orders than that.

  A bell rang and the decks exploded into motion, with sailors running about and archers piling onto the main deck before making their way onto the two castle-decks.

  ‘They’re a way out, Cap’n,’ Hitchmogh said, frowning.

  ‘They are, aye.’ Mannino retrieved his pipe and shoved it into his mouth. Chewing the end, he turned once more and looked back past the stern. It was hard to see the galley since there was no obvious sail. ‘That’s the goblin ship, Charlzberg’s.’

  ‘That little shite?’ Hitchmogh said, turning to look the same way, squinting as he did so. Spendley followed suit.

  ‘Aye,’ Mannino said, his empty pipe bobbing as he nodded. ‘He has a net for a sail, remember?’

  Hitchmogh barked a laugh. ‘Oh aye. Prick.’

  ‘He also had delivery of two new guns.’

  Mannino and Hitchmogh looked to Spendley, who nodded his confirmation.

  ‘These guns on deck, Spendley, as opposed to being pulled uselessly behind?’ Hitchmogh asked. Spendley nodded. ‘’Morl’s reekin’ corpse.’ Hitchmogh rubbed at his leathery face.

  ‘You up for this, man?’ Mannino asked Hitchmogh.

  ‘I’m going to have to be.’

  ‘Northern ship’s closing, Cap’n.’

  All eyes looked to the crow’s nest and the boy. Two crossbowmen were climbing in next to him. Once in, they proceeded to check their windlass crossbows. The boy continued to point north.

  ‘She’s fast, for her size,’ Spendley said, eyes wide, black sails fast approaching.

  ‘She’s fast for any size, lad,’ Hitchmogh said.

  ‘Are we turning side on, Captain?’ the man at the whipstaff said, from behind the trio.

  ‘No. If we do, we slow dramatically and expose our length to a ramming galley with guns.’ Mannino cursed his lack of options.

  ‘How are they so fast?’ Spendley was leaning forward, over the rail. He squinted at the large cog closing on them, its nightmarish black sails bloating despite not having the wind.

  ‘How are we, lad, when there’s no wind?’ Hitchmogh offered a tight smile when Spendley looked his way. The lad’s eyes widened once more.

  ‘They have a mage?’ Spendley asked.

  ‘The fuckers have two.’ Hitchmogh slapped Spendley on the back and made for the steps down to the main deck. ‘Time to tie me up, Master Spendley.’

  Taking a deep breath and receiving a nod from Mannino, Spendley followed Hitchmogh down the steps and across to the main-mast, where Joncausks was waiting with a thick rope.

  ‘You ready for this?’ Mannino said, loud enough for the men and women on the aft-castle to hear.

  ‘Aye, Captain!’ the sailors and archers shouted as one.

  ‘Are you all ready?’ Mannino said louder, for all to hear.

&
nbsp; Sessio’s crew roared.

  Chapter 34 – Boarders

  Black ship and sails closing, Sessio ran straight and true, allowing the larger ship to approach on a course that would see the two pass side by side whilst keeping the goblin galley astern.

  ‘Winds dropping,’ Lefey shouted from the rigging above the forecastle.

  Hitchmogh cursed, as did several sailors. ‘You want me to put wind in her sails, Cap’n?’

  Mannino shook his head at Hitchmogh’s shouted question. ‘Keep her as she is, whipstaff,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Master Hitchmogh,’ he looked back to the main deck where Hitchmogh was tied to the main-mast, ‘be ready to unleash what you’ve got when it’s needed, against their mages.’

  With a deep breath, Hitchmogh nodded. ‘Aye, Cap’n. I’ll see what I can conjure up.’

  ‘Literally, if you please, Master Hitchmogh.’ Mannino stashed his empty pipe in a pocket and moved to the very stern of the ship where he could see the war galley, gaining on them as it were. ‘Those hobyahs are unmatched on the oar it seems,’ he muttered.

  ‘Eh, Captain?’ Tahir said, moving to his side.

  ‘Nothing, man. Nothing. Observations and such, that’s all.’

  ‘Erm, right you are, Captain.’ Tahir hesitated before departing the scene via the steps to the main deck, whilst Mannino returned to his usual position by the front rail of the aft-castle. The archers were on the port side, war bows strung and bodkin tipped arrows nocked in preparation for what was to come.

  ‘Ready when you are, Captain,’ Spendley shouted from the forecastle.

  Mannino nodded. ‘Let them fly.’ His voice carried to all aboard, even to those below deck, and arrows flew, and Hitchmogh closed his eyes.

  Spray rained down on the men and women of Sessio’s forecastle. Arrows rained down on those of the Black Guild’s ship, with surprising accuracy considering both the distance and the pitch and roll of both vessels.

  Screams and shouts followed.

  Hitchmogh opened bloodshot eyes, chest heaving. He looked left and right, to and from arrow nocking archers fore and aft. They loosed again, and again he closed his eyes. Droplets of sweat appeared on his forehead.

  A cheer went up from the forecastle before more cries of outrage and pain filtered back from the black ship, fast closing.

  ‘Leave the lads to it now, Master Hitchmogh.’ Mannino leaned forward and rested his arms on the rail, studying the man tied below. ‘Save yourself for what’s to come.’

  ‘Fuck off, Mannino!’

  ‘He’s ready, Captain,’ Parry shouted from the main deck, scimitar in hand.

  ‘Oof, what! Seems so, Master Parry. We’re on now.’ Mannino drew his cutlass. ‘Hear your first mate and blade master?’ he shouted to the crew. ‘Time’s come to get up close.’

  The black ship was in range and the sky filled with arrows heading both ways.

  Sessio’s crew hurled abuse at the vessel about to pass by. The arrows of both ships struck. Sailors and archers on both sides fell, arrows jutting from fatal and none fatal wounds alike.

  The tower-like side-castles of the black, modified cog reached over Sessio’s forecastle as the vessel passed close. The windlass crossbows of the crow’s nest clicked and two lives were ended on the enemy ship. Mannino didn’t need to see it to know his men had taken two officers. That was their expertise after all.

  A cloaked figure appeared at the edge of one of the side-castles passing by, the woman’s black, bald head a stark contrast to the white, snarling faces of the assassins ready to jump down onto Sessio’s decks.

  ‘Master Hitchmogh!’ Mannino pointed his cutlass at the woman, a hint of fear flecking his voice for the first time.

  Hitchmogh cursed, spat on the deck and followed Mannino’s pointing cutlass to the woman, who was shuddering violently, a sleek wand held out to her side.

  Assassins jumped down from the side-castles. As they did, the female mage glowed like the sun itself. Many of Sessio’s crew members fell back, hands covering their eyes as the assassins landed and struck. Two were met by arrows, which took them back overboard, but the rest landed true and struck true. Several archers fell, hands covering eyes. The light died as quickly as it flared and when Mannino caught sight of the bald woman again she was doubled over in obvious convulsive agony.

  Hitchmogh screamed and the woman exploded in a mist of blood and a scattering of shrapnel-like bone. The Black Guild archers to her sides fell screaming to the deck.

  Hitchmogh laughed.

  Mannino looked up as the large ship glided past and he locked eyes with her captain. ‘Alden-Fenn.’ Mannino’s voice was low; dangerous. He pointed his cutlass at the beast of a man, all tattoos and black armour. Mannino didn’t have to say a word. As the man snarled back at him they both heard Hitchmogh roar. A stream of rippling air, like that of a hot summer’s day, filled the distance between Mannino’s blade and Alden-Fenn’s tattooed face. The guild master fell back, howling with rage and pain as his skin seared. Mannino couldn’t help but smile. Before he could witness Alden-Fenn’s reaction, the sound of clashing blades drew Mannino’s attention to the forecastle and main deck, where intense fighting continued between his crew members and the intruding assassins.

  The black ship passed before more assassins joined the Black Guild’s vanguard.

  Mannino was eager to join his crew on the main-deck, but knew he had to command Sessio and plan for what was to come next. That bloody war galley.

  Spendley ducked left and right, parried and lunged. The black-clad woman before him was quick. Too quick. He gasped, feeling her long knife slide across his outstretched arm. Despite knowing he’d been trained well by Parry, Spendley knew it to be the end as a second blade came in high and fast. He saw the point for the briefest moment and surprised himself by relaxing, knowing it was all over.

  The female assassin collapsed with a jerk, her second blade nicking the bridge of Spendley’s nose but no more, a windlass-crossbow bolt jutting from her shoulder. Through a drilled reaction alone did Spendley thrust down hard, finishing the woman before she had time to see it coming. There was no time to glance up, to thank the crossbowman above, and even if there was, Spendley knew the man would be within the crow’s nest, cranking hard to reload his weapon.

  Lefey rushed past, followed by Joncausks, both of whom launched themselves at a bearded assassin who pressed two sailors hard. The man went down before he could react to the new threat. The following blows and stabs left him unrecognisable as the sailors he’d pressed butchered him where he lay. Lefey and Joncausks had already moved on.

  ‘I told you to stay below!’ Parry dropped to his knees and slashed left to right, slicing the back of an assassin’s legs who’d killed one of the archers. The man dropped to his knees and screamed before Parry brought his scimitar back around and cleaved the assassin near in two. Parry risked a glance at the lad he’d seen at the main deck’s hatch. He grunted a laugh as he saw Quin throw up and go back down.

  On his feet again, Parry raced across the wooden deck, sliding at the last moment to take the feet from an assassin who was hacking down two archers with a hafted-axe. As the man hit the deck, Parry dropped his scimitar and grabbed the man’s head. He forced a thumb into each eye, blinding the assassin before pressing his digits deeper. The assassin thrashed and screamed.

  ‘Teach you for boarding Sessio, you prick.’

  The man stopped thrashing and the gore-slick face went slack. Parry withdrew his red and gelatinous smeared thumbs and retrieved his scimitar. ‘Get me on that fucking boat, Hitchmogh!’ he shouted. Hitchmogh’s bloodshot eyes flashed to him. Parry grinned, turned, ran and leapt towards the departing cog. As the crew heard Mannino shout, ‘No!’ Parry vanished, although his shadow remained for a heartbeat longer.

  ‘The galley’s close, Captain,’ Tahir warned, back by Mannino’s side and pointing astern.

  Mannino looked from the vanishing blade master to the closing galley. As he locked eyes on the b
lack-clad goblin in the web-like sail, he heard a double crack and saw two puffs of white smoke, the rest obscured by the stern rail, which exploded in a rapidly spreading mix of shot and wood.

  Mannino was tackled to the ground by Tahir, who grunted and coughed blood soon after. Men screamed and Mannino heard goblins cheer. He looked into the eyes of the man who’d sprayed the side of his head in blood and spittle; the eyes that looked back lost their spark whilst Mannino watched, helpless. Tahir was dead and Mannino was beside himself with rage.

  Chapter 35 – A new debt

  Mannino leapt back, as did the dozen archers around him, the twin guns of the galley firing yet again. Hitchmogh’s arcane efforts held true though, the projectiles deviating and splashing into the sea. Climbing back to his feet, Mannino looked back at the scene before him., just as the loudest bang yet announced the firing of the galley’s trailing cannon.

  Mannino caught the swift approach of one of his sailors.

  ‘They’ve turned on one another!’ Joncausks shouted as he rushed to Mannino’s side.

  The black ship was turning in a great arc to port, listing all the way after being struck by the goblin galley’s rear-facing cannon. Mannino strained his eyes in an attempt to see Parry aboard the black ship, but failed to do so. Chewing his bottom lip, he looked down to Charlzberg’s galley and was surprised to see the goblin admiral waving with one arm from behind the galley’s single mast.

  ‘Hold!’ Mannino ordered his archers as soon as they began to loose. All obeyed.

  ‘Captain?’ Joncausks dared.

  ‘He’s shouting something.’ Lefey came alongside the two, squinting along with the rest.

  ‘He’s taking arrows aboard, from the black ship,’ one of the archers said, pointing his bow to indicate the odd arrow flicking from cog to war galley, which was losing pace on Sessio and dropping back. Several hobyahs had fallen to arrows whilst some still rowed, many with arrows jutting from their chests and shoulders.

  ‘Stubborn shites,’ Boxall said. He’d appeared next to Joncausks, a chunk of his cheek missing.

 

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