Dark Empress (37 page)

“Baeso? He’s coming at us head on. If you’re as good as you reckon, give me a shot along their port side with the heaviest load you’ve got, at the rear for preference.”

The man nodded without question and, making a few quick mental calculations, adjusted the range and angle of the weapon.

“Ready when you are, sir.”

“By all means, Mr. Baeso. Do some damage.”

The shot was, even for Baeso’s high standards, expertly aimed and launched. Samir watched with no small amount of pride as the largest sack of boulders available in the turret was cast up and over the water with a massive thump and a roar. As with all such shots, the bag was designed to hold the ammunition together for only so long. By the time the sack had covered half the distance to the oncoming ship, it had split and the four heavy boulders were now streaking independently toward the Wind of God.

The first boulder hit the rail at the edge of the main deck close to the bow, sending shards of shattered timber and lethal foot-long splinters scything along the deck at waist height and causing a number of horrifying casualties. The second rock disappeared into the sea off the port side with a fountain of roaring foam. The other two boulders, however, ran true. The first hit the top bank of oars midway along the ship, snapping and cracking the wooden shafts and bouncing along the horizontal line of poles, smashing and shattering, until it disappeared with a splash. The last shot arced over, beyond the other three and came down with a crash through the steering oars, smashing them to pieces.

Desperate commands were being shouted over on the other ship, and the hull lurched and veered violently to port, presenting a board target to the Empress.

“This is too easy, Col.”

Turning, he gestured with familiar signals to the artillerist, who nodded and, with the help of his men, loaded another huge sack onto the catapult while another crewman lit the next mass on the fire thrower.

Without bothering to watch them, Samir signalled with his arm for them to fire when ready. There was a straining noise and then a heavy thump. As Samir watched, another expertly-aimed shot sent the bag flying in a high arc, much higher than the last. At its apex, the sack split open and a cluster of iron weights, sharp shards of metal and glass, and rods with pointed ends showered the naval vessel, tearing through the sails, splitting ropes, destroying the rigging and effectively crippling the enemy’s ability to make sail.

Simultaneously, the fire thrower launched the ball of flaming material directly at the centre of the enemy ship. As Samir watched the flaming mass bear down on its target, he realised with a start that Ghassan’s men had also launched their artillery. Not prepared yet for fire, they had relied on the catapult and the bolt thrower while crewmen presumably fetched the fire ammunition from secure storage. A two foot long iron bolt shot past Samir as he blinked in surprise, went straight through the chest of the junior officer behind him and continued on along the deck with such force that it decapitated another man and impaled a third, lodging itself in his chest and pinning him to the wooden housing at the rear.

It had been a lucky shot. The catapult attack was less so. Unable to get a clear aim with their listing and bucking vessel, the bag of boulders flew past, high above the deck. One of the boulders clipped the main mast while another ripped a section of rigging to shreds, but the damage was minimal.

Pulling himself upright once more in the wake of the assault, Samir noted with satisfaction that the central artillery tower of the naval ship was wreathed in a fire that was beginning to spread up the ropes.

“Heave to!” bellowed Samir and the crew began working like fury to arrest the ship’s forward momentum. He nodded. They had to slow now or they would ram the enemy. Ghassan’s ship was done for now, and Samir had no intention of allowing the Empress to go down with her.

He winced as he realised what was about to happen and put up his hands to guard himself just in case. As he took a deep breath, the combustible shot that had been brought from storage to the naval ship’s artillery section succumbed to the heat of the flames dancing around it.

An explosion burst up like a sickly yellow mushroom at the centre of the enemy ship. Shards of wood flew in every direction and the billowing flames rushed up the edge of the sails as they caught. There was no hope now for Ghassan’s ship. Most of his marines had been close to the explosion at the centre of the main deck. Samir would estimate their numbers at perhaps thirty on a standard vessel. A dozen at most made it to the rail, trailing flames and black roiling smoke as they dived over the edge and into the blessed water.

Samir sighed. He hadn’t quite meant for that much damage. They would have perhaps five minutes before the vessel sank; certainly not enough time to loot the thing, not that Ghassan would be likely to have much worth taking.

As he stood, his gaze danced nervously around the enemy deck among the flames and the chaos, trying to spot Ghassan. Though he’d not really intended to cause so much death and injury, there was one man on that ship that he particularly did not want to see flaming and sizzling as he tried to reach the safety of the water.

The Empress slowed as she neared the blazing ship and finally came to a halt perhaps thirty yards from the wallowing mess.

Samir sagged and, though he kept his countenance carefully hidden from his own men, a smile of relief crossed his face as he spotted Ghassan stride straight-backed and formal from the cabin doorway.

What he wasn’t prepared for was the fact that his brother was dragging another person by the arm; a woman no less. Samir frowned. What in the seven faces of Ha’Rish was a woman doing on board a navy ship. He turned.

“Col? Get two of the lifeboats lowered, have the men be armed and ready and get their survivors aboard as fast as you can.”

Col gave him a look of mixed pride and disapproval and then turned and ran off to pass on his captain’s orders. Some of the men would not look kindly on having taken down the most famous ship in the Calphorian navy only to rescue its crew and for no prize. There may be comeback for it later, but Samir was prepared. Part of the Empress’ reputation relied on the code of conduct with which they dealt with their prey. Besides, having removed their most relentless hunter from the game should be prize enough.

Samir waved an arm and noticed Ghassan turn at the gesture and drag the woman along the deck until they were at the rail only thirty yards away.

“Ghassan! Get your lifeboats down. I’ll give you two of ours as well. Your crew can come aboard for now and they won’t be harmed, so long as they surrender their weapons.”

For a long moment, his brother glared at him in silence across the lapping gulf, the roar of flaming sails creating a deafening background.

“Samir!”

The pirate captain frowned as the woman in Ghassan’s grip called his name. Who could…

He almost fell over as he realised.

“Asima?”

“Samir! Save me. Ghassan’s taking me away!”

Samir blinked and shook his head.

“Get aboard a lifeboat the pair of you, and fast. You’ve only got minutes!”

Indeed, as he watched, the listing ship was already tipping further as water poured into the oar ports. He bit his lip and watched in silence as Ghassan bellowed the order to abandon ship and the remaining crew ran to the boats, many of them taking a shortcut and diving into the water from the higher side of the dangerously-leaning vessel.

Samir watched with amazement and confusion as his two closest childhood friends pushed their boat out away from the sinking ship and some of their companions began to row toward the Empress.

This was going to be interesting.

In which meetings and partings take place

Samir shook his head as he sat back in the chair in his private room on board the Empress. Outside, he could hear the survivors of the naval vessel being disarmed, stripped of valuables, and put under guard. Some of the men would be tempted to take out their frustrations on the men of the Imperial military; certainly most of the captains in Lassos would have simply left the men to drown, or even stripped them of anything worthwhile and then tipped them overboard. Samir, however, was well aware of the role that reputation played in survival as a pirate. The name of the Dark Empress and her captain were spoken with irritation and anger among the military but, with the record of mercy and honour they maintained, many of the ordinary folk felt a measure of approval for Samir. He had heard his name spoken with reverence in the back streets of Calphoris. Better to be loved by half the population than hated by them all.

“Ghassan, I have no intention of killing your men. They will be set adrift in lifeboats with ample room for them all and enough rations to see them all through until they can make landfall near Eagle Rock. Whatever you think of me, you know I am not a monster.”

The taller brother, his wet, curly locks plastered to his forehead and a look of angry misery on his features, stayed silent, his gaze moving occasionally between his two childhood friends and gracing them will equal distain and disapproval.

“Ghassan, they will be fine. You, on the other hand, will not.”

“You intend to do away with me, then?”

He almost spat out the words and glared at his smaller brother.

Samir had to laugh at the ridiculous words.

“Don’t be an idiot, Ghassan. In fact, I’m going to help you. If you go back to Calphoris with the rest you’ll be at best left ashore to rot in the barracks thanks to the loss of your ship. It’s far more likely, in fact, that you’ll be disciplined and drummed out of the forces pensionless to go starve on the streets. That’s where we came from, Ghassan. You don’t want to go back there.”

He thought for a moment and then frowned. “There is even the possibility that they will try you for your failure and deem you disposable.”

Ghassan grumbled but said nothing. Samir sighed.

“We could use you, Ghassan. You’re a born sailor, like me. You’d no small reputation yourself ‘til today. Come with us and avoid any unpleasantness at Calphoris.”

The elder brother opened his mouth to speak, his face bleak, but Asima interrupted, launching herself from the chair and slapping the flat of her hand on Samir’s desk, crumpling a chart.

“Don’t you dare take him on, Samir. This worthless husk that was your brother is a rigid golem following the rules of his foreign superiors without a thought for any of us. He doesn’t deserve your mercy!”

“Asima?” Samir seemed genuinely taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“This pig was taking me against my will as a gift for some perverse nobleman in the capital. I was to be nothing more than a whore to some fat prince in Velutio. I begged him to turn round; to set me free…”

Ghassan was staring at her as though he’d never seen her before. He opened his mouth and made a croaking sound. Samir matched his expression as he boggled at Asima.

“All I want” she went on angrily “is to go home and this creature won’t let me. Some superior in the military decided I’d make a nice gift for a friend and Ghassan is hardly going to save a girl he once loved if it means disobeying the order of some fat general half the world away!”

She fell silent and turned to look at Ghassan. With her face now hidden from Samir, she graced Ghassan with a wicked and humourless smile, before allowing her indignant masque to fall across her face once more and turning back to the smaller brother.

Ghassan stared in horror as Samir’s expression hardened.

“I still extend my offer, Ghassan. You are my brother and, regardless of anything either of us has done, blood holds true.”

Ghassan blinked.

“You don’t believe her?”

Samir shrugged.

“You are the most duty-bound man I’ve ever met, and you were on direct course for Velutio with Asima on board. Please do not try to deny anything, Ghassan. I would hate to have to listen to you embarrass yourself.”

“But she’s lying, Samir. It’s all she does. She’s not a whore… she’s a witch!”

Asima reeled in shock; fake shock, Ghassan was sure, but Samir seemed to be drinking it all in.

“You” Asima spat, glaring at Ghassan, “are going to get in the little boats with your crew and drift out into the sea. I would not wish harm on you, for the sake of our old friendship, but I have no wish to see you ever again.”

She turned to Samir.

“If he stays on board with you, then I will go adrift in the boats!”

Ghassan growled.

“You stay here with my precious brother. The pair of you deserve each other and I have no wish to stay on board with either of you. I would rather take my chances with the review board in Calphoris than share a single meal with you.”

Standing, he straightened, cast one unpleasant look at each of them and, turning, opened the door and left the room.

There was an uncomfortable silence after the latch clicked shut. Asima turned her face to Samir slowly, allowing him the full effect as tears welled up in her eyes and she began to shake.

Samir frowned, deep in thought.

“Dry your eyes, Asima. I will not send you to Velutio.”

Noting with interest a small flicker in her eyes, the young pirate captain stood and, reaching out, squeezed her shoulder supportively.