Dragonfang (34 page)

T
he dragon attack came near Centravian, just off the coast. In all the history of naval warfare, there had never been such a strange attack on a ship, and this was in spite of some very strange battles. Jelindel had been asleep at the time, and Hargrellien came looking for her, shouting that a dragon was attacking the ship.

Jelindel arrived on deck in time to see an enormous pair of wings holding up a small shed come sweeping over the
Dragonfang
. Something small, dark and trailing smoke dropped, hit the foremast and erupted into a blast of flame. Most of the burning oil and fragments of jar fell into the sea, but it was clear what the flying thing was trying to do.

‘A dragon, crapping fire turds!’ Captain Porterby exclaimed.

Jelindel noted that the steersman was not making any effort to evade the attacks. This was because he had abandoned the wheel on the quarterdeck, and vanished down a hatchway. On the other hand, the flying shed was at least ten times faster than
the
Dragonfang
, so evasion was not much of an option. Daretor appeared with the steersman, holding a knife point against the man’s back.

‘Is this man meant to be doing anything important?’ asked Daretor.

‘Get him back to his post on the quarterdeck,’ said the captain. ‘We will steer for the shallows, run the ship aground, then wade to shore and run.’

‘Straight into the arms of the Preceptor’s army,’ said Augerin, pointing, ‘See on the beach.’

‘Well better that than being burned or drowned out here,’ said the captain. ‘What is that thing?’

‘Something of Fa’red’s making, I think,’ Jelindel said. ‘It’s a sort of ship of the air, and rather than a catapult to throw firepots, it just drops them as it flies over the target,’ she concluded.

‘If it is a ship, it can be fought,’ said Daretor, ‘and we have a catapult. Captain, turn out the crewmen who wind the catapult and prime the firepots. I say we fight.’

‘
You
say we fight?’ demanded Porterby. ‘
I’m
the captain.’

‘Would you like a mutiny?’ retorted Daretor. ‘I’m willing to provide one. All those who want to jump ship in the two longboats and make for the shore, go! Your fate will be the same as if we surrendered the ship.’

It did not take Captain Porterby long to realise that he had a problem. He had presided over quite a few surrenders, and had escaped more attacks than any other captain afloat. But here he was being offered a chance to lead his men in surrender while others made an attempt to escape. Escape was preferable to surrender, nobody could argue with that.

The captain decided to go for a diplomatic solution.

‘Yours is not the only way to flee,’ he declared, grandly. ‘All
right then, we fight, but I want six men standing by each longboat, dousing the timbers to keep them wet and standing ready to launch them if the ship is hit and set afire.

‘Catapult crewmen, place yourself under Daretor’s command. Steersman, do the same. Go ahead, young man, show us what you can do.’

The airliner was flying at the
Dragonfang
at right angles when it made its attacks from a shallow dive. It was trying to start a fire on the vessel’s deck and rigging. A hit to the hull could easily be extinguished before it burned through the thick wood. As the airliner approached again, it was flying slowly, trying to get a good, steady aim. Daretor aimed the catapult directly at the front window as the thing approached, then realised that he had no idea of its true size. He could not aim accurately because he could not gauge distance. Deciding that any shot was better than no shot, he fired.

The firepot left a thin trail of smoke as it arced through the air, making it visible to whoever was flying the thing. The same individual also panicked, banking so steeply across the bow that the starboard wingtip splashed the waves briefly. No firepot was dropped, either. The
Dragonfang’s
crew cheered heartily. The airliner now circled the ship several times, keeping a distance. It seemed that the steersman was reluctant to take any damage.

‘It’s as I thought,’ Daretor explained to Jelindel. She was stationed near him with a bucket and wet beating cloth. ‘A wolf can have a leg injured in a fight and still limp away on the other three, but hurt either one of an eagle’s wings and it can’t fly.’

‘An eagle is more frail than a wolf, too,’ agreed Jelindel. ‘Should I tell some of the sailors to get crossbows?’

‘No, no, as soon as that thing hits us, I want everyone ready with buckets and beaters. Sooner or later it will strike us, and I want us to survive those firepots.’

At last the airliner broke off its circling and came at the
Dragonfang
in a long, shallow dive. This time it came in diagonally, so that the ratlines of the mainmast were in the line of fire of the catapult. It dropped its firepot too late to hit the decks, but by sheer chance the pot of oil, pitch and sulphur hit the foremast and burst into a long tongue of flame. Most of it went into the sea, but splashes of the mixture set the spars, sails and even the top of the foremast alight. The sailors seemed almost relieved to have a threat that they could actually fight. They swarmed up the foremast’s ratlines and into the rigging with their buckets and beaters, ready to fight the flames.

Daretor watched as the airliner circled, assessing what it had done. Were I the steersman in that thing, I would do that again, but drop the pot earlier, thought Daretor. The airliner broke off and came in again at the same trajectory.

‘Quickly, help me turn the catapult!’ he shouted as the winged shape loomed larger and larger on the starboard side.

‘But it’s coming in from starboard,’ said the ratchet winder, who began to turn the weapon anyway.

‘I know that,’ replied Daretor, ‘but there are no ratlines in the way if we shoot at it after it has passed over us.’

The next firepot was dropped high and early. Almost as soon as he caught sight of its trail through the air, Daretor knew that they had the range right this time. He forced himself to ignore the firepot and kept his eye on the airliner. It had begun to flap slowly, but was still flying in a straight line. It passed over the
Dragonfang
just as the firepot smashed on the starboard foredeck railing, smearing flames across the foredeck’s planking.

Daretor fired. The firepot soared up, then struck the airliner squarely in the large, down-covered backside, just below the tail feathers. Even though it was a soft target, it was sufficiently firm to burst the firepot.

There was a thunderclap-like ‘BUCKAW!’ The airliner banked heavily into a shallow dive, trailing black smoke and flapping its enormous wings. Again the crew of the
Dragonfang
cheered, even though their own vessel was on fire, too. With Captain Porterby and Jelindel shouting at them in rare agreement, the sailors descended from the rigging and began beating at the flames, smothering them with soaked sails and blankets. Daretor watched as the airliner lowered its legs, ran splashing through the shallows, then folded its legs, immersing its burning behind in the water.

Daretor realised that Captain Porterby was by his side as he stared at the distant shape near the shore.

‘Well done young Daretor,’ exclaimed the captain, glorying in one of his rare experiences of being on the winning side. ‘We showed that overgrown seagull.’

‘My one worry is that it will be back in the air as soon as the fire is out. How is the fire on our foredeck?’

‘Above deck, not too bad, but some of the burning mixture has leaked below and the fires are proving harder to fight. Nearly the entire ship’s complement can barely stop it spreading. It will take at least half an hour to bring it under control.’

Daretor’s eyes didn’t leave the shore where the winged monster was bathing its tail end. ‘In other words, another hit like that will sink the ship,’ he concluded.

‘You’re right, there, lad, but the thing’s firepots are too small to swamp the whole ship with flames. We should have plenty of time to get into the boats.’

‘There!’ cried Daretor, pointing. ‘It’s folding its wings, they’re not going to put it back into the air.’

As Daretor said later, they had really dodged an arrow that time. Whoever had been flying the airliner was obviously
reluctant to use it as a weapon, and very frightened about suffering any damage.

‘We were beaten, but we hurt it just enough to break the steersman’s nerve. A veteran warrior would have taken the damage, come around again, and dropped another pot on us before putting its arse in the water.’

‘One day they will put those things into the air with warriors at the helm,’ predicted Jelindel. ‘It will be the end of the warship when that happens.’

‘But that day is not today,’ added Daretor. ‘Today we frightened it off and survived.’

The damage to the
Dragonfang
did not seem extensive at first. Nevertheless, the crew took days to complete the repairs. A lot of rope needed replacing or cutting and splicing. Meanwhile, so much of the sail had been damaged that they were compelled to patch what had survived, rather than repair it. Wood that had been badly charred was cut away and replaced from the carpenter’s store.

All the while they sailed on, flying as much canvas as was safe. To Daretor’s relief, the weather deteriorated three days after the attack.

Everything on deck was fastened down before the looming waves could wash it away.

‘I cannot believe that Daretor is pleased about weather like this,’ shouted Hargrellien to Jelindel. They were clinging to the salt-hardened rigging, unfurling the storm sails. It was almost impossible to hear above the rain and howling wind.

‘The airliner probably dislikes these conditions even worse than we do,’ Jelindel called out above the squalling wind. ‘I doubt that it’s as solidly built as a ship.’

‘Well, I dislike this weather, too.’ The shrieking rain snatched at Hargrellien’s words.

‘But you’re not a threat to the ship – give that line here, I’ll tie it down.’

‘So he’s forgiven you for banishing him to that paraworld?’

Jelindel clung tightly to a spar and quickly brushed her spume-matted hair from her eyes. She pulled a knot tight.

‘More or less. Having his body swapped with Zimak’s is dwelling a lot more heavily on his mind right now.’

Hargrellien said something, but the canvas was snapping taut then emptying with ominous claps. She bellowed, ‘Whatever the body, he’s a fantastic warrior, and quite a leader, too. He is one of those people you feel confident about following, you know?’

Jelindel scrunched her face against the hurricane-force wind. ‘Hargrellien, do you mean that?’

‘Aye, I do. He put the captain in his place without humiliating him, got the crew on side, then fought off a completely new type of weapon, inventing his strategy as he went.
I
was all ready to surrender.’

The
Dragonfang
seemed to stay motionless for one second, then tacked sideways until finally the stern swayed out and a juddering ran the length of the vessel. Jelindel and Hargrellien clung for their lives until the ship righted itself. Still the wind wailed through the rigging, making the ratlines thrum.

‘I thought I felt guilty about my betrayal, but I now wonder if I was not fooling myself. I mean, in a way I really did miss Daretor. I suppose it might be the reason why I brought him back, but now I’m not sure how to tell him. Hargrellien, you’ve seen your sisters courting a lot of boys.’

‘Aye. But can’t this wait?’

‘What would one of them say?’ Jelindel shouted to make herself heard.

‘About what?’

‘About showing she wanted to be more than friendly with a boy.’

‘Jelindel!’ Hargrellin yelled, exasperated. ‘We’re halfway up the dummart rigging of the foremast, in a storm, rain pelting down on us. We’re soaked, freezing, and our hands are so blistered, numb and bleeding that we can hardly hold on to the ropes, yet you want advice on how to seduce Daretor?’

‘Well, it’s an embarrassing subject and this is the first moment we’ve been alone.’

Another loud snap of the sails drowned her words. She crawled closer to Hargrellien and began again. ‘We went on a perilous quest together. Zimak wanted to scamper off to the nearest haystack so he could give me a free tutorial on sexual pleasures, but Daretor was always courteous. He never made a lewd suggestion, and I came to think of him as a sort of strict and protective big brother.

‘Then he was gone, and I started to think of him as
more
than a brother. Now he’s back, and I have to do something about my feelings this time.’

‘Jelindel, I’m going to be blunt about this, mainly because I’m soaked, freezing, and really anxious to climb down to the deck, get out of the storm, and have my ration of rum. Just say what you’d say to any boyfriend.’

‘I’ve never had a boyfriend, Hargrellien.’

‘I – you haven’t? Even
I’ve
had a boyfriend. Well, two or three. Four, actually – no, five if you count Dorric, but he was –‘

‘I get the idea,’ snapped Jelindel. ‘So what do I say?’

‘Yes.’

‘Just yes?’

‘That’s it.’

‘
Yes
generally requires a question first.’