Malspire (8 page)

The lady stood upon the forecastle railing, firing down on the enemy with a pistol in each hand, not a hesitation to kill. It was obvious she knew how to use them. She was exciting, brave and ruthless. I was lost in admiration for this lady warrior. She looked up and saw me staring at her. She fleetingly smiled, then withdrew to reload. Awaking from my dream, I pointed my cutlass at the enemy below. I had to get to her. I had to save her!

“Ready lads? You four, guard the steps. Don’t let them take the aftcastle!” This was to four of the marines who were already defending the steps with shot and bayonets.

“Go now! Go forth!” I cried as I threw myself over the balustrade, grasping a rope with one hand which allowed me to swing and kick a man down before slashing at another. I was alive with the killing and slaughter. I was drunk on the power the cutlass gave me, and the romantic notion of saving a lady from these pirate scum. The fear was truly gone now. Now I was to be feared!

When I landed, I instinctively ducked and felt the wind of a mace pass over my head. Swinging round with my blade, the mace came back again and knocked the cutlass from my hand. Then a boot kicked me in the face, sending me reeling back onto the deck. The man was dressed in leather armour with a round shield and helmet. He had a thick tangled beard and long greasy hair. There was something of the Northmen in him. I could only make out a glint of crazed eyes under the shadow of the helmet but I saw his rotten teeth, as leering, the pirate moved in to kill me.

"I am the slayer!" the pirate growled with a strong Northman accent. "I am the end of your worthless life and I have seen you, little man." He struck out with the mace.

Rolling to one side, the mace just missed my head, crashing into and splintering the woodwork instead. The man stank of rancid fat and was probably covered in the stuff as protection from the cold and rain. I had to roll again to avoid another blow. Then the Northman pirate began to kick me with heavy boots. I tried to get out of the way. I tried to crawl, but the pirate just kept kicking and stomping. Each bone crushing blow sent shots of pain through my already battered body. One connected with my groin and I felt dizzy and faint with the hurt being dealt me, and prayed that it would stop. Then, when the Northman thought I was subdued, he raised the mace again.

"Die well though you have not fought well, Empire man. You'll serve me in the afterlife and be the cleaner of my arse. Prepare for the halls of my fathers!"

I was going to die. I panicked and gripped the deck, half blinded with pain and blood, but well aware of the weight of metal about to crush my skull. The drumming in my ears was deafening, the agony of my beaten body, too much. It felt like the pirate must have broken one or more of my ribs. It was then that my fingers felt something; a bit of wood? I did not know but I gripped it and threw myself forward in desperation, hoping perhaps to put the attacker off balance. I lunged and thrust the bit of wood under the shield with all the strength I could muster. Perhaps I could wind him or at least get inside of the blow. The pain of the sudden movement shot through my hurt body and made me scream. To my surprise, the item I was holding went deep into the groin of the Northman pirate with surprising ease, and the death blow the stinking pirate was mustering faltered high above my head. He looked at me in puzzlement and anger. Warm blood trickled down my arm and I pulled it back to see that I was holding a wickedly long and slender gutting knife which had a gentle curve and proved the perfect weapon to get in and under a shield. The man collapsed, groaning, dropping the mace with a heavy clatter.

Looking round, I got to my feet and had to dodge attacks from all sides. The battle was still faltering, although Jodlin now made it to my side and cleared some space for me with his cruel hammer blows. One of which finished off the Northman. Stumbling, I found my cutlass, and went at them again with cutlass in one hand and knife in the other. They proved a combination fitting to my style of fighting and I slashed at the throat of a man I had unbalanced with the larger blade. I instantly forgot my hurts and revelled again in the fight, tasting blood in my mouth. The spray of blood covered me and I had to admit, that I enjoyed the sensation of being a killer and being in command of both life and death and not just the weakling brother of a greater man for once, my near death encounter forgotten in an instant.

I looked to the Sea Huntress. Although hard pressed, no more men were committed from the Imperial and Ardalrion frigate. Their job was to protect the ship if I failed, and failing we were. There were just too many of the pirates, and they didn't care to protect their own vessel, but flooded over in full, ferocious force. Then there was the ripping crack of a musket and pistol volley, followed by the roar of a charge. The defenders on the forecastle had been given the chance to organise themselves and now joined the fray. This put new strength in my men's hearts as they re-doubled their efforts and pushed hard with steel and shot. The enemy were now being hit from three sides and some began to pull back to the pirate ship.

I saw then the man who must be the pirate captain, adorned in jewels, gold and finery, with a ridiculously thin and frail rapier and pistol. The captain stood upon the pirate's bulwark issuing orders, and egging his men on. Then he saw me, and for a moment seemed a little undecided, but then obviously thought that as the only enemy officer in the melee, I would have to do. He put his pistol away inside his coat and raised his sword to point it at me. I nodded, recognising the challenge and fought my way towards the enemy captain, as the captain did likewise towards me. The pirate captain seemed to kill with surprising ease, parrying and thrusting his blade deep into his victims. He showed the quickest of smiles when finally we met, looking down his nose at me.

“Your name?” he demanded.

“Officer Malspire Ardalrion, at your service,” I snarled, heaving in air.

The captain looked me up and down, and did not seem impressed. “Captain Charmio Yorlwig,” he then said by way of introduction. “You are Imperial Navy and yet you dress like a pig herder. I wish to fight a proper officer, where is your captain?”

The haughty bastard was already getting on my nerves. “Captain’s rutting with the cabin boy, so I’ll have to do.”

Yorlwig raised an eyebrow and again turned up his nose. I didn't know where he came from or why he thought he was so high and mighty but I wanted cut that swiving maggot down to size. “You dress like a dandy milk maid, now put up and defend yourself, you pirate worm.” I said, trying to anger the man.

My words must have cut deep, for before I could even blink, the pirate captain’s sword whipped up to cut me on the chin as though he were slapping an upstart. Captain Yorlwig then stepped back, and readied himself for the duel. I wiped the blood away, and realised that I was probably out of my depth, but what could I do? I had accepted the challenge and then added to it by insulting the man. Yorlwig smiled thinly as though he knew my thoughts, so I simply lunged at him. My only chance was to break that thin blade with my butcher’s steel and be quick about it. The pirate parried, but rather than take the weight of my blade, he turned it away, then flicked his sword round, cutting my coat, but the chain mail robbed the blade of my blood. Yorlwig looked disapprovingly at the mail, then I attacked again, and again Yorlwig parried, following up with his own attack.

Captain Yorlwig took to lunging at me, hoping to penetrate the mail, which would not be hard with such a fine point, or else swiping at my face and neck which I often had to parry with the gutting knife. With every attack, Yorlwig was getting closer to cutting me, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the pirate captain ended my life with a lightning cut and a spray of crimson blood. It was tiring work as we danced round the deck. The others were still in full fight, but mostly managing to make way for us. There was one moment when I got slammed to my back by a pair of men at each other’s throats, and the pirate captain could have easily ended things for me, but instead stepped back, offering this soul the chance to get to my feet. I did so. The arrogant fool, thought I, but was only just in time to jump aside as Yorlwig again lunged, then danced away from my clumsy hack. Yorlwig lunged again, and again I tried to smash the rapier blade, but still failed.

The deck was getting slippery with blood, and with the buffeting of bodies, and heaving of the waves. It was hard to keep one’s footing although the dandy seemed to have no trouble. I was tiring. Yorlwig was playing with me and I wheezed as I took deep lungs full of air. More blood was getting into my eyes and I wished I had nails in his boots, and I wished it would rain properly, not just this incessant drizzle. I wished I was stronger, faster and cleverer than this bastard.

In my anger, I drove forwards again, but this time slipped, my left boot sliding out in front of me. Captain Yorlwig saw his opportunity and lunged. All I could do was turn my left shoulder to the captain and the blade pierced the mail, skin, muscle, and stopped on the bone. I screamed with pain as I wrenched myself to the side, and brought my cutlass, down hard on that damned blade, shattering it into many pieces, then with my left arm now free, swung round again with the gutting knife. The pain of the broken blade’s shards scraping on bone made me scream in agony. The pirate captain stepped back, the hilt of the broken rapier still in his hand. He looked utterly disgusted. It seemed to be my appearance he could not abide, and it was true; I must have looked like a horror - wet and bloody, my hat missing so my matted hair fell before my eyes, my back bent, and my face purple and blue from being kicked and beaten.

Yorlwig stood for a second and looked as though he was going to turn away, when a long, curving line of red blood appeared across his neck. Sighing, the man looked up at the grey skies, and the cut opened wide to pour a wave of crimson blood down his fine clothing. Yorlwig was saying something. I did not know what. Perhaps some farewell to a distant loved one, or a curse on the gods for being defeated by a cripple. I would never know for Captain Yorlwig's legs gave way and he fell dead upon the deck adding his blood to the pool round my feet. I looked at the knife I had found and kissed its bloody blade for twice saving my life.

The battle lasted only a short while longer. Once the pirate captain was dead, the enemy soon lost the will to fight, and began to drop their weapons, some begging for mercy. I ignored the cries of pain and pleading, and stepped over the fallen and wounded towards the forecastle, passing the bloody but living Sudlas who grimly nodded at me. I wanted to see the woman again. I wanted to know she was unhurt, but she was nowhere to be seen. Climbing to the first tier of the forecastle I then walked straight into her and she looked me in the eyes.

“Never seen a man with such bright eyes before,” she said, then ripped some cloth from her dress for a bandage. I hated my eyes. They were not the pretty blue of my brother's but sharp, harsh, cutting, sickly in my own reflection.

She was confident, even cocky. I liked her. She had lost her pistols and was now looking after the wounded. Her dress was a mess of blood and ripped to tatters. Her left shoulder was bare and grazed.

I just watched her, so she said, “Are you an officer?”

“Yes.”

“And your name?”

“Ardalrion. Malspire Ardalrion at your service.” I bowed wincing a little.

“Of House Ardalrion?”

“Yes.”

“I am Veinara Havlon. Thank you for coming to our rescue.”

I looked around at the horrible carnage. I wanted to say that it was a pleasure but it would have been a lie. It was awful, yet exciting. A waking nightmare, yet I could not deny that I enjoyed defeating this enemy and conquering my fear. It was by far the most terrifying experience and also the most exhilarating one of my life. I could not find the words so she smiled again and said, “I would have been a prisoner, or dead, or worse if you and your crew had not arrived. They came out of nowhere.”

“Miss Havlon, you are unhurt?” I presumed she was not married and happily she did not contradict me.

“I am not, apart from a few bruises. You’ve taken quite a beating I see.”

“It's nothing,” I lied. “It looks worse than it is.”

“Would you allow me to clean those wounds?"

I hesitated. I did need attention, but was uncomfortable with the idea of her touching my deformed body.

"It is the least I can do."

"I would be honoured," I relented.

She led me to a section of the forecastle where a sail was being jury rigged as a temporary cover were some of the wounded could be seen to. After sitting down upon a crate, she took clean water from a wooden bowl and began to remove the blood from my head and face using the strip she had ripped from her dress. I wondered what had become of my hat, not knowing when or where it was lost. We did not talk for a while. I was wound up and shivering from the rush of the battle and needed to calm down. Her touch was gentle and caring. She seemed to take great pains not to hurt me. Closing my eyes, I felt instantly at ease with her closeness. It was a new experience to be touched by a woman who was simply caring for me, who wanted to heal me.

"Have you seen many battles?" she asked after a while.

"Not like this."

"You fought well."

I did not answer. I had not fought well, but did not want to contradict her.

"I saw you fighting the captain. I knew you would win the duel."

"I was lucky." I could feel her warm, sweet breath on my forehead.