Heirs of the Fallen: Book 04 - Wrath of the Fallen (26 page)

Chapter 32

After a long hot day spent trying not to think about everything that could go wrong, Leitos now found himself tamping down his excitement for the coming battle.

Armed only with daggers and stripped to their small clothes he, Sumahn, and Nola used the cover of night to creep over breakwater guarding Zuladah’s harbor. The weight of bulging net sacks weighted their shoulders and bent their backs.

Unseen in the night, two other boarding parties were moving toward their targets. The rest of the company was hidden amongst the shanties along the snake-back road that led from Zuladah to the harbor.

Leitos and the others edged closer to the waterline, eyes fixed on the faint light of firemoss lanterns swinging fore and aft on the numerous Kelren ships. Only three ships mattered this night, and for Leitos, only the one he and his party would board held his focus.

Sumahn paused at water’s edge. He wore the same eager grin that he had since first hearing Ulmek’s plan. “Ready?”

After nodding, Nola cast a worried look toward the ship their group had chosen. Leitos shared her anxiety. Climbing aboard an anchored ship would take much skill and more luck. Add to that the trouble of a watchman spotting them while they made the attempt, and the odds were stacked against them. But turning aside was no option.

“Leitos?” Sumahn asked.

Leitos made sure the rope securing the sack to his waist had not tangled, then signaled his readiness. Together, the trio eased into the gentle surf and began to swim toward their target. When they reached the ship’s anchor line, a hempen cable as thick as his arm, Leitos treaded water and unwound his rope, letting the sack drift. Sumahn and Nola bobbed in the water a little way off.

When he was ready, Leitos gripped the anchor line, which slanted at a steep angle from the ship’s bow into the sea. Ulmek believed most of the sea-wolves would be carousing in Zuladah, with only a few watchmen to guard the vessels. That made sense, but if he was wrong....

Before doubts could invade his heart, Leitos began to shinny up the thick rope. The first few feet were slick and wet, and climbing was nearly impossible. Soon after, he reached a point where the cable was dry, and the coarse hemp provided a good grip. He looked back once. Sumahn and Nola were watching him, a pair of dim faces drifting on dark waters.

Leitos soon reached the hawsehole, through which the anchor line disappeared into the ship. He had to scramble about, until jamming one foot into the hole. From there, he caught the rail and slowly pulled himself up.

A hasty search showed him secured booms, furled sails, coils of rope, stacked buckets, and bulky shapes covered with canvas tarps. Of Kelrens, he saw none. If nothing else, someone had to stand watch in case the anchor broke free.
But where are they?

He scanned around one more time to make sure the way was clear, then heaved himself over the rail, and took shelter behind a stack of barrels. He again looked fore and aft. Lighted dimly by swinging firemoss lamps, the deck stood empty.

Across the harbor’s calm waters, the lanterns on the other ships still glowed, which meant the two other boarding parties had not yet secured their targets. Securing those vessels was the most difficult part of Ulmek’s strategy, and the most crucial, for what came after had to happen at the same instant. After that ... well, most everything else depended upon Muranna and her gang of ruffians.

Still keeping an eye out, Leitos hauled up the rope attached to his net sack, being as careful as he could to keep it from banging against the hull. Once he had it in hand, he tucked it out of sight for safe keeping. He crept back to the rail and waved to Sumahn and Nola. Within moments, they stood on the deck with him, their sacks stowed with his.

“Are you sure we are alone?” Sumahn asked.

“I have not seen anyone,” Leitos answered.

“A watchman could be sleeping somewhere,” Nola advised. She still wore a bandage around her head to cover her missing eye, but the wound had healed as much as it was likely to. Leitos guessed what was left of her vanity compelled her to keep the scar concealed. Belina had tried to take Nola’s place, but Damoc had forbade it. Belina was as much a fighter as Nola, but Leitos was glad she was not at his side. All that talk of hers about staying close did not sit well with him.

“We better make sure,” Sumahn advised. “I don’t want to get caught below. Nola, you take the portside. I’ll search starboard.”

Before Sumahn could set off, Leitos caught his arm. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Keep an eye on the hatch,” Sumahn answered.

Leitos gave him a nod, and the two vanished in the gloom beyond the lantern light. The longer he waited, the more nervous he became. Nola and Sumahn should have returned by now. He drew his dagger, certain trouble had found them. The idea of completing the mission alone did not trouble him so much as the thought of losing more friends.

A shadow loomed out of the night, and Leitos checked himself an instant before planting his dagger in Nola’s chest. Sumahn appeared a moment later.

“I saw nothing,” Nola said.

“Nor I,” Sumahn added.

As one, the trio glanced at the hatch, not bothering to waste breath uttering what they all knew. The Kelrens waited below decks.

“Are you ready?” Sumahn asked.

Leitos answered by catching up his sack, hooking the tie cord over his shoulder, and going to the hatch. The others came behind him. Before setting out, they had decided Leitos would go first, and now Sumahn and Nola grasped the handles to the hatch doors.

Sumahn eyed Leitos. “Are you ready to win us an army, little brother?”

Leitos swallowed, throat dry. He cleared his mind of all the possible dangers that might wait beyond those doors, of all the things that could go wrong on this ship, the other two, and on land where his father, Ulmek, and the others waited for the signals. “Now,” he said quietly.

Sumahan and Nola nodded to each other, and eased open the doors.

Leitos did not bother to hold his breath against the stench of old brimming chamber pots, salt fish, and tar he knew waited below. A faint glow lighted the ladder down to the rowing deck. Nothing stirred, no alarm sounded. Leitos hastily climbed down. At the bottom, he dropped to the deck in a crouch.

Overhead, a firemoss lantern hung from a beam, its light showing him a familiar scene. Not so long ago, he and his Brothers had boarded the
Bloody Whore
to rescue a number of their fellows who had been captured by Kelrens. As it happened, the Brothers had been chained on another ship, the
Night Blade
. Not so long ago, but it felt like a lifetime had passed since then.

Leitos scanned the rowing benches lining either side of the deck, and the racks holding shipped oars. Crates and barrels were stacked against the fore and aft bulkheads. In the center of the rowing deck was another large hatch that led down to the hold. Most of the ship’s reek, Leitos knew from experience, wafted up through the hatch’s wooden grating. Down there lay the ship’s stores, along with the slaves’ quarters. If there had been any slaves aboard, they would have been offloaded by now, and sent to the mines spread across Geldain.

Leitos signaled to Sumahan and Nola that all was clear. The two joined him, and Sumahn pointed to the door set in the forward bulkhead. No orders were needed for what would happen beyond that door.

After carefully placing their sacks on the deck, Sumahn grasped the latch and opened the door. The hinges creaked, and the bottom of the door scratched against the deck planks. Leitos’s heart leaped into his throat as the light from the lantern at their backs poured into the dark crew’s quarters.

“Boval, close that bloody damned door,” a man grumbled sleepily.

Another said, “And get back to your post, or I’ll flay your skin.”

Sumahn froze.

“Shut that door, you sheep-buggering idiot,” a third sea-wolf called, this one sounding more awake.

Leitos darted through the doorway. Nola followed, and Sumahn closed the door at their backs, dousing them and the sea-wolves in absolute darkness.

“Mark me,” the first Kelren rumbled, “I’ll slice off tha’ pretty fool’s stones.”

“Tessa will not like you makin’ a eunuch of her lover,” came a drowsy mumble.

“After a night in my hammock,” the first bragged, “Tessa will forget the face of Boval.”

A nasty chuckle filled the stuffy black confines. “‘Tis not Boval’s face Tessa craves.”

“Back to sleep,” the third sea-wolf growled. “Our watch starts too soon to waste good sleep prating about Tessa’s taste in cocks, or Boval’s withered stones.”

A few sleepy grumbles of consent met this, then silence fell.

After a while, Leitos’s eyes adjusted to the weak light filtering through cracks in the door. Before them hung swinging hammocks. All but three were empty. Tonight, it seemed, luck was with the boarders. Had there been more sea-wolves, their task would have been far more difficult.

Clutching his dagger, Leitos advanced on silent feet toward the farthest sea-wolf. Sumahn and Nola spread out to either side, choosing their targets without a word.

When close enough, Leitos dropped down and crawled under a swinging hammock stretched by the bulk of a slumbering Kelren. He could not see much, save faint glints of light in the eyes of his companions. They were ready, waiting.

Leitos clamped a hand over the mouth and nose of his victim, and hung all his weight from that hand, pinning the man. The sea-wolf began thrashing, and Leitos thrust his dagger into the base of the slaver’s skull. The thin spike of steel pierced bone and sank deep. The Kelren stiffened, then began shuddering. Leitos held fast. A few drops of blood ran over the crossguard and dripped to his hand. The sea-wolf abruptly went still.

They made a quick check of the other hammocks, ensuring they had not missed anyone, then returned to the rowing deck.

“Two more remain, at least,” Nola said.

“Boval and Tessa,” Leitos agreed, wiping the blood from his hand. Even after the drops were gone, he could still feel their heat, like molten coins against his skin.

“Then where are they?” Nola asked.

“According to their mates,” Sumahn said, “they are lovers. I doubt they would be in the hold. And, as they were not on the main deck, there can only be one place left.”

“The shipmaster’s cabin,” Leitos said, facing the aft bulkhead door.

Sumahn said, “I will bear the blade that stills their hearts, while you two hold them.”

“That hardly seems fair,” Nola said.

Sumahn grinned. “Next time, don’t take so long to claim the honor.”

“Let’s be about this,” Leitos said, moving to the aft door. He opened it a crack and peeked through, then shoved it open on a cramped galley redolent of spices and rancid grease. He went through to a second door standing open on a narrow passageway lit by a small firemoss lantern, its hemp bail hung over a peg. To one side, a ladder climbed up a bulkhead to a closed hatch. Behind the passage’s only door, they all heard a woman’s moans and a man’s deep-throated murmurs.

“You almost feel sorry for them,” Nola whispered.

“No,” Sumahn growled, “I do not.” He kicked open the door, and then shoved Nola and Leitos ahead of him.

The three raced into a small cabin basking in the radiance of a half dozen firemoss lanterns. Leitos noticed odd details in the rush. The scent of burning incense; a wardrobe dominating one wall, its door open, the shelves spilling stained clothing to the floor; a large bed inset from the rest from the cabin, and upon it a scarred woman straddling an equally scarred man, both oiled with perspiration.

“The woman first!” Sumahn roared.

Where shock had first marked the faces of the two lovers, now outrage contorted their features. All became a blurring, screaming frenzy.

The woman, Tessa, came off the man as if thrown, and landed before her attackers. Naked she stood, but no less prepared to deliver death than if she had been fully clothed.

Leitos did not see her take up her sword, but he felt the air stir as the tip of it flashed under his nose. He dropped to his knees when she reversed her swing, narrowly missing having his head lopped off. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her legs. A small rock-hard fist crashed into the nape of his neck, and enraged curses blistered his ears. When Nola came to his aid, Tessa danced back and kicked him in the face.

Leitos sprawled on his belly, dazedly wondering how everything had gone so wrong so fast. His next thought was for the blade he sensed falling toward the back of his skull. He rolled. Instead of a sword chopping into the deck, Tessa’s bare feet flashed by, her maniacal screams driving back Nola and Sumahan every bit as much as her slashing blade.

Before Leitos could gather his wits, powerful fingers tangled in his hair and jerked him to his feet. Leering gray eyes filled his vision, then a fist cracked against his ribs. The next blow landed against his jaw. Stunned, Leitos careened off the wardrobe, and fell to his backside under an avalanche of clothing.

Tessa’s lover, Boval, came on, his glare as confident as it was furious, the muscles of his lean body hard as stone. Leitos fished for his dagger under a pair of soiled breeches.