The Mosque Hill Fortune (The Sons of Masguard, Book One)

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

“It’s too far out, sir.” Trimble tested the bow in her hand. “There’s no way I can make the shot from this distance.”

Marshall eyed the single barrel floating in the center of the bay, a marker for those that bobbed out of sight, just beneath the surface. Strong swimmers, he and McKinley had made quick work of the trap, binding half a dozen powder casks in a net, secured to the bottom of the bay with a release line. When the enemy ship entered the bay, they would pull the line, releasing the casks, and Trimble would fire a flaming arrow into the dry tinder of the marker barrel, igniting it. The resulting blast would cripple the Kathkan warship without the Albatross ever even having to engage.

At least, that was the plan.

“Well, you’re going to have to try,” the Marauder insisted from the cover of the rocks.

Trimble shook her head, “Maybe from the shoreline—”

McKinley interrupted with a scoff. “They’re Kathkan. Don’t you think they’ll see the potential for an ambush in a place like this? Even if they don’t, their weapons will still be primed and ready. They always are.They’ll open fire the second you show your face. If you want to take your chances against a bevy of canons, knock yourself out. But I think I’ll stay hidden, thank you very much.”

The marten sighed, exasperated. “It’s your call, sir,” she said to Captain Marshall. “The Vendetta will be rounding the corner any minute.”

Marshall stepped nearer to the shore, judging the distance and the openness of the coast. They were both right. Trimble couldn’t make the shot, not from cover. And she’d likely not survive an attempt to do it from the shore. He turned back to those assembled in the rocks. When his eyes settled on Father Faiz, the cleric fox came obediently to his side, without needing to be asked.

“Father,” Marshall kept his tone low. “Ryder is the only member of my crew accurate enough to light the fuse from this range. We could use your help.”

“I wish I could help you, Captain.” Faiz inhaled his honest regret. “But I swore an oath against violence. Using any instrument of death is strictly forbidden.”

“You were a warrior, once,” Marshall reminded.

Faiz nodded, then met the captain’s eyes meaningfully. “As were you,” he said before returning to his place in the rocks.

The captain watched him leave, issuing a tight-lipped sigh and shifting his gaze to McKinley. The reason Marshall hadn’t wanted to take the shot himself was standing right there, shaking his head at Trimble’s willingness to put herself in danger for the sake of the mission. The line would not be easy to pull. Even with Faiz’s assistance, it would require the strength of everyone present to release the barrels from the net. If Marshall stepped away to light the fuse, his place could only be filled by McKinley.

And if the Marauder didn’t pull his weight, the Albatross would be forced into a fight.

Without its captain.

“McKinley,” Marshall said decisively. “Fill in while I take the shot.”

The Marauder turned from Trimble with a surprised smirk. “Honestly? Me?”

“Yes, you. Can I trust you to do the job?”

“I don’t know,” McKinley smiled, clearly enjoying his position as a potential liability. “Can you?”

Marshall frowned as a shadow emerged from the mist and entered the bay. They didn’t have time to argue. “On the line, Marauder.”

To his amazement, McKinley complied, albeit with a roll of his eyes.