The first sighting of the pirates came in the form of an indistinct object bobbing in the sea. Straining my eyes to ascertain their numbers, I immediately sighed in relief for fortune favoured us today. The pirates had chosen the new moon for its ability to mask their attack but hadn’t considered the treacherous nature of the waves. The little boat they were on rocked vigorously in the sea, threatening to capsize at any moment. A faint hope built up inside me that the corsairs would see their end without any need for fighting today and hence no risk. The new moon would also make seeing the coastline difficult for the pirates. The capricious seas had claimed the lives of a great many men and they wouldn’t be the last. My hope came to crashing halt as they dropped their anchor and disembarked. A cursory inspection of the men atop the vessel came to nigh on twenty-five individuals.
When the pirates had finally gathered on the beach, a detailed headcount produced twenty-three individuals with two remaining on the vessel. The crew further split into three groups with one group of seven and two groups of eight. This was normal operating procedure for the pirates and it was done in an attempt to reduce the risk of ambush. The natural bottlenecks would result in the separate parties meeting up only to be attacked during the confusion that would be caused. Wordlessly signalling I passed the information about the pirate numbers and group sizes down the communication line. This would be used to coordinate the ambush and ensure no pirates were able to escape.
With the key part of my job completed, I settled down and monitored the crew passing any useful information I could gain forward. A breathless gasp escaped my lips when I looked at the weapons being carried by the crew. The life of a pirate is considered short and usually the majority of crews are filled with new recruits. These recruits are only offered basic equipment and are considered disposable by the ship owner. Proficiency in archery demands months of practise and so only veteran pirates will ever undergo training for it. Just under half of the crew members appear to be carrying a bow which increases the danger of this offensive exponentially. I signal the nearest ally and pass on the information hoping it reaches Captain Lizwi as quickly as possible.
Preoccupied with making sure the information passes along, I rotate just in time to witness the crew enter the forest in three separate location beckoning the second phase of my mission. The pirates no longer visible, I focus my concentration on my hearing attempting to separate the typical forest sounds from signs of movement. The ambush area exists directly south of my position, so I can expect at least one of the pirate units to pass below me. I grip the bow tightly in my arm and draw an arrow from my quiver. The arrow has a broad iron arrowhead intended for war as opposed to hunting. The arrow is notched onto the bow without applying any tension on the string ready to draw and release when the time is right.
A muffled crunch of leaves and snap of branches underfoot started to emanate from the northly direction. The feeling of mortal danger heightened my sense and all my awareness focused on the trees and bushes in that direction. A cautious head peered out from behind the trunk of a gnarled elderly tree. As if on a swivel, the head scanned the area cautiously attempting to see through any concealment. Content, the scout signalled the rest of the crew causing them to slowly emerge from their hiding spots. Apart from their vanguard, five other individuals appeared which instantly made me cautious. Based on the numbers I counted before they entered the forest at least one or two combatants are unaccounted for. The choice of weapon is also very telling as only two members of this group are carrying bow and arrows. This means potentially both the missing combatants are archers hence finding them will be critical to saving sea guard lives.
My breathing quietened down to a whisper and movements slowed to a crawl as the crew members passed eerily close to the tree I was on. The seconds stretch on helplessly until the crew has passed by far enough to relax. My mind immediately enters a contemplative state, attempting to anticipate where the missing combatants are. The direct effectiveness of two archers is limited and the pirates have battled the Summer Isles for centuries, hence the number of combatants we have available must be known to them. The only possibility I can think of is the archers unleashing covering fire to allow their close combat fighters to get closer. This would mean the archers have likely flanked either left or right of the ambush area to get a superior angle for the shot.
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Deep in thought, I noticed movement in a familiar tree south of my direction. The nearest guard to my position vacated the cover of the trees foliage and began noiselessly climbing down the trunk of the tree. Landing gently to the ground, he warily headed in a westly direction, presumably having calculated the most likely direction for the archer’s ambush. A soft thud later and the only exposed part of the arrow, embedded deeply in the scouts’ neck was the fletching. His body plummeted to the ground under its own weight no longer sustained by conscious thought. Blood beginning to stream out from the wound due to the collision disturbing the arrow. His mind finally having caught up with what had happened, tried to raise its arms to stem the bleeding futilely. The blood at this point had made its way down his throat and the sound of gurgling and spluttering was like agony to my ears. The taste of bile filled up my mouth having climbed up from the pits of my stomach. Gritting my teeth was the only thing I could do to prevent retching entirely.
Desperate to distract myself, I traced back the trajectory of the arrow to an unremarkable shrub north of the dying scout. Five pirates leisurely strolled out of the bush, the leading figure still holding his bow in hand. The culprit wore an ill-fitted dirt brown tunic and black mud splattered trousers, the signs of wear obvious even at a cursory look. A bristled wiry beard covering his mottled sun-burnt skin gave him a vile impression. Confidently crossing the clearing, the leader drew back his mismatched boots and delivered a powerful punt to the abdomen of the scout. The force causing him to roll over and cough out a fresh portion of blood. I clenched my hands tightly around the body of the bow, fingernails digging into my palms strong enough to draw blood. Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself that five combatants with bows is too much for me to take out. The pirate crew are evidently in hysterics at the actions of the leader, trading jokes in a language I’ve never heard before. The basilisk isles are a dreadful location where the refuse of the world gather, the product of that being a hybrid language that varies between islands. The only common features being that it is always jarring and harsh to the listener. The inhabitants of the isles mirror this as they are predominately mongrels of indistinct ancestry.
A grating shout instantly burst the pleasurable atmosphere of the pirate crew as all of the members turned towards the diminutive pirate who had been the last to depart the undergrowth. The anxiety on the faces of the pirates is clear to see so I mentally demote the bearded pirate to second in command. The demeanour with which this pirate carries himself immediately shifts to become more authoritative as if he was hiding himself when they first entered the clearing. The pirates face is covered by a cloth wrap that only exposes his eyes, adding an air of mystique to his person. Black as this new moon, his pupils threatened to engulf you like an ocean wave. Barking out orders in a distinctly higher pitch than expected, the other pirates put the scout out of his misery and immediately fall in line behind him. The pirate unit then cautiously journey southward as if on a predetermined plan.
Internally, I begin estimating the threat that this pirate unit could pose and find the result to be deeply concerning. If this unit is able to flank the ambushing party before the trap is sprung the death toll would be horrific. Two pirates would be unable to supress our archers, but five veterans under the command of a competent leader could wreak havoc on the sea guard. Another alarming point being that they are aware of scouts in the trees and waited for my ally to leave his position first. This suggests a familiarity with our methods that doesn’t bode well for this battle. Mentally connecting the dots, I recognise this unit was likely made from a minimum of one archer from each of the three pirate sub-units. The three pirate sub-crews simply being bait intended to expose the ambushing party. Communication with Captain Lizwi is impossible at the moment, so it’s up to me to save the ambushing group from complete decimation. The best chance to take out this group of pirates will come when they begin attacking the ambushing party. Though the window will be short, I must take it for any hope of saving the guards.