Duchess Rampant, page 20
Once again, he chanced a look at the following ships. They seemed a little bigger now, which meant they were gaining on the heavy Dreranough, which ran fast, but not as fast as a ship built for speed. Since they were gaining, he decided to wait until they were seen by someone on the deck before implementing his plan. He turned away from the ships so as not to give them away and waited.
In the meantime, Kaiti had succeeded in grabbing one of the spindles and pulling herself up high enough that her knees could rest painfully on the edge of the lowered porthole cover. Looking through the bars, she saw Darius lying on a bunk with his back to her. “Darius!” She hissed as loudly as she could, wanting to get his attention and no one else’s. “Darius!”
Darius turned, not believing what he’d just heard. He looked first to the door, which remained tightly shut.
“Darius! Over here.” Kaiti waived her hand through the bars and Darius shot up from his bunk and practically ran to the end of the chain attached to the wall behind him. “Kaiti!” He kept his voice low, nervously glancing back at the door every few seconds. “What are you doing? How did you get here?”
The bars were slick and Kaiti was having difficulty holding on. Her eyes widened with fear when Darius turned panicked eyes her way and pointed at the door. “He’s coming back!”
Thinking quickly, she pulled her dirk from her belt and threw it at the bunk where it landed flat amongst the tangled sheets. Knowing that was the best she could do for now, she watched helplessly as Darius grabbed the knife and quickly lay back on the mattress. When the door didn’t open, she could only assume someone had entered one of the other two rooms instead of this one. Relieved, she lowered herself down until she was hanging from the bars with her legs dangling free.
From up above, Toker watched the tableau playing out below. Kaiti’s legs hung a good hand’s length above the sill of the porthole she’d come out of, and if she could manage some swing action, she just might be able to generate enough momentum to get most of her body back inside. He shook his head, pursing his lips as he mumbled, “That’s about as likely as my mother rising up from the grave.”
At that moment, a shout rang out from the quarterdeck. The ships had been spotted and it was time for Toker to act. He began sawing through the halyard, the main rope used to haul the sail to the top of the mainmast. When the rope was almost completely severed, he stopped and said a quick prayer to Aevala that the rope would hold long enough for him to finish his task. He pulled himself out onto the yard and made his way to the ropes securing the mainsail. Silently thanking his father for demanding he keep his dirk razor-sharp, he began methodically sawing through one rope after another.
From down below, a chorus of frenetic orders carried up to him on the wind. He glanced down to see the captain running from the forecastle, pointing up at him and shouting to the swarms of sailors spilling out onto the deck. Several men leapt up into the rigging, intent on reaching him before he could finish his sabotage. He redoubled his effort, needing to cut enough rope to free the sail.
After the first few had been cut, the end began whipping this way and that, making greater and greater flapping arcs until he came to the single remaining rope. Several sailors were almost upon him and with one final pull on his knife, the top of the mainsail flew free of the yard. Shoving his knife between his teeth, Toker dropped down and grabbed one of the footropes suspended beneath the yard. He used his momentum to swing himself toward the mast, where he kicked the topmost sailor in the center of his chest. The man had time for one quick gasp before plummeting to his death on the deck below.
Toker then swung backwards once, and on the return swing let loose of the foot rope and flew through the air, barely managing to wrap his arms around the wooden mast. He stomped the next sailor on the head, then grabbed his knife and sliced down and across his assailant’s wide, panicked eyes. The man screamed as he, too, fell, bouncing off stiff ropes and grasping at them in vain as he tried to forestall his inevitable meeting with the wooden deck below.
A third sailor glared up at him, but so far hadn’t climbed to within Toker’s reach.
The captain, whose face had turned a ruddy shade of purple as he shouted curses at the third man, threatened him with all manner of punishments if he didn’t climb up high enough to stop Toker.
For his part, Toker placed his knife to the remaining bit of rope where he’d sliced through the majority of the halyard and severed the remaining strands. The yard and all the remaining sails attached to the mainmast plummeted to the deck below.
CHAPTER 16
On board the Corvid, the three healers, who had awakened Bree a short time earlier to wrap her injured chest and ribs in a supportive, tight bandage, heard the lookout’s call from above.
“Ship off the starboard bow.”
Knowing it would take some time to overtake them, the healers left Bree reaching for her weapons and calmly ascended the ladder to the main deck and then made their way to where L’renz held a spyglass to his eye. He opened his free eye as they approached, then closed it again. He pointed to the northeast. “There. We’re coming up on her faster than I’d hoped. She seems to be slowing, but I can’t quite make out…”
He lowered the glass and looked over his shoulder to where the Malice sailed off their stern. As he expected, she flew the red and white stripped flag that meant they had also seen the other ship. He tilted his head up to see his own flag being raised to signal the Malice. He and Two-toes had already worked out a battle plan. They had attacked any number of sailing vessels over the years and both men were confident the other would carry out their part flawlessly.
When he turned back to the black ship, he was surprised to see that it had slowed even more then he’d previously thought possible. He spoke more to himself than to any of the women. “Are they coming about to meet us head on?”
“No…” J’net’s voice trailed off as she took the spyglass from her husband and focused on the other ship. “L’renz, I think…” She lowered the glass and squinted at the other ship’s sails, then tapped him in the chest with the glass without taking her eyes off the other vessel. “Is there a hole in the mainmast, or is it completely down?”
“What?” A thrill of anticipation ran through him as he once again brought the ship into focus. “It’s down! And it looks like the main royal is luffing, and the topgallant as well!” He turned to his first mate. “Beat to quarters!”
The first mate turned to a boy Becca had missed when she’d first come up on deck. He was about nine or ten, and he stood proudly wearing a snare drum strapped across his chest. The mate gave the order, and the boy composed himself and began the steady beat.
L’renz turned to them with a silly grin plastered on his face. He reminded Becca of Magnus with his wide smile and puffed out chest.
J’net covered her eyes and chuckled. When she looked up at the child-like delight in L’renz’ eyes, she out-and-out laughed at her husband. She turned to Becca and Nashotah to explain. “He’s been wanting a drummer ever since I’ve known him, but it was only recently that one of our nephews actually showed some talent on the snare. L’renz has been like a small child waiting to be able to give that order.”
The ship erupted into activity and Becca, Nashotah and J’net hurried down the ladder to retrieve their weapons. They met Bree charging up to the main deck, bandolier of throwing knives and sword already in place and strapping on the shortsword she wore between her shoulder blades during battle.
She ran up to the quarterdeck and stood next to L’renz. Liris, Magnus, Idari and Leez joined her soon after. She looked to where L’renz pointed at the other ship.
“Your man must have sabotaged her! She’s ours, Duchess!” He punched Bree’s arm enthusiastically.
Bree glared at him while the four guards exchanged dubious glances. Normally, the duchess would have pulled the man up onto his toes, choked him with his own collar and then thrown him to the ground, possibly with a knife through his ribs for taking such liberties.
Liris took an unsure step forward, conveying her readiness to uphold Bree’s honor if necessary. When Bree waived her off, Liris nonetheless growled quietly.
L’renz heard the threat and chuckled, raising the ruff on the guard’s back even more.
Liris was just about to wrap him on the side of the head when Legan appeared. Easy, Apprentice. The Duchess can take care of herself. Besides, out here on the open waters, he is at least her equal, and with regards to a sea battle, her superior. Despite the wind, his coarse, glossy fur remained still on his body. Only the brown tufts on the front edge of his rounded ears rippled slightly as he looked from L’renz to Bree, and then back up at Liris again.
Bree overheard the remark and glanced over her shoulder and down at the oversized weasel, who lifted his gaze and cocked his head slightly, waiting to hear her retort. She noticed Liris bristling at his side and smiled appreciatively at her, nodding her agreement with Legan’s assessment. Liris’ excellent leadership abilities and devotion to duty hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Bree made a note to herself to tell her that when they’d gotten out of this mess. She looked into Liris’ bright, intelligent eyes a little longer than necessary and decided there might be some other things they needed to discuss as well.
The moment the duchess smiled at her, Liris completely forgot L’renz playful insult. Despite Two-Toes’ warning about curbing her feelings for her commander, her heart beat a little faster, sending an unwanted, but pleasurable blush into her cheeks. That was the first time Bree had ever held her gaze and smiled. She drew in a breath and smiled back before once again stepping back to join the other guards.
I can’t stay, apprentice. I…we all…get sick upon the waves. Only the Guides who live in the sea, those who Guide Anacafrian sailors, and those of the sky are unaffected.
J’net returned to the bridge and Liris did a doubletake at the massive Raven sitting comfortably on a specially padded shoulder. Easily the size of a harpy eagle, with talons as large as bear claws and legs the size of a human wrist, the jet-black bird gazed regally around the quarterdeck.
Legan dipped his head once. Regnus, I didn’t realize you were J’net’s Guide. Welcome, and I’ll leave my apprentice, Liris, in your capable claws before my lunch makes an embarrassing, highly undignified reappearance. He didn’t waste any time fading from sight.
Regnus regarded Liris with round, black eyes that nearly disappeared in the obsidian cap of feathers covering his elongated head.
Bree noticed Liris staring at something behind her and turned.
Regnus shifted his gaze to the duchess, then leapt from J’net’s shoulder, spreading his nearly six-foot wingspan to fly over the waves towards the black ship.
Startled as the huge wingtip barely missed clipping her nose, Bree jumped back, bumping into L’renz who stumbled backwards and nearly fell onto the deck.
Magnus caught him under the arms and righted him while Liris grabbed Bree’s flailing arm to steady her.
Nashotah came up behind J’net, sardonically observing the tableau. “I see you’ve met Regnus. Impressive, isn’t he?”
Becca, who’d followed on Nashotah’s heels and had witnessed Regnus’ departure, formed a little “O” with her mouth as she had a sudden flash of insight. She stepped forward and said to J’net, “He’s the reason you survived the plunge from Kotólo’s eyes. I couldn’t work out how that could have happened. You should have been crushed by the sheer weight of your fall onto the water below, but he somehow slowed your descent.”
J’net simply lifted her brows and watched proudly as her Guide’s massive wings propelled him toward the other ship.
Regaining his balance, L’renz nodded his thanks to Magnus and then jumped up onto the railing between the quarter and main decks. He peered through the spyglass once more and then realized they were close enough to see the black ship without it. “I don’t know how he’s done it, but the topsail and the main course have come down as well!” He reached out to grab a taut standing line to steady himself as J’net jumped up beside him and grabbed one of her own.
The wind shifted, and she had to yell over the sound of the temporary luffing of their mainsails as sailors jumped to reset the trim. “I see him! He’s jumped to the foremast and is climbing that now. He’s fighting with the riggers who are trying to stop him and Regnus is flying protection for him as well!”
L’renz shouted to his helmsman. “Take her alongside the midships!” He grinned fiercely down at Bree. “There’s too much chaos aboard her. Aevala favors the bold and I’m gambling the cannons will go unmanned if we can board her quick enough!”
He turned to the signalman, an able-bodied lad in his late teens who had his gaze keenly fixed on his captain. “Run up the attack and board pennant!”
To the drummer, he shouted, “Sound assembly at the rails, Janson!” The tempo of the snare changed to a stuttered but steady beat.
L’renz yelled to his first mate, “Ready the grapplers!”
Unable or unwilling to contain himself at the thought of close-quarter fighting, Magnus leapt over the railing and landed perfectly balanced on the main deck.
Too late, Liris angrily shouted after him. “Magnus! You cod-brained skut! Get your arse back here and attend!”
Magnus glanced over his shoulder, then gritted his teeth and reluctantly turned to comply.
Bree held up her hand. “Let him be. I’m heading down there myself, though with my body aching the way it is, I think I’ll take the stairs instead of sailing over the railing.” With one hand covering her sore ribs, she descended to the main deck and pulled her sword, swinging it this way and that, slowly at first and gradually adding speed as her muscles warmed.
Liris and the rest of the guards followed and took up positions around their lord commander.
When Magnus joined them, he leaned in close to Liris, “Sorry about that. I started picturing how handsome I’d look as a swashbuckling pirate, and well…” He shrugged and flashed her a broad grin.
Liris took his arm and guided him away from the rest of her people. “Look, Magnus, we’ve both fought battles at sea before. We may get separated in the chaos, and if we do, I’ll need you to take charge. Don’t get caught up in the excitement of the attack. Remember our mission.”
Magnus had the grace to look chagrined and put his hand on Liris’ shoulder. “I know I don’t need to say it, but I swear by Aevala’s blessing, I will. I’ll protect her with my life. You have my word.” He placed his hand over his heart and waited for her to nod, which, after a few moments, she did.
Up on the quarterdeck, Becca fingered the hilt of her red-tipped sanguine sword and along with Nashotah waited behind L’renz and J’net.
With his typical exuberance, L’renz placed a hand behind his wife’s neck and drew her to him, kissing her with such passion that on a whim, Becca pulled Nashotah close and kissed her as well.
The Shona healer responded immediately, and although the moment was brief, a seeming lifetime of communication passed between them. When they separated, Nashotah gave her a brilliant smile before stepping back and looking deep into her eyes. Becca’s need for reassurance evaporated when she saw the tender love coming from her beautiful Shona chieftain.
Stepping back to give herself room, Nashotah lifted her staff and began executing a series of deadly moves meant to both limber her muscles and ready herself for battle. They were moves she’d learned as a child, ones that had become so ingrained that she was able to close her eyes and without thinking about the physical, prepare herself mentally for whatever was to come.
When L’renz released her, J’net smiled up at him. His eyes sparkled as he turned his attention elsewhere, and she pulled each of her knives from her bandolier and checked their edges. There really hadn’t been any doubt as to their sharpness but J’net used the ritual to ready herself for the assault.
Down on the main deck, the first mate and two other sailors were handing out swords from a locker under the quarterdeck. Becca was both surprised and impressed when the mate brought out a broadsword, turned and made sure he had J’net’s attention. He lofted the heavy weapon over the railing and up into her hands.
L’renz already wore his cut-and-thrust sword, which was good for hacking, slashing and stabbing. He glanced back at the Malice. Their answering pennant had been raised, and the ship was tacking on a course that would take her to the opposite side of their quarry. It wasn’t often they had the luxury of attacking a ship in complete disarray and he hoped he was right about their cannons. He ran across the top of the railing between the quarterdeck and main, arms held straight out and swinging up and down for balance. When he reached the starboard gunnel, he grabbed several taught ropes and made his way along the polished wood until he stood looking down on his people.
J’net made her way down to the main deck with a little more aplomb, taking the stairs as though she were out for a stroll, albeit a stroll while fully kitted for battle. She moved toward the front of the sailors gathered around L’renz, but far enough behind the grapplers that she wouldn’t be hit as they swung the grappling hooks around their heads and sent them sailing across to the enemy ship.
L’renz pointed to his wife. “J’net, you’ll take your people down and make sure the gun crews have something else to think about besides firing their cannons. Two-Toes will have assigned Tig to do the same from the Malice. While the rest of my boarders are securing the main deck, head below to take out the guns.”
He pointed down to Bree, “Duchess, you and your people’s mission will be to find your daughter and get her back to the Corvid. If for whatever reason we have to make a quick retreat, at least we’ll have what we came for.”
Confused, Liris and Magnus both glanced over at Bree who shook her head slightly. Apparently, for whatever reason, she hadn’t told L’renz and J’net about the prince. Liris thought that perhaps it was because they had only just met the pirates, and they were pirates after all. Darius was the crown prince. So far, Anacafria had the heir but not the spare. Taking him had been a brilliant tactical move on Desdamea’s part. An excellent tactician herself, Bree had recognized the kidnapping for what it was, and even though she’d come for her daughter, she’d also known that saving Darius meant saving Anacafria as well.
