“Curse me for a freshwater fisherman, but we had heaved to only a few miles north of the headlands above your lighthouse. If we’d sailed a little longer, we would have been safely in Crydee harbor two days ago.”
Arutha and the others said nothing. Trask continued, “They went through my cargo holds and started tossing things overboard, no matter what. Over five hundred fine Quegan broadswords, over the side. Pikes, lances, longbows, everything—I guess to keep any of it from reaching Crydee somehow. They didn’t know what to do with the Quegan fire oil —the barrels would’ve needed a dock hoist to get them out of the hold —so they left it alone. But they made sure there wasn’t a weapon aboard that wasn’t in their hands. Then some of the little land rats got dressed up in those black rags, swam ashore, and started down the coast toward the lighthouse. While they were going, the rest were praying, on their knees rocking back and forth, except for a few with bows watching my crew. Then all of a sudden, about three hours after sundown, they’re up and kicking my men around, pointing to the harbor on the map.
“We set sail and headed down the coast. The rest you know. I guess they judged you would not expect an attack from seaward.”
Fannon said, “They judged correctly. Since their last raid we’ve patrolled the forests heavily. They couldn’t get within a day’s march of Crydee without our knowing. This way they caught us unawares.” The old Swordmaster sounded tired and bitter. “Now the town is destroyed, and we’ve a courtyard filled with terrified townsmen.”
Trask also sounded bitter. “They put most of their men ashore quickly, but left two dozen to slaughter my men.” An expression of pain crossed his face. “They were a hard lot, my lads, but on the whole good enough men. We didn’t know what was happening until the first of my boys began to fall from the spars with Tsurani arrows in them, waving like little flags as they hit the water. We thought they were going to have us take them out again. My boys put up a struggle then, you can bet. But they didn’t start soon enough. Marlinspikes and belayin’ pins can’t stand up to men with swords and bows.”
Trask sighed deeply, the pain on his face as much from his story as from his injury. “Thirty-five men. Dock rats, cutthroats, and murderers all, but they were my crew. I was the only one allowed to go killing them. I cracked the skull of the first Tsurani who came at me, took his sword, and killed another. But the third one knocked it from my hand and ran me through.” He barked a short, harsh-sounding laugh. “I broke his neck. I passed out for a time. They must have thought me dead. The next I knew, the fires were going and I started yelling. Then I saw you come up the gangway.”
Arutha said, “You’re a bold man, Amos Trask.”
A look of deep pain crossed the large man’s face. “Not bold enough to keep my ship, Highness. Now I’m nothing more than another beached sailor.”
Tully said, “Enough for now. Arutha, you need rest.” He put his hand on Amos Trask’s shoulder. “Captain, you’d do well to follow his example. Your wound is more serious than you admit. I’ll take you to a room where you can rest.”
The captain rose, and Arutha said, “Captain Trask.”
“Yes, Highness?”
“We have need of good men here in Crydee.”
A glimmer of humor crossed the seaman’s face. “I thank you, Highness. Without a ship, though, I don’t know what use I could be.”
Arutha said, “Between Fannon and myself, we’ll find enough to keep you busy.”
The man bowed slightly, restricted by his wounded side. He left with Tully. Carline kissed Arutha on the cheek, saying, “Rest now.” She took away the broth and was escorted from the room by Fannon. Arutha was asleep before the door closed.
SEVENTEEN - Attack
Carline lunged.
She thrust the point of her sword in a low line, aiming a killing blow for the stomach. Roland barely avoided the thrust by a strong beat of his blade, knocking hers out of line. He sprang back and for a moment was off balance. Carline saw the hesitation and lunged forward again.
Roland laughed as he suddenly leaped away, knocking her blade aside once more, then stepping outside her guard. Quickly tossing his sword from right hand to left, he reached out and caught her sword arm at the wrist, pulling her, in turn, off balance. He swung her about, stepping behind her. He wrapped his left arm around her waist, being careful of his sword edge, and pulled her tightly to him. She struggled against his superior strength, but while he was behind her, she could inflict no more than angry curses on him. “It was a trick! A loathsome trick,” she spat.