Another volley rained, peppering the deck. Boatswain Bristol, in the process of cranking the ballista for a second shot, fell dead with an arrow in his throat, his hair catching fire. Basil, the officers’ cook, took one in the chest, and Seaman Bliden screamed as two arrows hit him, one in the thigh, and the other through his hand. Looking up, Hadrian saw this second volley came from the other ship.
Shaken but not seriously harmed, Poe found another oil bucket and brought it to Hadrian. As the two ships came closer, Hadrian found what he was looking for—a bucket at the feet of the archers. Leading his target, he held his breath, took aim, and released. The tartane’s bucket exploded. Hadrian spotted a young Dacca attempt to douse the flames with water. Instantly the fire washed the deck. At that moment, the Storm’s ballista crew, having loaded the weapon with multiple bolts this time, released a cruel hail on the passing Dacca. Screams bridged the gap between the ships as the Storm sailed on, leaving the burning ships in its wake.
Once more the crew cheered their victory, but it was hollow. Amid the blackened scorch marks left by scores of arrows, a dozen men lay dead on the deck. They had not slipped through the trap unscathed, and the red sails behind them were closer now.
When night fell, the captain ordered the off-crew, including Hadrian and Royce, below deck to rest. On the way they grabbed their old gear from the galley, and the two took the opportunity to change into their cloaks and tunics. Hadrian strapped on his swords. It brought a few curious looks, but no one said a word.
Not a single man slept, and few even sat. Most paced with their heads bowed to avoid the short ceiling, but perhaps this time they were also praying. Many of the crew had appeared superstitious, but none religious—until now.
“Why don’t we put inland?” Seaman Davis asked his fellow sailors. “The coast’s only a few miles off. We could put in and escape into the jungle.”
“Coral shoals ring the shores of Calis,” Banner said, scraping the surface of the table with a knife. “We’d rip the bottom of the Storm a mile out, and the Dacca would have it. Besides, the captain ain’t gonna abandon his ship and run.”
“Captain Seward is an arse!”
“Watch yer mouth, lad!”
“Why? What’s he gonna do that can be worse than the Dacca?”
To that, Banner had no answer. No one did. Fear spread through the crew—fear of certain death and the poison that comes from waiting idly for it. Hadrian knew from countless battles the folly of leaving men to stagnate with nothing else to occupy their thoughts.
The hatch opened and everyone looked up to see Wyatt and Poe.
“What’s the word?” Davis asked.
“It won’t be long now, men. Make ready what you need to. The captain will call general quarters soon, I expect.”
Wyatt paused at the bottom of the ladder and spoke quietly with Grady and Derning. They nodded, then went aft. Wyatt motioned with his eyes for Hadrian and Royce to follow him forward. Only empty hammocks filled the cramped space, leaving them enough privacy to speak.
“So, what’s this plan?” Royce whispered.
“We can’t win a fight,” Wyatt told them. “All we can hope to do is run.”
“You said the Storm can’t outrun them,” Hadrian reminded him.
“I wasn’t planning on outrunning them in the Storm.”
Hadrian and Royce exchanged glances.
“The Dacca will want her and the cargo. That’s why we made it through the blockade so easily. They were trying to slow us, not stop us. If I had followed Seward’s orders, we’d all be dead now. As it is, I only bought us a few hours, but they were needed.”
“Needed for what, exactly?” Royce asked.
“For darkness. The Dacca can’t see any better at night than we can, and while they take the Storm, we’ll escape. They’ll bring as many of their ships alongside as they can to overwhelm our decks by sheer numbers. When they board us, a party of men I’ve handpicked will take one of the tartanes. We’ll cut the ship free and, with luck, get clear of the Storm before they see us. In the darkness and the confusion of battle, it might work.”
They both nodded.
Wyatt motioned to Hadrian. “I want you to lead the boarding party. I’ll signal you from the quarterdeck.”
“What are you going to be doing?” Royce asked.
“You mean what are we going to be doing? I didn’t come all this way not to find Allie. You and I will use the distraction to break into the captain’s quarters and steal any orders or parchments we find. Just watch me. You’ll know when.”
“What about the elves below?” Royce asked.
“Don’t worry about them. The Dacca want the ship intact. In all likelihood, they will treat them better than the New Empire has.”
“Who’s in this team of yours?” Hadrian asked.
“Poe, of course, Banner, Grady—”
“All hands on deck!” Temple shouted from above as drums thundered.
“See you above, gentlemen,” Wyatt said while heading for the hold.
The sky was black. Invisible clouds covered the stars and shrouded the sliver of moon. Darkness wrapped the sea, a shadowy abyss where only the froth at the bow revealed the presence of water. Behind them, Hadrian saw nothing.