Whill of Agora

“But broad cliffs line those shores for miles. Our only option is to fight.” Whill looked at the ship upon the horizon, already growing larger. “What if we just give them the diamonds? That’s what they want.”

“Pirates have a code, as you know: leave no man alive whom you have wronged. They will take what they want and kill us without hesitation.”

“Then what chance do we stand?”

Abram smiled at him. “None but hope, my friend. Hope that our path is not destined to end here. That is all we have.”

Whill was not encouraged by Abram’s speech. “We should start tossing everything we don’t need!”

“That will give us a little more speed and a little more time, but that is all. Let us prepare for battle.” Abram loaded his quiver with arrows. Whill went below and donned his armor from the tournament. He also grabbed the armor he had bought for Abram and brought it up to the deck.

“I was going to give this to you yesterday but we left in such a hurry I didn’t have a chance.” He held out the bag.

Abram took the contents out of the bag and marveled at the silver armor. He gave Whill a one-armed hug and pat on the back. “Thank you, Whill. Not only is this a wonderful gift, but it will also come in very handy very soon.”

The hours passed and the ship gained steadily on them. Soon it was not more than a half-mile away. Whill could tell at that distance that it was a black ship with all-black sails but for a large white dragon symbol at the center of each.

“That can’t be,” he said in astonishment.

“I’m afraid it is. The Black Dragon.”

Whill knew of the Black Dragon, as did most people living in Agora. It was the ship of the notorious pirate Captain Cirrosa, who had been a captain for the Arden navy. His last mission had been as a guide for a merchant ship sailing from the port city of Hentaro, destined for Fendale. The cargo he had been ordered to protect was a wealth of diamonds and jewels, over twenty chests. After sailing from Hentaro, neither his nor the merchant vessel were seen again. It was rumored that the ships were lost to a great storm, or destroyed by dragons. But when a black vessel identical to the Black Dragon was reported to have been plundering ships, it became clear to the king and people of Arden that it was indeed Captain Cirrosa and his crew. Since then Cirrosa had become the most feared and wanted pirate to sail the great oceans of Agora.

Abram scowled at the approaching ship. “We have but one advantage: the element of surprise.”

Whill knew exactly what Abram had in mind and he quickly went to work. From one of his bags he retrieved a length of bandage cloth. He tore it into long, thin strips and wound them around the end of his arrows. Next he dismantled a lantern, opening it at the basin so that he could dip his arrows into the oil. He and Abram quickly converted ten arrows in this manner. Finally Abram lit a torch and they were ready for their surprise attack, feeble though it might be.

The Dragon seemed to Whill to be about two hundred yards away. He nodded to Abram, gesturing for him to light his arrow. With the tip of his arrow ablaze, Whill steadily pulled back on the bow as he aimed at a point high in the sky. Bringing the bowstring all the way back until the feather of the arrow touched his cheek, Whill fired. The blazing arrow flew high into the sky in a large arch, straightened out, and began its descent upon the ship. The arrow missed its target; instead of hitting the sails, it landed on the deck of the vessel. Whill and Abram could hear someone cursing and screaming obscenities and assumed it was Captain Cirrosa ordering his men to put out the small blaze. As the first arrow hit, Whill was ready with another. Abram lit this one in the same fashion and Whill recalculated his shot. The second arrow took flight in the same manner as the first, but this one found its target. It hit the closest sail in a small burst of flames, which quickly began to spread. Men swung from ropes, trying to douse the flames with buckets of water. The captain’s barked orders became more urgent now, and Whill heard him yelling, “Drop sail, you useless fish turds, drop sail!”

Before the crew of the Dragon could comply, Whill shot another arrow at the same sail, this time hitting it higher than before. He followed with two more arrows aimed at the deck of the ship. The Dragon was now less than one hundred yards from their boat, and Whill could see that a small group of archers was preparing to fire upon them. He let loose another arrow, aiming this time at the archers. The men saw it coming and ducked out of the way as the arrow stuck in the mainmast, spraying liquid fire on the surrounding ship and men. As the arrow hit, the archers surfaced again and shot a barrage of twelve arrows at Whill and Abram. Whill yelled, “Get down!” and ducked in the stern as the arrows struck the deck and water.

Not daring to peek over the side of the ship, Whill watched as Abram abandoned the torch and went for his own bow, which lay beside him. He readied an arrow and began to say, “All right, when they get-” but his words were interrupted by a deafening crash as the Black Dragon rammed them at the starboard rear. Though they were huddled close to stern, Whill and Abram were now smashed hard against it from the great force of the collision. As they recovered from the blow, they saw the bow of the Dragon come into view. It loomed more than sixty feet over Old Charlotte and seemed ten times as broad. Abram scrambled into a shooting position, as did Whill, and as the archers came into view the pair took down two of them with simultaneous shots. Their fellow archers cursed them as they let their arrows fly. Anticipating the return fire and with no immediate cover, Abram grabbed Whill and ran for the sleeping quarters. Arrows fell right where they had been, and more followed close at Whill’s heels. Abram and Whill had instinctively notched another arrow each and took the opportunity to fire before the archers could. They stopped just long enough to get off a clear shot, and quickly closed the distance to the opening as two bodies fell to their deck from above.

Whill and Abram hurried into the doorway to the sleeping quarters and stood with their backs to the wall opposite the attacking ship. Whill stood closest to the opening. “That’s one hell of a large ship,” he said as more arrows hit the opposing wall.

Abram nodded as he readied another arrow.

Whill did the same. “There must be over a hundred men aboard.”

“Aye. And here they come.”

Whill heard what could only be large ropes hitting the deck. Abram grabbed his arm and switched places with him.

“What are you doing?”

“There’s no time to bicker.” Abram abandoned his cover, dropped to his knees, and fired three arrows in rapid succession. Whill heard three loud thuds as bodies hit the deck. Abram retreated to within the stairway once again and strung another arrow.

“There are seven ropes over the side of the Dragon and men are filing down one after another. It appears that the captain dropped anchor on the approach, because they are almost completely stopped next to us.” Abram laughed. “They say that Captain Cirrosa can stop his ship on a coin. Too bad they’re right.”

Whill wasn’t amused. “What do we do?”

“We can’t hide here forever. Let’s do the unexpected and meet them head on, my boy. Are you up for a good fight?”

Before Whill could answer, Abram ran out into the opening, firing arrows as he went. Whill followed suit and ran screaming onto the deck. At least twenty men were now descending upon the ship down the long ropes. Whill shot at the men highest on the ropes, hoping they would take some of their fellow seamen with them as they fell. He took up his position next to Abram as they took down two more men each with their bows. Though they were excellent bowmen, the men were too many, and soon they were on deck. Some of the attacking pirates had swords, while others brandished a long knife in each hand. Still others carried hatchets and maces. The men didn’t look anything like Whill thought pirates might. They wore rags for clothes and looked very thin, as if they hadn’t eaten for weeks. Two men charged forward and were quickly taken down by arrows, but as they fell four more charged in their place. Outnumbered and out of arrows, Whill and Abram drew swords and made a charge of their own. The men came at them with wild screams and curses, fearless in their attack.

Whill blocked a blow meant for his head and quickly brought his sword down and across the chest of his attacker. Pushing the man back into the group of pirates, he ducked as an arrow zinged past his left ear. Abram