“Now, mate, are you thinkin’ Capt’ Red Whale would have abandoned his crew to be slaughtered in their sleep? Oh, ya pain me, Fishbum! Why, I’d never have slid over the side on a night like that! No, there’ll be no blood runnin’ this night—them Wrackshees want slaves, not dead beasts. We goes over the side to have a chance of savin’ the crew, not to let ’em be roasted!”
Time was shorter than desired, however. Red Whale had not completed cheering up his mate when the first of the Wracksee kayaks came around the bow. Seeing the outlines of the Wrackshees against the same starry sky he’d looked on with such joy shortly before, Red Whale motioned silently to Fishbum. Taking deep gulps of air, they submerged silently and followed the side of the ship underwater toward the stern. Surfacing twice to take nips of fresh air, Red Whale and Fishbum reached the rudder without causing notice.
Clinging to the rudder chains, heads low and in the shadows, they listened to the nearly soundless attack of the Wrackshees. The Wrackshees approached the Daring Dream at speed, but so quietly that Red Whale guessed they mush have their paddles wrapped to muffle the sound. The kayaks approached and encircled the ship completely. Red Whale noted that most of the Wrackshee boats were highly maneuverable, one-beast kayaks, capable of swift and agile attack. Behind the onrushing wave of attackers, he also could see several large catamarans and some smaller, single-sail skiffs. He took note that the catamarans hung back, taking no part in the attack, and that each skiff carried two Wrackshee archers. The skiffs took up position within bow range at regular points around Daring Dream, apparently to provide cover for the attackers if needed.
When the circle was complete, the majority closed on the ship and the attackers used small grappling hooks to secure climbing ropes on all sides. As soon as the hooks were thrown, the Wrackshees threw flash gourds up on the deck. As explosions rocked the Daring Dream, the attackers leapt up the ropes and boarded the ship from all sides.
Because Red Whale and Fishbum had been the ship’s watch detail, the surprise was complete. The crew ran up from their bunks below, but in complete confusion. Unprepared for an attack, and finding the main deck swarming with an overwhelming force of Wrackshees, the crew surrendered without violence. A huge Wrackshee, with bulging arms and a head of long, shaggy orange hair, shouted in a lion-like, roaring voice, so that all the outlying Wrackshee kayaks might hear: “The ship is ours! Kayaks to the side—come to me! There’ll be no escaping now. Every beast is subdued and disarmed—and such a liver-hearted, sleepy-headed crew! Such a sorry lot o’ seabeasts I never saw! Why they’re so easy o’ surrender that we’ve no need to scrape the decks with their heads! Who is the weak-kneed captain here?”
“That would be myself,” Katteo Jor’Dane announced boldly, stepping forward. “And might I inquire if you are you the slug-brained chief of these smelly thugs?” she continued sarcastically.
The Wrackshee leader tilted his head and eyed Katteo dangerously. “And who might this be who’s first to be volunteerin’ for me to scrape the deck with her face?” Although the main drift of the question was decidedly unpleasant, the look betrayed surprise and uncertainty.
Katteo was quick to pick up on the surprised curiosity in the Wrackshee’s look. “Aye, mate,” Katteo said with a rasping, threatening voice, “we sliced the spleens of our previous Captain into ribbons and fed him to the sharks. Then we got hit by the hurricane and battled the waves for days—so, yes, we was takin’ a little rest. But, I’ll be thankin’ you not to bad-mouth my crew, Dog-breath—or, Ol’ Suzy here might be tempted to just decide to spend no more time on you!” Instantly, Katteo revealed a cutlass concealed under her sea-cloak. Pulling the blade out dramatically, the cutlass sliced a long arc toward the Wrackshee, just nicking his cheek enough for a thin line of red blood to appear amidst the orange fur. “That’s my calling card, Dog-breath,” Katteo laughed. You may have taken the ship, but you have not taken our spirit!”
Outraged that one of the Daring Dream crew would dare such an act, the Wrackshee leader stepped close to the upstart seabeast. “Yes, my bug-eating roach, I took your ship—and I care not about your spirit, because it will do you no good when you are sinking to the bottom of the sea.” Turning to the Wrackshee horde massed behind him, he gave the order: “No quarter for such a wildcat. Subdue her!”
Wrackshees swarmed forward, and in the blink of an eye, Katteo was disarmed and bound, head to toe, in ropes.