Sea of Ghosts - Alan Campbell [122]
‘What about her guns?’
‘She’s dead in the water,’ Howlish said. ‘Maskelyne’s only hope now is rescue.’
‘Very well, let’s board her.’
‘He might try to board us,’ the captain added. ‘You might want to let the Song or the Trumpet approach first.’
‘We have the largest force here, Captain,’ Briana replied. ‘Have them stand at arms.’
‘As you say, ma’am.’
Howlish did as Briana ordered; he sailed the Herald around the stern of the deadship and then hauled her in close to the wind. He ordered her crew to lower their own spinnaker and then to ready themselves to repel boarders. The Unmer vessel did not fire her strange cannons. Indeed, as the distance between the two ships closed it became apparent that those weapons were little more than pillars of slag. Maskelyne’s crew had no means with with to defend themselves against the Haurstaf men-o’-war. Howlish’s long experience as a privateer became apparent, for he managed to heave to within three yards of the stricken ship.
The deadship did not appear to have sustained any additional damage from the attack, but Maskelyne’s crew, under the shadow of that scorched metal tower, were nevertheless eager to secure the grapples thrown over by the Guild mariners. Briana joined Howlish amidships just as the Haurstaf vessel dropped her corvus, the iron spikes clanging against the derelict’s metal-plated deck. No shots were fired; indeed, not one of Maskelyne’s crew was even armed.
The metaphysicist himself appeared on deck. He took one look at the tattered sail, then turned to the Haurstaf vessel and vaulted up onto the boarding ramp. He strode over to the Herald without a care in the world, forcing the Guild mariners already on the ramp to retreat.
Briana had seen him once before, many years ago at Hu’s court. Although they’d never spoken, back then she’d been struck by the confidence and vigour in his stride. He’d been a scholar of wide renown among the Losotan privileged classes, a man of considerable means and an Unmer expert who had advised the emperor himself on several occasions. Yet this creature standing before her now was a shade of that former man. He was dirty, unshaven, stooped and painfully gaunt. His dark eyes glanced everywhere, as though his former arrogance had been replaced by a nervous and unsettled energy.
‘Thank you for coming to our aid,’ he said. ‘Please pass my regards on to your cannoneers.’
‘You did not seem inclined to stop,’ Briana remarked.
Maskelyne stepped aside as Kevin Lum, the Irillian Herald’s first officer, led a cohort of armed men across the corvus onto the stricken deadship. Most of the Guild sailors began rounding up Maskelyne’s crew, while others threw open the fore, midship and sterncastle hatches and began their search of the vessel. Maskelyne turned back to Briana. ‘You evidently want something from us,’ he said. ‘If I’d offered to parley, you might have taken advantage of our unfortunate position. However, Guild maritime law prohibits you from abandoning us on a powerless ship. I believe that would be seen as murder.’
‘He’s right,’ Howlish said. ‘The moment we shredded their sail, we made them enemy combatants. As long as they don’t resist our boarding party, we have to take them with us.’
Briana cursed under her breath. Ethan Maskelyne hadn’t changed at all.
Just then there was a commotion on the deadship’s deck, as two Guild sailors dragged a young woman through the sterncastle hatch. She was about fifteen, olive-skinned, with a mess of black hair. She kicked and screamed at them, ‘Let me go, you idiots, I need to get back . . . you don’t . . . understand.’
Briana smiled. ‘Does that look like resistance to you, Captain Howlish?’
‘Very much so, ma’am.’
Maskelyne’s eyes narrowed. He looked at the girl with marked distaste. ‘This young lady,’ he said, ‘is not part of my crew.’
Out of the hatch behind her stepped a woman with a small child in her arms. She was bruised and bleeding and walked with a limp. One of the Guild sailors helped her towards the corvus, but she hesitated before stepping aboard.
Maskelyne’s expression softened.