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> ‘Here we be sailin’ me Brethren of the Reefs. Wit fear in our belly, but valor in our hearts, to face Kraken’s mouth ‘n death’s black teeth, hopin’ to find the calm seas beyond the pale n’ comfort in noble gold’s bright gleam.’
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> ‘Grisly’ Weiss, a pirate.
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> First month of 193, somewhere in the Scalding Sea.
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Leona ‘Foxy’ Vale
Forty tons of gold
Part III
-Death came a-knocking-
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The darkening skies angry roar rattled Leona’s teeth, but it was the men working one of aftcastle’s catapults that worried her the most. She danced on the floorboards, nimble feet moving with the ship as it rocked on the increasingly bigger waves, her left eye looking through the spyglass intently.
“The Brig be turnin’ Captain!” Hook informed her, eyes wild.
“I’m aware Mister Hook!” Leona yelled hoarsely. “Keep the wind close hauled Mister Kidd!”
“KEEP. CLOSE HAULED!” Clark barked relaying her orders.
“How fast are they reloading captain?” Harold ‘Doubloon’, the leader of the detachment of Anne’s Raiders, asked her nervously working on his cheek with his teeth.
Another shot splashing a couple of hundred meters before their bow, piercing a five meter tall wave and bouncing twice on the water’s surface afore going under.
“It’s the amount of machines that worries me ‘Doubloon’!” Leona grunted going backwards with nimble steps and then returning, most experienced sailors doing the same, but for some raiders that tumbled all the way to the quarterdeck’s walls and stopped there.
“How many?” Hook rustled eyeing the enemy ships splitting up, the faster Brig swinging around, sails half-open to come at them. The larger and slower Galleass, named Ocean Harpy, also turning to port sluggishly for unknown reasons.
“Eh, two on each castle me thinks!” Leona spat. “But I think they have mounted Scorpios as well Boatswain!”
She ducked under a loose line and forced her way towards the front of the Marquette. ‘Grisly’ Weiss loitering near the forecastle deck. The Marquette had no castle there, just the floorboards afore the Bowsprit.
“Atterton be closing in Leo!” Weiss yelled, a wave splashing on the deck dousing them both from head to toe in briny waters. Leona glanced at the ‘Bouquet’ and then at the ‘Pillager’ on their starboard side, but three hundred meters away, following a parallel route with them.
“That Brig is coming for us!” Leona warned him pointing with a hand. She turned around, grabbed a raider and yelled in his face. “Tell Kidd to turn to starboard! Swing around her!”
“Her?” the young man asked unsure.
“The blasted Brig! Avoid it, we go for the big one!” Leona roared irate. “RUN DAMN YE!”
The raider nodded and sprinted towards the main mast amidships, but lost his footing right after that –the ship rocking wild, tripped on a coil of rope trying to find his balance desperately and was hurled sideways with a panicked yelp. Over the rails and into the brines.
Gods.
“Shit,” Weiss cursed seeing the man getting swallowed by the waves. “I’ll relay the order captain,” he assured a shocked Leona.
In the distance Atterton’s approaching ship was hit by a shot on the left side of its bow and another that ripped through its deck and came out its right sides. The ‘Bouquet’ groaned and creaked injured and the huge three-masted Galleass, easily twice as big as any of the other ships present with a length that looked to be a hundred meters from bow to stern and fifteen in breadth, started slowly turning its side to the rest of the pirate ships racing against the wind towards her.
Leona snapped out of it and using a line, walked on the Bowsprit, then looked through the spyglass at the exotic design ship. Not a cargoship, yer not, she murmured. Damn it.
“Avoid her broadside Mister Kidd!” She yelled and jumped down, hands and legs flaying, her hip banging the rails and a huge wave missing her for a dog’s hair. Leona run back yelling at the top of her lungs. “AVOID HER BROASIDE!”
“Blimey Leo!” Hook growled seeing her returning, waving and screaming. “That Brig is going to catch us if we turn again!”
“CLARK DO IT!” Leona barked straining her neck to look at the quarterdeck and the quartermaster. The veteran seadog gave her a nod, then shoved Kidd aside with a grimace to grab the wheel himself.
“Unfurl the main topsail! Broad reach!” Leona roared hoarsely at the sailors hanging on to the masts netting for dear life. They needed an extra oomph as that Brig was coming for them straight up. Atterton had been left behind probably and the worsening weather and vapors made it difficult to see your opponent. You could for a minute that is, but then you also lost him for five straight and while it seemed this was not much time, a lot could happen in five minutes.
“It’ll bent us down to the waves!” Troy warned her from above and Hook grabbed the spyglass from her to look for himself what had her so spooked.
His baritone growl coming not a second later.
“UNFURL THE TOPSAIL YE BILGE-SUCKING RATS!” Hook boomed, his strained grimace distorting his weathered face so much it turned into a weird grin.
The Brig gained on them in no time as the Marquette swung away from the slowly turning with the help of its extended oars Ocean Harpy. The large Galleass looking like a gigantic insect that had landed on the frothing waves, its many legs trying to propel it back to a distant shore.
Abrakas salted shite! Leona cursed eyeing the approaching Brig coming from their starboard side to cut them off, then at the turning Galleass on their port.
“Mister Doubloon, get ‘em blades out!” Leona ordered hoarsely, her hands shaking. She spat down, looked about her with gawking eyes and seeing as Hook was closer reached in his loose open shirt with a wet hand.
“Leo… allgods,” Hook gasped recoiling. “I’ve always thought of it, but tis the worst timin’ me lass!”
“Keep it in yer pants Mister Hook,” Leona advised him, her throat hurting and got the veteran seadog’s metallic flask out of its hiding place. Hook had it tied with a cord around his torso. She ripped the cork out with her teeth and glugged down its contents with a thirst fueled by fear. The liquid tasting of smoke and caramel.
Black Whiskey.
“Eh,” Hook grunted a little disappointed and she tossed him the empty flask, a gleam in her eye.
“Let’s get through dis,” Leona promised him. “And I’ll let ye return the favor Bristol!”
“BRIG CLOSING IN!” Troy warned with a yelp. “THIRTY METERS!”
The skies roaring above them, rain pouring down harshly for a moment, stopping the next and despite all the humidity and the valleys of water surrounding them, the atmosphere was uncannily hot. It hurt your lungs to breathe.
Leona burped, the strong alcohol vapors coming back up her gullet and reached for her cutlass, Wil who was keeping an eye on the other side of their ship responding to his brother’s call with one of his own.
“SWING THE MAIN BOOM! HELM TO PORT!”
“What is that Knave be talking about?” Hook grunted and run the breadth of the ship to see for himself.
“CORSAIR BE COMING!” Wil yelled dangling from a rope above their heads.
Leona snatched the spyglass away from a stunned Hook watching the Corsair’s Gold cutting in front their bow nimbly and moving twice as fast as them. She scanned the deck of the familiar mustard-colored ship and spotted ‘Yellow’ Dawson waving his hat at her. The veteran pointed at the Galleass, slotted his right fist into the hat and gave her wink.
“Dawson’s goin’ to tie her up,” Leona gasped in horror.
The Brig was her meaning.
“Wit dis kind o’ weather?” Hook grunted not believing it. “It’s blasting north to south, it’ll drag them in ‘em deeps!”
“KEEP THE HELM STEADY CLARK!” Leona barked with a croak and rushed to the quarterdeck without answering him. They had to get near the Ocean Harpy, else the warship’s siege weapons would sink them to Abrakas Gullet.
Far as Leona was concerned the sea was deep enough right where they were.
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The Corsair’s Gold crashed on the sides of the incoming Brig and shoved it away from the larger Barque. Lines with hooks at their ends tossed over immediately and the two ships hugging with a distressing outburst of creaks and bangs. Sails mixing up together, masts bending and snapping, the ships rigging getting all tangled up.
“Steady!” Leona croaked keeping her eyes on the approaching Galleass. It had turned broadside to fire with all its Scorpios –eight on each side- and catapults –two of those per- but the Marquette had dodged it and came at it from the bow. Leona’s ship had also slowed down as they were going against the strong winds, but be that as it may we are going to get there.
“They are aiming the forecastle’s catapults!” Doubloon informed them, his face pale. Everyone could see that.
“BRACE YERSELVES!” Hook roared, as unhelpful an order he could give as speed wasn’t their problem, or the lack of place to hold on to. Cover we be lacking, Leona thought, but sometimes you have to say something to steel a man’s, or woman’s spine.
“Here we be sailin’ me Brethren of the Reefs. Wit fear in our belly, but valor in our hearts,” Weiss murmured reverently next to her, his axe in hand. “To face Kraken’s mouth ‘n death’s black teeth, hopin’ to find the calm seas beyond the pale n’ comfort in noble gold’s bright gleam.”
His words all but moving a tensed, snarling Leona to tears.
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The lead sphere –as big as a sweet melon- ripped through the Marquette’s fore deck, planks exploding outwards and sharp splinters killing a raider afore the shot squashed his chest and hurled him back ten meters.
Leona ducked for the soaked floorboards, the second catapult shot hitting the foremast, then broke through the main deck and stopped at the keel of the Barque. Men yelping out of the way to protect themselves when the mast creaked, then snapped and toppled over their port side, dragging sailors, sails and rigging with it into the sea.
“Cut the lines!” Bristol Hook barked, his voice strained. Leona got up and run to the starboard side, yelling for the raiders to gather there. They needed to board the Ocean Harpy and neutralize her machines, else the next volley coming would be fatal.
“Get ‘em grappling hooks ready!” Leona yelled hoarsely. “We jump as soon as we have the angle. Don’t be waiting for the perfect moment. Them scorpions be firin’ on us at point blank gents!”
She reached with a shaky hand and wrapped a hemp rope around her left forearm, started working on swinging the hooked part of the line over her head with the other, like most of those near her. Wil and his brother doing the same from their elevated posts. Wil had managed an impossible escape going from one mast to the other, saving his life.
Gods be watching… eh, whatever.
Tried to think of something else to steel her nerves, but Leona couldn’t even speak for a moment.
“They can’t fire the catapults!” Clark informed her, sliding down the staircase using the rails.
The Marquette was slowly coming closer to the Galleass sides, breaking the oars that some of her crew used to keep them away. Leona could see those manning the mounted at the sides machines clearly now. Those heavy bolts aimed at them.
Abrakas salted cock!
“NOW!” Leona barked and hurled the grappling hook at the larger ship’s side netting. She yanked at it once and it moved aside afore stopping, possibly for good, or not, but she had run out of time. “OVER IT!”
The young captain croaked, her heart lodged in her throat and swung one foot over the rails, used the other to propel her over the three meter gap, just as the Scorpios started firing one after the other.
THUMP
WHOOSH
“AARRGGH!” Leona screamed hysterically, since there was no reason not to do it, what with dangling over the angry waves, two meter long iron bolts zipping under your flaying legs.
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The screaming captain flew over the desperately trying to reload engineers manning the machines, hit the netting with her left shoulder, something popping out with a crack, let go of the rope twirling in the air and crashed on a man holding an axe.
They both went down, Leona using the man’s body for cushion, the Lesia sailor not that bothered, as he’d cracked open his forehead with the butt of his axe.
Come to think of it, the heavily bleeding sailor probably hadn’t felt a thing.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Ugh, almost.
Leona groaned and rolled to the side, smacked her shoulder on a meter high coil of thick rope, groan turning to a squeal of pain at the new crack and tried to stand up on shaky legs. Raiders landing all over her, the Marquette’s sides no more than three meters away appearing gutted and dozens of people laying dead and on their way there all over her main deck.
Shite!
She hefted her blade and charged at the engineers. The closest to her turned holding the heavy bolt he carried to use it as a spear. Leona flinched away from the sharp tip and slashed him across the arm. The cut bleeding down freely.
“Give up!” She urged the injured Lorian, but he slotted the bolt under his armpit and came at her again. Leona cursed, adrenalin flooding her veins and dodged right to get at his unprotected side. The man dodged away lithely as well, a surprise, Leona slipped in the briny deckboards, an even nastier surprise and the bolt came at her again with a shriek.
It caught the faltering forward snarling Leona right at the left ribs, at least one cracking audibly against the iron shaft and hurled her like a ragdoll onto a loaded Scorpio. The darn thing rotating on its fixed base, when she clasped at it to stop her momentum with a groan. Leona swung around, the Scorpio turning inwards, her back hitting the rails with a bang and she slapped at the lever releasing the bolt.
“Oh, cat pissed in me rum!” She cursed a moment later, Hook pulling her up with a yank of her hurt arm. “Did I get him?” Leona hissed with a grimace of pain, trying to orientate herself through it. A savage scrap was unfolding all about them.
“Huh? Ye hit the main sail Captain,” Hook replied, a cut on his cheek bleeding, but missing no more body parts. “Don’t know where it went after that.”
Ugh, bugger then.
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They had managed to push back the mercenaries defending the Galleass’ port side and the raiders and crew that had made it across were regrouping to assault the men coming down from the aft and fore castle. These were armoured marine type fighters, wearing heavy leather and mail cuirasses, armed with swords and harpoons. A group of crossbowmen had gathered at the aftcastle’s first floor terrace to fire at them over their colleagues.
“Van Fleet is attacking starboard side captain!” Doubloon yelled, the sound of Scorpios firing their lethal projectiles clearly heard coming from across the deck along the clash of men, despite the roaring winds that pushed the damaged ships south. The waves reaching as high as the Ocean Harpy’s deck.
“Leave Fleet!” Leona yelled and looked about for her hat she’d lost in the scuffle. “We charge them reinforcements lest they be catching us in the middle!” She added and waved her sword to get the attention of the men. “TO THE BITTER END MISTER HARROLD!” Leona added and pointed at the looming in the distance ship tower and the men pouring down its stairs.
“Darn it all to Oras hells!” Harrold cursed and started yelling at his raiders to attack the coming mercenary marines. The first bolts landing around them, striking men, rigging and the deck with no particular preference.
Leona turned and run to the rails, stabbed her sword down and boomed at the sailors still loitering on the deck of the Marquette. “ALL ABOARD COME ACROSS CLARK!”
“You’re leaving the ship?” ‘Blunder’ Hook queried giving her the sword back.
“If we don’t win dis,” Leona replied through her teeth, each breath hurting her innards. “They are dead either way Mister Bristol!”
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Leona ducked under a thrown harpoon, the steel tip hitting the main mast behind her and then slid on the wet deck, stabbed a burly Lesia sailor in the gut. The blade sinking in the soft flesh, through cloth and getting stuck somewhere as she went past him. She cursed and let go of it, reached for a flat-bladed dagger and got it out, but the heavily injured man punched her in the chest right at the heart –fat bronze ring on his finger doing the most damage and her fingers turned numb dropping it. Almost popped her left tit out completely and turned it a nasty purple color that all but matched her shirt.
“GAARH!” She gurgled stumbling backwards. The pain blinding, vomit in her throat tasting of whiskey and broccoli. The sailor grunted, a foot of creamy intestines hanging out of his torn belly and came at her again, but was stopped with a savage cleave by a heavy… well that be a cleaver, wielded by none other than ‘Salty’ Reed. Van Fleet’s second in command and right hand man. Mutiny Carter rolling next to her the next moment.
“Leave her,” Reed rustled pitilessly and forced Leona to her feet himself with brute force. “See to the captain!”
Mutiny nodded and danced out of focus, the fighting now spread to Ocean Harpy’s whole deck almost, with two pirate crews trying to overcome the reinforcements coming from the two towers.
“Mister Reed,” Leona groaned, shoving her mauled breast flesh back into her shirt. “Yer a sight for sore eyes.”
He really wasn’t. ‘Salty’ was a hard-faced weather beaten thug that Fleet used as his enforcer and punisher/torturer. Word was he’d given ‘Blackmane’ Quint his chest tattoos as punishment for doing the dirty with a port harlot.
Leona had been too busy to learn more and didn’t much care about Quint either way.
“Get yer men moving Vale,” Reed spat snapping her out of her pain and alcohol induced reverie. “Fleet will attack the forecastle. Ye need to get up there, else they’ll fire more bolts at us.”
“What bolts?” Leona croaked and got her bloody sword out of the butchered sailor. Plenty of gore covering the deck, despite the water splashing over it.
“They have a couple of ‘em bolt throwers up there!” Reed roared and grabbed her elbow to pull her away from the masts to show her. Scores of men –and a few women- were lined at the corridor left near the edges of the large warship, some missing a leg or an arm, severed limbs tossed here and there, a couple of torsos with no limbs at all in the mix as well. One of them still screaming.
Leona gulped down and flinched at the sound of iron bolts zipping down from the aftcastle not a moment later and ripping through Van Fleet’s -still gathering to assault the front of the ship- crew.
“NOW VALE!” Reed barked and Leona sprung to action. She dashed on shaky legs towards the smashed by the Pillager’s assault starboard wooden rails of Ocean’s Harpy, found a line dangling from the mizzen mast and looped it around her left arm.
“Leo! Where away?” Young Wil asked, seeing her jumping the steps leading to the raised quarterdeck alike a mountain goat.
“After her boy!” ‘Weasel’ Clark grunted and shoved him forward, following after him as fast as he could on old legs. Leona glanced back as she run the bombarded slippery deckboards, jumping over torn sails, collapsed rigging, broken beams and drenched corpses, saw ‘Salty’ Reed coming after her with a determined look on his face and grimaced. Her eyes returned forward, the line she was carrying turning taut and with a sigh, Leona cut hard right towards the sea and sprinted as fast as she could. A breath and her body went over the lip of the ship’s sides, the dark angry ocean groaning underneath her feet, black as a Kraken’s mouth. The line arching afore turning rigid and yanking her back towards the ship, Leona letting her body loose to make as wide a loop as possible.
She prayed for height and velocity.
“What in allhells?” Reed was heard cursing seeing Leona’s deadly acrobatics from up close.
Dead menfolk convey no tall tales, she thought, a manic desperate snarl on her distorted half-breed face, whislt flying with insane speed towards the four story monstrous aftcastle. See to survive to convey mine ‘Salty’.
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Leona right boot caught the lip of the rails after she let go of the line and she plunged on the aftcastle’s top deck head first. She planted her forehead in the groin of a cursing officer directing the men reloading the Scorpios, the edge of the plate he was wearing splitting her skin from eye to eye, just above both brows.
The man doubled over, curse cut short, Leona going through his spread legs next toppling him on top of her. She scrapped the briny deck, twisting around like a tigress caught in a trap, her heel catching the man’s jaw in a blind backwards kick.
“Errgh!” The officer gurgled, trying to pick his severed tongue from the deck, as Leona jumped to her feet breathing heavy, to spot an ever growing Reed flying in the air just behind the officer. He let go of the rope, went over the rails with ease -calmly gathering his legs and cleaved the top of the stooped, still searching for his tongue man, when he landed without a scratch.
Eh.
“Get the loaders!” Reed spat hoarsely and hurled his custom made long-bladed cleave to one of the sergeants, probably the crew working the catapults earlier.
Leona nodded and turned to attack the sailors near the mounted Scorpios, almost getting herself impaled in a harpoon one of them managed to pick up. She put a hand on the shaft to direct it away, the steel blade tearing at her drenched coat –her only coat- and then jerking her hard right, when the man attempted to dislodge it. Leona stabbed him in the neck once forcing the sailor to let go of the harpoon to stop the bleeding.
The torrent of blood getting in her mouth, as she was caught like an inexperienced wench working a flesh rod for the first time.
“Ugh!” Leona retched and faltered on the next man working the machine. The young Lorian turned, recoiled at the sight of her bloody face and instead of standing still for Leona to stab him like his friend, he ducked under her clumsy effort and kicked her in the crotch.
Right amidships and she’d clenched in her panic stopping it at the entrance.
“Moth’r… fuck’r,” Leona groaned, slashing at the blind and missing everything. She staggered, the Lorian went to punch her and she raised her left hand irate not wanting another swollen tit to match her blackened cunt. Her foolish intention to grab his fist and stop him.
Not checking whether the man was holding anything in his fist.
The knife’s blade opening her palm right between mid and ring finger, stopping at the bone joint.
“GAARGLHH!” She screamed and yanked her butchered hand back, retaliating with a brutal hack of her sword that caught the lunging at her again sailor on the left ear. The blade cutting to the cranium and cracking it.
The sailor stumbled and dropped to his knees, eyes turned to the white and she did the same, trying to stop the bleeding at her hand. Leona ripped her scarf from her head and tied it feverishly around the two dangling parts as tight as she could, feeling she was about to lose consciousness. Reed’s harsh voice bringing her back.
“The kid is dead,” he informed her pointing at a glassy eyed Wil Jones. “Caught a harpoon wit his neck. You need to man the bolt thrower Vale. Just pull the lever.”
“Uhm,” a pale faced Leona nodded, her ears ringing and hurting from too many spots to care, other than the hand that is. The agony coming from her mauled limb excruciating. “Aim where?”
“Their crossbows first, then their backs,” Reed replied with a leer. “Might kill a couple of more of yer crew as well.”
“Kiss me arse Mister Reed!” Leona snapped angry and glared at him.
“There ye fuckin’ go,” he replied with a satisfied nod. “Get to the machine Vale. We don’t have much time.”
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‘Blunder’ Hook managed to break through the staggered lines of Lesia marines after the second shot a scowling Leona managed to send into their ranks. Men hurled right and left, the bolts ripping through two, or three at a time, bodies tumbling forward and onto her men’s spears, harpoons and axes. The brutal struggle fought without quarters and quickly turning into a pitiless butchering.
An injured Clark got hacked in the chest during the chaos, right before the breakthrough occurred and went down as well and she cried hoarsely, adrenalin and pain the only thing keeping her upright.
Hook who surprisingly given his track record was unharmed stooped over the exhausted Leona half an hour later and touched her softly at the shoulder.
“Doubloon is moving to assist Van Fleet’s men,” he informed her with a glance at the corpse of young Wil Jones. “Troy is well at least.”
“I fail to see how that will help him,” Leona croaked and tried to get up with his help. It was an ordeal.
“Better to mourn, than keep company to Abrakas kin,” he rustled emotionally. “We might win this Leo.”
“How’s Van Fleet?”
“Lost a leg to a bolt, but they patched him up,” Reed replied which probably sounded much better than it was, himself sporting a cut on his neck. “Atterton’s ship is gone and Dawson got sucked in ‘em deeps of the South by the winds,” he looked at her sternly. “We’re about to have the same fate Vale.”
“Can we take the forecastle?” Leona hissed and stumbled to the edge of the sterncastle deck to see for herself. The large ship appearing bombarded, but the Marquette still tied on her, looked even worse.
“Need to cut her loose captain,” Hook informed her. “She’s taking on water and will drag us down the bottom.”
“The Pillager?”
“Better, but not by much,” Reed replied.
Leona nodded, her jaw hurting for some reason and she’d a sticky crust over her brows that still leaked blood down her face.
“Finish taking the forecastle. Ask them to surrender,” she murmured and coughed to clear her throat.
“It’s a trip down Abrakas Gullet for ‘em Vale,” Reed countered starkly and Leona grimaced, but she’d no strength to argue with him.
“Weiss?” she croaked, thinking of her lost friends.
“He’s fine. Losing Clark though hit him hard lass,” Hook said and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Yer father would be darn proud of ye,” he added, but a sniffling Leona stopped him with a grunt.
“We’re still between the Devil and the blue sea Mister Hook,” she countered hoarsely. “And have a fear Death came a-knocking for us and ain’t goin’ away anytime soon.”
The dark angry skies over their heads roaring, the huge waves pushing the tangled ships further away towards the vastness of the ocean.
Where they still drifting south? Leona didn’t know. They were heading away from the reefs for a day for sure by now. In the distance waterspouts could be seen rising out of the black brines and shot straight for the clouds. Too many too count.
Her eyes returned on the deck and she spotted men breaking open the hatches leading to the ship’s cargo holds. The first iron reinforced chests swiftly coming up. One of them hammered open already, the glint of gold coins flashing before her eyes, illuminated by lightings. A small fortune spilling out on the gore covered deckboards and scooped up by the cheering men.
She went to stop them, but ‘Salty’ Reed put an arm on her hurting chest and she recoiled away with a curse.
“We need to get the gold out Vale,” he rustled in his baritone and Leona went to answer, but spotted Mutiny standing next to him, a bloody cutlass in her hand and a deep frown on her face.
“Fleet’s orders,” Mutiny informed her. “We’ll load the Pillager up. Twenty large chests shall fuel Anne’s plans nicely.”
All others shares be damned.
“What about the injured? The Marquette’s crew and the raiders?”
“We’ll take the raiders, not the injured, but that’s just about it,” Reed informed her. “Fleet gave me command. It’s my call Vale.”
“Most will be saved Leona,” Mutiny assured her. “And think of the gold. Enough to make a difference, if we keep our mouths shut and we will.”
Leona shook her head, some of her bleached white curls dancing over her strained, bloody face.
“They won’t make it anyway crowded on the deck and the Pillager is hurt badly. More could topple her and kill us all,” Reed elucidated and showed her the chaos around them. “We can’t steer this monstrosity Vale.”
“How many are injured?” Leona asked hoarsely.
“Thirty, some won’t last the next hour Leo,” Hook replied.
“How many of our crew remain?”
“Just over twenty… captain we can’t do this,” Hook told her worried at her expression.
“I can’t let it go,” Leona snarled clenching her jaw stubbornly. “I’ll stay,” she decided.
Reed stood back with a raise of his brows. “We cut both ships off of her, Marquette sinks and this shite will catapult wit the winds. Half the sails are rogue, the rigging messed up Vale. You’ll drift to nowhere. ‘Yellow’ risked it for a chance at the gold and we got something out of it, you’re throwing yer life away for nothing.”
Never let go.
“Finish up soon Mister Reed,” Leona grunted, a determined look on her face. “See the men back safely.”
Reed nodded and glanced at Mutiny. “Hook?” he asked next looking at the frowned veteran.
“Ye go ahead ‘Salty’,” Hook replied raspingly. “I be stayin’ wit the captain.”
“Bristol, ye darn fool,” Leona protested emotionally. “Get on that darn boat!”
“I trust ye more than dis fool captain,” Hook argued. Reed sighed pensively, shook his head right and left and then walked away grabbing an unsure Carter’s elbow to drag her along.
“What about the others?” Leona asked, her mouth numb and her lips white from the brines.
“Troy’s right there,” Hook replied and pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the mourning young sailor. “Nobody be leavin’ ‘Sly’ Elrad’s daughter stranded lass.”
Leona gulped down and stared at the chests of gold getting carried over to the Pillager, the sound of fighting still coming from the faraway forecastle. The cargo holds packed so tightly with it, the reason the ship was so darn unwieldly in its maneuvers. The fortune the pirates were looting just scooping from the top of an iceberg.
“How much gold is in there?” she croaked, holding on to her throbbing hand that was bleeding through her headscarf.
‘Blunder’ Hook smacked his lips thoughtfully for a moment, then said in a sober voice.
“Forty tons at least me dear lass. Never seen the like.”
Technically he still hadn’t seen it, as most of the gold coins remained inside Ocean Harpy’s cargo holds and there was a good chance she was due for the bottom of the ocean, unless the weather cleared and allowed them to patch her up.
As if on que the rain stopped, but another wind came from the east to wrestle with the north breeze that pushed them deeper to the Scalding Sea’s notorious distant shores and deadly waterspouts as it had for the hapless Dawson hours earlier, the new current altering their course for another equally distant and equally alien land.
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read it at Royalroad : https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/46739/touch-o-luck-the-old-realms
& https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/47919/lure-o-war-the-old-realms
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& https://www.scribblehub.com/series/547709/the-old-realms/