The Mercenaries - Ed Greenwood [10]
A battle at sea; now that at least would be-she stiffened. Aye, there.
"Ship ho!" she shouted, pointing.
A ship was rushing at them out of the night-lying low in the water but running fast, its full sails dark. No lamps sparkled aboard as it raced out of the northeast, heading straight for them.
Belmer came sprinting down the deck toward the helm. The captain thundered after him, his untidy gray-white beard bobbing as he moaned in fear. A paunch larger than Belmer's wobbled along below it. Sharessa gave the panting man a look of contempt and drew her sword, winding her arm firmly through the nearest rigging to keep from being hurled overboard if their attacker rammed them.
The other Sharkers were taking battle stances, blades flashing back moonlight as they scrambled for safe perches.
There were shouts aft, and the Morning Bird groaned and heeled over, turning abruptly; Belmer had ordered the crew to dip one of the sweeps and use it as a drag to make the turn swifter. The deck heaved and flexed under her boots, and Sharessa felt the familiar excitement of battle racing through her, making her tingle all over, and feel slightly sick. She grinned at her comrades and crouched low in case the crew of the onrushing ship had bows.
No hail came as it rushed down upon them, cleaving the water in its haste. It was straining under full sail; if it struck them squarely, the Morning Bird would be broken into two and driven down into the dark water.
Because she had no better weapon to wield, Sharessa laughed in defiance as death raced to meet her.
The Bird was turning, groaning like a wounded seal. Somewhere aboard, wood snapped with a deafening sound, and a loose line danced across the decks. The dark ship came on, a carved black dragon at its bows seeming to open its jaws to take them. It raced nearer… and nearer…
Sharessa heard despairing cries from the sailors. And then the dark ship was rushing past, hurling back water from its bows, and didn't seem that close after all. Sharessa peered at its flanks and decks, trying to make out a name or see what manner of men crewed her, but murky darkness seemed to cling to her decks like a shroud.
Out of that dimness something twanged and leapt, and unseen things whistled through the air toward the crouching Sharkers. Then the night was full of the snapping thrum of catapults letting fly, and points of fire suddenly blazed at the stern of the passing ship.
Fire arrows! Sharessa stood up to shout a warning, realized it was useless, and hastily freed herself from the rigging as firepots shattered up and down the decks. She saw Brindra swing frantically at one as it came right at her and then smash it to shards. Glass crashed on all sides, and Sharessa's nose was full of the familiar reek of lamp oil. She crouched low behind the rail, feeling for the storm ropes.
The deck was awash now, and strange clay balls as big as shields were landing in the puddles of oil. Sharessa cowered away and for the first time looked around for the Morning Bird's deck boats-those balls must be some sort of explosive. They slumped in the oil as if they were melting… and then she had no more time to wonder what they were, as the night rained fire.
Shaft after shaft whooshed low overhead, trailing bright flames, and plunged to the decks. Where arrows met oil, flames rushed along the wet boards, and she saw her fellow Sharkers cursing and dancing about, trying to stamp out rising tongues of fire. She had one glimpse of the stern of the ship that had attacked them, dwindling in the moonlight-and then an inferno roared in front of her and she scrambled back with an involuntary scream.
She smelt the reek of her own scorched hair as she ran along the decks, seeking Belmer or the captain. If there were buckets of sand or water to be had,