Storms of Destiny (18 page)

After pissing discreetly off the stern, into the glassy smooth water, he headed forward. Regen was standing on the other side of the ship, speaking with the first mate. He glanced around at the gently rolling sea and saw, to the east, the humped silhouette of an island. Turning further south, he made out another. He hurried across the deck toward Regen, only to have the older man peremptorily wave him away.

For a moment Eregard was taken aback by this temerity on the part of his servant, but after a second he stepped back.

Stay in your role,
he reminded himself.

Finally, Regen turned away from his talk with the first mate and headed toward Eregard. The Prince noted the lines of strain and worry on the manservant’s face, and took a deep breath. “What chances, Master Regen?” he asked.

“They have determined our position, and it is as I feared last night,” Regen said grimly. “We have been driven off course to the Karithe Islands. We are putting on all possible sail to try and get free before we are sighted by those cutthroats.”

Eregard stood staring at the distant islands. “If we can see them, they can see us, is that what you’re saying?” he asked, forcing the words past a sudden tightening of his throat.

Regen nodded. “It is possible. After such a tempest, the pirate strongholds will certainly have their lookouts stationed in high places, scanning the sea for any unlucky vessels such as ours. But …” He glanced west, then south. “We are, after all, a deal smaller than the islands. A ship is an easy thing to miss, and we are far away. It may be we can—”

“Ahoy, look to the sou’east!” The shout interrupted him.

“A signal!”

Eregard and Regen ran over to the opposite rail and stared at the island. A plume of smoke was rising into the clear morning sky, dark and foreboding.

Regen groaned something that might have been a curse or a prayer. “The saints shield us,” he muttered. “It’s a pirate lookout, sure enough. And, look!” He pointed to a plume of thick, rising smoke. “They’ve spotted us!”

Eregard stared at the pirate smoke signal, unable to move.

His heart seemed to be trying to hammer its way clean out of his chest, so wildly was it beating.

Captain Farlon was shouting for more sail. Barefoot sailors raced around the deck, hastily moving the barrels of cargo lashed to the deck down to the main hold. Two teams of gunners were preparing the six small cannon with small-shot. Eregard stood gaping until Regen grabbed him and jerked him bodily out of the way of a sailor who was dis-pensing cutlasses and pistols from the ship’s arms locker.

“They’re quick, they are,” Regen muttered, pointing in the direction of the nearest island. Eregard squinted, and finally could make out two ships—sloops, from the look of them— sailing swiftly in their direction.

The two men stood watching tensely as the ships inexorably gained on the heavy-laden merchant vessel. Now Eregard could see the flag the foremost ship was flying, a bloody hand gripping a dagger that was driven through a grinning skull.

“Th-They’re gaining on us,” Eregard stammered. “Regen, at this rate they’ll catch us!”

“Aye, lad, they will,” the ex-soldier said, staring at the ships.

Eregard fought for breath. Panic coursed through his veins.

“If we can’t outrun them, surely we can outfight them!”

“They each have twice as many guns as we do, lad. If Captain Farlon values the lives of his crew, he’ll do well to surrender.”

Eregard shook his head violently. “Surrender? Regen, you can’t be serious!”

“Oh, but I am, Your Highness,” the manservant said. “Pirates ply their trade mostly for coin of the realm. They don’t want to damage a valuable ship like the
Lass
in the taking of her. They’d much rather have a nice, peaceful surrender.”

Eregard stared at the pirate vessels, stunned.
This can’t be
happening! What shall I do?

Regen turned his head. “Your Highness, allow me to tell them your true identity. They will hold us for ransom then, rather than impressing us or selling us for slaves.”

Eregard’s fists clenched. “No! Regen, I order you to hold silent, even if they kill me!”

“But, Your—”

The Prince grabbed the man’s arm, shook it fiercely. “Listen to me! Reveal my true identity, and they’ll sell me to the Redai, Kerezau! He’ll use me as a pawn to make my father grant him concessions! No, I
order
you, on pain of death— hold silent!”

The man bowed his head. “Very well, I obey you, Your Highness.”

Eregard swung back around. “Besides,” he said tightly, “we may yet escape. We have picked up a good, strong breeze.”

“Their ships are lighter, and built to cleave the waves like dolphins, Your—” He broke off at Eregard’s warning glare.

Just then one of the ship’s officers came running past. He stopped suddenly and wheeled on them. “You passengers, get below! Now!”

Regen gestured toward five of the male passengers, able-bodied men who by their dress and bearing were once soldiers. They had been issued pistols and cutlasses. “I am a fighting man,” he said. “Give me weapons.”

The officer gazed at him skeptically. “Grandsire, get below. No matter what you were, you are too old to be of aid now.”

Regen stiffened with indignation, and Eregard could see that the old servant was about to refuse. He grabbed his sleeve and urged, “Come, Master. We should do as he says.”

Regen allowed himself to be led away, though he was muttering something about, “They’ve but to give me a cutlass, and I’ll show these lads how a man fights on heaving decks …”

Once below, Eregard headed for their cabin. When they reached there, Regen quickly grabbed up their few valuables and gold coins, placing them in his pouch. “And now, my Prince, we head for the cargo hold,” he said.

Eregard started to ask why, but realized that it was the logical place to attempt to hide. “We’ll hide there?”

“Until we know what’s happened,” Regen agreed as they hustled down the narrow walkways. “But if the pirates catch us, there will be no place aboard they won’t look for loot. Once we hear them coming, we might as well give ourselves up.”

When they reached the main hold, they found many of the other passengers. Some were huddled against the barrels and bales of cargo, others, when they recognized Eregard and Regen, popped up out of concealment.

Eregard left Regen talking to several of the other passengers and began investigating the piles of cargo. He began to see that his hope of concealing themselves so they wouldn’t be discovered was unlikely. But what else could they do?

If Adranan were here, he’d go up on deck, fight them to
the last vile cutthroat,
he thought bitterly, wishing he’d paid more attention to his fencing masters. He knew that Regen carried a small pistol concealed beneath the folds of his loose tunic and overjerkin, but what good was one pistol?

Eregard was slightly better with a gun than he was with a sword, but that wasn’t saying much.

Finally he located a small cubbyhole beneath a large bale of Pelanese silk, barely large enough to contain both him and his manservant, lying close together.

He beckoned to Regen, and the man came over, glanced down, and nodded. They went back to the other passengers, who were milling around, talking in tense whispers. The only other sound was the groaning of the timbers and the rudders. The light was dim in the hold—only a wan illumination from a few shafts of sunlight filtering down through the cargo hatches. The hold was below the waterline, so there were no portholes.

Time seemed to crawl as they waited.
Blow, wind!
Eregard silently prayed.
Goddess, help us, lend thy breath to the
wind! Save us!

They heard the sounds of running feet from above, then muffled shouts, followed by three sharp
booms!
one after another. The
Lass
lurched to port, then settled back. “We’ve fired,” Regen reported, looking up. “Fired the three portside carriage guns.”

“That didn’t sound like any cannon I ever heard,” Eregard said.

“These aren’t big guns, lad,” Regen said. “Four-to six-pounders, no more. Not like your father’s great guns.” He hesitated. “It’s not good if they’re within firing range.”

Eregard could smell the rank smoke from the burnt gunpowder now.
Goddess, help us!

“Should we go and fight?” asked one of the passengers, a middle-aged tailor who was traveling with his wife and young daughter.

“Not unless you know how to handle a sword or a pistol, and have one to hand,” Regen said. “You’ll just get in the way and get some honest sailor killed, most likely.”

Moments later they heard the distant sounds of the other ship firing on them. Regen listened intently. “Man-killing shot,” he reported calmly. “They don’t want to damage their prize.”

“Prize?” quavered Dame Alendar.

“This vessel.”

Above them they heard more running feet, and someone in the distance was screaming, a shrill, high-pitched sound that did not stop for many minutes.

The
Lass
fired again, and again, and again.

Both pirate ships returned fire. The ship was lurching now, the groaning of the rudders louder than ever as she tried vainly to maneuver out of the way of the pursuing vessels.

The stench of gunpowder filled the hold, and small leaks had started up where the grapeshot had pierced the hull.

Eregard listened to the dripping water, smelled the rank smoke, and realized his hands were shaking uncontrollably.

He gripped the edge of a cargo barrel until his knuckles whitened.

More firing … more screams from above.

Loud booms, much closer …

And then they heard a prolonged
crack
, and moments later a loud thud. The entire ship shuddered. “Goddess, that’s done it,” Regen muttered. “That was the mainmast, if I’m any judge.”

“You mean we can’t run anymore.”

The older man nodded. “Right, Your Highness.”

Eregard glanced around quickly, but none of the other passengers had noticed Regen’s slip. The pale, terrified men, women, and children huddled together, clinging close for comfort.

“Time to hide, lad,” Regen said. “Any time now they’ll be grappling alongside.”

Eregard nodded, and showed Regen their place of concealment. “It’s possible Captain Farlon will be able t’fend ’em off, even now,” Regen murmured. “Possible …”

Eregard wriggled into the little cubbyhole, then moved over to give Regen as much room as possible. “Possible …”

he repeated. “But not likely?”

Regen grunted as he wriggled into place. “Clever lad.”

“Wasn’t hard to figure,” Eregard said, trying not to tremble. He didn’t want Regen to feel him shivering. Panic whimpered and gibbered at the edges of his mind, and he bit his lip, forcing himself to remain silent.

Minutes went by, then came a fusillade of pistol shots and more screaming—followed by a thud. The
Lass
lurched again. But there had been no sound of cannon fire. Eregard glanced at Regen. By now his eyes were accustomed to the dimness, so he could make out his manservant’s face.

“They’ve grappled alongside us,” the older man whispered.

With howls the passengers could hear all the way down in the hold, the pirates boarded the ship. They were shouting something, some battle cry. “What are they saying?”

Regen hid his face in his hands. “No quarter,” he groaned.

“Captain Farlon angered them, fighting back. They’ll kill the crew if they resist.”

And, from the sounds of the firing and screaming, the crew of the
Lass
were putting up a good fight.

Eregard lay there, terror gnawing at him, trying to convince himself this wasn’t happening, that it was some nightmare he’d awaken from at any moment. Part of him wanted to run, but he forced himself to lie there silently. Beside him, he could feel Regen, his body stiff with frustration and the eagerness to join the fray.
But he won’t leave me,
Eregard thought.
His duty is to me, and he’ll stay with me.

Finally, after what seemed hours but was probably only minutes, the sounds from the deck changed yet again— instead of battle cries and the ringing sounds of steel and firing of pistols, there were shouts of triumph. Some of the wounded were still screaming, but one by one those screams ceased.

Regen’s face was naught but a chalky oval in the dimness.

“They’ve won,” he whispered bleakly.

Despite Eregard’s efforts to steel himself for anything, the Prince felt as though someone had driven a mailed fist into his gut. He gasped, and gulped, and, for a minute or so, could not gain enough air to speak. Finally he forced himself to take deep breaths. “What now?”

Regen put his finger to his lips and pulled himself as far back into their cubby as he could. Eregard, hearing the sounds of bare feet descending the ladders to the lower decks, did likewise.

For several minutes they could hear the crashing sounds of the pirates looting the several small passenger cabins and the crew quarters, then the cry went up. “Passengers! Where are the passengers?”

“Don’t hide from us, you’re part of the prize!” another attacker shouted.