Call of the Herald (32 page)

"Break ahead!" the lookout called from the
crow's nest, and they all looked in the direction he was pointing,
knowing they needed to get free of the confining reef and reach the
open seas. "Enemy ships charging the break, sir! They're going to
beat us there!" he rang out a moment later.

"Prepare for contact!" Kenward commanded. The
crew moved with the swiftness of experience. They armed themselves,
secured lines, and erected a protective enclosure around the helm.
The captain climbed the rigging and joined the lookout, and when he
climbed down, he was issuing a steady stream of curses.

"You'd best get to your cabin, Catrin. We may
be boarded, and there'll most likely be fighting on deck. Please
remove yourself from harm," he pleaded.

"While those around me risk their lives, I
will not run and hide, Kenward. I am neither weak nor afraid."

"Do you know how to use one of these?" he
asked, drawing his sword.

"I'm better with a bow, but I can wield a
sword when I must."

Kenward nodded and sent Bryn after a short
sword and a bow. Bryn handed Catrin the sword in its leather
scabbard. She drew it out to inspect it. The heavy blade was
awkward in her hand, and she sheathed it, hoping she wouldn't have
to use it. The bow was larger than she was accustomed to, but she
could draw it. Slinging the quiver over her shoulder, she turned
her attention to the Zjhon.

As they drew closer to the gap in the reef,
Catrin noticed an unusual apparatus on the bow of a Zjhon ship, but
she didn't know what it was. The Zjhon ships stayed back, away from
the breach, but they were close enough to close the distance
quickly, especially with the high winds to drive them.

"Bloody mother of a ballista! Those common
som'bits," Kenward ranted.

Catrin had never heard of a ballista, but
when she looked again at the ship, she was appalled. The ballista
resembled a crossbow, only much larger--far larger than any weapon
she had ever imagined. A supply of huge bolts, which were the
trunks of small trees, lay beside it. She didn't know if the
Slippery Eel
could survive any hits from such a massive
weapon, and she dreaded the impact and aftermath if any struck
their mark
.

"We're going to have to rush 'em and get the
other ships between us and the ballista. We'll be vulnerable for a
time, but I'm going to try to make that time as short as possible.
That thing'll make a loud noise when they fire it, so be ready to
take cover when you hear it," Kenward said. "We're going to shoot
the gap at full speed, and then we'll head straight for those two
ships. Be ready to repel boarding attempts; you all know the drill.
For you newcomers: If it comes from the other ship, kill it. If it
attacks you, kill it. And remember to cover my back."

"I will be proud to fight beside skilled and
honorable men," Vertook shouted, and a cheer rose up from everyone
on deck.

Though the
break looked plenty wide enough from afar, it sloped down gradually
on each side, leaving only a narrow channel. Going through it at
full speed seemed folly, and the crew and passengers shared a
nearly palpable anxiety. The gap rushed toward them, faster than
seemed possible.

The way looked clear, but still they braced
themselves as the ship entered the channel. Dark water closed
around them, and the
Eel
slowed and spun, scraping along the
reef. The vessel creaked and groaned, struggling to break free, but
the impact left it perpendicular to the reef, the waves threatening
to drive the ship atop it. Kenward was busy shouting commands, but
he stopped suddenly at the sound of an awesome thrum.

"Take cover!" he shouted. The ballista bolt
arched across the sky and struck the mainsail with a dreadful
tearing sound. Kenward shouted more orders, and the crew rushed
back into action. Bryn sprinted by with a long needle between his
teeth and a ball of heavy string in hand. He scrambled up the
rigging to the tear, which was steadily growing larger, but he got
ahead of the ripping and continued to mend it, at times holding
onto nothing but the sail itself.

Again the ballista thrummed, and Bryn stopped
stitching just in time to brace himself. This bolt struck the sail
higher, tearing another large hole, but after piercing the sail, it
glanced off the mast and whipped around violently. Bryn didn't see
the blow coming and was struck in the back of the head. He went
limp, and Kenward yelled for a net to catch him.

Tangled in the stitching, Bryn's arm was all
that kept him from falling. When he opened his eyes, he gasped as
he realized his predicament. His movements were sluggish and
awkward as he regained his grip on the rigging.

"I'll be fine," he said, but then he braced
himself as the ballista fired again. The ship dipped low amid the
growing waves, and the shot flew harmlessly over the bow, the rough
seas and high winds saving them from being struck. Despite his
injury, Bryn persisted, and he slowly and deliberately climbed to
the other tear and began stitching.

While the attention of the crew had been
focused on the ballista ship, the Zjhon had taken full advantage.
Another ship was headed toward them on the starboard side at
ramming speed. The
Eel
spun slowly away from the approaching
ship.

As the Zjhon ship came within bow range,
Catrin nocked an arrow and drew. Looking down her shaft, she
located a target. He was young and wore a look of determination and
fear. There was no hatred in his eyes, only duty. She hesitated and
closed her eyes, but in her mind's eye, she saw a Zjhon shaft
strike down Irvil of the Sun clan. As quick as thought, she rotated
and found a new target: the man giving orders. Her fingers slipped
from the string and the arrow sped through the air.

The man Catrin assumed was the captain of the
Zjhon ship shouted one last order before he dropped over the side,
her shaft protruding from his chest. Still the ship came and struck
a glancing blow that sent the ships careening away from one
another.

The Zjhon ship was much larger than the
Slippery Eel,
and it rode higher in the water. Sailors
leaped from the height to the decks of the
Eel.
Many landed
without injury, but some were knocked unconscious when they hit the
deck, and others missed the ship completely and plunged into the
raging depths.

One sailor landed not far from where Catrin
stood, and she drew her short sword. The man smirked, seeing an
easy victim, and he waved his sword menacingly. He approached
slowly at first then suddenly sprung at her. Catrin was ready for
his attack. She dropped to the deck, kicked him hard in the groin,
and prepared to swing at his ankles. As he reeled from her kick,
though, the anger on his face changed to utter surprise when Bryn
swung down from the rigging and kicked him squarely in the chest.
The sailor dropped over the railing without another sound, but Bryn
lost his grip while fully extended and fell, faceup, landing hard.
He looked up at Catrin, moaned, then passed out.

When he did not wake, Catrin dragged him to
the deckhouse and into the first cabin. She tried to comfort him
before leaving, feeling that she should stay by his side but not
knowing what else to do for him. When she returned to the deck,
most of the fighting was over. Nat and a crewman forced a final
tenacious sailor over the railing and looked for anyone else left
to fight. Kenward issued roll call, and eight men failed to report,
including Bryn.

"Bryn was hurt in the fight. He banged his
head twice and was knocked out. I took him to the first cabin."
Kenward was overjoyed to learn Bryn was still with them, and he
hugged her, kissed her on the forehead, and rushed to the
deckhouse. Catrin joined the cheers when a crewman was pulled from
the water. Six men lost were far too many, but it was much better
than seven or eight.

The man at the helm earned his keep, swiftly
putting distance between them and the Zjhon ships, all the while
keeping a Zjhon ship between them and the ballista ship. As they
sped northwest, aiming for open seas, they trimmed the sails to
take full advantage of the wind while the Zjhon ships lumbered in
sluggish pursuit. The gap steadily grew, and the crew became less
tense, but as the northwestern tip of the Godfist came into view,
their spirits dropped.

"Sails ahead, sir! I count a dozen northwest
and three northeast! Zjhon outpost to the northeast and more ships
on the horizon, sir!" called the lookout. The Zjhon had constructed
a huge lift system for raising men and supplies to the mountain
valley high above the sea. Luckily, it appeared mostly abandoned,
and only three ships were moored in the harbor. Catrin began to
feel much as she had when escaping from the desert--trapped--and
the noose was tightening.

Kenward changed course, angling between the
ships approaching from the makeshift docks and those still out to
sea. Ominous storm clouds darkened the western horizon, casting a
depressing pall over the crew. Webs of lightning illuminated the
clouds, and as the sound of thunder grew closer to the lightning,
the wind intensified.

The crew of the
Slippery Eel
pushed
her to her limits, using more sail than was advisable in high
winds, and the ship groaned in protest as it tore through the
massive waves. Even with the speed advantage, it became obvious
they would not be able to evade all the Zjhon ships. Whether the
ships were part of a massive trap or were simply returning to
harbor to wait out the storm didn't matter. It looked as if the
Slippery Eel
would be trapped between the Zjhon ships and
the Godfist.

Huge, growing swells crashed over the rails
and forced everyone on deck to hold on to something. Many fled for
the deckhouse, but Catrin fought her way to where Kenward had
rooted himself near the helm.

"I don't know which I fear the most," he
admitted. "The storm alone could put an end to us, and there are
far too many Zjhon ships to avoid. Every option appears to be
suicide, and I cannot decide which death I prefer."

Catrin knew in that moment that it was time
for her to test her powers again. "Make for the center of the
Pinook harbor," she said. Kenward raised an eyebrow and considered
her a moment, seemingly trying to decide if she knew what she was
talking about.

"The center of the harbor? Are you certain
about that?" he asked.

"I am as certain as I've ever been about
anything. There is no path that would not likely lead to our deaths
except this one. Is there anyone with another plan?" she asked.
"Make for the center of the harbor," she repeated after an
uncomfortable silence. "When we arrive, drop anchor and prepare to
ride out the storm."

Kenward seemed convinced by the force of her
convictions, gave a simple nod, and the crew did what they knew to
do without another order.

Darkness fell earlier than usual as storm
clouds blotted out much of the remaining light and bands of
horizontal rain pelted the crew. The winds forced them to lower
part of their sails, and yet they still managed to maintain their
speed. The seas were impossibly high. When in the troughs, Catrin
could see nothing but walls of water on either side of the ship,
and it looked as though they would be engulfed and sunk at any
moment.

The
Slippery Eel
entered the Pinook
harbor in relative darkness and made for the deeps. Many Zjhon
ships were already in the harbor, though most had dropped anchor in
preparation for the approaching storm. Many were still making for
the harbor and could effectively block their only route of escape.
Catrin knew they had reached the point of no return, and as she
looked at the crew, all eyes were on her. Holding her amulet
tightly, she prayed . . .

* * *

Staring at the familiar knots in the richly
grained wood of his cabin walls, Kenward wondered if this was the
last day he would spend on the
Slippery Eel.
Memories of his
first ship, the
Kraken's Claw,
flooded his mind with every
sight and sound of her sinking. Wringing his hands, he prayed this
was not another mistake.

Catrin seemed sincere in her convictions, but
escape from the harbor would be nearly impossible. Only the
intervention of the gods could save him this time, and he could
only hope they had not lost patience with him. Though he was not
usually a religious or superstitious man, he found himself walking
to the rails and tossing a gold coin into the dark waters, an
offering to the sea.

Having done what he could do, Kenward
returned to his cabin, hoping it was enough.

Chapter 22

The most awesome powers are those not
wielded.

--Enoch Giest, the First One

* * *

The journey to the center of the harbor ahead
appeared endless to the crew of the
Slippery Eel.
The Zjhon
ships already in port were secured for the storm, and they remained
where they were anchored. It seemed no one noticed the smaller
pirate ship, and nothing barred their path. Even if they had seen
her, it would have taken hours for the large ships to pull up their
many anchors and raise and set their sails. The Zjhon ships
following them into the harbor were so busy contending with the
storm that they had to concentrate on survival rather than
pursuit.

Catrin, alone for a moment, let her mind turn
to a myriad of thoughts and emotions that she attempted to process.
She didn't know if her friends were safe, and she felt a pang of
loneliness and loss when she thought of them. When she thought of
her father and her uncle Jensen, her heart nearly broke.

Her thoughts flashed to memories of the
animals on the farm: the horses, cats, and all her cherished
companions. She hoped Salty and the other horses were in green
pastures, and that Millie and the other cats had found good
hunting. Tears slid down her cheeks, but she stifled her grieving,
knowing she would need to focus her energy on survival.