The Dragon War

by Salvador Mercer

  “For you and your friends we’ll leave right away,” Crimson answered. “Let me tend to those who are injured and make assignments, then we’ll hoist the sails and lift anchor.”

  “Can we help?” Zokar asked.

  “No, I’ll tend to them and ensure we have enough to man the rigging,” the Captain said.

  Dour walked up to the men, “Lead the way, Captain. I’ll help you heal those who are most injured.”

  “I will man a mast,” Azor added, stepping over as well.

  “Good,” Crimson said, nodding in approval then frowning quickly as he glanced around. “What do you intend to do with them?”

  “Have those in your crew who are able help us load them into the starboard dinghy and we’ll leave them floating till they come to.”

  “You’re not going to execute them?” the Captain asked.

  “Not today,” Zokar answered.

  “Why the small dinghy? Our smuggling skiff has more room.”

  Zokar nodded while looking down and around at the sleeping or unconscious pirates. “We may have need of the skiff later if we’re to slip our way into Tyniria. Besides, the dinghy simply needs to float long enough till they wake in a few hours.”

  “Tyniria?” the captain asked. “I thought you said you wanted passage to Balax?”

  “We do,” Zokar explained. “However, after completing our business there we’ll need to get to Tyniria and with the Kesh blockades we may need to have you smuggle us on shore there. You haven’t lost any of your abilities in trafficking illegal goods or illegitimate people, have you?”

  “Nope,” The captain grinned. “Still have a wee bit of talent in that department. I’m sure we can get you in if that’s what your intent on doing.”

  “Good, then let’s get moving. We have garbage to take out and sails to prep.”

  Captain Crimson nodded and didn’t question the assassin further. Instead he barked a few orders and several deck hands appeared and in quick order they brought rope to tie the hands of the pirates. With some effort, they managed to load the dinghy with all ten pirates, cramped as it was, and set them to drift on the incoming tide that was following the twin moons of Agon which had set an hour earlier.

  Damien had informed them that the men would most likely sleep well until noon when the sun would start to stimulate the men’s senses and the spell would fade. Four of the crew had been killed in the initial raid and twice that number were seriously injured. From the dead sailors they managed to fish out enough fresh clothing and cloaks to the travelling companions and allow them to tie and hang their wet clothes along the stern gunwale to dry.

  They didn’t have long to wait before the tide rolled in and the dragon’s fire rose on the eastern horizon lighting up the small cove with rays of orange and red. It would take a couple more hours before Dor Akun rose on the eastern horizon. Each day it grew larger foreboding its imminent arrival and the allegedly prophesied impending doom for the inhabitants of Claire Agon.

  A slight breeze picked up and the men hoisted the sails and attempted to tack their way onto the high seas. The Captain noticed that several of their sails had been sabotaged with cuts in them allowing the wind to escape. They used the ones that they could and left the rest furled. Once free from the cove, the Captain headed away from the shore line stating that he felt certain there were scouts observing movement along the coast.

  They could barely see the shore when the crow’s nest lookout shouted a warning. “Ahoy, mast to stern closing fast.”

  The group ran to the stern of the ship and looked north at a small point that was slowly rising above the horizon. “What is it?” Zokar asked.

  “Eastern corsairs,” Captain Crimson answered. “Probably the same ones that commandeered our ship.”

  “Can you outrun them?” Zokar asked.

  “I could if I had a full compliment of sails at my disposal.”

  Zokar nodded, looking at the gaping holes on their triple masts where the sky was visible as the sails there were still furled due to them being cut. “It seems their commander knew what he was doing.”

  Captain Crimson nodded but shouted his orders anyway, “Unfurl everything we got mates, on the double.”

  Diamedes looked forward and counted while the crewmen did as they were instructed. The added sails helped, but it was obvious that the wind was blowing through each sail that was cut. Turning back he asked, “Captain, do you think there is another way to lose them?”

  Captain crimson shook his head. “Doubtful. We most likely have a shallower draft, but we’d have to get too close to the shore for that and they could simply parallel us till they have a chance to close and board.”

  “What about nightfall, could we lose them then?” Diamedes pressed.

  “Not likely,” Crimson continued. “The twins are bright and out here the starlight is more than enough to glint off our sails and be visible even at several leagues distance.”

  “Then we fight,” Azor said, hefting his hammer and giving a look indicating that he would relish a battle with the pirates.

  Crimson frowned before clarifying, “The corsairs had more than three score of the meanest, nastiest fighters I’ve seen in over a decade. I doubt even with the renown of your party that a couple dozen of us will prevail over them if they pulled up alongside to board us.”

  “Then you don’t know the power of the Kesh,” Dour said, nodding at Damien.

  “Can your wizard to something out here at sea?” the captain asked.

  “Of course he can,” Dour said. Then turning to Damien he asked in a lower tone, “You can do something can’t ya?”

  “The usual,” Damien responded. His skin was mostly pink now with a few blotches of grey-black as the healing talamans had gone to work. The Kesh looked ten times better and his appearance didn’t frighten the crew members too much. “Fire seems to be a safe bet when dealing with a wooden ship.”

  Crimson sighed. “Then I guess it’s one wizard and a score of us against four or five time that number of them.”

  “You sound defeated,” Diamedes asked. “Do they have anything else other than conventional weapons to use on us?”

  “Catapults,” Crimson said. “Fire ones at that.”

  “Then its fire against fire,” Dour said, twirling his weapon in the air and giving Azor an approving look.

  Zokar looked back and then at their own ship before addressing the group. “I have one idea that can work as well.”

  “What would that be?” Dour asked for the group.

  Zokar looked back at the pirates then turning his neck around they all saw a feral grin as the Balarian said, “We summon a dragon.”

  “Are you mad?” Crimson asked, breaking with protocol and speaking to a superior in a less than respectful way.

  “How do you plan on doing that?” Dour asked, curious to say the least.

  “It’s that dagger that Diamedes has. I believe it can draw a dragon to it when its magic is active.” Zokar explained.

  “Why do you think that?” Diamedes asked.

  Zokar shrugged. “The story you told of how you used it to help kill a great red as well as how another fire breathing dragon was drawn right to us in the middle of nowhere. Finally, I’d say the way that last red dragon acted when we were on the Onyx Tower, I’m willing to bet it has this ability.”

  The entire group, captain included, looked at Diamedes who could only hold his empty hands up in his defense. “I’d have thought the High Mage would have taken it from me if it had such an ability.”

  “You know what its capable of,” Zokar said, a statement not a question.

  Diamedes sighed. “It’s powerful, though I never imagined it could influence events the way it has. Perhaps you’re right, but if you’re not, then we’re back to square one.”

  “I rather prefer square one,” the captain said, looking at his passengers. “I can’t think of anything worse than bringing a fire breathing dragon down on our ship. You’re asking for cer
tain destruction.”

  “I didn’t say to bring it down on our ship,” Zokar said. “I’d rather hope that it would target their ship.”

  “How exactly do you propose to do that, Balarian?” Dour asked.

  It was Zokar’s turn to sigh and he looked at Diamedes, “We give them the historian.”

  Chapter 10

  Chase

  “Boat ahead,” the bow watchman cried out. “One league off.”

  “Are you sure?” the corsair leader asked. “I can still see their mast two leagues distant.”

  The watchman from his perch on the bow cried back, “I’m positive sir, it’s low in the water but visible against the sun’s glare.”

  “He speaks truly sir,” the cry from the crow’s nest high above came down to their ears. “We see it from up here too.”

  “Empty?” the leader asked.

  “At least one person moving about, though hard to say at this distance,” the first watchman replied.

  The second in command leaned in close to his commander and said, “I told you we should have cut more of their sails. We’re hardly gaining on them.”

  The leader didn’t look at his second, but if he had the man’s gaze would have been one of warning as was the tone of his reply, “Next time I’ll cut more sail and include your tongue as well. It wags too much for my liking.”

  The second leaned back and refrained from making a life reducing comment, instead focusing on the task at hand. “We’re not even sure the bounty is on that ship.”

  “Our informant has never been wrong. One more score and we’re set for life.” The leader seemed content at the change in topic.

  “If there remains anything left to pillage or any place left to retire to, considering the stories we’ve heard of the great dragons coming from the north.” The second said.

  The corsair leading turned to look at his newly appointed second, one that was done at the behest of their employer and one done unwillingly by the leader. Seeing the man’s full attention, he responded, “It matters not what the great beasts do to these realms as long as we’re safe far to the southeast. There has never been a report of any creature, large or small, dangerous enough to warrant our concern in any of our known centuries.”

  “There’s a first time for everything,” The second said.

  “Just make sure we pick up whatever they discarded. They’re probably trying to slow us down.” The leader said, turning his gaze back from the high stern castle where they were standing looking past the bow and at their prey. “I smell a trap.”

  “This is a bad idea,” Diamedes said from his seat in the skiff where he was seated alone.

  Zokar’s muffled voice responded from below the seats where a secret smuggling compartment concealed him. “You’ve said that already.”

  “Three times to be exact,” Dour said, his voice also muffled.

  Azor’s clear voice came from the bow of the small ship where he was bobbing up and down in the water, holding onto the small rope tied to a hook eye on the skiff. “You all complain too much. Relish the fight soon to come.”

  “Speak for yourself Barbarian,” Damien said, reverting to a less than formal term for his companion indicating that the Kesh wizard wasn’t pleased by Zokar’s plan either. “You’re not stuffed in here with these two.”

  “Now that ain’t right,” Dour said.

  “I meant it more for the assassin,” Damien said, his voice softer.

  Zokar spoke, “I’m right next to you.”

  “Well your plan seems foolish now.” Damien said.

  “Did your magic work?” Zokar asked.

  “You saw the dagger light up yourself,” Damien responded. “I am surprised a dragon has not showed up already to burn you to a crisp. Trust me, it is no fun.”

  Diamedes pulled on the edge of his robe where his dagger was tucked into a small scabbard attached inside the belt that was tightened outside the robe. Even in broad daylight the dagger was lit in a bright blue color. The only times it had ever done that before was in the presence of one of the dragons. What Damien had done Diamedes did not know, but he felt exposed and vulnerable on a little boat bobbing in the ocean. “It’s still glowing.”

  “Good,” Zokar said. “Remember the plan. If they are still after the bounty on Diamedes they won’t kill him. Stay calm and wait for my signal.”

  “They’ll take the dagger,” Dour stated, pessimistic as usual.

  “I’m counting on it,” Zokar said. “Better not to be close to it when the time comes.”

  There was a long pause when Diamedes spoke again. “This is a bad idea.”

  The groans came in unison before Azor, the only one to seem optimistic at the prospect of battling not only pirates but a dragon spoke in an excited tone. “They are turning slightly headed directly at us. They will be here shortly.”

  “You still feel you can swim under their ship?” Diamedes asked, turning to look over his shoulder at the sleek, but larger, pirate ship that had a robust keel and sank into the water a good several feet.

  “Children’s play.” Azor answered.

  “That would be child’s play,” Dour said, a tinge of contempt in his voice.

  Not where I come from,” Azor said. “Our children play together, not alone.”

  Dour sighed but refrained from speaking. Zokar felt he had to retain command of the group since this was his plan and he felt responsible. “Remember, Diamedes, make a commotion and let them find the dagger.”

  Diamedes responded, “Oh, I’ll make a commotion of course. I’m still slightly worried that the High Mage changed the bounty to dead only.”

  “He would not do that,” Damien said, sticking up for his leader’s honor despite being at odds with the man.

  “Anything is possible,” Diamedes said. “Besides, its my life we risk to find out.”

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” Zokar responded.

  “Are you sure these pirates will hoist the skiff onto their ship?” Damien asked.

  “They probably won’t,” Zokar explained. “They will most likely tow it behind their ship or pull it up behind the stern.”

  “I would think they would sink it,” Damien said.

  “No, it’s worth too much for them. It’ll fetch quite a few silvers on any market, and pirates don’t leave plunder or spoils around. They’ll keep the skiff,” Zokar said.

  “If you’re wrong, we’ll drown,” Dour pointed out the obvious.

  “They’re heading this way, a few minutes out,” Diamedes updated his companions who couldn’t see the approaching pirate ship.

  “You’re sure that captain friend of yours will turn at dusk and come back for us?” Dour asked, his voice hard to hear topside.

  “He’s in the commission of my realm,” Zokar explained. “He’ll do it.”

  “Didn’t seem too keen on taking on dem pirates or a great wyrm,” Dour added.

  “Neither are we, but we’ll do what we have to do,” Zokar said. “Diamedes, let us know when they’re just outside of earshot. We need to remain perfectly silent during your encounter.”

  That seemed to say more than anything else as Diamedes simply grunted in the affirmative and no one else spoke further. When the ship was close to them Diamedes spoke, “They’re furling sails now.”

  “Then they’re slowing down to pick us up,” Dour said.

  “Quiet,” Zokar commanded. “No more talking except for Diamedes. Azor, be ready to submerge and don’t let them see you.”

  Azor grunted as well and kept low in the water using the skiff to block anyone’s view from the pirate ship so that he remained unseen. When the ship arrived, voice called out,” Prepare to come aboard.”

  A small splash was heard as Azor dove beneath the water. Another voice from the larger ship yelled, “Don’t move or we’ll shoot you.”

  Diamedes replied, “I’ve got my hands up, no need to make threats.”

  “Are you alone?” a voice asked as grappling hook
s tackled the skiff and suddenly pulled it alongside the larger pirate vessel as it still carried considerable momentum despite furling its sails and tacking hard to port in order to bleed off speed and pull alongside the much smaller skiff.

  “Yes, they banished me to the high seas,” Diamedes lamented.

  Dour’s groan was barely audible as the cleric tried to remain silent but struggled at the acting display that Diamedes was performing. Diamedes could only imagine Zokar with a dagger held to the cleric’s throat in an effort to force him into silence. The thought seemed comical and Diamedes didn’t realize he was silently stifling a chuckle. “What’s so funny,” a pirate asked as a length of rope was thrown over and two other pirates shimmied down its length to board the small skiff.

  “Nothing,” Diamedes said, quickly wiping away any smirk or grin that would give him away. It was silly really. The historian was in danger and Diamedes found the irony of his situation both grim and humorous. The plan was looking to be more and more like a bad idea and how the five of them would take on twenty times that number of grim faced, blood thirsty pirates was beyond even his imagination.

  “Boat’s secure, skipper,” one of the two pirates said calling up from where he tied the length of rope to the bow hook eye.

  A rope ladder was then thrown over the side and a man yelled out an order, “Furl sails, resume the hunt.”

  Several cheers erupted from on board the ship and the second pirate on the skiff spoke in a low tone to Diamedes, “Go ahead and climb the ladder. Get yourself on board before the captain gets angry.”

  The man almost seemed kind by pirate standards and Diamedes simply nodded and moved to the ladder. Acting the part of an ailing, old man, he took great lengths to show that it was difficult to ascend. A voice from above must have noticed, “Give the old man a hand.”

  Two more rope ladders dropped, one on either side of Diamedes and a pair of sprite, young men descended to Diamedes’ location and grabbed an arm leaving the poor historian to try to ascend the ladder with only his feet on the rope. To their credit, the pirates held firm grips on him and in quick order arms and hands grabbed his robe and hauled him over the gunwale onto the deck of the ship.