Ruby Guardian (7 page)

“You’re welcome. Now, are you ready to ride?” When Emriana nodded enthusiastically, Xaphira smirked. “Last one to the rope swing is a teazel!” she shouted then put her heels into Dancer, who launched forward, eager for a run.

Laughing, Emriana kicked Honey and charged

,

after them.

The two riders raced across an open field and toward a line of trees, Xaphira perhaps five lengths ahead. There was a trail there leading through the woods toward a swimming hole, and Emriana’s aunt disappeared into the foliage along that route. The younger girl was close behind and gaining.

Dancer kicked up great clods of dirt and leaves into the air as Xaphira guided the horse along the wooded trail at a full gallop. Emriana, following closely behind, had to duck low against her mount’s neck to avoid the flying debris. Taking such cover slowed her progress, though, and her aunt began to

pull away. Grimacing, the girl heeled Honey to pick up the pace when they reached a straightaway along the path, hoping to close the gap and possibly even pass her quarry.

Suddenly, Xaphira drew rein and swerved to one side, sending Dancer through an opening in the undergrowth and across a dry streambed in a single leap. Emriana could not react quickly enough to follow without risking a stumble by Honey, and with only a heartbeat’s hesitation, she relented, shooting past the turn and onward, remembering a second crossing a number of paces ahead.

You’re not winning today, Emriana thought, glancing through the trees at her aunt, who was on the far side of the streambed and once again paralleling it, a little behind the girl’s position. “Come on, Honey,” she urged her horse. “Let’s go, girl.”

As if understanding her rider’s urgency perfectly, the dun leaned hard into its gallop, surging ahead a little more. The path narrowed and turned slightly, and Emriana ducked low again to avoid the branches and vines that whipped past her head. The horse and rider became almost one, a single, fluid entity navigating the forest in harmony.

Emriana noted a familiar shadowtop trunk, large and dead, split long ago by lightning, and knew the crossover was only a few more paces ahead. She risked another glance back over her shoulder, hoping that she and Honey had enlarged the gap sufficiently that, when she crossed the streambed, they would be able to cut off Xaphira and Dancer. Her aunt was not in sight.

Emriana gave a subtle smile. That’s it, she thought proudly. We’ve got her.

The break in the bushes and vines appeared ahead, and Emriana slowed her horse the slightest bit, just enough to make the turn safely.

“Em! Stop!” Xaphira called from behind her.

Em darted a quick look in that direction and saw her aunt in the streambed itself, still astride Dancer, though the horse had slowed and was rearing up on its hind legs.

Emriana hesitated, hearing the urgency in her aunt’s voice, but Honey knew the route well and didn’t respond when the girl began to draw on the reins. The horse slashed through the gap at just the right angle, clearing the bank of the streambed in a single bound. In her indecision, Emriana was not ready for the leap, and she was jostled awkwardly in the saddle, bouncing hard when Honey landed. She felt herself sliding off the horse, losing her grip and flailing wildly.

Her misfortune probably saved Emriana’s life, for at that moment a blurred, golden-brown shape sailed silently over her head, fangs and claws flashing through the air where she would have been otherwise.

• • •

“That could be trouble,” Adyan Mercatio drawled, moving to stand next to Vambran Matrell near the bow of Lady’s Favor and pointing out over the waters of the Vilhon Reach. The lieutenant glanced at his sergeant and saw Adyan grimacing. The expression caused a scar that ran from the middle of the man’s chin to the left side of his jaw to crease and glow white in the morning sun. Vambran followed Adyan’s gaze toward the horizon and shaded his own eyes as he stared, squinting against the sea spray, at what the sergeant had spotted.

Two ships, fast cutters by the looks of them, had just rounded a spit of rocky shoals jutting out from the Chondathan coast, headed directly for Lady’s Favor. Vambran put his spyglass to his eye and took

a closer look, scanning the rigging for a flag or standard. There were none.

Using his glass to study the decks of the two ships, Vambran began counting men. In addition to the sailors scampering about in the rigging and across the decks, a number of others stood idly, watching. There were perhaps two dozen such individuals on each ship. Vambran even caught sight of a man peering through a glass just like his, seeming to stare straight back at him. The other man, tall and skinny and dressed in a long blue coat and a crimson hat, pointed right at the lieutenant and said something to a companion, a shorter, rotund fellow in a sleeveless tunic.

“Trouble, indeed,” Vambran said, turning and handing his glass to Adyan. “Corsairs, it appears, for they show no colors.”

Adyan put the glass to his own eye and peered across the waves. “Well, they sure seem to find us very interesting,” the sergeant said, studying the two ships, which had closed the distance considerably since the two mercenaries had first spotted them. “Damn.”

“Exactly,” Vambran replied as he spun about, intent on finding Captain Za’hure. “Trouble, indeed,” he repeated.

Before Vambran was halfway across the forecastle, someone was already shouting orders from somewhere aft, and sailors were scurrying every which way, running to adjust the rigging and shift the sails. Vambran could already feel Lady’s Favor lean as she began to change direction, turning so she could catch the wind more fully in her sails. The move was taking the ship farther out into the Reach, away from the coast and the two approaching cutters.

“Captain Za’hure,” Vambran called when he spotted the short, barrel-chested man stroking his long, curly sideburns and quietly issuing instructions to his

first mate. Za’hure turned to regard the lieutenant, his bushy eyebrows furrowed impatiently. “Aye?”

“Why are you headed into deeper waters?” Vambran demanded. “Our orders are to make best time to Cimbar, and we’re still three days out, by your own reckoning.”

One of Za’hure’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “And what good will that be doing us, if we slink into port with an empty hold?” the captain asked. “We’ve got pirates on our tail, Lieutenant.”

“Surely you don’t think two ships are enough to bother us?” Vambran asked, gesturing back over the starboard side of Lady’s Favor, where the pair he had spotted earlier were still closing. “I’ve got an entire company of Crescents on board.”

“And while your company be dancing with those dogs, who’ll be tending to the louts on the other four ships?” Za’hure countered, pointing back over his own shoulder.

Vambran felt a cold feeling grow in the pit of his stomach as he peered past the captain toward the stern, where four more cutters were visible, pursuing them out to sea. “Six,” he breathed, stunned.

“Aye, six,” Za’hure said. “They must think that cargo of yours be worth a good spot of coin.”

“But it’s nothing but campaign supplies!” Vambran said. “Blankets, extra weapons, and provisions for my men!”

The captain grimaced. “Be telling that to them,” Za’hure replied. “But I don’t think they be listening, so I aim to outrun them.”

“Can you?” Vambran asked, eyeing the pursuers worriedly.

“Za’hure shook his head. “Nay, Lady’s Favor isn’t meant for running, Lieutenant. But hopefully, with the wind behind us, those dogs’ll lose interest and hunt for easier prey.”

The captain opened his mouth to add something, but a shout from the crow’s nest cut him off. “Three more ships, two off the port bow, one off the starboard bow!”

“Blast!” Captain Za’hure roared, stomping up the steps to the quarterdeck. Once at the top, the man turned and peered ahead, bringing his own spyglass up to one eye. “They seem hell-bent for boarding us, don’t they?”

Vambran didn’t bother to answer. He spun away, running for the companionway and calling for his men to roust themselves. “Adyan! Horial! Assemble the Crescents! We’ve got trouble coming! Sound the call! ‘Green Grow the Fields!’ ” As he reached the stairs leading down into the bowels of the ship, the lieutenant could hear Horial sounding his horn, beginning the notes of a signal song, the particular tune ordering his men to assemble on deck and quaff a particular potion included among their equipment.

Trusting that the members of the Order of the Sapphire Crescent would respond quickly and efficiently, Vambran darted down the steps into the lower deck of Lady’s Favor, headed toward the cabin he and Kovrim had been sharing during the voyage. The lieutenant reached the narrow door and swung it open, stepping inside the tiny room.

“Uncle Kovrim,” Vambran said, moving toward the lower bunk and kneeling down beside it. “There’s trouble.”

The man lying on the thin mattress groaned and rolled over in the dim light of the single lantern, which hung from a hook in the wooden beam overhead. The glow had been reduced to a tiny flame, and it took a moment for Vambran’s eyes to adjust sufficiently to the darkness.

“What is it?” Kovrim Lazel le asked. “What’s going on?”

“Pirates,” Vambran replied, reaching down to try and help his mother’s brother sit up. “Nine ships of them, trying to surround us.”

“Nine!” Kovrim exclaimed, starting upright. Then the man groaned and sank back down again. “Waukeen, I hate the sea.” The older priest swallowed loudly a couple of times then took a slow, deep breath. “What does Za’hure say about it?”

As if in answer to Kovrim’s question, the ship shifted to one side, its timbers groaning, and Vambran could feel himself listing against a tight turn. The motion made Kovrim gasp.

“I wish he wouldn’t do that,” the man said.

“When we thought there were only six, he was going to try to outrun them by turning with the wind, but three more are ahead of us, now. I didn’t wait around to see what he would do next, but I guess he’s trying to slip past a couple of them. I ordered the company to assemble on deck. Horial’s sounding `Green Grow the Fields.’ “

“Probably wise, considering there are nine,” Kovrim said. “Don’t forget to drink up, yourself.”

Suddenly, a horrendous roar deafened the two men, and Lady’s Favor lurched to one side, as though she were trying to leap out of the water.

“Gods, what was that?” Kovrim muttered, trying to rise to his feet.

Vambran could barely hear his uncle for the ringing in his ears. He staggered against one wall of the tiny room, nearly bumping his head on the wildly swinging lantern. “Up top! Now!” he shouted, spun about, and scooted out through the door again as best as he could with the ship listing so sharply to one side.

Back topside, there was a mad scramble in full force. Men were shouting at everyone and no one, and Vambran could see several of the mainsails scorched and dangling free in the wind, with a number of their ropes

flapping in the breeze, burning or smoking. Already the ship was slowing, losing its motivation as the sails were consumed. The Crescents seemed to be gathering in a general group, though there was no space or means for them to assemble into any sort of proper order.

In the next instant, Vambran felt the hairs on the back of his neck tingle, and the next thing he knew, he was facedown on the steps leading to the forecastle as a thunderous crack snapped through the air over his head. He didn’t need to see the flash of brilliance to know that it was a lightning bolt. With his hands clamped over his ears, Vambran rose to one knee in time to see one of Lady’s Favor’s three masts listing awkwardly to one side, tipping over toward the sea. Only the tangle of rigging kept it from going all the way over, but already, several ropes had snapped, and the others were unraveling.

Why in the Nine Hells are they attacking the ship? Vambran wondered. It’s as if they cared not a wit for what we might be carrying.

Another horrendous blast boomed overhead, and Vambran felt the waves of heat wash over him as the fiery ball of magic burst among the sails. Two men who had been high among the ropes screamed and fell, their bodies singed and black. One hit the deck and bounced along its sloped surface, and the other fell directly into the sea.

At that moment, the lieutenant wished that his newfound sorcerous talents had manifested themselves a bit more strongly, for he would have liked to have slung a magical salvo or two back toward the nearest ship. But his skills were still fledgling in many ways, and he knew that no arcane force he could conjure up would have an appreciable effect against the massed strength of nine pirate ships.

Better to save them for the close-in fighting, he thought.

Lady’s Favor pitched sideways with an even more horrendous shudder, knocking Vambran from his feet, and it was followed by two more. When the lieutenant managed to regain his balance and look up, several dark, slimy tentacles, as thick as trees, had snaked up over the side of the ship’s rails, holding fast to the doomed craft.

D

Xaphira watched in horror as a dire-jaguar,

half hidden in the limbs of a stout flam—

ing crown tree, leaped from its perch. The woman’s warning shout had come too late, and Emriana, oblivious to the danger she was in, barreled directly into the creature’s path. Xaphira was certain the girl would be ripped to shreds, but at the last moment, in an awkward tumble, her niece bounced free of Honey’s saddle and flipped backward over the horse’s rump. The dire-jaguar sailed over her, slashing out with its claws but catching only air.

Xaphira did not waste time watching to see if the girl had intended to dismount in such an undignified manner or not. Digging her heels hard into Dancer’s flanks, she pulled her crossbow free of its saddle ties as

the horse lunged ahead. The dire-jaguar was already on its feet as Honey whinnied in sudden fright and kicked out before bounding away to the other side of the dry streambed. For her part, Emriana was still half upended, though the speed with which she scrambled to right herself led Xaphira to believe that the girl was aware of her predicament.