Rai was sleeping when things went about as bad as four-week-old ham in a puddle of piss. There was limited space on the boat, and Rai didn’t much care for the company of the other inhabitants of the boat. Big-man was brooding again, Sailor-man and Lordling were chatting about things they thought him too young to hear about(women primarily, if he was any judge), and Mute and Natalia were quietly enjoying each other’s company, and not looking to have it disturbed by him or anyone else. That left the servants, Sword-woman, and The Fool. Since the other servants had a tendency to avoid him, and Sword-woman was liable to flirt with him for sport, which he didn’t much care for, and as for The Fool… well, frankly, Rai didn’t trust himself not to wring the man’s neck.
So, Rai was lying atop the taut stretched canvas that made a pavilion on the roof of the cabins, where the servants rested. He stretched with a groan and put his hand behind his head. Rai was enjoying this little rest, and rightly so as he saw it. Aye, far too soon, they would put ashore, and he’d have to start pretending to be ‘a proper young manservant’, as Big-man put it. Big-man insisted that it was important that they maintain the appearance of the concerns typical of a young commoner knight. Propriety, politeness, and caring about both. Rai wasn’t much for caring about any of those things, and he and everybody else knew it, but he would do his best, for Big-man and Mute’s sake, if nothing else.
The sounds of shouts and steel snapped Rai out of his thought process, sending him rolling reflexively to the left and grabbing his Jitte that was laying on the canvas next to him. He popped his disfigured face up to examine his surroundings. As soon as he saw what was happening, he cursed and flattened himself against the thick canvas without hesitation. There were at least thirty men boarding the ship, all well-armed, well-armored, and well-trained, by the look of things.
Well ain’t this just as pretty as my face in a broken mirror. He thought sardonically.
Rai did a quick scan, trying to find everyone in his crew, locating most of them on the starboard side of the barge, quickly being overtaken by a larger group of ten soldiers, and he spotted Big-man at the bow, five attackers encroaching on his position, weaving their way through the maze of crates. Rai swore quietly, but made his choice. He would go for Mute. Big-man could take care of himself, but mute was another story all together. Rai was under no illusions that he was the best older brother in the world. Hell, he probably wasn’t even the best big brother in a 1-mile radius, but he knew one thing as sure as his name was Rai Half-head. He was not, going to let his baby sister die. That had been his code from the day that he ran into a burning building at the age of five to pull her out of her cradle, it had been his purpose since Quick-Finger Jenny pulled him out of the Dupandover, half-drowned and burned halfway to hell as he was. It had been his reason for living for as long as he could remember, and he wasn’t about to give it up now. He might let Big-man kick the arse of any man fool enough to try and hurt Mute, but Rai would be damned if he just stood by and let something happen.
He rolled off the side of the pavilion and landed as quietly as he could manage, before immediately springing into the shadows of a large barrel to avoid any questing eyes. He peeked again and inhaled deeply through his nose, cupping his ear as he did so. Rai was blind in his left eye, and he had long since learned that he had to use his other senses to gain what advantage he could. Metal rang, and the smells of blood and shite filled the air, a smell that Rai was well familiar with. There was enough blood running through the streets of the lower docks to keep five gluttonous vampires stuffed to the brim for three decades or more, and the shite outdid the blood by at least half. It was the smell of death and pain. To his surprise, he actually gagged. He hadn’t been this surrounded by the miasma in nearly five years, since he first reported ‘The Undertaker’ to Boss-Lady, then been pulled off the streets by Big-man the next day. Aye it had been a minute or two, but Rai thought he was made of sterner stuff than that.
“Damn Half-head,” he whispered, “Yer getting’ as maudlin as a fat old whore.” He took in the center dock, and immediately wished for someone to just kill him then. It would make everything so much easier that way. Mute and Natalia were huddled behind a pitifully thin defensive line consisting of Red-Cap, Sailor-man, Sword-woman, and Lordling. Sailor-man and Red-Cap were taking the brunt of the damage currently, while Lordling and Sword-woman were filling in the gaps where they could, but it was a losing battle, Rai could tell. The attacking crew were all wearing armor, while no one on the Barge aside from Big-man was in any form of truly protective garment. In addition, there were currently ten attackers to the four defenders on that side of the ship, and that number was only going to grow as the chaos in other areas of the ship died down. In fact, Rai couldn’t figure out for the life of him how they were even still standing. He took a moment to breathe deeply, calming the nerves that were trying to surge up, closing his eyes for a second before reopening them, re-centering himself.
Okay, Half-head, he thought, and the world seemed to slow slightly around him, If I be a crew-boss, and I got all me marks between a big-arse hammer, and an anvil, but I don’t crush them tae dust, what be me reason, eh?
Rai watched, dispassionately detached as Lordling took a deep gash to the arm and had to retreat even further, putting more pressure on his comrades. Rai watched stoically, seeming to be without emotion, as the attackers pressed that advantage for all it was worth, pushing his friends back one step at a time.
Well, it seems tae me that the only reasonable explanation, is ye be looking fer something ye can squeeze, tae make yer mark hurt. In that case, ye’d nae want tae be killin’ tae many of ‘em , ‘cause then ye don’t be having anything tae squeeze.
A wrinkle appeared in his theory less than a second later, when one of the soldiers gifted Sailor-man with a second smile across his throat, leaving Red-Cap with seven soldiers to contend with, not counting the three that were running up to join them, swelling their numbers back to ten.
Damn, Rai swore internally, I liked Sailor-man.
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Old instincts didn’t let him take the thought much further than that though, immediately redirecting his attention towards more immediate concerns. Say what you would about street life, but seeing your best friend’s brains introduced to the pavement of Drouden Alley when you were little more than seven did wonders for your ability to cope with the sight of death. Rai dropped the rest of the way to the deck, Jitte slipping silently into his hand as he went, as he heard Natalia shout.
“Caj, help! Help! They killed Lewis!” Natalia’s voice didn’t sound panicked so much as insistent, but Rai felt that she was in for a rude awakening. Caj was probably still tangling with the five men at the front of the barge. That space was pretty cramped with all of the stacked wooden crates, and was less than ideal for a sword wielder, meaning he was probably still occupied. Red-Cap and Sword-woman were quickly being pushed back, and Lordling wasn’t being of much use; apparently that cut to the arm nicked something important. Even if Big-man was finished with his dancing partners, he wasn’t liable to get up here fast enough to help, which left Rai.
He was about to do something incredibly foolish, like charge in and probably get his head chopped off, but that was fine. As long as one of the bastards tripped over his ugly decapitated mug and fell to their demise, he would be satisfied with his contribution to this battle. Before he could charge to his doom, however, he heard a roar that cut him short, and brought a twisted grin to his burned face. The Undertaker was here.
He came hurtling out from behind a stack of crates, covered in blood, and swinging and thrusting with his sword with all the fury that a hurricane wields wind. In a matter of seconds, the ten combatants became eight, then seven, as Big-man sent his sword, accompanied by an enemy soldier over the side of the boat, to be swept away by the current and downriver. Big-man turned chest heaving as he drew his short-sword and dagger. Rai saw he was weeping blood, and swore. He was reasonably certain that wasn’t healthy, and probably didn’t do any favors for Big-man’s combat ability. Rai cursed, then cursed again. He cursed a third time for good measure. It helped with his nerves.
Big-man was good, but he wasn’t good enough to keep that up, he probably only had a minute or so of fight left in him, and that wasn’t enough. Plus, he had lost the reach of his longsword, and now only had the short-sword and dagger. He was done for. That was the truth of it, sure as the sky was blue, water was wet, and the lower docks were a bad place to be at night.
Rai gripped his Jitte tight, and checked the straps on his hook. His shield was unfortunately in the hold of the ship, so he would have to do without it. Rai was under no impression that he would do much in the fight. After all, Red-Cap, Lordling, and Sword-woman were outmatched by the numbers. Hell, Sailorman had died. Rai pushed his mind away from that. It wasn’t constructive to think about at the moment. There weren’t many rules to living in the streets of Goldstern, but one was that you stuck with your crew, no matter what. Plus, Mute was in there, and he’d be damned if he didn’t at least get her out. He started forward, but his movement caught Big-man’s eye. The blood-soaked warrior shouted across the deck to him.
“No, Rai! Run and get help, I’ve got Emma!” Rai hesitated, and a note of commanding fury entered Big-man’s voice, transforming him well and truly into the Undertaker. The weeping blood really did wonders for the man’s fear factor. “Go! Now!”
Rai stayed still for less than a second before bolting towards the back of the boat swearing to the reaper above that he would be back for them, no matter what. As he hurtled around the corner of the cabins, he came upon an unexpected sight.
The Fool, in clothes crumpled by bed linens and eyes still filled with sleepiness, was there, pig-sticker in hand, a look of fierce concentration on his face despite his obviously sleep-addled mind. By Rai’s estimation, the idiot was about to get himself killed. He stood facing six men, although only three of them were able to attack freely, as the rest were encumbered by barge-poles, holding the vessel away from the rapids. Rai looked between the young lord and the side of the vessel. He knew what the wise choice was. One person was a lot easier to hide than two, and with any luck, he would be forgotten in the chaos. He took two steps towards the barge-rail, before seeing both Mute’s and Big-man’s disapproving stares in his mind. He swore under his breath.
“Threshing Hells.” He turned back to the sight that was about to unfold. Patrick had only just been spotted, so conflict hadn’t broken out just yet. “Damn ye tae hell Big-man.” He muttered, “Ye had tae go an’ make me all maudlin like didn’t ye.” He sighed, and braced himself to make an unwise choice.
His hook caught the collar at the back of Fool’s coat, yanking the man off balance and pulling him past the two guards he had been charging. There was a moment of confused silence from everyone present, shocked by Rai’s presence. Rai took advantage of the momentary surprise, taking the time to crack one of the guards’ knees and hook him with the curved cross-guard of the Jitte, pulling him into the path of his approaching compatriot, who was stupid enough to have taken off his helmet. Rai graced the man with a bloody knot in the center of his forehead, it probably wouldn’t kill the man, but it was enough to knock him out. As soon as he did it, he knew it was a mistake. He should’ve just run with Patrick. The sound of feet stomping behind him signaled the approach of an attacker, and he wasn’t going to be fast enough to block it, damn it all.
As He spun around, desperately raising his Jitte in a blind block, there was a clang and the vibrato of a spring, and a sudden weight impacted his hand. Rai half expected to see his arm missing as he completed the turn, but instead he saw the impossible. Patrick was positioned at his side, Rai’s hook still firmly embedded in his coat’s collar. In the young lord’s hands, his rapier was vibrating violently. At the end of Rai’s arm was one of the soldiers, impaled eye-first on the end of his Jitte. The bloody deck planks told the story for the five witnesses, momentarily struck dumb. The Fool had blocked a strike that would no doubt have killed Rai, by using his rapier like it was an axe to shove the now one-eyed soldier to the side, putting both of them far off balance, but speeding Rai’s turn, as he was attached to Patrick’s collar. It was an utterly stupid move that should’ve left him open for a return strike, but instead, somehow, Rai’s Jitte had lined up just perfectly to become lodged in the attacker’s eye.
And that… well, that be what we call ‘divine intervention’. Rai thought sardonically. He sniffed. Then, the moment was gone. Rai kicked the soldier off the end of his Jitte, and bolted. Running away was something that was rather well taught on the streets of Goldstern. Rai was a little out of practice, true, but if he couldn’t do better than a couple of guards, then his name wasn’t Rai Half-head. On their way out, Rai took the time to break the arm of the last man, who was still staring in shock at the body of his companion. Then, Rai Half-head and Fool were over the side, and away.
As they bobbed in the water, quickly being swept away by the river, Half-head made a promise to himself. Rai had stayed on that barge, and his spirit had been taken along with Big-man and Mute. They weren’t dealing with a crippled child now, or some quaint knight’s manservant. They were dealing with Half-head. And he would make the men that took his sister and Big-man wish that he was just the monster that his melted face made him look like. He would be back dammit.