15
Amlach’s gaze drew mine. I saw a blend of surprise, anger, happiness, and desire flash in his eyes before he focused back on the men who had approached us.
“I’ll take the big ones on the left,” he said, changing his grip on the dagger’s hilt and preparing to jump on the lifeboat.
“You still haven’t learned,” I scolded him, watching as the gap between the bows of the boats and our raft grew smaller.
“Learned what?” he replied absently, moving one foot back to gain momentum.
The corner of my lips curled up slightly. “I’m stronger than you.” And I launched myself onto the left boat.
Quick as lightning, I darted between the first two men at the bow and punched the one behind them, sending him into the sea.
I wounded the pirate rowing on the arms and then leaped at the two at the stern.
Sinuous like the water around us, I dodged their blows and cut them on different body parts, then I kicked them into the sea.
The next moment, I turned to face the remaining big men on the boat. But first, I took half a second to check on Amlach.
He had already killed two men and just cut the throat of a third pirate, then threw him mercilessly at the one who pounced on him with a brutal cry.
The other two guys, soaked in their friend’s blood, moved around their companion and headed for Amlach, who was waiting for them with a spiteful smile and eyes gleaming with perverse excitement.
A hiss in the air caught my attention back to the boat I was on, so I tilted my head just in time to dodge a saber strike.
I clashed swords with my remaining opponents, and before they could react, I sliced the tendons behind one’s knee and then the ligaments of the other’s biceps.
I kicked each of them, and their cries of pain instantly ceased as they hit the blue surface.
“Amlach, let’s go!” I shouted, eager to row us away from the pirate ship.
“I’m a little busy at the moment,” he replied between battle grunts.
One of the pirates punched Amlach in the face, the other took the opportunity to disarm him with a kick, and the third delivered an uppercut to his stomach.
As soon as Amlach’s dagger sank into the sea, I jumped onto the boat he was on and snuck up behind the first pirate, knocking him out with a blow to the head. The second pirate swung his blade, and I moved back just enough to narrowly avoid being gutted.
Amlach kicked him in the chest, causing him to fly out of the boat. The third pirate was about to stab him in the heart with a battle cry, but Amlach grabbed his wrist—the tip of the blade almost tearing through his tunic—and tried to push him away.
I was about to throw myself at the enemy, but a sudden, violent dizziness made me sway more than the already-rocking boat.
I went still, eyes lost in the void, trying to understand what was happening to me. “I feel weird,” I whispered.
I felt like I was losing something.
The sound of Amlach’s forehead hitting the pirate’s nose and knocking him over wiped out the suspicious sensation that had just gone through me.
But it was the sound of a bow being drawn that triggered my senses.
In a split second, I grabbed Amlach’s arm and pulled him toward me just before an arrow pierced his chest.
Breathing rapidly with a line of blood pouring copiously from his nostrils, he looked at the dart in the water and then shot me a mischievous look. “Still saving me, after all.”
I glared at him petulantly, then heard more bows drawing and looked up at the ship.
Five archers had their arrows aimed at us from the stern deck. Even if I threw Amlach into the sea, I could never stop all those arrows from piercing him. I would probably get hit myself just trying.
An applause resonated in the salty breeze.
I turned my head toward the forecastle. Leaning against the wooden railing, the man I supposed was the captain smiled at us, and the sun’s blinding light reflected off some of his gold teeth.
“Thanks for the show,” he said with a harsh, unpleasant voice, removing his black cocked hat to mock us with a slight bow. “Bring our new passengers aboard,” he commanded the two men still in the lifeboat with us.
A young man wearing a black bandana and a white shirt—maybe his second-in-command—approached the captain. “Help the wounded,” he ordered to no one in particular.
“No!” the captain shouted, causing his men to exchange puzzled looks.
“But, sir!” the second-in-command protested in a low voice, yet clearly audible to me.
“If they’re idiots enough to be beaten by a female,” the captain interrupted him sternly, “they should become food for sharks.”
Seeing him watch carelessly, almost with amusement, as the wounded pirates tried to stay afloat and hoist themselves on the second boat filled me with boiling hatred.
“Throw the dagger in water, woman,” ordered the man whose nose Amlach had broken, wiping the dripping blood with the hairy back of his knife-holding hand. I obeyed, and he sneered. “Sit down, lovebirds”.
The pirate I had struck at the nape placed his large hands on our shoulders and pushed us onto one of the transverse benches. Then he sat down on the bench for the oarsman and started rowing toward the galleon.
Amlach touched my elbow with his, leaning slightly toward me. “Sorry, Elf,” he murmured.
He was apologizing for not telling me earlier before reporting our position to an unknown ship.
Because, in the end, we had been captured.
I looked at him sideways, my hand burning with the urge to intertwine with his to strengthen my words even more. “We will find a way back to our land. I promise.”