Pirate's Honor, page 10
With a wordless cry, Celeste lashed out with her most destructive spell. A spear of flame lanced out to strike the cecaelia. It shrieked and writhed as the heat seared its flesh, dropping its spear to bat at the smoldering wounds. Torius took the opportunity to drive his cutlass up into its chest.
Still the thing clutched him, tentacles wrapping his arm and snaking around his neck. Celeste darted forward, but before she could reach him, an arrow transfixed the cecaelia's head, and it fell. She looked up to the quarterdeck, where Thillion was already nocking another arrow. Flashing a smile, she turned to Torius, who was peeling away the tentacles and struggling to his feet, trying not to slip in the pool of blood, slime, and black ink that spread across the deck.
"Are you all right?" she asked, peering at the red wheals on his neck.
"Fine!" he insisted. "Celeste, you shouldn't—"
"Shouldn't what? Save your life?" A woman screamed and they turned to see a pirate struggling on the end of a spear. Celeste sent another searing line of flame at the cecaelia, which screeched in agony and retreated. "I am not so frail as you imagine, Captain Vin!"
"Celeste, I—"
Without waiting to hear his protest, she cast another spell and winked into invisibility. She had seen that the pirates outnumbered the cecaelias, but the longer reach of the invaders' spears and their entangling tentacles were wreaking havoc. Though Grogul was doing well, hacking away tentacles with his axe and deflecting spear thrusts, and Thillion rained arrows down on their foes, several of the crew had already gone down—tripped and spitted when they tried to get close enough to strike with their shorter cutlasses. Those remaining hung back, looking unsure of how to attack these creatures without suffering the same fate.
Determined to help turn the tide, Celeste slithered behind one of the tentacled horrors and struck, plunging her fangs deep into its neck and flexing her body to inject the maximum amount of venom before letting go. The cecaelia cried out in pain and whirled its spear around as she became visible, but she was well inside the arc of the long weapon. Cold, slimy tentacles grasped her lower body, but her lack of legs foiled its attempt to trip her or bear her down, and her scaly hide was tough enough to resist any harm from the powerful suckers. It lashed out with a fist, but the blow did little real damage, and she simply plunged her fangs into its arm. A pirate lunged from behind to drive a cutlass into its back.
As the cecaelia shuddered and fell, Celeste shook its clinging tentacles off with a sweep of her powerful tail. The pirate gave her a gleeful nod and leapt to his next attack.
"Stargazers!" she cried, sending a flight of crackling magical darts to strike yet another foe. "Fight for your ship! Fight for your captain!"
Hissing, she rose on her coils and swayed her body sinuously. Her dark scales shimmered until they glowed with a silvery radiance. A few cecaelias stopped to stare, mesmerized by the display. The distraction gave a fleeting advantage to the Stargazers, and they surged forth to exploit it. One opponent was dealt a killing blow by Grogul, and the others were set upon by pirates, startling them out of their trances.
A cecaelia rushed at Celeste as her glow faded. She sent another flight of missiles at it, but it kept coming, thrusting its broad-bladed spear. Torius leapt forward to slash at the cecaelia's arm, shouting, "For Stargazer!" It whirled on him, but he deflected a spear thrust and danced out of reach of its tentacles. Celeste lashed forward to bury her fangs in the slimy creature's hide, and the crew echoed Torius's call and fought with renewed vigor.
"Cut 'em down!" Grogul bellowed. The half-orc swung his axe with deadly accuracy, separating the human and octopus halves of his opponent, splattering gore and black ink across the deck.
As Celeste slithered back from her reeling opponent to prepare another spell, Snick and her ballista crews boiled up from the main hatch armed with crossbows.
"Sorry we're late!" the gnome called out as they fired a devastating volley of bolts. Two more cecaelias fell writhing to the deck.
A warbling cry rang out from the largest cecaelia, a massive creature with tattoos adorning not only its human torso, but also its tentacles. A half-dozen bolts and arrows protruded from its flesh and several tentacles had been shortened by sword strokes, but it fought on. At its call, the remaining invaders retreated to the rail and over the side, plunging into the sea, but the large one paused at the railing.
Celeste hissed and cast a spell even as the creature hurled its spear.
Her spell struck, and the cecaelia screamed and plunged overboard to quench its seared flesh, but her cry of triumph ended in a gasp of pain as its spear pierced her scales.
"Celeste!" Torius cried, rushing to her side.
She stared down at the spear's shaft protruding from her body and hissed in alarm. She tried to pull the weapon free with her magic, but its barbed head was lodged in her flesh. Pain flared, and she felt suddenly lightheaded. She writhed reflexively, but every movement sent waves of agony rippling through her body.
"Celeste!" Torius was at her side, his cutlass clattering forgotten to the deck. "Oh, gods! Snick, bring your healer's kit! Just lie still, Celeste. Don't move."
"As I said, I am not as fragile as you imagine," she reminded him between gritted teeth, easing herself down to the deck to keep the spear still. "The wound isn't in a vital spot, but I can't free the blade. You'll have to cut it out."
"Captain!" Thillion called from the quarterdeck. "The third galley is turning to follow us!"
"Grogul, get a new fore-topsail rigged! Windy, take us downwind until the new sail is set and then head north again!" Torius glanced toward the quarterdeck, then back at Celeste. "Gozreh's guts, where's that blasted gnome?"
Celeste had never been injured like this before. The determination and bloodlust she had felt during the battle seeped away like her blood that now stained the deck. She wanted nothing more than to have Torius ease her pain, but the rest of the crew raced about the deck, attending to their duties despite their wounds. She could do no less, and neither could her captain.
"Torius!" Celeste snapped, lowering her voice. "I am not going to die! You must do your job, or you put your entire ship in peril. Your crew needs to see you on the quarterdeck! Go!"
"I can't leave you!" he insisted.
"You've got to!" She nudged him with a flick of her magic, then retrieved his fallen sword and floated it into his hand. "If your crew doesn't see you in command, they'll lose confidence in you. If we have to fight again, you'll need that confidence. Go, or I swear by the stars, I'll bite you!"
Before he could answer, Snick arrived with a big leather bag. She put the bag down and cringed at the sight of the spear lodged in Celeste's body. "Yeeouch! That's gotta smart!"
"It's not as bad as it looks," Celeste said, though she was hard pressed to keep her voice steady. "I'll be fine, Torius! Go!"
"Take care of her, Snick." Torius stood and wiped his cutlass on his shirt before snapping it back into its scabbard. "Then see to the other injured." He turned away, shouting orders as he mounted the steps to the quarterdeck.
"So, is it really not that bad, or were you lying so he wouldn't worry about you?" Snick asked, opening her bag. "Because it looks plenty bad to me."
"I don't think it struck anything vital, though it hurts like the devil." The spear's head—a foot-long blade with two long barbs where it met the shaft—was lodged deep in her lower body, far below her vital organs and off-center enough to miss her spine. She should have been heartened, but she just felt sick, and could barely keep her voice from shaking. "There's nothing down there but muscle. If you cut the barbs free, you should be able to pull it out."
"Right." Snick wasn't a healer, but she was good with her hands and had learned quite a bit about patching up wounded pirates over the years. She pulled a slim knife from the bag and stropped it on a steel to hone the edge. "Gonna smart some, but try to hold still." She grinned at Celeste. "And don't bite me."
"Just do it."
Snick held the split scales apart and made two deft cuts, slicing through the underlying flesh to free the barbs. Celeste hissed as pain shot through her again. She managed not to move, though her tail shuddered as the gnome drew the razor-edged steel from her body. The spear clanked to the deck, and Snick applied a thick pad to the wound to staunch the bleeding.
"Nice blade," the gnome commented, nudging the gleaming weapon with a toe. "It'll sell for quite a few scarabs. We've got a few potions if you want one."
"Save them for those whose lives are in danger." Celeste rose up on her coils; it was still painful, but she could move. "Just tie a bandage around me for now."
Celeste held the pad in place with her magic while Snick wrapped a roll of clean cloth several times around her body, tying a sailor's knot to hold it in place.
"Better go see if anybody's dyin'. I'll put some unguent on that later to keep it from going septic." The gnome put her tools away and hefted the bag, hurrying to where some sailors were helping their injured mates.
Celeste flexed her coils and winced at the pain. Around her, the mid-deck looked like a slaughterhouse, drenched in the blood of humans and cecaelias, and the black ink that the creatures secreted. Sailors were hefting cecaelia bodies overboard and arranging the dead Stargazers in a neat row. Celeste counted seven bodies, and twice that many wounded. Other sailors worked frantically to repair the damage from the catapult shot, climbing through the rigging like monkeys, cutting and splicing and hauling up the new spar, spurred on by Grogul's harsh commands. Others had pulled a spare sail from the forecastle hatch and were rigging blocks to haul it aloft.
Grogul stopped and looked her over.
"First time I seen you in a real scrap, Miss Celeste. You fight pretty good." He was spattered with gore and bore a few shallow cuts but was otherwise uninjured. The axe at his belt was caked with slime and blood. He pointed to her bandage. "Bad?"
"Not really," she said, giving him an appreciative nod. "And thank you. I don't think Torius liked it when I joined the fight, but I could not just sit by and watch."
"You saved a lot of lives, Miss Celeste, the captain's among 'em. He might not thank you for it, but I will. That magic of yours, and that trick you did with your scales glowin' like that, rallied the men and scared the ink right out of those things." He gave her a sailor's salute and a grin. "I better get these swabs workin' or we'll be in a real pickle."
∗ ∗ ∗
Torius turned at the rustle of scales on wood to see Celeste slithering up the steps to the quarterdeck, her lower body swathed in a bandage. He clenched his fists behind his back at the thought of her injury, but he knew she'd been right to join the fight. She'd rallied his crew when he had failed, and had even saved his life. Then she'd been right again when she told him to attend to his duties and let Snick see to her injury. He was still trying to figure out why that made him angry.
"How are you?" he asked, nodding at the bandage. The pad was stained red, but the bleeding had been staunched. She moved normally, albeit hesitantly.
"I'm fine, Captain," she assured him. "I believe your bosun would call such an injury ‘just a poke with a stick.' I will heal in time."
She slithered slowly to the taffrail where he and Thillion were scowling at the pursuing war galley. At this point, there wasn't much more they could do other than scowl. The warship was a good two miles behind. The other two lay adrift many more miles back.
"Well, time is something we might not have much of." He gestured to the pursuing ship.
"But we've gained some distance, and we showed them that we're not defenseless," Thillion said, sounding far more upbeat as he turned toward the navigator. "If Miss Celeste could cast her flame spell at them, it might dissuade our pursuers—or, even better, set their sails afire."
Celeste shook her head. "Unfortunately, the spell's range is limited, perhaps from here to our own forward mast. And I only have one remaining."
"Magic's not going to help us now. We've got to outrun them. Unless," Torius cocked an eyebrow at Celeste, "you can prophesy what course to steer for some higher seas."
Pain shot through Celeste's eyes. Torius didn't think it was from her wound, but his anger smothered any guilt he might have felt about his unwarranted sarcasm.
Turning from him, she squinted into the sky before replying. "I would be happy to read the stars for you, once the sun sets. Until then, I think I should lie down and rest."
"If we're still alive when the sun sets, I promise to hang on your every word." Torius regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He smiled at her, trying to remove some of the sting, but she didn't look at him. "Go get some rest, Celeste. If it comes down to a fight, we will need you."
Still without looking at him, she said, "Very well, Captain. I'll be in the cabin," then slithered away.
Torius watched her until her tail vanished down the steps. Thankfully, Thillion remained silent. He started to turn away, but a shrill voice brought him back.
"Gotta admit, my plan worked!" Snick was all smiles as she strutted up the steps to the quarterdeck.
"Aye, it worked," Grogul admitted. "It was crazy, but it worked."
"It worked because it was crazy!" The gnome stopped in front of Torius and gave an exaggerated salute. "All cleaned up, sir!"
"The new foretop's rigged, sir," Grogul added, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "And I appointed Fenric as my new bosun's mate. Joss didn't make it."
"I know." Torius gritted his teeth as he looked along the deck where pirates were scrubbing the wooden planks and dousing them with seawater. The water sluicing through the scuppers turned the ship's wake red. "What's the total butcher's bill, Snick?"
"Seven dead, twelve wounded. Two were bad, and I gave 'em our last two potions. The others should be able to fight in a couple of days. Just some stitches and willow bark tea to keep fever down."
"Seven? Gozreh's guts ..." He shook his head.
"Could've been a lot worse, sir," Snick reminded him. "Celeste really turned the tide! She's one bad ...uh ...naga, Captain!"
"That she is," he agreed, "but we can't count on her to save the day again." He nodded to the war galley. "We've got to outrun that ship, but I'm out of tricks. So if anyone can think of something to speed us up or slow them down, now's the time to speak up."
"Other than praying for bad weather, I got nothin', sir," Grogul said with a shrug. "We're flyin' every scrap of canvas she'll bear, and I shifted all the weight possible to her windward side."
"I could dismantle a couple of my babies and bring 'em up here to shoot backward," Snick offered. "Load 'em with pitch-soaked bolts and try to set their sails on fire when they get close."
"Good thought. Do that, Snick."
"We could lighten ship," Thillion suggested. "Throw everything we don't need over the side. It might give us half a knot."
"That's something. Start with half our water and oldest provisions. Saving a year-old barrel of salt pork won't matter much in the long run, and might just save our lives. Bury our dead at sea. Wrap them in sail cloth and weigh them down with ballast stones; I don't want our pursuers fishing their bodies out of the water." A thought came to him. "And break out that case of wine that Vreva gave me and distribute it to the wounded. I don't think I want it anymore."
"You really think she sold us out?" Grogul asked.
"Someone did, and I intend to find out who. But first, we've got to survive until dark." He squinted at the sky. The high horsetails had thickened and wheeled to the east. "Three hours to sundown, and another three until the moon sets. We've got to keep them off us for six hours."
"Six hours ..." Grogul pulled the axe from his belt and inspected the gore-spattered blade. He peeled a gobbet of dried flesh from it and flicked it over the side.
Neither Thillion nor Snick said anything. They all knew that their chances of keeping ahead of the warship for another six hours were slim.
"Just keep praying for bad weather," Torius added, glaring at the war galley.
paizo.com #2495541, Ronald Hartman
Chapter Eight
Pirate's Luck
You gotta be the luckiest son of a scallywag ever to sail the Inner Sea, Captain!" Snick laughed as she fought to dismantle the ballista she had just labored two hours to bring up from belowdecks and assemble at the taffrail. "Gozreh must really have plans for you down the line."
"Pirate's luck!" Torius agreed with a grin. He gripped a stay and laughed into the brisk wind that had piped up as the sun descended toward the horizon. Higher winds and seas had finally forced the war galley to reef its sails and then drop them altogether. The narrow-hulled ship couldn't handle such seas on the beam, and had finally turned its bow into the weather to ride it out under sweeps only. The galley now lay more than three miles back. The cloud cover had thickened as well, promising a dark night. He clapped Thillion on the shoulder. "Our bloodhound appears to have lost his taste for the hunt. Remind me to donate to Gozreh's temple when we get back to Katapesh."
"I'll be happy to match your donation, Captain," the elf said.
"Good!" Torius released his grip on the stay and leaned over the rail to shout down to the mid-deck. "Grogul! Take her as far upwind as she'll bear. Rig for night and reef for weather! We'll tack and beat to the southeast as soon as it's dark!"
"Aye, sir!" The bosun bellowed to the deck watch and pirates scrambled up the rigging, striking the big square-rigged sails and replacing the rest with the black canvas that rendered them virtually invisible at night.
Torius turned back to Thillion. "With this overcast, we'll sail right past them and they won't even see us."
"Aye, sir." There was a troubled note to the elf's demeanor.
"Cheer up man! We've jumped the gallows on this one!"
"No doubt, sir, but I was wondering what we do now?" He gestured to the distant Osirian galley. "Why did they pursue us so far from the coast, putting themselves at such risk? Either they wanted the Star of Thumen very badly, or someone wants to destroy you ...someone powerful enough to have influence with the Osirian Navy. Even if we get away now, we'll be a hunted ship in these waters, and it's a difficult patch of sea to avoid."
