CHAPTER 24 #2
I turned to the leathery skin and bald head of the exact man I needed and smiled. He was broad-chested with arms like ropes, a bit too much weight around the middle, and a mustache so wide and white that he looked more walrus than man.
“You know I hate that nickname.” I gripped the older man’s forearm.
“Why do you think I use it?” Longven winked. “I’ve got the Helgana making her way around the bend now. She was over at the interlock getting a good scrape down, but she’s ready for seafaring.”
“My thanks, Marr.”
“It’s just Longven to you.”
I smirked. “I know.”
Longven chuckled and clapped my back. “I haven’t been up to the keep in a while. How are you faring?”
“Well enough.”
“That father of yours not giving you too much trouble?”
“No more than usual.” I nodded. Longven was as loyal as he was astute, and I appreciated his separation of the man—my father—from the clan leader.
“And this girl he’s cooked up for you?”
Serae. Things with her were…I shrugged.
Longven nodded, then turned to the eastern coast. “That’ll be her, just rounding the bend.”
I followed his gaze and could barely make out a pinprick in the distance.
“She’s fast and light. We’ll catch them up in no time.” He brushed a hand down his mustache. “I’ll go get these whelps assembled.”
Before the hour was out, I found myself perched at the prow of the Helgana, speeding south through the fading light.
Longven let out two birds, one southeast and one southwest. This was an odd choice.
Anything going to or from Cavendaffe would be due south of Drakh, exactly where the ship Yaego had spotted was headed before it left visibility.
Longven only tapped the side of his nose and nodded at my questioning look. You’ll see, he mouthed at me.
We sped along, and the wind whipped at my face. Thankfully, I had the presence of mind to tightly braid my hair and switch to sea leathers, which were lighter weight and water-wicking, in my rush to depart.
Longven joined me at the prow and frowned. “The seas are too calm.”
“Oil?” I asked.
“Oil.”
“Fuck.” We only cast oil to the sea when we needed to calm the waves. Controlling the water meant the others expected to be outmatched.
“Ready yourself. We’re in for a fight.”
One of the birds screeched and dove for Longven, landing on his outstretched forearm. “Southeast,” he said grimly, then he shouted down the ranks to change course.
I frowned. Southeast made no sense. Perhaps I’d seen wrong, and it wasn’t Cavendaffe colors.
Some sort of ruse? I scratched my jaw, a healthy stubble growing.
The crafts weren’t Volaachi, of that much I was certain.
The clouds shifted, and a ray of moonlight peeked through, illuminating the mist that hung over these waters.
As our ship turned, we saw them. Three vessels emerged portside.
One unmistakable Drakhi craft, which I knew bore my brother.
The other two ships we’d sent out were nowhere in sight.
Instead, the remaining two crafts barely ahead of my brother’s were distinctly Inraen, and distinctly hostile.
“They’ve engaged!” a woman shouted down from the nest.
The longship’s crews hurtled into action.
Longven tossed out commands to each crew, who leapt as units to obey.
Lines were pulled, sails were shifted, and the Helgana flew over the waves like one of the captain’s hawks.
We closed in, and clanging rang out across the narrowing expanse.
Arrows thunked into wood and flesh, and two Inraen men fell into the sea.
Plucking a longbow from the ranks, I hooked it into a notch at the prow, along with a dozen other archers, and readied my arrow.
I braced, waiting for their ship to come into range.
They’d left lanterns hanging all along their decks, lighting up targets for us.
Behind me, crews lined up with planks and rope ladders, and behind them were crews with spears and javelins.
“STEADY,” Longven shouted from behind. One of his birds took flight, likely sent off to Drakh with a message.
His second hawk—recently returned fruitless from scouting to the southwest—was resting in the nest with the lookout.
She would be sent back with the result of the battle.
A note indicating our failure was likely already tied to her leg.
It would be swapped only after a success, allowing the bird to fly off with bad news even if every one of us died.
I forced the heavy thought from my mind. Just another necessity of warfare. Less than ten seconds until we would be in range, by my count. The people on the ships were becoming clearer.
“Fuck!” the woman next to me shouted. “They’re overrun!” Her name was Anweh, and I knew her as a superb markswoman with a sharp eye. I had helped with her training but had never fought alongside her before.
My sight told me we were seven seconds out of range. I set my jaw. There was too much Inraen red on the Drakhi ship’s deck.
Six. “NOCK,” I shouted.
Five. The archers around me steadied their shots.
Four. “STEADY AIM.”
Three. I picked my target on the nearest Inraen ship.
Two. I breathed in.
One.
“RELEASE.”
At the bottom of my exhale, I let the arrow fly. A dozen arrows followed in a death arc through the sky. A cloud shifted overhead, casting us into shadow.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Half the arrows hit their marks. The other half tore through sails, impaled wood, or fell harmlessly to the black sea. We readied another volley.
Behind me, the bridge unit moved starboard, readying their planks to connect to our Drakhi counterpart.
Longven shouted instructions from midship. “We bridge and free our sister ship. Archers, get ready to shift to short bows. Shields, ready your cover. Once the Calanya is recovered, we take the near ship.”
The plan was sound, but I knew the risk without it being voiced. There was every chance the second Inraen ship might turn and flee before we could wrangle it. If that happened, we would have to run it down and sink it. It was a problem to worry about later.
“RELEASE,” I called. The second volley flew. The fact that no arrows yet flew our way was a good sign. Aside from Inraen bows having shit range, my brother’s ship was keeping them occupied. At least he was good for something.
The shield captain behind me shouted, “READY THE SWITCH.” A man crouched at my left, ready to help de-notch and remove the longbow. Men and women crouched beside each archer down the line, doing the same.
“LIFT THE PLANKS,” Longven’s second shouted.
The man himself was named Plankh, a coincidence that would make Serae laugh when I told her.
Dragons, I needed to get back to her every bit as much as I itched to be a part of the boarding crew.
But they had no archer captain on the Helgana.
The regular woman for this crew took ill earlier in the week, so I would better serve the crew filling the vacancy.
Unlike my brother, I didn’t have to always be front and center with the action.
“RELEASE,” I called for the final time.
“SWITCH,” the shield captain’s command followed.
In pairs, we heaved aside the longbows then snatched up short bows and shields.
The shield crew stayed crouched at our sides, ready to pop up to block arrows and spears or to engage from behind if we were boarded, all without interrupting the archer’s flow.
“ON YOUR OWN TIME,” I commanded. The archers loosed in a steady flow, despite the risk of firing at night.
“Starboard, shift to the Calanya.” I had enough faith in the archers’ skills and training that they could avoid our own warriors at this range.
Each one should know a safe shot from a risky one.
I looked to the enemy ship. At this range, there was no mistaking them.
Every man—these idiots refused to train women in their militia—was wearing Inraen red with an obvious Cavendaffe sash marking his allegiance.
I ground my teeth, but only for a moment.
I needed to relax into my flow to be of any real use.
Nock. Target. Breathe. Release.
My first arrow plunged through the eye of an Inraen soldier.
Nock. Target. Breathe. Release.
My second tore through the leg of a man and thudded into the deck behind him.
The portside crew was firing next to me with devastating accuracy. The starboard, less so. The Calanya’s deck had become so entangled that it was impossible to pick safe targets without compromising our own.
“Aim for the far ship,” I called down the line. “Anything you can get in your sights.”
Cries of men and women alike rang out from the Calanya. Metal clashed. We needed to move faster, but it was essential to slow to a crawl if we wanted to perform a successful bridge. Longven was an expert, having practically invented the maneuver. Almost there.
I fired two more shots, both missing their marks, and I cursed.
Crash!
The planks had fallen. One by one, I heard the latch mechanisms click into place.
“SECURE,” Plankh shouted. Then, “BOARDING CREW, AS ONE!” as boots thundered over the makeshift bridge lashing the two ships together.
I turned as the man beside me jumped to his feet, covering my back with a broad shield.
I needed to lay eyes on my brother. The longship was organized chaos of red and brown.
Midship, I could pick out one woman fighting off two of Cavendaffe’s men at once.
She spun, whipping her blades around, but it was a risky move that left her side open.
The soldier saw it. He thrust, and I turned away as she fell.
Our warriors were flooding midship and would minimize casualties in seconds.
A volley from the far ship was released. Cavendaffe’s captain must not care if they struck Inraen or Riht. I watched a dozen men and women fall, more than half of them Inraen.