Crossroads 04 - The Dragon Isles (33 page)

Collision Course

 
         
Shimmer
howled and tried to pull away, but Tanalish shook her head and sank her teeth
further into his shoulder. They writhed together amid the storm, thunder
crashing all around.

 
          
Ula
felt as though she would be shaken to pieces in the lady dragon’s claw. Closing
her mind to the crushing pain in her guts and spine, she wormed her left hand
toward the hilt of the dagger at her waist. Her fingertips brushed the pommel,
and hope sprang anew in her heart. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around it
and pulled the knife from its sheath.

 
          
Shimanloreth
bellowed in pain as bits of flesh and blood splattered out of his wounded
shoulder and wing. He smashed the side of his head against Tanalish’s face.
They were falling now, her wings barely holding them aloft. She didn’t seem to
care if they crashed into the raging sea far below.

 
          
He
snapped at her eyes. The brass dragon blinked and loosened her grip
momentarily. Shimmer rammed Tanalish with his nose, and her jaws ripped free
from his shoulder. She spat out his flesh and turned to attack once more.

 
          
Shimmer
opened his mouth and flashing white energy leaped from his maw into Tanalish’s
startled face. The lady dragon screamed, writhing in pain. Her talons flailed
wildly as every muscle in her huge body spasmed.

 
          
Tanalish’s
claw jerked open. Before Ula could grab hold or lash out with her dagger, she
fell, plummeting toward the storm-tossed ocean far below.

 
          
* * * * *

 
          
“Hard to port!”
Mik yelled.
“Hard to
port!”

 
          
“Do
it!” Jerick bellowed at his startled helmsman.

 
          
The
mate spun the wheel frantically with all his might.

 
          
The
brass-armored trireme lunged toward them over the heaving waves.
A flash of lightning revealed Lord Kell standing by the triarch’s
chair in the stem, his gray eyes gleaming in triumph.

 
          
Red Wake
responded slowly, fighting
against the pull of waves and wind. She veered left, her gunwale nearly dipping
into the water as the raging surf threatened to roll her over.

 
          
Another flash of lightning.
The trireme drove in on them, its
brass-headed ram aimed for the galley’s starboard flank. A huge wave surged
over
Red Wake's
side, dashing seamen
to the rail; many barely avoided being swept overboard.

 
          
Mik
and Trip kept their feet amid the chaos. The sailor grabbed a boat hook and tossed
it to Jerick, then retrieved two more for himself and Trip. “If the angle is
shallow enough,” he shouted, “we can turn them away!”

 
          
“Man
the boat hooks!” Jerick cried. “Prepare to repel attack!” But only a few
crewmen reached the rail with boathooks in their hands. Mik and the rest braced
themselves as the trireme swept forward.

 
          
The
rhythm of Lord Kell’s drumchanter rose above the voice of the storm. The
trireme’s triple banks of oars cut through the crashing waves. Standing in the
stern, Kell shouted orders to his helmsmen.

 
          
Red Wake
kept turning ever so slowly,
the waves surging against her sides. She swung nearly parallel to the trireme’s
course, presenting a difficult target for Kell’s brass ram.

 
          
“It’s
going to miss us!” Trip cried.

 
          
“Not
without our help it won’t
! ”
Mik said.
“Ready on the boathooks!
Heave!”

 
          
They
stabbed the long poles over the side and pushed with all their might. The iron
heads of the hooks lanced into the trireme’s sides, each minutely altering the
enemy ship’s course. The impact nearly knocked Mik and the others from their
feet.

 
          
They
held on and watched triumphantly as the brass warship swung alongside. The crew
of
Red Wake
cheered, but Jerick
barked, “It’s not over yet!”

 
          
The
trireme shipped oars to avoid having them sheared off in the collision. The two
ships groaned as their hulls met, side to side.

 
          
“Now!”
Lord Kell called.

 
          
A
company of brass-armored warriors threw grappling ropes onto
Red Wake,
catching her rail and tangling
her rigging. The brass mariners hauled on the lines, lashing the ships into
close contact.

 
          
Mik
hefted his boathook like a spear and took careful aim. As the brass galley
settled alongside, he heaved the weapon toward Lord Kell. Kell didn’t see the
makeshift spear coming; it flew straight toward his unarmored neck.

 
          
In
the next moment, though, a huge wave rocked the two ships. The boathook sailed
past Kell’s left ear and stuck in the triarch’s seat behind him.

 
          
The
lord of the Order of Brass whirled toward Mik, murder flashing in his eyes. His
deep voice thundered over the raging storm. “Take them!” he called to his
warriors. “But leave Vardan for me!”

 
          
In
response, three dozen brass-armored seamen swarmed across the ropes binding the
two ships together.

 
          
Jerick’s
crew responded quickly, drawing their weapons and snatching up belaying pins,
boathooks, and anything else that might serve to fend off the invaders.

 
          
But
just as the two forces were about to meet, Jerick called, “Hold! Lay down your
weapons!”

 
          
“What?”
Mik and Trip asked simultaneously “Lay down your weapons!” Jerick repeated. “We
surrender.”

 
          
*****

 
          
Cold,
swirling winds buffeted Ula as she fell. The wicked rain lashed against her
body. Above her, Tanalish writhed in agony, the she-dragon’s brass-armored head
charred and blistered.

 
          
The
joined key at Ula’s waist blazed brightly. An image of a huge diamond formed in
her mind—but she pushed it aside.
Red
Wake
looked so tiny below. And was that another boat alongside it?

 
          
“What
a stupid way to die,” she thought. “Dozens of enemies howling for my blood, and
I’m going to be killed in a fall.”

 
          
Though
she knew hitting the water would undoubtedly kill her, she twisted her body and
arced into a diving position. She ignored the aches of her flesh, the screaming
of the wind, and the lashing of the rain, and focused on the surface of the sea
far below.

 
          
“Key
to a fortune at my waist, and I’ll never get to see it,” she thought.

 
          
A
dark-winged shadow flitted overhead.

 
          
Suddenly,
she stopped falling.

 
          
Shimmer
screamed in agony as he swept Ula into his arms. The wind turned the spray of
blood from his mangled shoulder into a clinging red mist. As he gazed at the
sea elf, his face and form became slightly more human.

 
          
Ula
smiled at him. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” she said.

 
          
“I’m
not sure ... I can save us,” he gasped.

 
          
“At
least you tried.”

 
          
Something
hard smashed into them, and the world went black.

 
          
* * *
* *

           
“How can we surrender?” Mik asked
angrily.

 
          
“Use
your head, lad,” Jerick replied. “We’re outnumbered and out-armed. A storm is
no place to be fighting. We’ll need all our strength and wits just to pull
through this.”

 
          
“What
makes you think they’ll let us live?” Mik asked.

 
          
One
of the brass warriors near him charged. The sailor spun and clouted him on the
back of the head with the pommel of his scimitar. The man crashed to the deck
with a soggy thud.

 
          
“Call
off your dogs, Kell,” Mik barked. “I won’t be so kind to the next one.”

 
          
“Hold!”
Lord Kell cried. “Hold!”

 
          
“Any
of my crew who fights,” Jerick bellowed, “will be answerin’ to me!”

 
          
The
crews of the two ships cautiously backed away from each other, leaving Kell,
Jerick, Mik, and Trip standing alone in the middle of
Red Wake's
quarterdeck.

 
          
Mik
and Trip glanced at each other, neither willing to put down his weapons just
yet.

 
          
Jerick
threw his arms wide. “What is this, Lord Kell?” he said. “We’ve no need to
fight I’ve no quarrel with either you or the Order of Brass. If you’d asked us
to heave to, we would have.
Gladly.”

 
          
“I
doubt some of your passengers would comply so willingly,” Kell said.

 
          
“I
gave your man no more than he deserved,” Mik replied. “Have you taken up piracy
now, Lord Kell, or are you still out to avenge some imagined slight to your
honor?”

 
          
“Look
out!” Trip cried, pushing Mik aside. As the-sailor and the kender fell, a huge
shape crashed onto the deck beside them.

 
          
The
crew gasped as part of the battered and bloody form moved. It was a
half-dragon, half-human creature, slightly larger than a
minotaur
,
and covered with bronze armor.

 
          
“Shimmer!”
Mik said.

 
          
Shimanloreth
rose slowly to his knees as Mik and Trip knelt by the prostrate form of Ula,
lying on the deck beside him. The sea elf was covered with blood, though how
much of it was her own Mik could not tell. The bejeweled key at her waist glowed
faintly.

 
          
“Take
them!” Lord Kell barked, pointing at the group.
“Alive, if
you can, but take them!”

 
          
“Stop!”
Jerick said. “We have no quarrel!”