But now, if he managed to get back to Imperial territory, he would have to stop there first to inform the local governor that Asima had been taken by pirates. Even though the governor knew little of her and probably cared less, the news would not likely be welcome.
Sighing, he turned to the sailors under his command.
“Alright, men. We’ve no ship and we’re refugees in foreign waters right now, but remember that you’re men of the Imperial navy, and the Pelasians are now our allies. When we land, you will treat anyone you should meet with respect and we will maintain military order. Once we reach the shore, beach the boats, carry all the goods we have ashore and make an equipment store. I want two foraging parties to search out fruit, game and fresh water.“
He straightened, the familiar mode of speech of a captain in command returning to him.
“Everyone else needs to set up camp just back from the beach. We’ll need to gather wood and get a fire going, and construct some sort of shelter. We may be there a few days before we can move on.”
He cast his eyes across the crew, wishing Samir had left them a few weapons.
“As soon as we’ve landed I will take a small party with me along the coast until we find the nearest village, and try to negotiate passage toward the mainland. Is that all clear?”
There was a low murmur among the crew.
“Did I hear something?” Ghassan barked. “Are my orders clear?”
Silence reigned.
Ghassan glowered at the men in his boat.
“Does anyone have something to say?”
The was a pregnant pause, and then a burly man squared his shoulders. Ghassan eyed him thoughtfully. Caro, his name; an oarsman who had been on that bank of oars that Samir’s artillery had targeted. While there were no marks on him, he had likely been sat in the centre of hell this morning as men burned and were smashed to pieces around him.
Ghassan was surprised that he hadn’t seen this coming, but then he’d had rather a lot on his mind. There was a word for this in the navy.
“Mutiny, mister Caro? Is that it?”
“You c’n call it that sir, if you want. But the way I look at it, we’ve no ship and we ain’t in Imperial waters. I ain’t in the mood to take orders, right now, see sir? And I don’t think many of the lads are neither.”
Ghassan nodded.
“So what’s this to be? A direct takeover? Will you be the new captain or is this to be a democracy? If the former, I hope you have your plans ready.”
Caro growled.
“’S not funny, cap’n. As of now we ain’t navy no more. No one’ll hurt you, long as you sit there quietly and don’t get in the way.”
Ghassan gazed levelly at the man. He was an oarsman, not a marine; burly and big but not trained to fight. Ghassan, on the other hand, had had more than his share of brawls.
“It doesn’t matter whether we’re floating on a tray in the underworld, you’re still a sailor in the Imperial navy, Caro. Sit back, grab the oar and get ready to row and I’ll forget I ever heard the word mutiny.”
Ghassan almost laughed as the other twenty or so occupants of the large boat shuffled backwards as much as possible to be out of the way of this potential clash. There was precious little room to stretch in here, and yet somehow they managed to open a clear passage between the two men. Duty brought responsibility… and one responsibility was to keep the crew together and under the chain of command.
Caro leaned forward and cracked his knuckles.
“Don’t push it, cap’n. We don’t wanna hurt you. Just sit quiet and relax.”
Ghassan straightened.
“Very well, Mister Caro. I hereby officially charge you with attempted mutiny and have no choice but to bring you before the authorities on our return, if you survive that long.”
The oarsman rumbled deep in his throat.
“I ought to…”
Ghassan cut him off with a shout.
“You ought to what, mister Caro?”
He nodded inwardly as he watched the man reach down to one of the supply crates wallowing in the bottom of the boat. Predictably, Caro wrenched at the crate’s lid and tore a short length of wood from it, gripping it tight enough that his knuckles whitened.
Ghassan treated him to a smile. This was a critical moment. To lose now was to lose everything, but to win in the wrong way would be to cause anger and resentment and to invite further challenges. He sized the man up. Caro was big and strong, and any blow by the man would hurt tremendously, but would be wild and fuelled by frustration and anger. Ghassan had the luxury of already knowing what he needed to do and how to bring that about. He smiled as he looked at the man’s face, those dark eyes glowering under a heavy brow. The oarsman’s hair was short, as was his beard, but one eyebrow ran along the ridge above his nose… a nice, straight nose.
He hated to lose people, but better one than all.
“Why’re you smilin’?” the man asked uncertainly.
“Because I know something that I believe you do not, mister Caro. And because of that, I give you one free shot. Make it count, as, if you can put me down with that shot, the crew is yours.”
As he finished speaking, he shuffled forward into the space between the crew and held his arms out level from his shoulders. Caro stared at him.
“Changed your mind, sailor?” Ghassan asked lightly.
The man flared for a moment and launched his attack, just as Ghassan had hoped. He had goaded the man into wasting his opportunity. The blow was heavy, as Caro swung the plank, angling the makeshift weapon so that it landed with the edge rather than the flat. Ghassan felt bones break: probably two ribs, but maybe even three. This had better settle things, as he’d be in a bad state to deal with anyone else afterwards.
He collapsed to the bottom of the boat, hurled to one side by the force, the wind knocked from him. Caro had stood and, as Ghassan pulled himself back from the floor, he realised how stupid the man must be to get to his feet in a rowing boat. Indeed, he’d just made Ghassan’s job harder. If he did this wrong now, the sailor would end up in the water, swimming around and waiting to come back for the next shot.
Slowly, he pulled himself upright, grunting at the excruciating pain in his side. Caro was grinning at him.
“C’mon cap’n. Stay down so I don’t have to really hurt you.”
Still grunting and with heaving breaths, Ghassan stood straight. If Caro stood, he would have to as well.
“My turn”, the captain said, flexing his fingers.
Caro gave a deep belly laugh.
“Come on then, cap’n. I’ll give you a freebie too, but then I’s gonna have to put you down hard.”
Ghassan nodded as the sailor mimicked his earlier stance, arms held out to the sides.
“Fair enough.”
There were certain things he’d learned from his uncle, but they involved fighting like a soldier, with weapons and there were others that he’d picked up when he headed a boarding party. Then there were a few things he’d learned when still a boy on board, serving in whatever lowly position was required. In those days, he’d been careful to pick up anything anyone would teach him. And throughout his life, he had come to the inescapable conclusion that strength and endurance were no match for planning and accuracy.
With a lightning-quick blow like the attack of a coiled snake, Ghassan lunged out with his right arm, palm open and fingers up as he straightened the limb into the blow. The heel of his hand connected with Caro at the upper lip and carried through, driving the mutineer’s nose bone deep into his brain and exploding the man’s face in a shower of blood.
Ignoring the shocked silence that fell around him, Ghassan stared into the surprised and suddenly lifeless eyes of his opponent and then reached out and grasped him by the shoulder before he fell overboard. Gently, in the stunned quiet, he lowered the body to the seat once more and left him to loll there, flopping to the left to end up draped across a horrified sailor.
“He’ll need a proper burial when we beach, so I’ll also need a burial party. Am I clear?”
The chorus of affirmative voices brought a wave of relief to the captain and he sat heavily in the bow once
