Reyr the Gold (Dragonwall Series # 2)

Chapter 18 - Sails Aflame

Dragonfire Sea

Captain Bennett was called from his slumber by a loud trumpet blast. Another sounded immediately thereafter. At the third, he hoisted his lanky frame from his cot and reached for his pants, scrambling to do up the ties.

One blast meant land lay ahead. Two signaled the approach of another ship. Three calls of the trumpet meant only one thing—"Pirates, Captain Bennett! Pirates!" His cabin boy shouted through the locked door, banging his fist upon it.

"Gods above!" he roared as he pulled on his boots and fastened his belt, which contained his sword and other personal items.

Beaky squawked sleepily from her perch, protesting against the interruption to her sleep. The damn bird slept too much. "Let's go, ya bleary-eyed bird." He tapped his shoulder and Beaky gave another protest before spreading her wings and flapping into position. She was getting old, as was he. Birds like her lived for several ten-score years. He was a young lad when he found her in the Southlands, on the islands of the Great Delta. She was only a hatchling then and had since become his companion. At times, she was a downright nuisance. It didn't help that she picked up far too many words. When she began mouthing off, the name Beaky stuck.

With Beaky on his shoulder, he rushed to the deck. His first mate met him immediately, ready with an update, "Two pirate ships, Captain. George spotted 'em from the nest. They came upon us quick. Lorchas they be, from the looks of it, and fast ones at that."

"Pirates! Pirates!" Beaky repeated in her high-pitched voice.

His first mate led him to the poop, talking all the while. "The wind be in our favor, Captain Bennett, but with sails let, we're maxed out at six knots. These pirates though, these are doing eight at least." His first mate handed over the spyglass.

Taking the scope, he held it to his eye and had a good, long look. There were indeed two lorchas, the pirate ship of choice in these parts. Lorchas were speedy by nature, depending on the cargo they carried. In this instance, his own cargo greatly weighed down his vessel. His ship, the Lady Faith, was one of the fastest in the merchant fleet. Unfortunately, Lady Faith's precious goods weren't doing them any favors. "Sink me! It's too soon for this!"

"Sink me! Sink me! Sink me!"

"Quiet, Beaky!" He gave Beaky's head a pat and returned the spyglass. "There is no escaping them, Jonah. If they get close enough to use their rams, our voyage will be at an end. That being said, if they are after us for our cargo, they would not dare sink us. No...they'll want to board us and kill every last man. Then they gain a ship and her cargo."

Jonah shook his head in disbelief. "Perhaps we can use the oars to outrun them? Perhaps we might make it to the nearest port?"

"No, that's doubtful. At their speed, they will run us down long before that."

They had been at sea a mere six days since departing Port Ice. Bennett knew there would be problems on the journey back to Kastali Dun, but he hadn't anticipated them this early. He swore under his breath. One of the damned Dwargs must have let it slip; that was concerning. Like it or not, disaster was upon them. Fortunately, he had a keen mind for this sort of thing.

"Jonah, we must prepare for the worst." His voice was solemn.

"Prepare for the worst. Prepare for the worst," Beaky began to chant. They both ignored her.

"I agree. What'll ya have me do?" Jonah rolled up the sleeves of his tunic.

"Send the row-men below deck to their stations—arm 'em first, mind you, for the worst."