THE NAVAL CUTTER
Steven heard the hollow thud of someone running on deck. ‘What’s that?’
‘Probably the captain,’ Garec said.
‘Captains don’t run,’ Gilmour said. ‘It instils too much fear and excitement in the crew, makes them jumpy.’
‘You don’t know this one,’ Garec said. ‘He’s not your ordinary merchant captain. With him, when it’s time to run, he runs. Ouch!’ He flinched as Kellin extricated another stitch.
The forward cabin was lit with all the candles they could find so Kellin could see what she was doing. She was just halfway through when Captain Ford barged in, pausing on the threshold to make sure none of his crew were within earshot. ‘Are you two truly sorcerers?’ he asked, a little out of breath.
Gilmour answered, ‘I wouldn’t say that we’re sor-’
‘No time for lies, my friend,’ the captain interrupted. ‘We’ve got a naval cutter, very fast, tacking to overtake us. We’re quick, especially running empty, but we’re not quick enough to get past them without a fight.’
Steven started, ‘We can perhaps-’
‘Let me finish,’ he went on. ‘I’ve ordered the ship about. We’ll make a run for the Pragan coast.’
‘West?’ Garec asked, stopping Kellin as she started on the next stitch. There would be time for that later.
‘It’s a difficult tack, granted, and the wind will carry us northwest, but the cutter’s on the same wind so even if he sets a course across our current heading, he’ll be carried to the northeast, towards Falkan. So we put out all the watch-fires and run on a beam reach in the dark. My goal is to be hull-down on their horizon by morning. If we’re lucky it’ll be hazy. If we’re blessed by the gods, there’ll be fog.’
‘So what do you need from us?’ Garec said.
How much power do you have? Are you truly sorcerers?’ he asked. ‘Time’s wasting and I need to know. One of you ignited those fireballs in the sky this morning.’
Steven looked at Gilmour and shrugged. ‘Captain Ford, both Gilmour and I could easily sink that ship from here if we chose to.’
He blanched. That was obviously more honesty – and more formidable power – than he had expected from them. ‘Oh,’ he murmured, ‘well then-’
‘But we can’t.’
‘Why not?’ Ford asked, now completely bemused. ‘Do you know what they’ll do if they catch us running empty through the Narrows, obviously trying to escape?’
‘Impound your ship?’ Garec said.
‘And lock us in the brig, at the very least, and that’s if we’re lucky. I could tell them we’re making for Averil, but I don’t have a cargo to pick up there, and I’m not about to admit that I’m shipping five passengers, none of whom are Malakasian and none of whom have any business links to anyone in Averil.’
‘So you know,’ Steven said.
‘We’ll discuss that if we live through the night, young man,’ the captain said. ‘Right now, we’ve other problems. Why can’t you use magic? You used it this morning right enough.’
Gilmour asked, ‘Were you in Orindale when the great floodtide devastated the city?’
‘I didn’t see it happen, but I’ve seen the aftermath.’ He shuddered.
‘The person – the thing – that caused all that devastation is watching for Steven and me right now. Every time we use our magic, he knows it. We’re carrying a couple of things that give off a low hum of mystical energy, and I’m hoping that’s not enough for him to hone in on. He’s deadly dangerous, the most dangerous being ever to exist in Eldarn, and if Steven or I do anything to attract him, he will crush your ship to splinters and send us all to the bottom. I don’t doubt that for one moment, Captain Ford.’
‘But you used magic this morning-’
‘Nothing more than a party trick, I’m afraid.’ Gilmour sounded apologetic. ‘Skilled youngsters can do it, even without training. The man hunting for us wouldn’t give them a second glance.’
‘Hunting you?’ The captain was increasingly confused. ‘I thought you were hunting him.’
‘We are,’ Steven said, ‘but we have to be considerably more covert about it.’
‘Well, that’s just rutting great! A Malakasian cutter about to ram its bow right up my backside, and two sorcerers who can’t do any magic because they’ve got to hide from a rutting demon!’
‘It’s much, much worse than a demon,’ Garec said, unmoved by the captain’s anxiety. ‘What can we do?’
Ford leaned against the mainmast where it passed through the cabin, trying to regain his composure before returning to the helm. ‘You can douse all these candles, and no smoking; you’d be amazed what carries on the breeze. Garec, will you go aft and make sure someone has extinguished the cooking fires? We’ll need everyone on deck; this is a hard tack; we’re turning broadside to the wind, rutting near broaching, and it’s going to get rough. I would tell some of you to get some rest, but you probably won’t sleep now, anyway. And on deck, you do whatever Sera, Marrin or I tell you, no questions, no hesitation. Got it?’
Garec smiled grimly. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Are you any good with that bow?’
‘I’ve been known to hit my target, yes.’
‘He’s the best bowman in Eldarn,’ Gilmour clarified.
‘How close would they need to be for you to take out their officers and a few key members of the crew?’
‘In this wind?’ Garec considered the candles. ‘Not very close.’
‘Good,’ Ford forced a smile. ‘Then we’ll do it the old-fashioned way.’ To Steven and Gilmour, he said, ‘Gentlemen, if either of you has a change of heart, I need to know right away.’
Both men nodded.
Captain Ford’s voice changed. ‘Very well. Douse those flames, and let’s head west.’ He was once again the wise, experienced captain of the Morning Star.
By middlenight the Malakasian cutter had corrected her course to due north. Captain Ford left Sera at the helm and came forward to where Garec and Steven were helping Marrin haul in a sheet that had come free.
‘He’s second-guessing you, sir,’ Marrin said as the captain joined them.
‘He’s not stupid.’
‘What’s happening?’ Steven asked, shrugging out of his cloak. It was damp now, and heavy; he could work better without it, though he’d need to be careful to warm himself. With the ship broaching in the swells the way it was, he didn’t relish the idea of being below decks. He thought he might throw up if he spent too long in the cabin.
‘He took the bait for about an aven. When we doused the lights, he thought we were trying to run past him in the dark, but now he’s turned north again.’
‘In case we try to slip by to the west?’
‘Like I said, he’s not stupid.’ Captain Ford dried his face on a kerchief. ‘He saw enough to know that we’re not going to be able to bolt past him and be gone by dawn. This way he can run ahead of us and wait for sunrise.’
‘When, theoretically, we’ll either be off his starboard flank-’ Marrin started.
‘Or running west,’ Steven finished.
‘Either way,’ the captain said, ‘we can’t get past him.’
‘So even if we make it to the Pragan coast, we still give him ample opportunity to come west and cut us off.’
‘Right again, Steven,’ Marrin said. ‘You should be a sailor.’
‘So what do we do?’
‘We either come north now, use the wind to get as far as possible and make ready for a fight at dawn, or we run for Praga and try to find an inlet or maybe a cleft in the cliffs to hide for a day or two.’ He didn’t sound thrilled with either option.
‘Or we run right at him,’ Marrin said. ‘He won’t be expecting that.’
‘And do what? Offer him a beer?’
‘Strafe him with fire arrows? Hit him with a few of those fireballs the old man was tossing about this morning? Maybe we could set his shrouds on fire,’ Marrin suggested.
‘In this weather?’ The captain wasn’t convinced. ‘We’d maybe get his topgallants, but not the mains: they’re too damp.’
‘Let’s think about this for a moment,’ Steven said. He shouted for Gilmour, and as the boyish figure came within earshot, asked, ‘The fire, our fire: can Mark sense it from here?’