Fathomless Fortunes [slash]

Chapter 5 - Siren's Call

"All hands on deck! We're under attack! All hands on deck!"

The sudden cry and the ringing of the ship's bell threw Nicolas out of an uneasy sleep. For a moment, he blinked into the darkness and thought himself back aboard the Valiance, in his old hammock. But this hammock was new and stiff, and the ceiling of the deck he was located on was much lower.

A sudden shaking of the ship was enough to wake him up fully. Nicolas rolled out of his hammock with practiced ease, quickly pulled on his boots and grabbed his weapons. He had controlled his pistol the evening before, and it was loaded and ready. In close combat, it was only useful for one, well-aimed shot, because there would be no time to reload it during a fight. So he had to make that shot count - if he decided to fire it. While running toward the ladder, bumping into some other grumbling, slowly-waking fighters in their hammocks, Nicolas girded his sword belt. His trusted saber, a grudging parting gift from his father, was a reassuring weight at his hip. Since the Cygnia had departed from Calez two days ago, Nicolas had awaited this moment. He had slept in his clothes and with one eye open, ready for the fray.

He climbed up the ladder to the upper deck and looked around. It was barely dawn, the sky a misty gray. The morning watch crew stumbled around in confusion. Another shudder ran through the ship, and Nicolas lost his balance for a second. He saw Captain March behind the steering wheel, grimly trying to turn it. Something seemed to block it.

Nicolas couldn't see any enemy vessel yet, but the fog outside the ship was too thick to see further beyond about ten yards. Since there was no imminent fight, his mission was clear. Nicolas ran toward the wheel, grabbing the other side of it to aid Captain March.The wood felt like with was made of stone.

"Those damn bastards must have hit the helm!" March snarled. "Pull, man, or we are lost!"
Nicolas threw his whole weight into it, and the helm started to react at last. The Cygnia moved slugglishly, although Nicolas had known her for an extremely fast and maneuverable ship during the last days.

"Get the cannons ready!" Captain March shouted. "We have to show them we're not completely helpless!"

But Nicolas knew that it would be useless. There was no specialized gunner crew aboard, so it would take minutes to load the handful of cannons. And where should they aim?
"There they are! Fire!"

Nicolas turned around at the shout. Slowly, the shadow of another vessel became visible on starboard. It appeared in ghostly silence, its gray bow spearing through the veil of mist as if entering this world from a different realm of existence. The figurehead, a mermaid holding a tricorn in front of her as if ready to attack, was so perfectly crafted that she seemed to start moving at any minute. She was painted gray as well, just her eyes were pools of darkness. For a second, Nicolas felt as if she was looking right at him, pulling him down into her fathomless depths with her gaze. Atop the ship's foremast, a black flag was lazily moving in the slight breeze. Its sight burned itself into Nicolas' eyes: a red scull with an eyepatch on its left eye, crossed sabers behind it. The scull's mouth was open in triumphant laughter.

"Fire! Fire!"

Captain March's desperate orders were followed after what seemed an eternity, and three cannons were shot. But their aim was so off that the cannonballs flew right into the open water. Although the attacking ship was almost on top of the Cygnia, the sailors had been incapable of hitting.

Just before the bow of the pirate ship was about to spear through the Cygnia's shrouds, it heaved to and came completely alongside. Nicolas could now see the ship's name, although he had known it the moment the gray hull and the figurehead had been visible. It was the dreaded Siren's Call.

"We're getting boarded! All hands on deck and fight!"

But the captain's orders went unheard in the following chaos. All the sailors who had been running around in panic before, were how fleeing below. The other ten men who were solely hired as fighters, like Nicolas, had finally woken up and made their way on deck. at least their faces showed resolve as they drew their various weapons.