listened, but heard no sound of water breaking on rocks. Raising his voice to a shout, he hailed the crow's- nest:'What sign!'The reply came back:'Nothing!'
Which was what Drake had expected. There was, after all, no rock, reef, shallow, shoal, island, cay, cliff or shore within fifty leagues of them. Drake had that on the authority of Jon Arabin, who knew these waters as well as any man alive.'What was it?' said Krane.'Sharbly we grounded a whale,' said Drake.
Then remembered saying those very same words years ago, in the Penvash Channel. On that occasion, it had been a sea serpent they had tangled with.There was another thump.
'Krane!' said Drake. 'Take the lantern and go forward. See what you can see. Zim, look over the side.''Shall I go wake the bald-headed one?' said Zim.
'Nay, man,' said Drake. 'He'll wake himself if we hit again. And if we don't, what matter?''We might be holed,' said Zim.
'Nay,' said Drake, 'not from a teeny little bump like that. Go on, get moving the pair of you.'
Grief! What if Zim was right? If they were holed, they would probably be busy till dawn.The last thing Drake wanted to do right now was to fother a hole by night.'Zim!' called Drake. 'What do you see over the side?''Something,' said Zim, uncertainly.
'What? Is it big, small, still, moving, foaming, swirling? Is it light, creamy, dark, shadowy? Do the stars reflect off it? Is it a sea serpent? A whale? A kraken?''A log.'
'Blood of the moon,' said Drake. 'A log. Likely that was what we hit. I'd say-'
He didn't say, for at that moment there came a scream fit to scar the sky.
'Zim!' said Drake. 'Get your arse here! Quick quick quick! The wheel, man! Take it, take it! Steer steady, man, or I'll string you up from the yardarm by your lower bowel. Stay tight!'
With that said, Drake raced along the deck toward the lantern. He found it, and found Krane holding it, and looking most uncertain.'What was that scream?' said Krane.
'An owl, maybe,' said Drake. 'Or perhaps one of your whore-arsed friends just birthed a baby. Come, man, let's go check. Here, give me the lantern, you'll likely drop it if you shake much more.'
Drake took the lantern. It was a good one, with the light from a big bright candle shining out through windows of horn. He stepped out smartly, with Krane trailing in his wake. Then stopped, hearing footsteps up ahead. A man was coming towards them. Drunk, if the footsteps were anything to go by. Drake, lantern in one hand, filled the other with steel, just in case.
He had just done so when into the lamplight came a man who had lost his face. Blood ran thick in his beard, dripped down his jerkin and dribbled to his boots. He staggered. Then fell forward onto the deck.
By lantern-light, Drake saw a great chunk missing from the man's back. Bone gleamed white amidst seething blood.'Drake, there's-'T see it,' said Drake.
Something was skulking in the shadows. Something not in human form. Whatever it was, it was huge.
'Slaughterhouse!' screamed Drake, which was the ship's weapon-shout.
Again he screamed, and heard others take up the cry. Another thump shook the ship. As the creature in the shadows started to advance, Drake heard Krane's feet pounding along the deck as the boy fled.'Courage, man,' said Drake to Drake.He set down the lantern then backed away from it.'Into the shadows, now,' he whispered.
And took his own counsel as the creature – the monster! – stalked toward the lantern.
The monster had a carapace roughly like that of a crab. But, unlike a crab, it had not two eyes, but many. These eyes, each deep-set in a socket, shimmered in the lantern-light, glittered with spangles of reflected fire.And Drake thought:
The creature's carapace rode high above the deck on a dozen multi-jointed legs. Mounted on top of the carapace was what looked – at first glance – like a gigantic sea anemone. A seething array of writhing tentacles, of jointed hooks and coiled whips.
Drake, mesmerized by horror, watched as one of those whips uncoiled slowly, slowly, slowiy, and drifted down toward the deck to nuzzle the lantern. Gently. The candle-flame flickered as the lantern was tilted then released.
Then – suddenly! – the whip snapped back.
And the monster muscled toward Drake. Who stood staring, staring at its avanturine orbs, its oiled legs soothing toward him.
And he thought:
The creature slashed at him with half a dozen whips at once. His sword was knocked away. Whips slammed against him like knotted ropes. He fell sprawling to the deck. He screamed. Jerked out a boot-knife. And threw it. With no effect. Tentacles darted out, whipped around his ankles, and started to haul him off the deck.
Then the monster wailed, and reared up. An arrow had pierced one of its eyes. Another shaft slammed home. The creature fled, hauling Drake behind it. He bounced over the deck, grabbing for something, anything – help me! – and finding nothing.
Then the creature stopped. Abruptly. There was a hideous graunching, crunching, thumping sound. The tentacles which had been hauling Drake relaxed.He got to his feet.
Something huge bulked against the night. It loomed over the wreckage of the dead monster. Larger than anything human. Then it spoke:
'Man,' said Whale Mike. 'You got nice choice in friends. Or this your lover, perhaps?''No,' said Drake. 'That was my mother-in-law.''Well, she not good for much now. Sorry about that.'
'That's all right,' said Drake. 'We never got on very well anyway.'
Moving stiffly, he walked back to the lantern light and recovered his sword. The lantern was burning as steadily as ever, but Drake became aware that all around was alarm, panic and chaotic confusion, as three hundred pirates roused themselves out to face danger.
Here and there, fighting was in progress. Something inhuman screamed as it died. Drake sheathed his sword. His right elbow hurt like hell. He rubbed it, which failed to improve matters. Blackwood walked from the shadows, bow in hand.'You shoot well,' said Drake.'I've had practice,' said Blackwood.
Drake listened to the noise. From the sound of it, the pirates were winning control of the ship, though there were clearly at least half a dozen monsters aboard. But something was wrong. What? Yes, that was it – the wind had died. The ship was wallowing helplessly in the regular ocean swells.
'I'd better go report to Jon Arabin,' said Drake, 'since I was on watch when the trouble started.'
He found Jon Arabin shortly. The bald-headed one was leading a hunting party of men armed with weapons and lanterns. They had cornered a strange creature which looked like a crawling net, richly strung with floats. It was as wide as a dinghy, as long as a horse, and no higher off the ground than a badger-dog. Legs, claws, feelers and tiny eyes on stalks protruded from every float.'What's this?' said Drake.
'It's a bowl of spaghetti which mated with a whore's-egg,' said Jon Arabin. 'You should be able to see that for yourself.'
Upon which Ika Thole hurled a harpoon, skewering one of the floats to the deck. The net-creature screamed like a rabid rat, thrashed madly, tore itself free, and escaped to the dark leaving part of its body behind.
Thole knelt to examine the skewered portion which remained – and a claw leaped out of it and slashed at his hand.'Pox and bitches!' he said, jumping back.
'Club it to a pulp,' said Jon Arabin, curtly. Then, to Drake: 'How did this happen?'
'There are logs in the sea,' said Drake, working more by guess than by the results of Investigation. 'The creatures were on them. We rammed the logs, they jumped aboard.'
Shortly, Jon Arabin and Drake were at the ship's side with a lantern on a rope. They lowered it until its light shone clear on the water. They saw a log afloat on the swells. On the log, three monsters, just like the one which had hauled Drake along the deck.
'Those are stalkers,' said Miphon quietly; he had come up alongside them without being noticed.
Jon Arabin walked along, illuminating a different patch of sea. Another log. Another net creature.
'That's a glarz,' said Miphon, 'that thing which looks like a portcullis made out of rope and decorated with water-melons.''The net creature?' said Drake.
'That's the one. And look, over there – two more glarz! And there's a keflo!'
'The sea is full of logs,' said Jon Arabin, hauling up the lantern. 'Have you ever heard of such a thing?'
'In the Long War,' said Miphon, 'the Skull of the Deep South launched many such armadas.'
