The Charnel Prince - J. Gregory Keyes [127]
“Unless we get some luck, they’ll have us long before we reach the shoals,” Malconio finally admitted.
“Well, then, they’re in for a fight,” Cazio told his brother, resting his hand on the hilt of his rapier.
“I told you before,” Malconio said, “they’ve no reason to come close when they can sink us from a distance.” He put his hands on his hips. “But suppose they did try to board us—that fellow with the glowing sword—how do you intend to fight him? Your friend back at the docks dealt him a blow that should have had him buried in two places. But he was walking fine, last I saw him.”
“I’ve fought his kind before,” Cazio said with that overabundance of confidence that Anne found so infuriating. “I’ll cut off his head and send him to the bottom of the sea.”
“Last time you had me to drop bricks on him,” z’Acatto reminded him. “What shall I drop on this one?”
Cazio shrugged. “Perhaps an anchor? Surely we can find something.”
Malconio folded his hands. “What? No single combat this time? What of your honor?”
“It’s hardly honorable to fight with the aide of hell,” Cazio replied. “I’ve sworn to protect these ladies. I’ll do that even if I have to fight with less than perfect honor.”
Malconio rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he said. “They’ve twice our numbers without taking Casnar z’Estrigo into account. Drop an anchor on him if you wish, though I have only so many anchors.” He nodded at the approaching ship. “But it won’t come to that. See those arbalests? What did I tell you?”
Anne could see some sort of ungainly devices mounted on the other ship’s deck, but couldn’t make out what they were supposed to do. Austra saved her the embarrassment of asking what an arbalest was, by asking herself.
“It’s a huge mechanical bow,” Malconio replied. “Hurls stones, lead balls, pots of flame—things like that.”
“Don’t you have any sort of war engines, Captain?” Anne asked. “Some way to fight back? Surely you’ve had to fend off pirates before.”
Malconio shook his head. “We’ve got one small arbalest. It’s all we ever needed against the few pirates that dare the wrath of the guild.”
“I suggest you set it up, then,” z’Acatto said.
“I suppose you’re right, old man. A little fight is better than none at all. And perhaps Netuno will smile on me. He has before.”
Five bells later, their pursuer lobbed a few experimental stones at them. They fell short, but not far short, and Malconio’s sailors stood nervously with their bows and set up their arbalest—which did indeed resemble a large crossbow. Anne could hear the sailors on the other ship now and see them scuttling about on the deck and in the rigging.
“We’ll be within their range long before they’re in ours,” Malconio said. “Ladies, I suggest you go below.” He glanced off toward the horizon, where black clouds were piling up. “It’s not often I wish for a storm, but you might pray to whatever saints you revere that that one catches us before they do. In a blow, we might be able to lose them.”
“I’ll stay up here,” Anne said.
“And do what?” Cazio asked. “Can you shoot a bow?”
“I could try.”
“We don’t have enough arrows to waste them,” Malconio said. “Go below. It’s my ship, and that’s an order.”
Anne prepared another objection, but let it fade behind her lips. Sir Neil had died because of her last poor decision. Malconio knew his business far better than she did.
“Come on, Austra,” Anne said.
“Take this,” Cazio said. He held out the hilt of a dagger.
“I have one,” she said.
“I don’t,” Austra said.
“You take it, then,” Cazio replied.
Austra took the weapon, but her face puckered. “I want to stay up here with you,” she said.
Cazio smiled and took Austra’s hand. “My brother is right this time,” he said. “Up here you would only be a distraction. With you safe below I can fight the way the saints intend me to.”
Austra lowered her eyes, then suddenly reached up and kissed Cazio on the lips.
“Don’t die,” she said.
“I won’t,” he assured her. “I’m not meant to die at sea. Go on, and be brave.”
She nodded and turned