Boom!
The ocean exploded to Cyrus’ right. His muscles grew tautwith panic. His clenched jaw ached and his nerves were frayed. How muchlonger could he go on, tied to the prow of this junk heap, being tossed aroundon the open ocean, target practice for that filthy klops, Knavish? He foughtback the urge to vomit. He half hoped the next shot would be a direct hit.
Boom!
Cyrus felt his eardrumsswell as the cannonball passed close to his head. His body surged with tensionand exhaustion. He felt something move within the collar of his furs.
“Where are we?”Edward’s shocked voice cried.
The blodbad’s wordswere slurred. Cyrus attempted to shout behind his gag. He felt Edward crawl uphis neck and around his ear. The seven-legged spider somehow unfastened the ragbinding his mouth.
“You got free,”Cyrus said, breathlessly.
“You loosened thecinch,” Edward replied, crawling over to Fibian, “It took a while, but I was ableto squeeze through the opening.”
Had that beenKnavish’s plan, Cyrus wondered? Had the klops left him Edward, hoping that togetherthe three captives would somehow frustrate General Schlaue’s pursuit? Knavish hadreleased a lion to rid himself of a rat. Cyrus would make the lieutenant pay dearlyfor that mistake.
After a moment’s effort,the tiny blodbad had Fibian’s gag off too.
“Master Edward, ourbonds,” the froskman said.
Boom!
The vessel to theirstarboard erupted in flames.
“Quickly,” Cyrus shouted,turning away from the blast.
Edward skitteredup Fibian’s body and onto the bowsprit. Moments passed.
“I can’t do it,”the snow-white spider called down, “The rope’s too thick and the knots are tootight. I need something sharp.”
“Then find somethingsharp,” Cyrus cried.
Edward retreateddown the bowsprit. Then he vanished over the ship’s railing and onto the deck.
A far-off crashthundered across the heavens. Cyrus looked southeast. There, in the distance, anangry sky roiled and brewed. The hunted hune set a course for the impending blacktempest. Electricity flickered and glowed within the storm’s bitter womb.
***
FIRSTCAME THE DARK SKIES and drivingsnow. Then the sea began to rage like a cruel drunk. Finally, thunder and lightning struckdown, piercing ship and sea alike. Cyrus and Fibianwere doomed.
Their vessel climbed mountainouswaves, cresting mighty peaks, before plummetinginto steep, churning troughs. Water repeatedly crashed over the bow, plunging Cyrus and Fibian beneath the icy sea. Cyrus shook uncontrollablywith signs of cold sickness. He was forced to time his breaths. His breathing grew more ragged and panicked with everydive. He struggled to replenish his lungs betweeneach submersion. When would this tortureend?
Edward could not help themnow, Cyrus knew. The tiny spider would be washed overboard if he tried.
Boom!
The hune continued its relentlessbarrage of cannon fire against the pursuing fleet.A smaller attack ship began to overtake Schlaue’s vessel on its starboard side.Lightning flashed from the heavens.It struck the smaller ship’s riggings. The mainmast splintered like split firewood and the wind carried off the vessel’smainsail. The ship fell dead in the water. Thecrippled craft began to veer off course, obstructing Schlaue’s vessel’s path.
“No!” Cyrus cried.
The ocean started to smash against the brokenboat’s starboard hull, rolling the vessel to port. Crashing waves washed crewmenoverboard as the listing craft began to take on water. It started to break upamidst the angry sea. Schlaue’s ship attempted to course correct, but if the helmsmantacked too hard, he risked the same fate as the sinking vessel before them.
“Brace yourself,” Fibian shouted, over thescreaming wind.
Cyrus closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.Another wall of frigid ocean crashed over the bowsprit. Both prisoners were plungedbeneath the sea.
Crack!
Underwater, the bowsprit struck something hard.Popping, splintering, grating noises filled Cyrus’ pointed ears. His bones vibratedand his teeth jolted within their sockets. They were colliding with the sinkingship. Cyrus and Fibian would be crushed!
Cyrus fought the urge to cry out. He neededall the air in his chest that he could manage. His bindings became impossiblytight, forcing all the oxygen from his lungs. He watched helplessly as preciousbreath bubbled from his lips. He felt the ropes begin to cut him in two. No! Something pierced deep into his back.He tried to scream, but his breath was spent. Then suddenly,
POP!
He was free. Something large and crusted struckhim in the side. His pierced back stiffened and seared. The large object pushedpast him like a charging bull. Cyrus bumped and grated along what could only bethe ship’s barnacled hull. The pain was too much. Cyrus began to grow dizzy. Thenthe abuse stopped, and once again he was free, drifting alone, untethered. Heopened his eyes and peered about. All was bitter and black. Cyrus’ body filledwith panic and anxiety. His stiff back stung. He needed air, but which way wasup? Cyrus kicked and clawed at the sea. His furs were the only thing sustaininghis body heat, but they were like lead weights wrapped around his bulky frame.Cyrus’ limbs grew exhausted. His thoughts began to fade. Tiny stars started toswirl in his vision, like dying fireflies.
Two glowing blue spheres appeared out ofnowhere in the murk. Cyrus sensed a strong hand grip his collar. Then he felt himselfdragged through the icy gloom. Finally, he broke the surface, gasping for air. Fibianheld him up under the armpits with his good arm.
“You have a large splinter in your back,” thefroskman said, “We must get you out of the water.”
Cyrus coughed and sputtered, sucking in the wintrynight air. His consciousness returned to him in fragments. His lungs were rawand his chest was weak. The words, “A large splinter in your back” repeated inhis groggy mind. He felt around his back for the shaft of wood, but could notreach the wound. Cold and shock began to numb the pain.
Cyrus spotted Schlaue’s ship, rising abovethem on a massive wave, leaving them in its wake. He could not assess thevessel’s total damage, but the boat was still seaworthy. He suspected that onlythe bowsprit was lost, destroyed in an underwater collision with the lightning-struckship. Schlaue would have lost several jibs, but his craft would continue on.
“Edward!” Cyrus gasped, his voice hoarse,“He’s still aboard.”
The sinking attack ship passed near. The oceanfilled with the boat’s crew.
“Master Cyrus,” Fibian replied, “quickly.”
Cyrus looked around. Another ship bore downon them.
