Surely the bells didn't wake him? They were such a constant presence that they were simply part of the background noise of the ship. He heard a crash, followed by the sound of a man cursing under his breath.
Miro looked to where his armoursilk hung on a peg behind the door. He felt down to where his zenblade lay on the floor, stretched along the length of his bed. Miro gripped the handle and raised himself up, feeling the weight of the sword comforting in his hands, yet realising it would be difficult if not impossible to use the long weapon in the cramped confines of the ship.
What was happening outside? Was he overreacting to one of the officers stumbling around after too much drink?
Miro heard a scream.
"Amber!" he shouted, leaping off the bed.
The door to Miro's cabin crashed open and two strangers rushed into the compartment, cutlasses in their hands. Both were bare-chested sailors, big, brawny men with deep chests and arms like ropes.
What was happening?
The first man had a pock-marked face and greying hair. He snarled and thrust out with the short cutlass, while the second man, a tattooed sailor Miro recognised, came around behind his friend and raised his weapon, poised to strike.
Miro dodged to the side, coming up against the cabin wall while the cutlass cut the air where his abdomen had been. Cursing the limited space around him, he swore and dropped his zenblade.
What in the Skylord's name was going on? These men weren't trying to subdue him. They were trying to kill him.
The pock-marked sailor attacked again, cutting sideways with his sword, once, twice. Miro was too tall to duck, and the ceiling was too low for him to jump. As his attacker came in Miro grabbed the thick copy of Toro Marossa's Explorations from the ledge beside his bed. He blocked the sailor's sweeping cut, feeling the blade bite into the book. The sailor came closer, obstructing his tattooed ally, and the next time he attacked Miro again blocked with the book and then smashed his fist into the man's pock-marked face.
He put everything he could into the blow, and with a wide-eyed expression of surprise, the pock-marked sailor went down.
The tattooed swordsman now came forward, and Miro could see from his stance that he was the more formidable opponent. Grunting, the tattooed sailor feinted and then hacked at Miro's torso. Miro saw the feint, but this time when he blocked, the cutlass cut through the book and opened up the skin below Miro's armpit. Miro felt wetness on his side, and the tattered halves of the book fell out of his hands.
With a look of triumph on his face, Miro's attacker came in for the kill.
The door to the cabin crashed back against the wall as yet another sailor, a huge man with a broken nose, came in, his expression murderous.
The cabin door swung on its hinges, and Miro again saw his armoursilk, hanging on a peg.
The tattooed man raised his cutlass to strike.
Miro shouted a series of activation sequences, turning his head so he wouldn't be blinded.
The armoursilk flared up, as bright as the sun. A sudden burst of heat washed from it, and the huge broken-nosed sailor screamed in pain.
Miro's assailant shied at the commotion, and in that instant Miro attacked.
He turned from a side-on position, using the twisting of his body to generate as much force as possible. His fist crashed into the side of the tattooed man's head. Miro followed it with a series of blows at the sailor's chest.
The tattooed sailor attempted to swing his cutlass, but Miro came in close, butting his head against his opponent's nose, feeling the crunch as he crushed it against the man's skull. Miro hit the same spot again, and the tattooed man's eyes rolled back in his head as he went down. Miro quickly squatted and took the cutlass.
He was now armed, with a weapon more suited to his environment.
The broken-nosed sailor's hair was singed, but Miro hadn't been able to call forth the full power of the armoursilk; it was too dangerous on a wooden ship. The huge man's face was distorted with rage and his mouth twisted as he growled.
Yet Miro was armed, and his enemy didn't stand a chance.
A woman screamed.
"Amber!" Miro cried in anguish.
"We have your woman, Alturan," a voice called from outside the cabin. "Throw down any weapons and come out with your hands empty."
"I don't believe you," Miro called.
"I have a dagger at her throat."
Miro recognised the voice of the first mate, Julian Carver. Miro cursed and threw the cutlass to the floor. Looking warily at the broken-nosed sailor, he stepped towards the door, moving past the huge man.
As Miro opened the cabin door wide, the broken-nosed sailor punched Miro's kidney.
The pain was indescribable, and Miro crumpled to the floor. Stars burst in his vision and for a moment he didn't know where he was.