CHAPTER 10: CANNON IN D MAJOR
After the all hands on deck meeting, which added up to only 8 pairs of hands including himself, Dantes was following Harq around. Apparently, Captain Crow expected to run into trouble around dawn, which left them a scant few hours to prepare. In Dantes’ case, he was learning how to use the cannons, though Harq probably wasn’t the best teacher.
“We have 12 guns a side. 11 heavy cannons and 1 swivel at the front.” He gestured to them as he spoke. “Your job is reloading.”
“Who’s firing? Also, I thought ships had more people.”
Harq shook his head. “Enchantments replace most of the labour. Like firing cannons. Powder is over here, cannonballs next to the cannons. These ones are explosive, those are ward piercing. Reload like this.” The man demonstrated how to load the cannon quickly, once. “You load the others.”
The man wasn’t unfriendly, but he obviously didn’t like talking much either. He’d also made loading the cannon look easier than it was, which became apparent to Dantes as he fumbled with the long stick to push the powder into the barrel. As he worked on the others, Harq would point out to various parts of the ship naming them.
“Fore is front, aft is back, starboard is right, port is left. If we’re hit, you’ll be pumping. Pump is in the hold, wood and nails too.” The man rattled off some more parts of the ship, but cut off after a couple minutes.
“That’s everything for now. I’ve loaded the other side already. Small guns here. More precise. Load the same way.” With that, the man sat down next to a barrel of apples and closed his eyes.
Now without anything to do, Dantes wandered about, noting the excellently maintained deck, no loose ropes out of place or empty boxes lying around. Hearing a voice, he turned, and approached the captain who’d called out to him.
“It will be a rough first day, I suspect, but welcome aboard, Dantes. We’re a small crew, but we’re close. You said you have no experience sailing, right? Here. Take the wheel.” Captain Crow stepped off to the side and indicated where he should put his hands. “We don’t normally grow our crew, but we could use the extra help for now, and Randall has a good eye for people. Hasn’t been wrong yet at least.”
At the helm, Dantes felt the wind blow through his hair, the endless horizon opening up as though inviting him to travel to its beyond. It was a freedom he had never known before, nor imagined possible. There were no walls and no chains. Here, he felt as though he was the master of his own future, wherever that might lead. He could feel the tension in the sheets and the water parting before the prow as though it were an extension of himself.
“Nothing quite like it is there? Before me, my father captained this ship, and his father before him and his father’s father before him. He told me that it was given to his grandfather’s grandfather’s grandfather as part of a wish.”
“How’d that happen?”
“It’s a bit of a story. My ancestor,” he began, “was Whitmore Crowley, a captain, newly promoted after the previous captain and first mate died in some battle. The ship was badly battered, and though the leaking was stopped, a storm brewed. The lookout spotted a man, clinging to driftwood far upwind, but if they went to get him, it would bring them dangerously close to the storm. Knowing the crew would mutiny then and there if he turned the ship, he and his closest friend took the rowboat to save the man while their ship sailed into the distance the other way. Foolish, yes, but that was what he was like. They dragged the man into the boat, and were mercilessly tossed by the storm for days. Eventually, they came across a trader, who brought them to port. The man, it turned out, was an extremely powerful mage, and voyager. He bestowed upon the merchant a gift of great wealth. To my many great grandfather and his friend, he gave one wish each. I know not what the friend wished for, but can you guess what my grandfather wished for?”
“Freedom?”
“Precisely so. He said to the voyager, ‘I want to sail beyond the horizon, and explore the furthest reaches of this land.’ So, the voyager granted him this ship. Of course, Whitmore died before he could explore the entire world, but I believe he lives on in this ship, as does the rest of this line. As I intend to do when I pass on.”
“Is that story true?” It didn’t seem unfathomable, especially given what he knew was possible, that a great magician had given his ancestor a magical boat.
The captain stroked his beard. “Hmmm. Maybe. I choose to believe it, at least. I feel the call of the horizon in my blood. It’s why I agreed to let you join. Every one of the crew feels its pull. Our paths might one day diverge, but I hope you always keep that desire alive.” As he said this, a breeze filled the sagging sails. “Now, go take over for my son up in the crow’s nest. Grab an apple if you’re hungry.”
***
Dawn slowly crept into the horizon, bringing with it a promise of warmth. Dantes sat in the crow’s nest looking outwards, opposite William, who had decided to stay and chat rather than rest.
“Say Dantes, how’d you get that scar?”
Dantes paused, regretting having promised to answer all Will’s questions in return for the boy fetching him apples. Already, there was a small pile of cores adding up. “Hmm. Back home, I was tied up all day, forced to watch for intruders. I purposely ignored them sometimes, and my master would bind me tightly as punishment. Or beat me.”
The boy gaped. “You were a slave? I’m glad you escaped. How’d you get here?”
Dantes shrugged at that. He wasn’t even sure himself how he had ended up in Esthar.
“Well as long as you’re with us, you’re free to do whatever you want or go wherever you want. Say, do you know any magic? Rowan taught me a little bit, but he says I don’t have the talent for it.”
Again, Dantes shrugged noncommittally. It was a very useful tool, shrugging. It seemingly implying myriads of things, allowing him to navigate conversations without actually understanding what he was expected to say or do. “Not really.”
“You could learn if you wanted. Here, do it like this.” Will walked over, sitting next to him. Grabbing him by the wrist, he closed his eyes.
He could feel something in the boy’s hand swirling loosely around. It swirled through Will’s hand and into his, where it passed through his fingertips, resulting in a faint breeze exiting from his fingers.
“Hey, you have mana circuits at least, which means you can do it to some extent. That was my only spell, by the way. I can make it a bit stronger, but [Breeze] is the most basic spell. It’s basically just forcing mana out of your body. Pretty useless huh? I bet you could use it to blow up some skirts though. Hmm, actually…” the boy frowned, lost in thought.
Dantes looked west to the horizon, the sun now peeking up at his back, two dots just barely in view. “What’s that up ahead?”
William looked up from his musings, grabbing a collapsible telescope from his pocket. “TWO SAILS AHEAD, FRIGATE CLASS. Good catch Dantes. You should get to your position now, I’ll stay on watch until we’re closer.”
***
Mornings come in all shapes and sizes. Recently, she reflected, the mornings had been pretty crappy. Waking up in a new world, waking up with a headache that would make a sledgehammer blush, and now this. Mitty eyed the hole in the cabin’s window, noting she could see another ship a few hundred paces out. While she hadn’t closely examined the cabin the night before, she was pretty sure this was a new development, given a dent in the door on the opposite side and a cannonball rolling on the floor. Either that, or it was just pirate décor. She wouldn’t be the one to judge.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
This morning may not be off to the most stellar start, but that wasn’t going to stop her from enjoying it.
Making that silent resolution, Mitty climbed out of the bed. There were actually several stuffed animals in the corner of the bed that she hadn’t noticed yesterday. A pink teddy bear with button eyes smiled back at her.
“Cute.”
She gave the purple rabbit with an eyepatch a quick pat before skipping out onto the main deck. Looking around, everyone seemed to be busy loading cannons and waving glowing staffs and doing piratey things. She was curious, but felt she could use something to eat first. She approached the burly one with grey hair.
“Pardon, do you know where the kitchen is?”
“Get outta the way lass, ye could get hurt up here.”
That was rather rude of him. She thought she’d asked rather politely. She decided to try again, approaching the young one. William, she thought.
“Pardon, could you direct me to the kitchen?”
The boy opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Coughing once, he stuttered, “o-over there i-in the f-focsle.” He gestured broadly to the front deck.
Yup, that previous guy was just being rude. She thanked him, and popped down below deck.
The kitchen, it turned out, was actually quite large, and well equipped. The counters were fairly clean, but there was a large pile of unwashed pots and bowls in the sink. Looking around she did see a cold box. From it, she retrieved eggs, and some thin strips of meat she recognized as bacon. Perfect for breakfast.
Now, frying it up properly shouldn’t be too hard. She’d thoroughly gone through all the recipes that she’d received from Delphi, and still had them in her pockets. Having magical pockets had proved to be a bit too interesting for the cat, and she’d gone and stored everything she could fit in there, spice drawer and the kitchen sink included. Hopefully the jam jar didn’t crack or everything would be all sticky.
To start, she laid out the bacon onto a cold frying pan, and cranked the heat up most of the way. While she waited for the rune to do its thing, she decided to poke about the kitchen. There were no overhead cabinets, and the counter only ran alongside the long side of the room, with barrels in the corner. Each barrel was labeled. She saw one labeled [Fresh Meat] which was interesting. Perhaps the barrels had preservation runes attached to them? There were all sorts of stuff, like potatoes, flour, carrots, deer carcasses and rice, just the sort of thing you’d hope to find in a kitchen, she thought.
Flipping the bacon now that it was quite dark on one side, she went back to poking around. She opened a large wooden box, and was hit by a blast of cold air. Apparently, this was the colder cold box. Inside, there were several frozen birds, and a large block of ice. Birds were always good.
She moved the bacon onto her plate, and cracked on egg into the still hot pan. “This is where the fun begins,” she thought, chuckling to herself.
The sizzling of egg on bacon fat filled the air, as she fried up a slice of toast. Removing the egg from the pan, she flopped the egg onto the bacon on the toast and brought it all outside to enjoy in the morning light.
She thought for a moment, before dashing back inside to fetch a chair and dragging everything to the top of the forecastle where she could enjoy the ongoing events.
Dragging a tablecloth from out of her pocket, Mitty sheared off a portion of egg-on-toast vigorously. A burning smell was in the air, permeating throughout the ship. She was pretty sure she’d turned off the stove. Four of the crew, Dantes included, desperately loaded the cannons, which spewed plumes of blue smoke after a short delay Ah, that explains the burning. The rude one from earlier, the quartermaster, she surmised, was waving a stick in the air that set off the cannons in a thunderous volley. Which was pretty neat.
The sleepy woman from the night before was nowhere to be seen, but she recognized Rowan from across the ship alongside the captain at the wheel.
Across the water, the cannons roared, as a barrage of iron blew forth, skipping over the water into the side of the ship, resulting in a dull thunk sound, but nothing more. She put down her fork and peered over the side. There wasn’t a single scratch in the hull, much less a hole. She eyed the flanking ships. They should really use better cannonballs. She was starting to regret not making some tea now, having previously thought the turbulence might make it hard to drink. It would have looked super cool.
Deciding to take a more critical look at the events unfolding, she counted four ships, presumably all enemies, two per side. Two were currently engaged in the battle, and the other two were closing in, out of range for now.
They were all about the same size as the Spitfire, with three masts, but seemed much shoddier. Whereas the Spitfire was midnight black with white and red highlights, each line pristine and precise, looking across the water, the… Killihawk was plain wooden brown, with several holes in the hull and the middle mast leaning precariously against one of its neighbours.
“What an odd design choice. I can’t imagine the holes are good for the speed of the boat. Say, I still haven’t read that letter from Delphi.”
Recovering the letter from her pocket, she broke the wax seal. It read:
Dear Mitts,
If everything has gone as planned, you will be reading this aboard the ship of Captain Crow and well on your way to Windcrown. He is an honourable man, like his father, which is why I entrusted this task to him. I’m sorry we don’t have more time to get to know each other, but I had little time to nudge events in the proper direction to get you out of the city in one piece. If you ever return to Esthar, let’s go to the market together and bake that “Birthday Cake” you were gabbing on about; I’d like to see what they're all about.
Your friend,
Delphi, Oracle Extraordinaire
P.S.
If you find any novels written by Folduin the Voyager, pick them up for me and I’ll pay you back okay? They’re hard to identify for non-voyagers.
Mitty folded the letter, and sipped from a tea cup she’d filled with water, both from her pockets. It was a little stale, but her mind wasn’t really on that at the moment.
Delphi must have known about the weapon if she really did have Captain Crow abscond with it. Maybe she really was an oracle. She’d have to be if she knew I’d be here as well as Dantes. Or just an educated guess from when she spilt the beans about the job in the first place?
Bouncing some ideas around in her head, she came to a conclusion.
“You may have trapped me in a bathtub with a bunch of unwashed gentlemen pirates for multiple weeks, chased by considerably less gentlemanly pirates, but if it ends up being fun, I guess I can forgive you.” Nodding her head once in solemn resolution, Mitty downed the last of her ‘tea’ with the proper amount of gravitas.
***
Now that they’d disabled one of their attackers, Captain Crow moved his attention to the other vessel. It had been a lucky shot, really, but they’d managed to get an explosive cannonball through a gap in their wards, taking out their mast.
Summoning a tailwind to edge him past their other attacker, he tightened the sheets, preparing to head slightly higher into the wind. It would be a close thing, but if they could cut off the other ship, they could shred her with ward piercing shots lengthwise. They’d have no choice but to back off before then or be ripped apart.
These two weren’t really meant to take them down anyway, just slow them enough for reinforcements to arrive. The Sultan had prepared a wide net to prevent their escape, but it shouldn’t matter soon anyway. His Ironside should be able to take any number of volleys they throw at the hull. Even without the wards, his ship was stronger than ten of theirs. So long as they don’t hit a mast, everything should be fine.
Veering off from their attacker, he pointed up further into the wind. Going past a close reach was madness for most, but he knew his ship well, and his [Soulbound Breeze] allowed him to point higher into the wind than most. Measuring the distance in his head, by now, he’d gained enough of a lead on the other ship that he was willing to go for it.
“HELMS ALEE, ALL HANDS PREPARE TO TACK!”
Nodding to himself, he saw the new deckhand dash past him to man the spanker sheet. Good, it seems like Harq showed him the ropes properly. Most of the functions of the ship could be controlled by him directly using centralised force spells and pulleys, but the one in the back needed replacing, and so had to be done manually.
Pushing through the wind, aided by the constant breeze at his back, Crow brought the ship back down to a close reach, now almost perpendicular to their pursuers. If they were too slow, the maneuver would have worked against them, allowing the enemies to get off a lengthwise volley on them, or even worse, getting rammed, but he hadn’t sailed the seas for 40 years for nothing.
Barely squeaking past the incoming ship, he smiled, letting the quartermaster do his thing. The piercing rounds ripped through their pursuers ship, sending wooden shrapnel in all directions, scattering the men on the deck, a ball just barely missing the ballista mounted on the bow. He did a double take. A ballista? Damn, he’d miscalculated.
A sinking feeling in his chest was confirmed moments later with a deafening CLICK-THUNK. A solid beam of enchanted steel bucked from the ship, piercing right through Rowan’s wards and through the main mast, exploding violently upon contact, resulting in a shower of splinters as the mast teetered perilously, held in place loosely by the rigging.
Suddenly, the voice he’d been waiting on rang out from the foretop.
“CAPTAIN, I GOT IT!”
Just barely in time, the wind picked up, and brought with it the first signs of moisture. In the distance, thunder called out to its friend, and the water roiled and tumbled in anticipation of what would be an unexpected storm.
“RANDALL, SEE IF YOU CAN SALVAGE THE MAST! STOW THE MAIN SAIL IF YOU CAN!”
Glancing back at the ship they’d just savaged, he saw it sinking lower in the water already. He eyed the other two ships, once flanking in on the horizon, now turning back. It was going to be a big storm, but he knew it would be enough to lose any pursuit, for now.