Corsair

and make out the voices of sailors shouting and cursing as they hurried to free the vessel from the treetops. Great branches creaked and groaned as the ship’s weight shifted. He climbed up the streambank and found himself standing at the base of a mighty tree whose trunk was easily twenty feet thick. Several other giants stood nearby; Seadrake was caught in their upper branches. He could see the damp curve of the ship’s hull suspended overhead.

“Now that’s something you don’t see everyday,” Hamil said in a low voice. “It takes some seamanship to run your ship aground sixty feet up a tree.”

“They’re freeing her fast enough,” Geran observed. It was hard to tell from the ground exactly what else was holding the ship in place, but based on the number of axe-cut branches and limbs lying near the base of the tree, the crew had already made good progress on their work. He could hear cries of “Hurry, hurry!” and “This one now- all together!” echoing down from above. Then he heard a voice he knew. Somewhere out of sight on the decks above, Sergen Hulmaster called out, “Quickly, now! The harmach’s soldiers could be on us at any moment!”

Hamil glanced at Geran. “I think that was your cousin Sergen.”

“It was,” Geran answered. He stared up at the ship and scowled in anger. He should have known that his venomous serpent of a stepcousin would have found a way to slip away from the destruction of the Black Moon Brotherhood. “I’ll be damned if I’ll let him leave us all stranded here!”

“How many men does he have with him?” Mirya asked.

Geran shrugged. They’d certainly be outnumbered, but with a little luck they’d have the advantage of surprise; the corsairs were busy with their work of cutting Seadrake out of the treetops and likely didn’t expect him and Hamil to be anywhere nearby. He turned his attention to the tree trunk and decided that it was not a difficult climb. The tree forked into thick limbs fairly close to the ground, and thick vines clung to its surface. He could pick out a path that would get them to the windows of the stern cabin or the rail of the quarterdeck with a little effort.

“You’re going up there, aren’t you?” Hamil said.

“We can’t let them have the ship,” Geran replied. “Mirya, it might be best if you and Selsha waited here.”

“I’ll thank you for your concern, but I’ve seen all of this forest I care to,” Mirya said. She held up her bow. “And I may be able to help you.”

“Out of the question. You could be hurt or killed. Sergen and his corsairs won’t be in any mood to take captives if we fail.”

“Better that than the monsters roaming this black forest.”

Geran started to argue the point, but then he thought of the umber hulks and spider-creatures following behind them. The creatures might miss the place where they turned off the trail … or they might not. He wouldn’t want them to come upon Mirya and Selsha here on the forest floor while he and Hamil were on the decks of the ship above. “All right,” he said. “You can come up with us. But you’ll find a safe place to keep out of the way until I call for you.”

“Well enough,” Mirya said. “We’ll follow you.”

Hamil led the way as they scaled the tree. It proved to be an easy climb; the heavy vines helped in the few difficult parts. Geran feared at first that it might be too hard for Selsha, but she scampered up the trunk like a nimble little monkey. Of course, she likely spent more time climbing trees than he did. A few feet below the level of the stern windows, another large fork provided a reasonably comfortable perch that was safely out of sight from the deck above. Geran silently motioned for Mirya and Selsha to wait there, and the two Erstenwolds nodded in acknowledgment. Then he continued up after Hamil.

Better let me have a look first, Hamil said silently. He crept up the last few feet and peeked over the rail, studying the decks above. Seven sailors, three armsmen in mail, your cousin Sergen-and another umber hulk. They’re working up at the bow. It’s driven deep into the trees. No one’s on the quarterdeck.

“An umber hulk too?” The odds were long for Geran’s taste, just with Sergen and his Black Moon allies. He was fairly confident that he could best Sergen-they’d crossed swords before, and he’d had the better of the match- but the presence of ten more enemies and a powerful monster made it simply impossible. Frustration and despair settled over him. Perhaps he could kill Sergen and a pirate or two before he was cut down, but what was the point of that? It wouldn’t keep the rest of the corsairs from sailing off with Seadrake and stranding the Hulburgans in Neshuldaar. He thought hard for a moment, and then he heard another large branch crashing to the forest floor from the ship’s forecastle. If he waited too long, he’d lose his chance altogether. But what chance was there?

Hamil read the despair in his face and grimaced sympathetically. We might be able to stow away, the halfling suggested. Hide somewhere belowdecks until we can thin out their numbers one or two at a time.

A desperate strategy, Geran answered him. And we couldn’t put Mirya and Selsha at such risk. Still, he didn’t see any other possibilities.

A sudden chorus of shouts from the deck above interrupted him. “Stand to your arms! The sorcerer approaches!” the armsmen cried. Footsteps hurried across the deck, and the axe strokes ceased.

“Break out crossbows!” Sergen shouted. “Man the arbalests! He’ll stand off and slay us all with his magic if we can’t drive him off!”

“Sarth?” Geran whispered. He risked a quick scramble up to the rail and peeked over. Sergen and his men scurried all over the deck, seizing weapons and taking cover. A pirate on the quarterdeck hurriedly cranked one of the heavy arbalests mounted at the forward rail. Others crouched by the gunwales, their attention fixed on a distant figure. Streaking over the treetops with his flying magic, Sarth arrowed through the air toward the entangled ship, resplendent in his robes of scarlet and gold. The tiefling aimed his scepter and let loose a searing barrage of bright blue-white sparks. Spitting and crackling, the sparks seared great black marks in the deck; one caught a half-orc pirate who ducked a little too late. The half-orc shrieked and fell smoking to the deck, limbs flailing uncontrollably. Crossbows snapped and hissed in reply, but shields of unseen magic kept the quarrels from finding Sarth’s flesh. Still the deadly bolts forced Sarth to dodge aside. Evidently he didn’t trust his magic to halt a well-aimed quarrel fired at a stationary target.

Hamil grinned. “I think our odds just improved!”

Geran nodded. If the sorcerer’s appearance wasn’t the chance he was looking for, he didn’t know what was. “Quick-tell him we’re here, and get him to move toward the bow!” he said.

The halfling fixed his eyes on Sarth and frowned in concentration. He had to be fairly close to speak into someone’s mind, and the tiefling was hovering a good distance from the side of the ship. But Sarth quickly glanced toward them with a surprised look. The tiefling’s teeth flashed in a fearsome smile, and he swooped off to his left, moving toward the front of the ship. Sergen, his armsmen, and the Black Moon corsairs all turned to follow him.

“Get your bow back from Mirya,” Geran told Hamil. The halfling nodded and slipped back down the trunk. Then Geran cleared his mind to conjure up the best defensive spell he knew-the Scales of the Dragon. “Theillalagh na drendir,” he said. A rippling aura made of violet shards of magical force shimmered into existence around him, flowing over his body like a coat of scales. Hamil returned a moment later with the bow and quiver.

“The umber hulk first,” Geran said softly. “If we can slay it quickly, we’ll have a fighting chance against the rest.”

I doubt I’ll be able to drive an arrow through that monster’s hide, Hamil told Geran.

“Give it a try. If nothing else, you might distract it for me.” He surveyed the deck quickly. Sergen’s small band had worked furiously to clear away the branches that snagged the forward shrouds and stays; the Black Moon deckhands and armsmen now crouched amid the cluttered branches and canvas, snapping off quarrels at Sarth whenever the sorcerer showed himself. Then, before Geran could think better of it, he swarmed up the last few feet of the branch and vaulted over the ship’s rail.

No one noticed his appearance at first. He dashed forward and leaped down the steep steps leading to the main deck. Behind him, Hamil raced up to the forward edge of the quarterdeck and halted at the top of the steps, taking aim. His bow thrummed twice; the first arrow took the pirate by the arbalest in the middle of his back, and