Ship of Magic

“That was five slaves!” bellowed the captain of the Sicerna. “Stand off! The next measure of chain has twenty fastened to it.”

“Probably the sickly ones he didn't expect to last the journey anyway,” Ke

“In Sa's name, what do we do?” Sorcor breathed. “Those poor devils!”

“We do not stand off,” Ke

The other captain threw back his head and laughed so ringingly that the sound came clear across the water to them. “As if you would let any of us live! Stand off, pirate, or these twenty die.”

Ke

“Ke

“How many spare anchors can he have?” Ke

His men were already hauling on the grappling lines, drawing the two ships closer, while his archers kept up a steady rain of arrows against the defenders who sought to pluck the grapples out and throw them overboard. The crew of the Marietta outnumbered that of the Sicerna at least three times over. The embattled defenders were well-armed, but obviously unfamiliar with their weapons. Ke

He found him on the opposite side of the vessel. He, the mate and two sailors were hastily trying to launch the ship's boat. It hung swinging over the water from its davits, but one of the release lines was jammed. Ke

“Avast!” he shouted with a grin.

“Stand clear,” the Sicerna's captain warned him, leveling a handheld cross bow at his chest.

Ke

The moment the crossbow was not pointed at his chest, Ke

The man spat at Ke

Rodel, however, did not share his skipper's optimism regarding the serpent. The terrified sailor gave a cry of despair and flung himself from the dangling boat back to the ship's deck. Ke

With a single stride Ke

The seized-up block-and-tackle suddenly broke free. One end of the suspended boat dropped abruptly, spilling men into the sea even as the serpent once more erupted to the surface. Ke

It hurt, it burned like a red-hot leg-iron, and he screamed. Then the pain suddenly flowed away from him. A chill, delightfully numbing, chased the pain away as hot water purges cold from the skin. He felt it flowing up his body. Relief, such relief from the pain. He felt his leg relax with it, and then the numbness was flowing higher. His scream died away to a groan.

“NO!” The whore shrieked the word as she flew across the deck. Etta must have been watching from the deck of the Marietta. No one blocked her way. The deck was mostly cleared of live men; they had probably fallen back at sight of the serpent rising again. Some impromptu weapon, a boarding ax or a kitchen cleaver, flashed in the sunlight as Etta brandished it. She was screaming, a stream of gutter invective and threats directed toward the serpent that even now was lifting him up. Some reflex made him cling to the ship's railing with all his might. That was not much anymore. Strength had fled him. Whatever venom the serpent had put into his wound was already rendering him helpless. When Etta seized him in a wild embrace that also included the ship's railing, he scarcely felt her grip. “Let him go!” she commanded the serpent. “Let him go, you bitch thing, you slimy sea-worm, you whore's ass! Let him go!”

The enfeebled serpent tugged on his booted leg, stretching him out over the water. Etta hauled determinedly back. The woman was stronger than he had thought. He saw more than felt the serpent set its teeth more firmly. Like a hot knife through butter, those teeth sheared through flesh and muscle. He had a glimpse of exposed bone, looking oddly honeycombed where the serpent's saliva ate into it. The creature turned its great head like a hooked fish, preparing to give a shake that would either tear him loose from the railing or snatch his leg from his body. Sobbing, Etta raised her weapon. “Damn you!” she screamed, “damn you, damn you, damn you!” Her puny blade fell, but not as Ke