The barbarian looked up again. Denser was shouting something but he couldn't hear it. The cold ate at him. They lurched sicken-ingly as Hirad swung back and forth, he trying to climb the rope that must be causing Denser agony, and the mage wrestling with his balance as he fought to keep them both from the ocean.
Hirad tried to swing his right arm round but couldn't get any momentum. The rope was cutting into his wrist and he grabbed on to it with his fingers, trying to relieve the pressure, praying now that they'd reach the Elm before Denser's boot came off. He tried again to get his other hand round but again fell short as the wind buffeted and blew him in dizzying circles. He felt sick now, the cold muddying his mind, the hail and seawater blinding him, the blood running down his arm from the rope-torn skin of his wrist.
With a thumping of air, Ilkar flew to catch him, driving upwards in one movement and hovering until Hirad found his grip again.
'Thanks,' gasped Hirad. 'Thank you.'
'We're almost there.' And then he was gone.
They changed direction, flying low over the waves and coming up to the rear of the vessel. There were no lights here as there were along its flanks and, confident that no elf who saw them would betray them, they flew in very close, below the level of the deck.
Here, despite the pitching of the ship, there was blessed relief from the storm and Hirad's pounding heart started to calm. Denser took them slowly upwards, Hirad bringing his knees up to his chest to clear the rail. Once down, he lay flat to allow Denser to land and heard the light step of Ilkar come by his head. His hands were too numb to untie the rope. Happily, Ilkar's weren't and, with it off his wrist, he could refasten it around his waist for later and survey the damage to his arm.
'That's going to hurt later,' he said. 'Your ankle all right, Denser?'
'It'll last,' whispered Denser. 'What's next?'
'We listen,' said Hirad.
They listened to the shrieking of the wind, the odd word that came to them on the gale and the protesting of the ship's timbers. It told them nothing of who was on deck, or how many, but after their silence it was at least obvious that there were no patrols. At least, not to the stern.
'If this is anything like the Sun, we'll have to get in through the aft doors,' said Denser.
'Very risky,' said Ilkar.
'Well, besides blowing a hole in the wood about here, I reckon that's our only choice,' said Denser.
'And we have to exit that way anyhow,' said Hirad. 'Or you won't be able to deploy wings unless you can cast underwater.'
'Then let's not waste any more time,' said Ukar.
Hirad nodded and drew two daggers, one for his right hand, one to be gripped in his teeth, leaving his long sword in its scabbard on his back. With Ukar and then Denser in his wake, he edged down the port rail towards the main deck, keeping low, the pitching of the ship a constant threat. The wood beneath his feet was slick with water and the hail was turning to rain, mixed in with spray from the sea. His hands were cold, the ache in his left wrist growing as he gripped the rail.
Flattening himself along the wall behind him, he moved on slowly, letting more and more of the deck reveal itself. They were still in deep shadow but under the light of a few swinging lanterns he could see three Black Wing guards near the bow of the ship, their arms clutching the foremast for balance. Another was halfway up the port rail and he had to assume there would be more, probably starboard and on the wheel deck beneath which they were currently crouched.
He turned to Ilkar. 'Got enough stamina for CloakedWalk?'
'That, a shield and another set of wings, no more,' whispered Ilkar.
'We've got to know more about the situation in front of the aft doors.'
Ilkar nodded. 'Just hope I don't connect with the shield covering Erienne.' He framed the shape for the spell, moved forwards and disappeared.
'Denser, you all right?'
The Xeteskian nodded. 'Just let's get her away from here before I lose it.'
'Revenge later, all right?'
Denser grunted, his eyes fixed forwards.
They waited in the shadows. The Black Wings barely moved
though elves did, checking lines, climbing rigging and passing round hot drinks to their captors. Drifting down from above them in a momentary pause in the wind, Hirad could hear elven voices. He wondered what they were thinking and whether, with Erienne gone, their lives would be worth much to Selik. Perhaps he should go with Denser's desire and try to kill all the Black Wings.
The slightest of rustling by Hirad and Ilkar reappeared.
'Right, I've retained the Cloak so this better be fast. There's a Dordovan on the wheel deck, along with two elves, and another one talking to a pair of Black Wings on the opposite side to us. We might be hidden from them, we might not. Our problems are the guards ahead who are looking back towards us and the one on the rail just here. They're bound to see us so we won't have much time.'
'Time for what?' asked Denser.
'Just go with this because it's our only chance. When I Cloak again, follow me at a run after a count of twelve. That gives me time to open the door on my way past. You run in, I follow and bolt it from the inside and we take it from there. We'll be up against swords and magic but they won't be expecting us. All right?'
'That's why The Unknown makes the plans,' said Denser, a wry smile on his face. 'Let's get it over with.'
Ilkar nodded and disappeared again. Hirad counted out loud and deliberately, using the numbers to keep calm himself for the fight. This could be no Rage, it would be too tight.
'… eleven, twelve. Go!'
He stood and ran for the corner of the deck, the ship pitching into a wave as he arrived, sending him sliding forwards into the light. There was a shout from ahead and he saw the Black Wings coming. Forgetting them, he turned and headed for the aft door which swung open as he approached it, a slight shimmering in the air telling of Ilkar on the edge of losing concentration.
'Run, Denser!' he pounded to the opening and jumped through it, coming to a crouch, head up, and looking down the corridor.
Two guards flanked a door about ten yards ahead and by them, two mages were seated. The guards looked round as he hit the floor, unsure for a second. Hirad wasn't. He ran forwards, a cry ripping from his lips and threw a dagger as he approached, taking one of the guards in the shoulder as he turned. The man fell back, the other
dragging his sword from its scabbard and stepping to block the corridor.
'Denser, mages ahead,' warned Hirad.
'Yes,' said a voice behind him.
The guard stabbed forwards, the corridor too narrow for a swing, Hirad stepping back smartly. The Black Wing came on, another stab, but this time Hirad flattened himself against a corridor wall, the blade missing him.
'Now, Denser!' he shouted, bringing his fist down on the guard's sword arm and lashing forwards with his dagger, ripping through the man's clothing and scoring his chest. He found purchase on the sword arm and dragged the man forwards and off balance, reversing the dagger across his face as he came. Into the clear space ran Denser, while behind him, the aft door shut and a bolt slid across.
Tlkar, help him,' called Hirad. But, as he smashed his fist into the guard's face again, he saw the Xeteskian needed no help, pouncing on the wounded guard and stabbing him through the chest. The barbarian lashed a kick into his victim's stomach and as he fell, stamped down on his neck. They all heard it snap beneath his foot.