‘Hirad, can we talk about something else? Like where your dragons are or something?’ Ilkar turned his head slightly to narrow his eyes at Hirad. ‘I thought perhaps our rather difficult circumstances might be of more import to you than your friends’ sexual energy.’
‘They’ll be here, don’t worry about it,’ said Hirad.
‘Are you sure they can find us in all this?’ Ilkar gestured at the dense rain-bearing cloud.
‘They don’t need to see, they can find us by following the signature of my mind,’ said Hirad, mildly irritated. ‘You know that.’
‘I pity anyone following your mind at the moment,’ muttered Ilkar. ‘Full of filth.’
Thunder rumbled overhead. Inside the roiling mass, lightning flashed incessantly. Thunder sounded again and suddenly the clouds disgorged a flood of rain. It drummed on the deck, rattled into the sails and drove into their faces.
Hirad turned his face away for a modicum of shelter.
‘Gods falling! This is unbelievable,’ he said.
He and Ilkar hurried back along the foredeck, the rain lashing down heavier and heavier. They raced across the main deck, the water pouring down their necks soaking their clothes, heading for the aft hatch and the galley, suddenly in need of a hot drink and the warmth of a cook stove.
At the hatch they met Darrick, who was staring intently into the sky, seemingly oblivious to the downpour. He smiled at them.
‘Refreshing, isn’t it?
‘Bloody soldiers,’ said Hirad. ‘Always got to prove how tough they are.’
‘Not really,’ said Darrick. ‘I was just wondering what was causing this, all of a sudden.’
‘Well, while you’re wondering, would you mind stepping aside?’ Ilkar waved him left.
Darrick obliged. ‘I thought it must be something in the cloud triggering the lightning. Probably them.’
He pointed along the length of the ship. Hirad turned, his head already filling with thoughts of welcome. The Kaan had broken through the cloud and were powering away towards the Dordovan fleet.
I take it, this is the group of ships you want us to deal with, pulsed Sha-Kaan.
Yes, Great Kaan. The orange colours. Seven of them. Be careful of magic.
Be careful of wreckage. More mirth. Sha-Kaan was mellowing in his old age, not that that would be any comfort to the Dordovans. Hirad ran back to the bow, the rain forgotten, and yelled the Kaan on.
Chapter 33
The Kaan flew from the clouds in a chevron, Sha-Kaan at its head, Nos and Hyn on the flanks. They glided fast over the fleet, seeing the humans below panicked and rushing for the sails, for the places below decks or for any cover they could find. Sha could sense the mages below, there were many of them. Hirad Coldheart was right, they presented serious danger.
Passing the lead vessel, they gained height and banked, turning to attack.
Break their formation. Take the masts if you can. Spells will come, pulsed Sha-Kaan.
They dived, roaring into the rain-sodden air, each targeting a ship, seeing the fleet begin to break up as wheels were swung, rudders bit into the ocean and the vessels turned and scattered. Much too slow.
Sha-Kaan came in low and across the bow of his target, wings beating back to slow him, great talons biting into the deck as he landed, his weight causing the ship to bounce and slew. Water poured over the bows, a torrent streaming for the holds, weighing it down.
His neck lashed forwards and his jaws bit at the mast in front of him, the wood splintering. Another bite and it fell, bringing down sail and line. He pushed away from the ship, seeing a group of men running along the deck towards him. Mages. They sprawled as the aft of the ship smacked back into the water. With a lazy beat of his wings, he angled towards them, lashing out with his jaws, dragging his hind claws along the deck and sweeping with his tail, not caring with what he connected.
Behind him, the raised foredeck was shattered and men lay where they had been hit, or crawled away, limbs broken. Sha-Kaan swept back up into the sky, high above the range of any spell, and looked down at what he had done. One mast was down, the humans were terrified and the dragging sail hindered their progress. It was not enough.
He came in again, higher this time, coming across the ship broadside. Feeling the first edges of pain from individual spells as he closed, he braked sharply, brought his hind claws around and grabbed the main mast, feeling the wood compress under his talons. Unable to get a grip to wrench the mast clear, he used his momentum, beat his wings hard, and slowly, slowly, the ship began to tip.
More spells crashed into his back, intense heat and harsh cold eating into his drying scales. He barked in pain, shifted his weight and the mast snapped beneath his enormous bulk. He tumbled towards the sea, letting go the part of the mast he held in his claws and diving straight into the water to quell the magical fires, depriving them of the air they needed before surfacing and racing again for the heights. He was surprised by the severity of the damage he had suffered and pulsed new warnings to the Brood. He looked back as he climbed, feeling the weakening in his scales where the spells had struck. The mast had broken through the deck and ripped its way down the hull to below the water line. The ship was sinking. Time for a fresh target.
Sha-Kaan circled, calling the Brood to him. Below, two ships were going down but the one targeted by Hyn-Kaan was still afloat and as Hyn climbed, Sha could see the damage to his already wounded wing was severe.
Hyn, the battle is over for you. You can land on one of the islands. You must rest.
No, Sha, not unless you order it. I can still fly.
Sha-Kaan sighed. I will order nothing of you. But I wish to see you live. They will be better prepared this time and we still have much work to do. Do not risk yourself.
We may all live to see Beshara again, pulsed Hyn-Kaan. But not unless these enemies are stopped.
Sha-Kaan agreed. We have broken the fleet, their direction is lost. One ship at a time. Nos, the masts, I will take the helm and rear mast. Hyn, seek the rudder then swim clear. Follow me.
For the third time, Sha-Kaan dived, his Brood at his sides once more. He bellowed his approach, choosing an undamaged vessel that was coming about to regain its original heading. Spells soared out. Orbs of flame hissing and spitting by, and gouts of intense cold that caught his wingtips and froze vein and oil where they struck. He switched direction, presented his back to the mages and swung in hard left, jaws sweeping across the wheel deck, taking wheel, helmsman and compass with him, spitting out what lodged as he made for open sea again.
Behind him, a loud impact on water told of Hyn-Kaan entering the ocean and a series of rending cracks signalled a mast toppling. More flame caught on his back as he flew away. The pain was deep, grinding into his scales and flesh and every beat of his wings pulled at his wounds. Their time in Balaia had made their hides and scales far more vulnerable than he could have imagined. Perhaps the humans would have to complete the battle for Herendeneth alone after all.
Vuldaroq watched the dragons attack, his words about not underestimating The Raven repeating like bile in his mind. His mood had turned from victorious joy to near desperation in a few scant hours, his careful plans scattered like his surviving ships.
Once it had been clear that the Protector army was driving towards Arlen, he’d left the town to rot, choosing to take ship at Gyernath with a much larger force than he’d originally planned, following his skirmish with Sytkan.
Readying the standing College fleet, bringing the crews to Gyernath and provisioning for the long voyage had delayed him by several days. But the relayed news that Erienne had been taken in Arlen vindicated his decision; and he’d already envisaged sailing to destroy the Al-Drechar and the Malanvai child, shown the way by the mother herself. It had been beautiful irony and he’d confessed grudging admiration for the efficiency of Selik and his Black Wings. Another decision proved correct.