Kingdom's Fall

Chapter 19, Part 1

The Sparrowhawk had less than a day's sailing past sight of the mainland before they caught sight of the first Islander ship. No more than a speck on the horizon, a grey-black dot that swam in and out of focus as Aiden strained to see it, it was enough to gain the captain's full attention. The crew had rallied after their battle with the demon in the water; the surviving crew of the other Kingdom ship more than made up for the men that had been killed. The repairs to the Sparrowhawk had been quick, and while morale was good there was a strong desire amongst the crew to see home again. Aiden's purse had swayed them to continuing on their mission, but there was no promising that Islanders would welcome the sight of them. Running up a white flag to the first boat they saw would be suicide by invitation; with little trade between the two nations, the most common reason for a ship to sail the waters between them was not to shake hands and make friendly. What few ports existed along the northern coast were hard held against the ravages of wind, wave, and reavers. A ship sailing alone was nothing more to the Islanders than a target.

           

That wasn't to say the target was an easy one. The Sparrowhawk had sufficient power to defend herself. Although a light ship, she ran heavy with guns, with thirty-two lined along the single deck that held them. The Islanders were faster in the water, with their shallow-draught boats and the archaic - but effective - use of rowers to provide bursts of speed, but they lacked the sheer weight of material required to arm their vessels. At sea, they relied entirely on being able to close with, board, and overpower their targets. For that fate to befall the Sparrowhawk would require much more than one ship in the assault, and the victory would be hard won, even more so should the captain find his way below to light the powder stores and scuttle her.

           

Captain Walker watched the horizon, and Aiden watched the captain.

           

"What do you think?" Aiden asked.

           

"Doesn't matter," Aradan said. He leaned over the rail and spat, his mouth settling back into a tight, sour line. "We've seen them, they've seen us. Nothing we can do but keep going."

           

"Your best guess?"

           

"They'll vanish. They might stay and watch us for an hour or two to see if we change course, but otherwise they'll run for help. If they're quick enough, we'll be waylaid by ten boats before we reach the southern Island."

           

"Will they parley with us?"

           

Aradan folded his arms, and the corners of his mouth quirked downward as he conceded the possibility. "Good question. They might, but there's no promise of it. If it was me I probably wouldn't."

           

"Why not?"

           

"Raising an alarm, dragging all the men away from their work and families, making them heave those oars all the way down to meet us - would you want to be the one to tell them that there wasn't any need for it after all?" Aiden was about to answer when he caught the man's eye and instead decided to keep his mouth shut. "No," Aradan continued, "they like to have a reason to go to all that effort. If you want to talk, we're going to have to either outrun them, or avoid them altogether."