Windwalker - Elaine Cunningham [48]
She carefully sidestepped the mess and spun to survey the chaos around her. A dozen or so of the creatures fought with weapons salvaged from the sea: ancient pikes and rust-brown swords with pitted edges. The pirates held them off easily.
Perhaps too easily.
The elf edged her way out of the melee, parrying sea devil thrusts and jabs as she went. When she was free of the tangle of flailing weapons and cursing pirates, she sprinted toward the aft castle and climbed the ladder to the platform.
From this vantage she had a clear view of the entire ship. As she suspected, on the opposite side of the ship several sahuagin climbed quietly over the rail and made directly for the hold.
Not for these monsters the rough, forgotten weapons of drowned sailors. They were armed with spiked halberds carved from sea ivory, and they wore weapon belts heavy with fine daggers. On every belt hung a net.
They were hunting, and apparently they wished to take their captive alive.
Sharlarra's brow furrowed in consternation. In moments the sahuagin would discover that their quarry was gone. From what she'd heard tell of them, they would kill every man aboard just for sport.
She glanced down at the sword. "Do you think you could imitate Fyodor's voice?"
"Not without talking," it observed rather snidely.
Sharlarra let that pass. "Just shout out an occasional battle cry, an encouraging word, a warning-that sort of thing."
"It's better than nothing."
"Very gracious of you. Let's go."
As she leaped from the platform the sword let out a terrible roar-a blood-chilling sound that brought to mind the charge of a wounded bear. Two of the monsters-and Caladorn Cassalanter- instinctively turned toward the sound.
A third sahuagin darted toward the distracted nobleman. Sharlarra pointed the sword toward the new danger, and her rapidly chanted spell was swallowed by the warning shout pouring from the weapon.
The monster stopped just short of Caladorn, its raised weapon clanging sharply against a miniature wall offeree. Sharlarra dispelled the barrier with a quick gesture-just in time to allow the man's answering strike to pass through.
She spun to the right, following the impulse flowing from the sword. The blade tangled in the spires of a rusted trident, bringing her much closer to a sahuagin's fangs that she had ever hoped to be.
The sahuagin grinned horribly and punched the enjoined weapons toward the elf's face. Instinctively she ducked, ignoring the sharp pain in her shoulder as her sword arm was forced back. She pulled a knife from her boot with her free hand and thrust up, throwing all her weight into the attack.
Thick hide resisted the blade longer than Sharlarra would have thought possible. It gave way suddenly, and the hilt slammed into the monster's belly. The sahuagin shrieked in pain and drew back, leveling the trident for another attack.
One of the well-equipped sahuagin strode over and shoved the wounded monster aside, planting himself in front of Sharlarra and leaning menacingly toward her. To her surprise, the creature did not strike, and it held one hand high overhead. The monster let out a call, a series of loud, chittering clicks that seemed to resound through every plank on the ship.
All over the ship, the sahuagin fell away from the fight and stood with weapons at guard. Something had changed in their manner. Even though the fighting had ceased, the monsters suddenly looked more menacing.
"Where is the drow?" the leader hissed.
"Do you wish to answer, or shall I?" the sword enquired softly.
"Tell them we'll never yield her," Sharlarra prompted. In Fyodor's voice, the sword shouted the response.
"The hell we won't," retorted the red-bearded pirate. "I'm captain here, and I say take her and be you gone!"
The hideous head snapped toward the speaker. "Where are you hiding her?"
"Hiding her?" the captain said incredulously. "I wouldn't spit on her if'n she was