In Search of Spice, page 9
There was a murmur of appreciation at this, many heads nodding. The Bosun pushed her way to the front, winked at the Captain and turned to Suzanne. “Three cheers for Suzanne! Bloody good job, girl! Come on lads and lasses, Hup, hup hurrah!”
All the girls in the crew joined in with a will, and most of the men, thought a few just looked puzzled. Suzanne looked a bit startled, and the Bosun went over to her, put her arm round her and looked up at the Captain. She nodded at him. Captain Larroche scowled at her and went on.
“Very well. I find Fourth Officer Reilly’s death to be an accident, but with that judgement I also decree that his crime will not be posted to his memory on return to Rikklaw’s Port. It is a matter for the ship and closed. The shares that he bought in the inventory revert to the ship.”
This caused another cheer from the crew.
“These events leave us with two problems, we lack a Fourth Officer and we have a person on board who is not a member of the crew. Both the First Mate and the Bosun have tested Miss Delarosa, and we accept her as a Midshipman on the Queen Rose with the acting rank of Fourth Officer.
“Fourth Officer Delarosa has killed a member of this crew and I do not like her replacing the person she killed, even if it was an accident, as we are not a damn pirate ship!” He glared at the crew. Pat and other younger members shuffled their feet and hung their heads, even though they were not aware that this occurred.
“Oh, I dunno, Sir,” said the Bosun cheerfully. “Helps keep the officers in line.” A laugh ran round the old crew, who knew both the Captain and the Bosun and were treating the whole thing as excellent entertainment.
Captain Larroche ignored the interruption and carried on. “Fourth Officer Delarosa must be punished, and the punishment we have decided is a twenty five percent reduction in her share of the profits.
“Carry on!”
The crew burst into noise, all discussing the events at the same time, and Brian whispered into the Captain’s ear.
“That went well sir. A few confused, most happy and none upset. The girls are particularly pleased.”
“I hope so Brian. Not sure our soldiers, and I include Sara in that, are impressed.”
“They’re used to telling people what to do, not explaining it. I prefer our method. Better for people who have lots of skills, not just killing.”
An hour later, the Captain and Brian were on the poop deck in discussion with the helmsman and Walters. The crew were scattered round the ship and Suzanne was no longer the topic of conversation, though most had managed to have a word and congratulate her on her appointment.
The farm boy, Sam, was encouraging the pigs to relax in the sun in which Mot ably assisted him, and he found himself treating her as a superior - the pigs trusted her a lot more than him. The chickens had not had the same instant trust, but were getting there. One had been bold enough to peck at her tail to suffer severe chastisement. This alarmed Meghan, Sam’s assistant, who was not at all sure about a dog that seemed to know everything about animals and was clearly trying to instruct her. Sara and Pat were inspecting arrows and dividing them up, Pat cursing the fletcher and wishing he had been involved in the purchase.
A cry came from the masthead, “Ship on the larboard bow!”
Nils leapt into the rigging and went up so fast he seemed to levitate. Everyone stopped what they were doing and watched him reach the soldier, who was pointing. Nils looked for a moment, and then called down to the Captain.
“Spakka longship, about an hour off sir.”
Brian moved to the poop rail, “Bosun, clear ship for action. Crew to stations. Topsailsmen aloft, get the topsail off her.” With the topsail down, she would be harder for the longship to see, being lower in the water, and it might be possible for them to slip by unseen, while they could still see the longship from the masthead.
Pat and Sara jumped into the rigging while two soldiers took the bundles of good arrows to the poop and laid the arrows into racks, each rack lashed closed. They started testing the bows, and the rest of the soldiers joined them, four of which had crossbows. Sam let Mot get the pigs and chickens into their cages which he lashed down.
The helmsman put the ship over onto a new course well to the right of the longship. Within ten minutes, with the topsails lashed tight, the ship was driven by the main courses only, at a noticeable slacking of speed.
“Another longship to starboard, sir,” came Nils’ voice. “Same distance.”
“Damn,” breathed Brian. “Bastards have laid a net for us.”
On the horizon, to the right of their course, a thin column of smoke rose into the air.
“Seen us,” said the captain with finality. “Get the sails back up.”
Brian rushed to shout the orders, while Perryn came up.
“Sir, I can do something about the fire. But I need fire myself.”
The Captain looked at him for a moment. “Bosun! Get to the galley and bring us a small stove of lit charcoal. We have a Fire Mage aboard.”
In moments, the Bosun was handing a small iron chest up the front ladder, and Perryn took it to a niche. He laid it down while the Bosun fanned it and stood by with extra charcoal. Carefully, he opened his own small chest and took out a lens, perhaps a handspan in diameter. Holding it above the charcoal, at a slight angle, directed towards the smoke on the horizon, he closed his eyes and started to intone quietly, almost under his breath.
One of the soldiers stepped forward, cranking back a large crossbow.
“Want me to fire a bolt down the line of force, Mage?”
Perryn’s eyes opened; he looked at him blankly for a moment, then smiled.
“Yes! That would help, wouldn’t it? How did you know that, soldier?”
“Worked with a Fire Mage before. Helped him focus the energy more quickly. You should be able to hit the fire with the bolt which will give them a bit of a surprise.” He grinned happily.
“I’m sure I can. Give me a minute, and then fire when I drop my hand.”
Perryn closed his eyes again, intoned a phrase, raised his hand then dropped it. The crossbow man released a bolt high in an arc towards the smoke. Perryn snapped a final word and the charcoal seemed to leap forward, through the lens and after the bolt.
They watched the horizon in silence for a moment, until the column of smoke seemed to shudder and puffed out at the base, then broke up and disappeared.
“Good lad,” said the crossbow man, slapping Perryn on the back. “I reckon you hit that fire smack on and spread it all over the ship. Those rowers will be hopping in their chains.”
“Well done Perryn,” called the Captain, as he concentrated on getting speed to the ship.
“It never occurred to me to use a bolt before,” said Perryn,. “Nobody ever mentioned it at the academy but it makes so much sense. You opened a perfect track for me to pour the energy down. It might have taken me half an hour to put it out otherwise.”
The crossbow man grinned. “Not all magicians go to the Church. Some just don’t like the Gods, and definitely not the priests. Then we have a fair few who prefer to be soldiers and we tend to think a bit more directly, if you get my drift.”
“You have the touch yourself?” Perryn said, while Walters also looked surprised.
“Nah, but one of my mates did and I picked up a few bits. You gotta be careful that they don’t have a Mage themselves - That’s what happened to my mate, bolt came right back at him and skewered him.”
Walters went white at this and retreated.
The crossbow man grinned some more. “You wanna check and see if they have any of that blasting powder?”
Perryn looked blank and Walters gasped. “That’s a closely guarded secret. How do you know of it?”
“Ah, lots of people know about it. Anyway, if you scan that boat you should feel it, and you can blow it up. Why we ain’t got none ourselves.”
The two Mages stared at him in amazement. “I don’t sense anything,” said Perryn, not at all sure what he was looking for.
“Oh well, enough of that, can you overlook that longship? Useful to know what they are up to.”
“Overlook?”
“Ah,” said Walters, “we can use the lenses to see further but the longships are over the horizon and out of sight.”
“You can create the lenses out of air, can’t you?” asked the crossbow man.
“Yes,” said Walters, “but we need an anchor and we use our hands for that.”
“Use the cloud. That one looks thick enough. Do it big enough and we can all see what is happening.”
“But, but, you use a lens to concentrate light, so you can see distance - the cloud”s in the wrong direction.”
“Sir, I think I understand what he means,” said Perryn. “If I put a shiny back on the lens, it would reflect as well as concentrate light.”
“Yeah, that sounds like what our laddie used to do. He couldn’t make a very big one though, but it helped.”
“Let me have a go,” said Perryn and started to concentrate on the cloud. A blurring appeared on the cloud, started to come together then collapsed. “I think I will need some practice - with the ship rolling I can’t manage it.”
“Not to worry, we’ll find out soon enough.”
The ship was scudding along at full tilt, with every bit of sail up and the Captain was examining the rake of the masts, calculating the forces. The longships had disappeared from view and he was worried.
Suzanne appeared. “Sir, permission to stand down the crew and get them fed. Any action will be an hour away at least, and I want them relaxed and rested before fighting.”
He glanced at her. “Good thinking Fourth, but not sure food is a good idea. Ever seen an arrow in the stomach? Not good if there is food in it.”
“That’s why I want them fed now sir, so they have more energy and the food is past the first part of the gut.”
“Very well. Warn the first watch they are on call.”
Suzanne turned and called the Bosun over and the two went off. The crew started down the rigging and headed for the galley.
“Those two are as thick as thieves,” murmured Brian. “Amazing how they get on. Have to say they have taken a firm hold on the crew in no time at all.”
“I still worry she will be trouble, Brian.”
“Don’t think you have much to worry about, sir. Except for that damn longship. I want to know where it is and what it is up to. How many ships saw that signal?”
“They’ll see us long before we see them, with this spread of sail. I think we will see him come at the port bow in about an hour. He’ll have a hell of a pull to get there in time to hit us, though.”
“They have speed on us, sir.”
“Only for a short pull. This is a long chase.”
Pat appeared with a tray of food for them, Walters and Perryn who were still on the poop. A soldier came behind him with food for his mates.
“Where’s your damn dog, boy?” asked the Captain.
“With the Bosun, sir. They get on well, and she’ll be sorting out boarders. Mot is good there, not much use to me. Mot’ll take a couple down at least.”
“With luck she won’t have anything to do. Boarders will mean a hole in the side from the ram. You know what you have to do?”
“Yessir. Take out the helmsman about 100 paces away, so the longship swings. Take out the man beating the drum to keep time. But, sir, I would also like to give this arrow a go.”
He proffered an arrow with a huge, heavy head, pointed and streamlined.
“I can hit a barrel with this at 200 paces; I reckon I can hit a longship at 300. Coming down from a good height, it should go straight through the hull around the rowers’ feet, give them a scare if it doesn’t hit one and kill him.”
“Hummph. Yes, that could work. Try it out first.”
“Also, sir, I think I can take out the helmsman at a lot more than 100 paces. Permission to try when I think I am in range?”
“As long as you take off a quarter of your range - you must make certain with your first shot or they will put up shields.”
“Bodkin arrow, sir, will go through plate armour and most shields. I will make certain of a hit sir. I am taking off nearly half my range because of the roll of the ship, but it does help that the wind is with me. I’ll need to be on the foredeck, sir.”
“Why not the crow’s nest on the foremast?”
“Pitches too much, sir. What I gain in range I lose in accuracy.”
“Hummph. Fair enough, off with you now. Brian, who’s in the nest?”
“Nils, sir. Best eyes on the ship, has seen longships before.”
Spakka
The afternoon dragged on. The crew went about their business cheerfully, not thinking of an enemy - all they had seen was a smoke. The Captain fretted and marched about the deck impatiently, his forehead deeply creased. The day was crisp and clear, the sun warm on their backs and the breeze steady, the sea a rolling swell without a breaking wave. The dolphins played in the bow, every now and again setting off a delighted squeal when Mot went to talk to them.
The sun was still high when Pat came running back from the front, calling loudly, “To arms! To arms! Stand to! The enemy is upon us!”
As he came closer, he shouted up to the Captain as the crew boiled out onto the deck. “Sir! They have a deception spell. The longships are obscured. You can spot them by the seabirds following the ships, everything else is obscured. Get the priest on it. Nearest ship will be in my range in about ten minutes.” He turned and ran back to the foredeck, while everyone turned to look for birds.
Sure enough, they could pick out no ships, but here and there were tiny flocks of birds, all either coming straight at the ship or on a converging course. Looking in front of them, the air was sort of squiggly, almost like a haze, very faint.
Perryn arrived on the poop, and started staring. ‘His’ crossbowman rapidly joined him. “A ship there, another there and a third there Mage,” he said, pointing. “Can you trace the threads of power back to source?”
“What?” Perryn said, who did not have a clue what to do to break the spell.
“If you can follow the threads of the spells back to the Mage, you can direct my quarrel down it and give him a shock. Might even skewer him, but should blow out the illusion.”
“Ah, yes, give me a moment.” He concentrated on the nearest ship, and opened his mind to the spell, feeling it, absorbing it, knowing it. He saw with clarity how the spell was wrought, and saw the thread of power running back over the horizon, combining with other threads of power from the other longships.
“Yes! Give me a moment and I will be ready.” The crossbow man started to wind up his crossbow.
On the foredeck, Pat put up his bow, pulled it back so his shoulders bulged, and casually released one of his heavy arrows, right down the wind. The crew watched as it sailed high up to catch the gusts, and travelled an impossibly long way to plunge into the closest mirage, a good three hundred paces away. As they watched, the mirage wavered, and cleared to reveal a longship, oars all over the place and men rushing around. The oars on one side caught in the water, and the longship swung broadside to them. A cheer came up from the crew.
“Well, I’d never of believed it,” breathed Brian, while the Captain nodding in equal astonishment. “He must have startled them and smashed a board on the side. Put the fear of God into them.”
“Now!” cried Perryn beside him, indicating a direction, and the crossbow man released a quarrel. “Damn, I missed it. I didn’t pick up the quarrel. Can you send another?”
“Give me a minute,” said the crossbow man, unperturbed, and already busily rewinding the heavy crossbow for the next shot. “Should be ready in a couple of minutes. Here, choose a quarrel from the bag and get to know it, drop it in the slot when you are ready. Better if I don’t touch it.”
Pat loosed another of his heavy arrows, with no result this time.
“Perryn reached over, selected a quarrel, noticing with pleased surprise that it had a flint tip not cold iron, closed his eyes and ran his fingers up and down the shaft, barely breathing. He wrapped his concentration around it, took his hands away and with his mind gently dropped it in the slot. The crossbow man raised the crossbow and released the quarrel without a word.
Perryn closed his eyes and used his inner sense to caress the quarrel and tweak it in the right direction. He felt it curve up and drop down on the thread of power, and slide down it away and over the horizon. He stood stock still, delicately balancing the quarrel and felt it increase speed and rush down. His eyes opened wide in shock, and he fell to his knees and vomited.
A murmur of surprise went up from all sides, as the illusion fell away and the longships were revealed, nine of them, all pulling for the Queen Rose, while Pat’s victim was getting itself together and would be under way again soon. The crossbow man knelt beside Perryn, looking worried.
“You alright, lad?”
Perryn looked at him bleakly. “I was riding with the quarrel when it hit. I felt it go straight into an eye and a skull explode. Dear God, I just killed a man. I felt his death. It was horrible.”
“Ah, lad, that’s it, is it? Well you wouldn’t be much of a man if you didn’t feel like that on your first kill, and I am sorry I didn’t warn you from riding the quarrel. Didn’t really know, actually. Mage I worked with couldn’t ride ‘em. That’s a good skill, lad. Now don’t worry about killing the man, yeah, it ain’t a good feeling, but you will get used to it. Just make sure you never lose the bad feeling ‘cos ordinary men don’t much like Mages who can kill easily. Just remember that killing that Mage gives us a better chance to win this battle. You can’t fight an enemy you can’t see. Bear up laddie.”
He looked at the Captain, who raised an eye, and he nodded.
The Captain stepped forward. “Fine job, Perryn. Well done. You look exhausted and I am not surprised but we can take it from here. Get him to his master, soldier.”
“Sir! Come on Perryn.” The crossbow man helped him up and splashed some water from a bucket over his face, the remainder washing the vomit into the scuppers. He got Perryn”s arm over his shoulder and started him towards the wardroom. The door opened and Walters took over, releasing the crossbow man to go back to his duty.
