The Assassin's Edge (Einarinn 5) (11 page)

“So is Suthyfer just the name of this island or the whole group?” Parrail asked more for the sake of distraction than wanting an answer.

Naldeth obliged regardless. “I think it’s the whole group. I don’t think anyone’s actually named the individual islands. I’m not sure anyone’s ever stopped here to do a proper survey.” With the fast growing bulk of the largest isle now dead ahead, his hazel eyes were bright with curiosity. “Whoever does should name at least one rock for himself, don’t you say? That would be something.”

“You’re interested in doing it?” queried Parrail.

Naldeth was visibly taken aback. “No, I’m bound for Kellarin.”

Parrail hesitated. “You didn’t seem overly taken with the colony when we were last there.”

“I was glad to see the back of the place.” A scowl threatened Naldeth’s cheery countenance. “I’d never seen people killed before. I mean, people die, don’t they? Poldrion rolls the runes but when it’s people you know…” He fell silent for a moment, face vulnerable. ”I’m sorry. You lost friends, I know.”

“I want to help Kellarin for their sake.” Parrail’s unguarded reply wasn’t a rebuke but Naldeth’s swift response was defensive.

“I’d done as much as I could, hadn’t I? I thought I’d best take what I’d learned back to Hadrumal. The Archmage and the other wizards left long before me.”

But Parrail’s soft brown eyes were looking inward on remembered sorrow. Awkwardness hung between the two young men as sailors’ shouts of encouragement and warning sounded the length of the ship. The hills loomed closer. Manoeuvres with ropes and rigging were punctuated by bellows of command from the rear deck and the snap of obedient canvas. The strait between the central island and its slighter neighbour threaded a silver ribbon between the green shores. White birds darted towards the
Tang
and wheeled above its wake, cries of alarm and curiosity loud.

“When did you go back to Vanam?” Naldeth’s question held the faintest hint of accusation.

Parrail dragged his wits back to the present. “For-Autumn last year, not long after you sailed. We reached Zyoutessela for Equinox and I was back in Vanam by the middle of For-Winter. I swore I’d never set foot on a ship again.” He shuddered before his expression brightened. “But Mentor Tonin persuaded me. I take it you’re on your way to consult with Demoiselle Guinalle as well? I heard Usara went looking for aetheric lore with that woman with the Forest blood, Livak? Did he truly bring one of the Mountain Artificers to Hadrumal?”

“Yes, a woman called Aritane but I’ve nothing to do with that.” Naldeth looked surprised. “I’m just lending a hand to keep this ship on course. I’ll want to see what’s to do in Kellarin. My affinity’s with fire and I hear the Edisgesset miners are planning on refining ore this year.” He grinned. “But you’re welcome to woo the demoiselle if you want.”

“I’ve no notion of wooing anyone.” Parrail tried to cover his chagrin with firm dignity. “I thought you worked at the Archmage’s orders.”

“When I’m one of three mages standing and Elietimm enchanters are knocking everyone else out of the game. Back in Hadrumal, I’m just a middling fish in a busy pond.” Disappointment lent a strained note to Naldeth’s offhand answer.

Parrail nodded. “I know what you mean.”

“I thought I could make more of a splash in Kellarin.” Naldeth’s talkative nature won out over any impulse to discretion. “It’s all very well endlessly debating theory and speculation but it’s nice to have ordinary folk glad of your help, not looking as if you’ve got two heads, if you offer to light wet firewood.”

He would have said more but the sailors’ calls rose to a new urgency. Master Gede bellowed a sudden command and the
Tang
heeled round on sweeping canvas wings to dart into the sound. The rolling swell of the open ocean gave way to calmer waters between the two islands, glassy smooth where they reflected the bright sun, crystal clear in the shallows of a frowning cliff, dark skerries visible just beneath the surface.

Naldeth spared a wary glance for passing sailors before urging Parrail to the side rail. “Let’s get a look at this place.”

The ship followed the curve of the shore past a precipitous cliff. Below a hollow in the hills some way ahead, a shingle spit offered a gently shelving anchorage. The shore of the lesser island broke into shallow promontories hiding little bays, with folds of land beyond rising in green swells.

Parrail sniffed. “Is that meat smoking?”

“They did it!” Amazed, Naldeth pointed to a vessel beached on the strand, masts lopsided as the retreating tide left it unsupported. It had the same long hull as the
Tang
, suited for open or inshore waters, square rigged on fore and main masts, shallow fore- and aftcastles in the most recent style and rails guarding the waist of the ship, low to ease the loading and unloading of cargo carried in the capacious hold.

“Den Harkeil’s ship?” Parrail squinted but no flags flew.

“I can’t tell.” Naldeth shook his head, visibly annoyed. “Just because this lot got lucky, that doesn’t mean anyone else will.”

Parrail sought a better view. “Perhaps it’s a Kellarin ship?”

“Sail ho!” Looking up at the shout, both saw the lookout in the crow’s-nest was pointing astern.

“Another ship?” Naldeth wondered aloud.

“Master Mage, Master Scholar!” The captain’s harsh summons set them hurrying for the sterncastle.

“Have either of you had word of other ships?” demanded Master Gede as Naldeth reached the top of the stairs.

“No one’s bespoken me.” Naldeth shook his head.

“Nothing from Bremilayne?” Gede peered aft, trying to identify the newcomer. About a quarter as long again as the
Tang
with the same long lines, it carried a formidable weight of sail rigged for speed and attack. Fore- and aftmasts carried three courses of canvas compared to the
Tang
’s two and that wasn’t counting the square-rigged bowsprit and two lateen-rigged mizzens on the aftdeck. Fancy carving adorned rails and the wales and the beakhead at the bow was carved into a threatening shark. As it closed, the boldly painted name below was plain:
Spurdog
. “Master Parrail?”

“I’ve heard nothing but Artifice isn’t always effective worked over the ocean,” Parrail hastily qualified his reply.

“Ware sail forrard!”

Gede gauged the speed of the rapidly approaching vessel behind before looking to the front where a second ship emerged from concealment behind a curve of the shore. The newcomer could have been built from the same plans as the
Spurdog
but a sterner shipwright had fashioned the plain rails ringing the crow’s-nests and deck castles. The bow was unadorned but for a brass spike and the name
Thornray
carved and painted black beneath.

“Dast’s teeth, it’s a god-cursed trap!” spat Gede.

“We’ve barely steerage, this slow,” the helmsman hissed, testing his whipstaff with a leathery hand.

“All sail!” Gede bellowed. “Wizard, raise us a wind!”

“Flag astern!” The lookout clung to the rope stays at a perilous angle.

As the
Spurdog
ran a vivid scarlet pennant up its mainmast, the
Thornray
answered with its own.

“That’s no Tormalin insignia,” said Parrail dubiously. “Who raises snake flags?”

“Pirates,” said the captain with loathing. He narrowed his eyes to judge the course of the
Thornray
now intent on blocking their path. Naldeth didn’t look up from a spark of blue light he was cherishing between his hands. He drew his palms a little wider and the light grew into an iridescent sphere, azure threaded through with brightness painful to the eye.

“Quick as you like, wizard.” The helmsman glanced over his shoulder as the
Spurdog
’s sails stole what little breeze the
Tang
could hope for between the confining islands.

The lookout yelled with fear and fury as a shower of arrows rattled among the
Tang
’s sails. Several sailors cried out, arms or legs bloodied. One unfortunate thudded heavily to the deck; screaming and clawing at a vicious shaft piercing his belly.

Parrail knocked Naldeth clean off his feet. The mage’s curse went unspoken as he saw bright arrowheads biting deep into the planking where he’d stood. Master Gede was dragging the helmsman beneath the inadequate shelter of the stern rail, the man choking on his own blood, an arrow deep in his chest. Shocked, Naldeth’s magic scattered in a haphazard flurry of feeble gusts.

Master Gede knelt on one knee by the whipstaff, the other booted foot braced and his hand steady. “We need wind, Master Mage.”

“Can you use the water to slow them?” Parrail’s voice shook.

“It’s too antithetical.” Naldeth fought to steady his hands as a faint sapphire glow suffused the empty air between them. He’d done this before, he reminded himself. If he was ever going to be the equal of Kalion or Otrick, he had to meet challenges like this. If he lived that long.

A second deadly wave of arrows came from the rigging of the pursuing ship. “They’re looking for magelight.” Parrail cowered by the stern rail trying to help the helmsman.

“Curse it!” Raw power burst from Naldeth’s hands. At the last moment, he managed to fling it up at the main mast and the
Tang
lurched as the sails suddenly filled, dragging the vessel bodily through the water.

“Ware rocks!” A sailor high on the foremast pointed urgently off to one side.

“Ware boats!” The cry came up from the waist of the ship, frantic sailors gesturing ahead and astern. A flotilla of long boats was darting out from the lesser island’s hidden bays where they’d been lurking for the
Thornray
’s signal. Parrail risked a glance over the stern rail and saw a second hungry pack come fanning out on either side of the
Spurdog
. Sweating rowers leaned into their oars, each boat full of raiders, swords in hand. In every prow, a man swung a menacing grappling iron.

Naldeth’s face contorted as he struggled to master the gusting currents of air buffeting him. Livid glints of magic swirled around him but at last a steady wind billowed the
Tang
’s sails. The pirates astern hurled abuse as the ship pulled away, the enchanted wind stronger than the toiling men at their oars. Shouts of alarm ahead sounded beneath the questing prow, splintering sounds of wood drowning them an instant later.

Gede shook his head at Naldeth. “Stop or we’ll ram her!”

The
Thornray
was dead ahead, her rails lined with pirates. Her captain was steering directly into the
Tang
’s path, confident his heavier hull would withstand the impact.

“What can I do?” Naldeth stood stricken with indecision.

“Lend a hand to turn her!” Gede was struggling to steer his ship past the predatory pirate’s stern.

Parrail cowered beneath the rail, trying to staunch the helmsman’s wound. “
Zistra feydra en al dret
.” His voice cracked as he tried to work the enchantment. The helmsman coughed a gout of scarlet blood and drew a deep shuddering breath before falling limp beneath Parrail’s hands.

Thuds sounded all along the ship’s sides. The long boats had reached the
Tang
. Pirates flung their grapnels with practised precision and for every rope a desperate sailor cut, two more gripped with irons claws biting deep with the weight of men climbing the lines below. The pirates swarmed over the rail, sailcloth jackets soaked in pitch to foil the few blades that the sailors could muster. Once on the deck, every raider drew short swords or daggers in either hand, hilts wrapping round into brazen knuckles for a brutal punch if close quarters foiled a stroke with a blade.

“
Zistra feydra en
—” Parrail choked on his enchantment as a grappling iron soaring high over the rail hit a sailor at the bottom of the aft castle stair. The man shrieked, razor sharp points ripping open his face and chest.

Instinct brought blazing fire to Naldeth’s outstretched palm. He threw it full in the face of the first pirate to set foot on the deck by the screaming man. Crimson with magic, flames wrapped around the pirate with a furnace roar. Hair blazed in a passing flash then the man’s naked scalp blackened and split, face beneath contorted in tortured shock. Raw flesh oozed for a scant breath before the all-consuming fire scoured the man’s silent scream to the rictus grin of a skull. He fell, head charred and naked bone, arms scorched and blistered, booted legs untouched. Sparks took hold of the pitch in his smouldering jerkin and the magical fire ran greedily across the deck leaving barely a scorch mark. It leapt to the grappling iron, melting it into a shapeless lump before consuming the rope as it went in search of fresh victims in the boat below. Unseen screams lifted above the ear-splitting din of the vicious struggle aboard.

“Wizard, yonder!” Master Gede waved at a new sail. A gaff-rigged ship, deft and manoeuvrable was swooping down the anchorage. Barely two thirds the length of the
Tang
, the single mast carried triangular headsails rigged to the bowsprit and cut back all the better to spill wind and turn the ship in its own length. The square topsail and fore-and-aft mainsail drove her on and a bold red pennon streamed from the masthead, a black snake writhing down the length of it.

Frenzied, Naldeth snatched at the roiling air around him but a hail of slingshot thudded all around, bruising him cruelly. He wove a frantic, fragile shield but it was too late. Master Gede was down, bleeding from a gash to the head, the
Tang
drifting forlorn without his guiding hand.

Parrail had been vomiting but struggled towards the captain on his hands and knees. Tears poured down the scholar’s face but he gritted his teeth and mouthed the measured syllables of a charm.

Naldeth looked wildly into the waist of the ship where the crew fought with pirates swarming aboard from all directions. Gede’s boatswain went down to a slashing blade, the shipwright beside him struggling to defend himself with a belaying pin at the same time as stretching a hand to his fallen comrade. The pirate hacked it from his arm and raised his weapon for a killing blow but the sailor who’d fallen first kicked out with his last breath. The one-handed sailor smashed the pirate’s face to a bloody pulp with his length of solid oak but another raider cut him down, stamping for footing on the bodies of ally and prey alike.