The Summer of the Swordsman

Chapter XXI

I wasn't so sure about Kenui's folly twenty‑four hours later. We had been cutting a swift path through the blue ocean, heading toward Arna and Garius' main fleet. The wind was moving across our bow, our sails were bulging, and the water hissed and murmured beneath our hull as we skimmed across it. Fanning out behind us were twelve more ships, among them Garius' own vessel, keeping well to the rear.

The Swordsman had pointed out the position of Garius' ship to me and had made no comment. He hadn't needed to. I thought of Melanissos high‑tailing it away from Admiral Prince Sestjan's fleet and decided that more than looks ran in a family. I turned to make a remark to Anakreon, and then stopped, frowning. Anakreon was looking toward the horizon, as was everyone else on that ship, and, indeed, on the other ships. As well they might. There was a haze on the horizon like a bright mist, flickering white against the line of earth and sea. I narrowed my eyes, trying to make it out, and in another minute I could see clearly. What I saw was enough to make me sorry I had ever eaten breakfast, and sorrier still that I had squelched that mutiny against Anakreon outside Eslu. For coming toward us was a great fleet, an armada of white‑sailed warships. And from the wail of despair I heard rising from Garius' ship, I knew they probably weren't his.

Things were happening too swiftly now. I heard another cry, this time full of anger. Garius' ship turned before the wind and moved away from us, racing northwest with the wind behind her, leaving us to wallow in the path of the Verhemese fleet.

I shouted a few curses, but in my heart I couldn't blame Garius. He owed us nothing except our pay, and he wasn't likely to be doling out pay any time soon, if the presence of the Verhemese fleet was any sort of omen. He might not even have a fleet or a treasury left.

I shook Garius from my mind, noticing Quinquius' suddenly grim expression, and turned my attention to the Verhemese armada approaching us. There was time to shout a command for our men to arm themselves, and I made certain they obeyed me. Then I watched the crescent‑shaped formation draw near, counted the ships and contrasted the numbers of the Verhemese fleet with those of ours. We were hideously outnumbered, at least four to one. And on that choppy sea.

I rested my axe on the deck before me and cursed long and low. The Swordsman was standing beside me, watching the approach of the Verhemese fleet with impassive concentration. He wore mail, but he carried no shield. "Ninety‑four," he said calmly. "If you count the smaller one‑masters it comes to one hundred and three. Hmm."

I sat down upon the deck and began to curse again. My nerves are taut before any sort of battle and I tend to snap out. "Ninety‑three!" I cried. "Hear him say it! Ninety‑three!"

"Ninety‑four," Mourner corrected.

"Oh Aghus! And is that all? And how many do we have? Thirteen? Where's the rest of Garius' fleet? And where's Garius? Gone! And who're we fighting? The Verhemese! Oh Aghus, that I ever lived to see this day!"

Mourner listened quietly to me and then said the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life. "But Oristides," he said, calm as you please, "All they can do is kill us."

Anakreon was grinning.

"All?" I roared, not caring if we were heard by the other ships. "All? Great Aghus! Strike him dead! Kill us? And is there anything worse? Have you thought HOW they'd kill us? Ghurthai of Verheim hates pirates‑‑would we be hanged, do you think? Flayed? Staked out in the sun? Crucified? ALL they can do? Ah Aghus, take him and not me! Of all the pea‑brained, fluff‑headed‑‑"

"Be still," Mourner said. "You're upsetting everyone and making a fool of yourself."

My mouth flopped open. 

Anakreon cast another glance at the Verhemese fleet and then shook his head. "Put down your arms," he said, "We have no chance against them. Our leader deserted us, and we owe him nothing now. We'll surrender." He went to the railing and cupped his hands about his mouth. He was going to ask for terms.

But he didn't see what I saw: the shimmer of thousands of steel points. They wouldn't let us surrender. They wouldn't be content to defeat us. They wished to destroy us. But Anakreon stood at the railing and cried, "We ask‑‑"

The arrows were loosed with a hiss and a whine to fall about us like a rain of steel, pattering upon the water, sprouting suddenly from our sides like the quills of a huge wooden porcupine. I saw Kenui go down with a crossbow bolt in his stomach; my men were dying all about us.

I raised my shield and my ax as Mourner crashed to the deck, an arrow through his thigh. I wasn't nervous now that I knew I was going to die. Besides, I planned to go down fighting. I hauled Mourner to shelter behind the mast and then bent my mind to the killing.