The game was not yet over.
Six
Lenk felt a hammer explode against his belly.
The wind left him, the earth left him as he flew up into the air, sailing blissfully across currents carried by fast-fading screams in the distance.
The Gods proved not so kind.
He struck the timbers with a crash, sliding like a limp, breathless fish. He collided with the base of the ship’s wheel with the meagrest of bumps, giving him the opportunity to lament that the blow hadn’t killed him.
‘Khetashe,’ he gasped breathlessly, ‘that didn’t work.’
‘You thought it would?’ Argaol was quick to kneel beside the young man, helping him to a sitting position. ‘Rashodd’s twice your size if you stand up straight, boy!’
‘I thought,’ he paused to breathe, ‘I could. . strike quickly. Use size to my advantage. . gnats and frogs, right?’
‘What?’
‘Something my grandfather told me.’ Lenk rubbed his stomach, grimacing; the indentations of Rashodd’s knuckles were all too fresh in his skin. ‘The frogs are big, slow and lumbering. . the gnats are small and quick, they can escape.’
‘No gnat ever managed to beat down a frog, runt.’
‘Well, I know that
Any further conversation went silent against the sound of distant thunder, the sound of heavy boots. The timbers shook beneath them, the ship trembling with Rashodd’s stride. They glanced up as the pirate cleared the last step to the helm.
Rashodd stalked towards them with almost insulting casualness, heedless of the dead beneath his boots, the red flecking his beard, the glistening of his axes. His gaze was unreadable behind his helmet, his voice a metallic ringing.
‘It is with no undue fondness that I recall a time when this was a respectable business. It is with nostalgia that I remember when two captains could do business without bloodshed and drinks were always proffered to guests.’ He sighed. ‘Where is my drink, Argaol? Where is the courtesy extended to a man of my particular prestige? I would give you all the mercy I could spare had you merely displayed a bit of the propriety I am inarguably due.’
Using his sword as a makeshift crutch, Lenk staggered to his feet, steadying himself with the ship’s wheel.
Rashodd inclined his head respectfully. ‘You seem to be the most decent lad amongst this merry band of rabble we’ve had the pleasure to treat with.’ He hefted one of his axes over a broad shoulder. ‘I can’t say I don’t admire your — if you’ll pardon the comparison — cockroach-like tenacity. I’ve scarce known a man to display such resilience in the face of common sense.’ He lofted a great, grey brow. ‘Mercenary?’
‘Adventurer.’
‘That would explain it, wouldn’t it? I’ve no inherent disrespect for the profession, mind you, though it’s always seemed to me that an adventurer is naught more than a pirate who couldn’t bring himself to admit he’s scum.’
‘We’re all entitled to our opinions.’
‘Regardless, I feel compelled to ask you,’ he shifted his glance to Argaol, ‘both of you. . why put up such a fight? While I wouldn’t list it as a fault in polite company, are you blind, good man? Can you not see the merry company we keep?’ He gestured over his shoulder to the pale invaders, sliding up to reinforce their pirate allies. ‘Be frank with me — how many mere pirates do you know that command such beasts?’
‘I’ve met more than a few beasts in my time,’ Lenk grunted, standing as straight as he could. ‘I’m not impressed. ’
‘A pity.’ Rashodd shook his head sadly and turned to Argaol. ‘Then I appeal to your reason, good Captain. Is it too late to call for a cessation that we might converse as proper gents? Must it always come to violence?’
‘It came to violence ages ago,’ Argaol snarled, ‘when you started slaughtering my men.’
‘The merry boys of the
‘What you’re famed for is rape, murder and slavery.’
‘You do me no honour with flattery, kind sir. Nor have I the patience to continue such an argument. Simply give us what we wish and we can spare you any more tidying-up.’
Argaol regarded the man hesitantly. ‘And what, pray, is it you wish?’
‘I had come intent on taking away some cargo, but I think it a bit rude,’ the Cragsman cleared his throat, ‘given that you’ll be requiring most of your merchandise to hire on crew to replace the men you’ve so unfortunately lost.’
‘Your hacking them to pieces
‘Details. At any rate, we’ll simply search your cabins and take two of your gentle lady passengers.’ He held up a pair of fingers. ‘One of our choosing, one of yours.’
Argaol hummed; the sound was faint and distant in Lenk’s ears, slurred by the thunder pounding through his head. Even through blurring vision, however, he could see the captain’s gaze drifting upwards to the crow’s nest. Kataria and Quillian had both vanished from the mast; perhaps for the better, Lenk thought.
The captain’s thoughts were just as audible. He could see Argaol questioning himself, posing any number of logical scenarios in the tilt of his head.
Lenk clutched the hilt of his sword, unsure as to who he should turn it on once enough feeling returned to his arm to heft it.
‘As well as the priest below.’
Argaol’s neck went rigid. ‘Absolutely not! Murder is one thing, Rashodd, but I’ll not let you blaspheme this ship.’
‘Had I any manner of hat not made of iron, I would doff it in reverence of your godliness, kind sir.’ The Cragsman paused to pantomime this. ‘But I must attempt to skewer you with logic for a moment: consider the fate of your men. Resist us and the priest comes along with us, cooperate and the priest comes along with us. The only difference that remains is how big a charnel heap you’re left with.’
‘Zamanthras guides this ship,’ Argaol countered hotly, displaying the Goddess’s symbol hanging around his neck. ‘I will not risk the generosity She’s shown me by acquiescing to your logic, no matter how skewering.’ He reached for the cutlass at his hip. ‘You offer me a quick death by your own hand or a slow one by the Gods’ disfavour. I will accept
‘We aren’t giving up any woman or man, either,’ Lenk attempted to say without vomiting as the breath returned to him fiercely. ‘Heathen or faithful, adventurer or otherwise. ’ He hefted his sword and turned an icy glare upon the captain. ‘No one dies here without taking someone else with him.’
Rashodd was impassive as Lenk charged towards him, the tiny gnat levelling his tiny silver stinger against the massive, iron-clad frog. The pirate twirled an axe casually in one hand, testing its weight as he might a butchering knife in the face of a particularly choice piece of meat. As he lowered his visored stare upon Lenk’s head, he undoubtedly figured that his weapon would split a melon just as well.
The axe swung, bit only a few stray strands of silver as Lenk ducked low and thrust his blade upwards with a triumphant cackle, aiming for the small gap in his foe’s armour. Such mirth was drowned in the clamour of steel, however, as Rashodd’s second axe came up with an unfair deftness, grinding against the young man’s sword.
Undaunted, Lenk pressed the attack. The pirate might have had leverage and strength, but the young man had two hands firmly on the sword’s hilt and its tip poised tantalisingly close to the Cragsman’s intestines.
