Forged In Flame (In Her Name: The First Empress, Book 2) (26 page)

“And not one of ours,” Ka’i-Lohr added. Leaning over the edge of the platform, he cupped his hands to his mouth and bellowed, “Enemy ship, on the horizon dead astern!”

The reaction on the deck far below was instantaneous. A horn blew and the crew boiled from below decks to take up their stations. Wan-Kuta’i and Dara-Kol, tiny figures as seen from the lookout platform, rushed to the stern and stared at the sea. It was some moments before Wan-Kuta’i pointed.

“We can see farther from up here,” Ka’i-Lohr explained as the tip of a mast appeared, framed by the smoke.

“How do you know it is one of the queen’s ships?”

“While it has sails,” he told her, “it is also burning wood to drive paddles in the water. The mechanical engine that drives the paddles is what makes the smoke. Even when the wind is completely calm, such ships can sail onward.”

Keel-Tath did not understand how burning wood could move a ship through the water, but she accepted his words on faith. “Yes, but how do you know it is not a ship from Ural-Murir?”

Tara-Khan snorted. “Only fools use such engines. They are dangerous, difficult to maintain, and the sound and vibrations often draw unwanted attention from the depths.”

“And that is something no ship ever wants,” Ka’i-Lohr added. Both of them were tense, and she realized they were both afraid, not of battle, but of the sea. The crew had already shared many stories with her, and a few had been about some of the battles they had fought. She had no need to hear the song of their spirit in her blood to sense their terror. The sea was far more cruel than the most horrendous battle. Crewmen who fell from their ships had only seconds to live before being torn apart by the deadly fish, and a ship that suffered damage below the waterline could be just as quickly doomed by the things that came in with the water.

She shivered and clutched more tightly at the rope stays supporting the platform as the ship heeled over to a new course, the bow swinging to starboard, to the southwest. Life on land suddenly seemed much more appealing.

“Wan-Kuta’i is turning the ship to give the sails the best advantage of the wind,” Ka’i-Lohr said. “It will lengthen our journey somewhat, but perhaps may keep us out of reach of the enemy until dark.”

“And what then?”

“If they are not too close and there is no moon, we may be able to lose them.”

***

Hours later, Keel-Tath was still scanning the horizon behind them, watching the slow approach of the queen’s warship, when she noticed something else.

More smoke.

She nudged Tara-Khan and Ka’i-Lohr, who had been scanning the other sectors of the horizon. They looked and squinted. After a moment, they nodded.

“It is your honor,” Tara-Khan told her. “Inform Wan-Kuta’i.”

Looking down at the deck far below and the tiny figures standing at their posts, Keel-Tath cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted, “Smoke on the horizon astern!” She looked up quickly at Tara-Khan, who gave her a grudging nod of approval. She was learning the strange language of those who sailed the sea, albeit slowly.

Every face on the deck looked up at her warning, and Wan-Kuta’i gestured for her to come down. 

“I saw two more plumes of smoke,” she reported after climbing down the rope ladders and dashing aft to the quarterdeck. “They looked to be much the same as that of the ship that follows us, but I could see nothing else.”

“You did well, Keel-Tath.” Wan-Kuta’i inclined her head, and Keel-Tath felt herself swell with pride. “To have sight keener than your two companions is no mean feat.”

“What shall we do?” Dara-Kol fingered the handle of her sword as she glanced at Keel-Tath, exposing her worry over the safety of her charge.

“The first ship we might have beaten in battle, although it would not have been easy. Against three…” Wan-Kuta’i shook her head. “And we cannot outrun them. Even with full sail they are gaining on us.”

“Blood in the water.” Dara-Kol said it so softly that Keel-Tath thought at first she had misheard. 

But several of the crew nearby had not. They stared at Dara-Kol, fear and disbelief plain on their faces. “Mistress,” one of them said, shaken, “we are on the edge of the Great Deep!”

Keel-Tath did not understand. “What does that mean?”

With a thoughtful look at Dara-Kol, Wan-Kuta’i told her, “Just as the
a’in-ka
tree of which our ship is made repels the creatures of the sea, so does blood attract them. The waters where we sail now, along the Great Deep, are the most dangerous of our world. Only the largest of our ships ever venture this far west for fear of what lives beneath the waves. We come this far only because we must.” She looked back at the enemy warship, which was still distant, but in full view, smoke belching from a stack amidships. The dark smudges of the other two ships were now discernible on the horizon behind it. “The queen’s ships, driven by their noisy mechanical contraptions, are foolish to even try.”

“So, we put blood in the water to attract the beasts below? What difference would that make to the queen’s ships?”

“The
kalakh-hin’da
, the large creature you saw attacking the queen’s warriors on the beach as we left in the boats, is small prey here.” Wan-Kuta’i’s eyes took on a haunted expression. “The things this far into the Western Sea and beyond are born of nightmares and legends best left unspoken.” She looked at Keel-Tath. “Yet they may now be our only salvation.”

***

As the day wore on, the wind began to slacken. Behind them, the lead ship had slowed its headlong pursuit for a time, allowing its sisters to catch up. Now the three of them, in a wedge formation, steamed full-ahead after their prey.

Wan-Kuta’i’s ship had every bit of canvas out. She had even had the crew haul buckets of water up to douse the sails to catch every last breath of wind, but it was clear that the pursuing warships would catch them well before nightfall. 

“The night would not help us,” Wan-Kuta’i said. “The Great Moon shines tonight. They would be able to see as plain as day.”

“Blood in the water, then?” Keel-Tath’s stomach curdled as she spoke the words. The bawdy tales of the crew had also included accounts of the creatures of the Great Deep. She had thought at the time they were only tall tales, exaggerations intended to scare a young warrior fresh from the land. She knew now that the tales were no mere fabrication. While they attended their duties, there was no mistaking the aura of fear among the crew.

Nodding, Wan-Kuta’i said, “When the time is right.”

Keel-Tath was startled by a close-spaced series of booms that echoed from the queen’s ships, accompanied by gouts of flame and puffs of smoke from their bows. A few seconds later, she heard a sound like cloth being ripped, just before enormous geysers erupted in the sea ahead and behind her ship.

“What was that?”

“Cannons.” Wan-Kuta’i spat the word. “They shoot a ball about as large as your head across a great distance, and can cause much damage to a ship.”

“Do we have any?”

“No. Our larger ships carry such weapons, but we do not. This ship was designed as a swift courier, for speed, not battle. The weapons we used against the warriors on the beach are effective against ships, but only at close range, and only in a broadside. We have nothing that can fire directly forward or aft. They will be useless in this fight.” She grimaced as the pursuing ships fired another salvo. The shots landed much closer. She turned her attention to the lookout platform where Tara-Khan and Ka’i-Lohr were. “Clear the lookouts!”

“Why must they come down?” Keel-Tath asked as her two companions quickly abandoned the platform and began to clamber down the rope ladder.

“Anyone on the platform would be killed if the mainmast is hit,” Wan-Kuta’i told her. “And we may have more need of a few extra swords on deck than eyes up above. But now we have other business to attend to.”

She gathered Dara-Kol and several others, including Drakh-Nur, who was still terribly ill, but driven by his duty to protect his young mistress, and led them to the lee side of the ship, opposite the direction from where the wind was blowing. Taking her dagger, she leaned as far as she could over the side rail and extended her left arm, then slashed her wrist. Blood trickled from the wound, the crimson drops scattering across the water.

The others, including Tara-Khan and Ka’i-Lohr when they reached the deck, did the same. Keel-Tath joined them, suppressing a wince as the glittering blade sliced through her flesh and into the veins. She noticed out of the corner of her eye the white robes of Han-Ukha’i as the healer came to stand behind them, ready to heal their wounds.

As their blood rained down upon the water, Keel-Tath expected Wan-Kuta’i to recite some sort of incantation or ceremonial words. But the ship mistress remained silent, her eyes fixed on the water as if she could see into the black depths below.

At last, Wan-Kuta’i said, “Enough.” Keel-Tath and the others clamped a hand over the wounds in their wrists, and Han-Ukha’i went to work, placing a small piece of healing gel over each wound. In but moments, all that remained was a neat scar.

Keel-Tath followed Wan-Kuta’i and Dara-Kol again to the stern rail, where they watched and waited. “Can the things of the sea taste the blood?”

Wan-Kuta’i nodded. “The creatures in these waters can sense a single drop of blood from leagues away, and we have offered them the scent of a great feast. Our blood is even more enticing, because we are from the land, a rare prey for them. That they will come, there is no doubt. The only question is whether they will come in time.”

Dara-Kol added, “And if they do not destroy us, too.” 

The queen’s ships fired again, and Keel-Tath flinched as she heard a sharp crack from above, followed by warning cries. She looked up just in time to see the lookout platform explode in a shower of splinters that rained down on the deck. A warrior screamed as the top of the mainmast fell, crushing her.

“They have found our range!” Wan-Kuta’i turned and bellowed orders, and the ship changed course slightly to throw off the enemy gunners’ aim. Warriors swarmed up the rope ladders to repair the damaged rigging below the lookout platform. Pointing at the body of the dead warrior, Wan-Kuta’i said, “Throw her body into the sea!” Under her breath, she added, “We will honor her later. Now the scent of her blood and flesh of her body might help save us.” 

The pursuing ships began a steady barrage. Most of the shots missed, but more and more were finding their mark. Keel-Tath was amazed to see that the cannonballs actually bounced off the stout wood of the hull. But above, along the exposed decks and among the masts and rigging, the weapons were wreaking havoc. 

Her heart caught in her throat as a ball blasted through the side rail, sending a storm of splinters and shards scything across the main deck, not an arms-length from where Han-Ukha’i was standing, tending to a wounded warrior. 

“Drakh-Nur!” She turned to the giant, who stood behind her, and pointed at Han-Ukha’i. “Get her below and keep her safe!”

“I will not leave your side, mistress!”

“Do as I command!”

An agonized expression on his face, above and beyond the discomfort of his seasickness, he saluted and pounded across the deck to scoop up Han-Ukha’i. He tossed her, shouting in protest, over one shoulder and grabbed the wounded warrior she had been tending with his free hand, dragging him toward the hatch.

They had just disappeared below when another ball struck one of the boats stored on the main deck. It disappeared into a cloud of steel-hard splinters that turned three warriors into bloody strips and tore through the space where Han-Ukha’i had just been standing.

“Send the bodies over the side!” Wan-Kuta’i shouted. “Soon,” she prayed, looking at the water astern, then at the enemy ships, which were closing fast. The water in their wake was seething with small fish who, denied the meal that their senses said must be here, began tearing at one another, adding even more blood to the water. Soon the shadows of larger things could be seen cruising just below the surface, pursuing their smaller cousins. The ship’s wake quickly turned into a bath of blood into which the enemy ships sailed. “It must be soon.”

The words had barely left her lips when an ear-shattering crack sounded right behind them as the aft-most of the ship’s three masts exploded at chest height, struck square by a cannonball. There were more shouts and screams as the splinters sliced across the deck. The mast seemed to hang in space for just a moment before it toppled over the port side, the rigging lines parting with loud whip-cracks. 

Keel-Tath stared upward as the sky was blanked out by canvas and the boom that secured the bottom of the sail fell directly toward her.

Then she was flying through the air as Tara-Khan crashed into her, knocking her aside just as the boom, which was nearly as big around as Keel-Tath, smashed into the deck, followed by a spiderweb of rigging and heavy wooden tackle blocks.

Wan-Kuta’i, who had deftly sidestepped to the other side of the falling boom and debris, was bellowing orders through the chaos, even as the queen’s ships quickened their rate of fire. The ship had slowed perceptibly with the loss of sail in the wind, and it heeled to port as the great mass of canvas from the fallen mast billowed in the water, acting as a sea anchor and slowing them even more. Warriors were frantically at work, cutting the shrouds to free the ship of the wrecked mast.

“One of the boats remains, mistress,” Dara-Kol shouted to be heard above the pandemonium as Tara-Khan pulled Keel-Tath to her feet. “We must get it into the water and…”

“And do what?” Keel-Tath said, anger driving the blood in her veins to a frothing boil. “We cannot escape, and I will not flee to leave the others behind!” 

Dara-Kol looked away, streaks of mourning under her eyes. 

Keel-Tath took the older warrior’s face in her hands. She knew that there was little time left for words. “Never think you have failed or disappointed me. I can only hope that your deeds and your honor will someday be recorded in the Books of Time, and that when death takes us you will find yourself in company with my father and mother, and all the great warriors who stand with them.”