The Key: Sails and Tide

Chapter 17: Deaths Curse

Elreals blood pumped twice harder. Several beads of sweat forced their way on his face. He was silent. It was like a pike had struck him at the center and nailed him frozen to the floor.

"Elreal!" Simon held him and looked at him intently.

"Yes." He breathed nervously.

"We've been calling you." Jerther spoke. "Who is that?"

"Death!" Elreal declared only. His comrades were frightened now. They had never seen this much dread on the young captain...not even the mad man Goor had casted this much shadow.

Jerther got the message. In a blink he dashed away, and began screaming commands. Zar and Simon remained and waited for Elreals command.

"Elreal," Zar held his shoulders. "Put yourself together, or we all would die here."

The soldiers voice managed to do something. Elreal, after several moments seemed to have gotten himself.

"Breath. Think." Simon encouraged.

He did just that!

"Arm yourselves." Elreal told, and in a dash, Zar was out of his presence.

"Come with me." Elreal dragged Simon along.

The whistle blew. The tumult was building. Elreal maneuvered through desperate moving men purposing for the wheelhouse.

"To arms! To arms!  To arms!" Zar kept on calling as the men of the Ghost crowded to the armory. This was real! Doom!

                               [][][]

Across the waters Taners stood at the fore deck with the greatest delight. Strangely the agitation on the close by ship gave him an unmatched fancy.

Two long had he waited for this. Now the punishment of that scoundrel was just an inch's way through.

"Captain." Alora broke his fantasy.

"They have sensed. They are readying to flee." She reported.

"How far can they go?" Taners laughed. "Proceed to next phase." His amusement turned to a stern.

Alora moved in a blink. Calling out few orders to the crew afterward, the ship changed its momentum.

The port side opened, and several canons drew out on either side on the ship. A band of crossbow men took to stance on the fore deck. Another group with grappling hook rolled around them, a flintlock pistol and sheathed blades readied behind them. 

The ship moved nearer the Ghost. Taners delight heightened. He could barely contain his anticipation.

Suddenly, Alora gave another quick order, and the dread was drawn the fore deck as well. Twin canons driven to the front, afforded Taners another smirk.

The men loaded the canons with the large balls. They placed their target and readied to fire. Their aim was clear. The mast! The hull!

Boom!

Elreal felt the thunder of the canon chase sanity out of him. He put himself together, hands locked to the helm, he made his move.

It was a split escape! The two shot of cannonballs lost their aim by the Ghost' sharp drift. The first into blank air. The second merely brushing slightly the rear of the Ghost. 

"Fire!" After several counts of seconds , Elreal heard Jerther's call faintly. And an exchange of shots ensued.

"Should we be fighting back. Let's allow them with the loot." Simon bristled.

"They are not here for a loot. They are here for my head." He gasped.

The Ghost' sails flapped and propelled her fast...but not away from the Black Flag. The next blow was anticipated. Jerther and the screw's effort to refute this was futile against the scarred captains ambition. This man knew exactly what he wanted.

Boom!

The blow came. Elreal cut the helm. The dribble was almost useless. He was slow. The first shot hit aft of the Ghost, scattering the ship frame into splinters and displacing men. The second ran aimlessly away from its ordained target.

The pandemonium down deck rose. The cry of men turned from defiance to terror.

Elreal watched with dread. Their assailants wouldn't refrain so quickly. They readied again. This time they were even more determined.

Now the reckoning!