Tales of the Old World (35 page)

Pugh recognised the restlessness amongst his men, and knew that he had to
think of something fast. He knew that his lads weren’t above following his own
past example of slitting the captain’s throat and making a quick getaway, no
doubt led by a new leader rapidly self-promoted from the ranks. Pugh licked his
lips and fidgeted with his hook, beady eyes scouring the jungle for signs of
life. The path was well trodden, that was sure enough, but whether it actually
went anywhere…

“Cap’n, here!” Yin-Tuan’s excited voice broke the oppressive silence. Pugh
spat on the sand and smiled, wiping a grimy cuff across his sweaty brow. He
hurried up to where the first mate and “Teachy” Bligh stood at a bend in the path
with swords drawn and wolfish grins. A small stream could be heard running over
rocks somewhere close by, and a pile of skulls indicated some kind of warning.
The pirates ignored it, staring ahead around the bend.

“Aaargh!” exclaimed Pugh, beaming roundly and slapping his first mate on the
back. Yin-Tuan coughed and swallowed a chunk of chewing tobacco, grimacing at
the vile taste. “Aaargh! Didn’t I say as how we would catch em?”

Yin-Tuan and Bligh nodded, raising cruel swords as their captain gestured for
the rest of the pirates to catch up. Soon a gaggle of cruel-eyed thieves and
cut-throats peered around the corner, grinning and chuckling at the sight of the
lizardman village laid out undefended before them. The pyramid in the centre of
the village did not attract a second glance as the pirates spread out to begin
the looting.

“Lets burn it to the ground, boys!” shouted Pugh. “That’ll bring the newts
a-runnin’, I’ll warrant!”

Within a few minutes the first huts were burning, black smoke rising straight
into the still dead air, no wind to disperse or blow it away. A few minutes
later, the pirates discovered the beer vat, to evil cheers of great delight.

Amidst the carnage, Pugh stood on the bottom step of the pyramid with
Yin-Tuan and Bligh. “Very good, me lads, this’ll do nicely! Reckon they’ll be
back any minute now, eh?”

Bligh just grinned wickedly and held up a razor-sharp cutlass until its
silver blade glinted in the sunlight, reflecting the warm blue of the sea behind
them through a break in the jungle canopy. Something caught his eye, and he
suddenly looked away, across the clearing. “What the—” he began, well-honed
murderous instincts immediately to the fore, but his fears were quashed as a
multi-coloured bird broke cover with a raucous atonal squawk which belied its
beautiful red plumage. It fluttered and flapped clumsily to another tree, where
it perched nervously on a topmost branch, obviously readying itself for more
prolonged flight.

“Losing yer nerve, Mr. Bligh?” Pugh enquired, and all the pirates in earshot
laughed appreciatively. Pugh secretly thought that perhaps Mr. Bligh was getting
a little too big for his stolen gentry boots, and it wouldn’t hurt if they were
one less officer when they rejoined the ship. He grinned condescendingly at his
second officer, who scowled back at him. Hook Black Pugh was happy. Things
looked to be turning out just right after all.

Johan ducked down, both so that his head would not scrape against the roof,
and also to avoid the slashing blade of the sword wielded by a lizard who was
frothing at the mouth with uncontrolled rage. Keanu had taught the skinks only
too well “Da Vay off da Berzerka”. The boat rocked alarmingly, and Johan
grabbed at the bulwark to stop himself going overboard into the cold water.

The hissing groans of dead and dying lizards reverberated chillingly around
the cave as the Marauders desperately tried to cast off. Blow-darts, spears and
arrows hissed through the air all around them, and several struck the boat with
dull thunks as they splintered the wood.

Grimcrag held the stern, his axe carving a glittering figure of eight in the
damp air, an arc which no lizardman had so far stepped into and survived. Jiriki
was at the dragon prow, shooting with deadly precision into the mass of reptiles
which heaved around the small dock where the boat’s stern was still tethered.
Every so often, the elf turned and squinted at the diminishing arch of light
which was the cave mouth.

“Cast off, for pity’s sake, Keanu, cast off now!” Jiriki screamed, loosing
another arrow into the throng. “I have few arrows left, and we have no time at
all!”

In the stern, ducking to avoid spears and darts, Keanu fumbled with the knot
with which Grimcrag had secured the boat. “Left unta Right und through… nyet,
dammit! Right ova Left und bak… Nyet!”

Glancing down from his position at the stern, Grimcrag sighed as he saw the
mess Keanu was making. “For heavens sake, meathead, it’s a simple bendshank!”
The dwarf tried swinging his axe one-handed and leaning back to undo the rope,
but his gnarled and stubby fingers could not quite reach. As the dwarf looked
away, momentarily distracted, the skinks took their chances and swarmed towards
the stern. Three were instantly decapitated, the glowing runes on Old
Slaughterer hissing and flashing as the awful blade did its bloody work. The
blade snagged on bone deep in the fourth lizardman’s body, and Grimcrag almost
toppled over as his momentum was abruptly stopped. Blood boiled from the
lizardman’s mouth as it collapsed on the killing blade.

“Bugger!”

“Kill them yessssss!” the lizards screamed as they swarmed up the side of the
boat. There were so many of them now that they threatened to overturn the small
craft, overloaded as it was with carefully boxed-up gold and jewels.

Grimcrag tried desperately to fend them off from his kneeling position in the
bilges, as Keanu redoubled his efforts with the knots. The fight was now too
close in for arrow work, and Jiriki’s blade was a cold streak in the dappled
light.

“By all the gods let’s go!”

“Unnh! These floorboards ain’t well made, them’s all splinters. Not so quick,
frogface!”

“Left unda Right unda back unda dammit dammit DAMMIT!”

Without really thinking what he was doing, Johan plunged into the fray, sword
stabbing to left and right. Needle teeth snapped at him, scant inches from his
face, and he seemed to be surrounded by a wall of steel and claws and sharpened
stone axe-heads. The sharp smell of lizard washed over him, a mix of rubber and
fish-heads, and scaly arms reached out to drag him from the boat.

Not to be stopped, Johan stabbed and thrust, peering into the gloom until he
saw what he sought—the rope at the point where it passed over the rim of the
boat side. His sword raised over his head before descending in a flashing arc. A
burly lizardman blinked in comprehension and tried to stop the wicked blade,
only to have his arm severed cleanly below the elbow. Black-blue blood
fountained over Johan. The sword parted the rope and thwacked into the bulwark
with such force that it was stuck fast. Even with a two-handed grip, Johan could
not drag it free.

All around him, lizards hung onto the boat to prevent it drifting into the
cave, and cold eyes stared at the ex-Imperial envoy. A forest of blades inclined
towards him, and time slowed to a standstill. A face he recognised grinned
evilly, twisted into a malevolent parody of the creature he had once counted as
a friend. It wielded a spear in both hands, and as it thrust forward, Johan saw
his death in the glittering black orbs of its eyes.

“Froggo, nooooo!”

“Ansssssstein oh yesssssss!”

At the last moment, Johan felt himself thrown backwards by the scruff of the
neck by what could only be described as heavily muscled fingers. A massive sword
cleaved the air, barely slowing as it cleaved Froggo too. In the same gracefully
deadly movement, and with barely a shift in his stance, Keanu reversed the blade
and swept its razor edge along the side of the boat. A great hissing wail
resounded, and a moment later the boat began to drift into the middle of the
cave. Sitting up in the bilges, Johan was almost sick as he saw the row of
perhaps a dozen clawed lizard paws still clutching the side of the boat like the
broken sutures of a macabre wound.

“Get rowing!” Jiriki yelled, and Johan grabbed vaguely at an oar. Grimcrag
was already pulling with a vengeance, and the heavily laden boat surged gamely
towards the rapidly diminishing entrance. Even Johan could see that the water in
the cave was almost at the high tide mark, and he doubted whether there was
already any room for the miniature Norse longboat to clear the cave.

A rasping, scraping grinding sound assured him that he was right, when the
proud dragon prow caught on the craggy rock of the cave roof. The boat ground to
a halt immediately, throwing Keanu hard onto a heavy crate and ripping the oar
from Jiriki’s hands.

The elf lowered his head and closed his eyes. “We’ve lost!” he whispered.
“We’re really stuck here now… and even we can’t beat all the lizards on this
forsaken island.”

Johan looked around wildly. Jiriki was right, there was no way that the boat
was going any further. The cave roof sloped down towards the entrance, and their
boat was firmly wedged in place by the ornate dragon headed prow. Glancing
shoreward, he could see that the water was boiling as the lizardmen hurled
themselves into the water and began swimming towards their frail craft. Johan
knew in his heart what the skinks intended: they would turn the boat over and
drown the Marauders by sheer weight of numbers and their superior aquatic
fighting skills.

“It can’t end like this!” Johan shouted, looking around for some way of
escape, there was none. Despair clutched at his heart.

“Unngh!” grunted Keanu, clutching weakly at his sword, the wind knocked from
his lungs by the impact with the heavy crate.

“Heads down, everyone!” Grimcrag shouted cheerfully, leaving barely a second
for the Marauders to act on his sage advice, as once more Old Slaughterer was
pulled back for a mighty swing. As he dove for the deck, Johan could see the
sheer, grim, bloody minded expression which belied the dwarf’s easy words. As the
blade swung back, Johan could have sworn that he caught the words, “Shan’t—have—me—gold!” expelled through gritted dwarf teeth, and then the axe was
hurtling towards its target. And Johan understood Grimcrag’s intent the split
second before the axe ripped through the proud dragon prow, sundering four feet
of very solid and seasoned wood as though it was the pulpy flesh of an overripe
fruit.

From his position on the crate, Keanu could only gulp appreciatively, heaving
air into his lungs as he recovered his breath.

“That’ll do nicely, eh?” Grimcrag gasped, gesturing over his shoulder with a
callused thumb. “Now we’d best get a move on, as we have company on the way!”

Johan and Jiriki needed no second bidding, and were already at their oars,
pulling for all their might. Together, their efforts just matched those of
Keanu, who heaved mightily on the opposite oar, corded muscles standing out on
his neck and shoulders. Freed from the grip of the rocky roof, the boat leapt
forwards almost eagerly, and Johan reckoned that with their lower profile, they
might make it after all. Just. If they ducked.

“Pity; that figurehead was the best bit of the boat I reckon, good solid
timber crafted by a skilled carpenter!” Grimcrag’s voice drifted wistfully
across the cave.

“Shut up and grab an oar!” came the chorus back.

“Aaargh! Yes, me lads!” Hook Black Pugh beamed, surveying the burning
village. “This’ll do very nicely indeed!” Well satisfied with the pillaging so
far, Pugh grinned broadly, scratching at his stubbled chin with the business end
of his hook.

A few yards away, invisibly merged with the jungle, several hundred skinks
looked on with murder in their cold eyes, sharp daggers, spears, bows and
poisoned darts awaited the signal, for they were determined that none would
escape. “When red bird flysssss away…” a feather-bedecked lizardman with
blue-black skin hissed ominously.

If Bligh had not been so distracted by the flight of the brightly coloured
bird, he might have noticed movement in the reflection in his highly polished
blade. But even if he had seen it, he would probably have thought he was seeing
things. For who could believe a smallish, makeshift mongrel boat, piled up with
crates and so low in the water that it looked near to sinking… or the tiny
reflection of the dwarf waving rudely at him from the tiller?

As it was, he saw nothing but an ugly red bird which caused his mates to
laugh at him. And if there was one thing he hated, it was being made fun of. So
he just stood at the base of the pyramid and fomented murderous plans for his
captain. “No one makes fun of Arbuthnot Bligh,” he muttered, and death was in
his eyes.

With an ungainly flapping of scarlet wings, the strange bird took flight.

“You know,” began Grimcrag, lounging on a hammock strung up on the poop deck
of what was up until very recently an abandoned pirate ship, “I don’t think this
could have worked out much better if I’d planned it.”

“You mean you didn’t?” Jiriki chided in mock surprise, from his place in the
shade of the mainmast.

Grimcrag ignored the elf and continued ticking off their successes on the
callused fingers of his left hand. “We’ve got a ship, lizard gold, our
Bretonnian gold back, had a holiday…” The dwarf glanced around the poop deck.
“Have I forgotten anything?”

“Vot ’bout da Frogmeat stew?” Keanu shouted from the crow’s nest. “Dat vas
gut!”

“I still can’t believe you actually cooked him,” Johan muttered sulkily.
“Just ’cos he tried to force you to crew the ship with lizards.”

“You saw what he was going to do with that there spear, lad, let’s not
forget, eh?” He wagged a finger remonstratively at the ex-Imperial envoy. “Him
or us lad, him or us. And you do like a bit of crackling as much as the next
man!”

Johan brightened up a little at the mention of crackling, and looked over the
stern of the vessel. The sun glittered on the wake of the ship, and seagulls
danced in the air, no doubt hoping for any detritus from the Marauders’ last
meal. “You won’t find any crackling!” Johan shouted through cupped hands, but
his voice was lost in the wind in the sails.