Haggart's Dawn Page 19

  “Oh,” was all he could say to that.

  9.

  “A tight formation of infantry should never be attacked directly. The best scenarios favour the long thin battle lines of the enemy that can be struck along their length.”

  - The Cavalryman's Primer

  “Lorse save us!” cried Talbert as the ship rolled almost beyond saving as another forty foot high wave drove it upwards. The crew were holding on for dear life, grabbing any rigging available whilst the Captain was laughing with a man the crew affectionately called 'Thomas the Red'. Haggart was stood on the port side, holding onto the railings and drinking from a tankard of the same vile liquid the sailors seemed to enjoy so much.

  “Your friend doesn't look like he has his sea legs yet!” said Thomas, pointing to Talbert who had closed his eyes as the vessel swayed sideways. They laughed and Haggart took another mouthful to warm his insides as he continued to watch the sea. It looked like a table cloth that a child was throwing into the air and making cotton waves with. It pulsed and throbbed and threatened to swallow them whole. Yet it couldn't seem to take them, bending their masts and pulling their sails to their limits, yet still unable to sink them. It was surprise enough that they hadn't lost any of their crew yet - a testimony to their skill on the sea.

  For two more days the sea refused to relent. Talbert had turned green and the Captain was sleeping off a hangover for most of the time until one night they felt the air calm itself and the sea gradually stop boiling beneath them. Talbert stumbled onto the deck as the sun rose and found Haggart already there, leaning against the mast and drinking his first coffee for a week.

  “Good morning, boy. Sleep well?” he said, offering him the cup. Talbert drank a little, then returned it.

  “No, I did not. It's not natural, all this time on the sea. How long before we arrive?” Haggart laughed.

  “Another three weeks my friend. That's if we're still on course after all that,” he said.

  “I'm not sure I can face another night, let alone three weeks more.”

  “Be thankful we have such a crew as this. I’ve not seen such skilful sailing since the war.”

  “I'd hate to see what lesser sailing would look like then,” said Talbert. “Ah, here comes the Captain himself. We think he's managed to swill most of the ale casks already.”

  “Be fair, there wasn't a drop of the stuff in the city.”

  “There won't be a drop anywhere at the rate he's drinking it.”

  The Captain walked across the deck and took a deep breath of the sea air. He had a mug of water in one hand and an apple in the other.

  “Mornin',” he said, gazing into the distance.

  “Morning, Captain,” replied Haggart. “The storm has finally broken.”

  “I never doubted it would.”

  “How's your head?”

  “Fine. Glad to have tasted a decent pint of ale since we left the pub. Thomas isn't a bad lad. He's got a cracking crew under him. Never seen such sailing.”

  “We were just saying the same,” said Talbert.

  “Anyway, he would like us to join him for breakfast. Bacon and eggs. Can't say no to that eh boys?”

  “As long as we don't have to keep calling him 'Thomas the Red',” said Talbert.

  Thomas' cabin was lavishly decorated yet both Haggart and the Captain had to stoop to enter it. The table had already been laid with choice silver cutlery and beautiful white plates marked in blue ink depicting famous naval battles of the King. Thomas the Red was sat at the head of the table and he rose from his chair as they entered.

  “Sit, sit, my good men. Welcome to my table. Glad we all weathered that storm eh?” They all sat, the Captain nearest to Thomas who seemed to have made him a good friend. Talbert sat unsteadily on a stool to Haggart's right still looking a little pale.

  “I assume we're back on course?” asked Haggart.

  “Aye. I checked the charts myself. Breakfast will be with us shortly, lads, I hope you still have appetites - though Talbert still looks a little green around the ears.” Thomas poured a generous amount of coffee from a kettle into four mugs. “The Captain was telling me you've seen your fair share of storms, Talbert,” he said, grinning.

  “Very funny,” replied Talbert.

  “So is this a trip home for you, Haggart? Time to see the family? You'll be amazed at how nothing has changed at Sturgenvad. It seems that no amount of commerce seems to be able to drag your people out of their ice caves and animal furs. Only last year did I dock at Minivad and the very same woman touted her bone jewellery as she had done the previous year and the one before that since my Father sailed this ship and his Father before him. I swear she must be near 100 years old!”

  “I haven't been home since I was a boy,” said Haggart. “To tell you the truth, I can't even remember the place all that clearly.”

  “A slave?”

  “No, I wasn't taken against my will. My parents decided to leave when we were born, my sisters and I.”

  “So what brings you here now, if not to see your tribe?”

  “We're following a friend of ours who has gone missing,” said the Captain. “We received word that he'd sailed to Minivad a number of years ago in order to return to Sturgenvad.”

  “Why? What is there for him?”

  “An inheritance he feels he's owed. We've come to find him and persuade him it won't be in his best interests to claim it.” Haggart nodded in agreement.

  “I feel sorry for him. I would not want you three 'persuading' me of anything,” said Thomas as a grizzled looking man entered the cabin with a tray. “Ah, thank you Cook.”

  “No problem, sir,” he replied and put a plate before each of them. The bacon smelt delicious.

  “Enjoy this my friends. We'll be eating watery oats before this journey is out.”

  “Nothing we haven't had to endure before,” said the Captain who had already devoured the bacon and was attacking the eggs. “Me and Haggart here once went a week with nothing more than a stale loaf of bread.”

  “How come?” asked Thomas who was picking at his meal with a minimal amount of enthusiasm.

  “We were on the run. Our Cavalry division had been split up after a rather bad encounter with the Council's troops. The war was fast coming to an end and so supplies were limited. Me and Haggart found ourselves cut off behind the Council's front lines with no packs, no horse and only the weapons in our hands. We had to walk it back to our own side whilst avoiding capture.”

  “How did you survive?” asked Thomas.

  “Well, we found this pub, you see. It was friendly to the King's cause - not openly, but when they recognised us from a visit a month earlier they put us up in the cellar, kept us hidden from Council scouts.”

  “And all you had was a loaf? Could they not have given you more?”

  “You misunderstand,” interrupted Haggart. “We only had a stale loaf to eat but the cellar was full of ale. We drank until we passed out each day, never thinking about food until the Council's lines moved south towards the city and we could escape.”

  “So...?” Thomas looked confused until he realised the joke and began laughing. It was only when there was a knock on the cabin door and a young boy entered that he lost his mirth. “What is it, boy?”

  “A ship sir. Off the port side. Three hours until they reach us.”

  “Friendly?”

  “No sir. Red sails.” Thomas the Red rose quickly from his chair. “Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me. It would appear we have run into pirates.”

  *

  The ship came about slowly, making what use it could of the gentle breeze that had so quickly replaced the gusts from the previous day. Still it loomed there, growing larger as the day wore on.

  “They'll row the rest of the way soon,” said the Captain as they stood on deck, watching and waiting.

  “True enough,” replied Haggart. “Best get ready to board.”

  “Where should I be?” asked Talbert. The Captain grinned.
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  “Up there.” He pointed to the crow's nest.

  “Surely not?”

  “It will give you the best chance of hitting something. You've never fought ship to ship have you?”

  “No.”

  “Well the sea is nice and calm now which means up there the sway won't be too bad. Take plenty of bolts with you whilst me and Haggart fight 'em off.”

  “Not sure I like the sounds of this,” he said.

  “Just get up there, boy. And don't put a bolt in us. Me and Haggart will get across as quickly as we can so keep your eyes on our decks. Your best chance will be when they try to grapple us. Kill as many as you can.”

  “Okay,” he said, turning even paler as he looked up the mast.

  “Go on then,” said the Captain, giving him a push. “Up you go.”

  Talbert made his way slowly up the rigging whilst trying his hardest not to look down. Around them the crew were handing out dirks and swords and buckets of water to douse torches. Thomas the Red had gone down to his cabin to arm himself, coming back out bare chested and carrying two short swords with brass guards.

  “Don't want to drown in steel, boys,” he said. They'd both shed their leather armour in favour of their cotton shirts and Haggart carried only his sword and shield. The Captain had two smaller axes and a dirk on his belt.

  “Have you fought off many of them before?” asked Haggart as the ship began to bristle with oars like the legs of an insect. It would only be minutes now before they came along side them.

  “Aye. On a few occasions. The crew are keen but they'll be all the more fierce by the sight of you two. What's your plan?”

  “Get aboard quickly, make for their leader. You?” asked the Captain.

  “I'll hold the decks. Can't afford for them to get in amongst us.” The ship was clearly visible now, it's crew leaning against the rails and jeering the men of the King's Bane. As the ship began to come alongside, Haggart readied himself. It was the first combat he'd faced since waking from death-sleep and he did his best to push the worries he had from his mind. The Captain looked at him and seemed to understand what was happening in his heart.

  “Don't worry, Haggart. You'll be fine. Just stay with me,” he said, smiling. Haggart returned the grin and gripped the sword of Alfred Dern tighter.

  As the first grapples were thrown, the first of Talbert's bolts found their mark. Three crewmen fell into the water between the ships and the others roared in anger. The hulls smashed into each other and the crew of the King's Bane leapt across decks to engage the pirates. Haggart and the Captain jumped with them, landing amongst the crew of the enemy ship with a terrifying cry. Haggart slew the first pirate easily, slicing down his back after striking his face with the boss of his shield. The Captain buried his axe in the shoulder of one and turned to hack at the arm of another. Haggart was with him and with a single stroke of his sword he sliced into the pirate's thigh, spraying the deck with his blood.

  “Haggart - their leader!” yelled the Captain as a figure darted past him towards the cabin doors at the other end of the ship. He turned and gave chase but soon he'd disappeared and several of his crew stood guard before the doors. The Captain charged them with a feral roar. The first died quickly with his axe buried in his skull. The second met Haggart head on, slashing his shield over and over until he panted with exhaustion. When his sword arm lowered, Haggart rushed under his guard and slid the point of his sword between his ribs, the blade exiting through his back. The third pirate panicked and ran, only to find himself surrounded by several of Thomas the Red's crew.

  “Let's see if he's home,” said Haggart, kicking down the door. They burst into darkness, their eyes adjusting to the gloom too slowly. The pirate leader ran past them the moment the gap between them looked wide enough. The Captain swung his axe and missed. It cut into the door frame and stuck just as Haggart turned to swing. The tip of his sword caught the back of the leader and sliced across shoulders causing him to stumble. As he hit the deck a bolt suddenly appeared in his back, pinning him to the planks. The Captain looked up at Talbert in the crow's nest and nodded.

  “We might make a soldier out of him yet,” he said.

  The rest of the crew continued to fight to the very last man rather than be taken prisoner. Haggart fought and killed three more before the last man fell to the dirk of the bosun. Thomas the Red came over to them, the pirate ship now his and he laughed, wiping the blood from his blade on the body of the leader.

  “Bloody good scuffle, that was. You boys are pretty ferocious!” he said. “I'm going below deck if you want to join me. Let's see if it was worth the blood.”

  “How many of your own men did you lose?” asked Haggart as they made for the hatch. He was dripping in sweat and it cooled on his back.

  “None. I think the scum lost heart when they saw you two leap across. My boys slaughtered 'em.”

  The hatch was narrow and the three of them climbed a steep ladder down to the hold carefully. Two of Thomas' men were already down there inspecting the crates and barrels.

  “Anything of value, boys?” said Thomas.

  “Plenty of scran and grog. Some bolts of fabric taken from a trader. And that...” They turned to follow the finger of the crewman, to the largest crate in the dark belly of the ship. Haggart, attuned now to the presence of the machines where ever he found them, shook his head.

  “Throw it into the sea,” he said to Thomas. “As quickly as possible.”

  “Why on earth would I do that?” he replied. “What's in there?”

  “A curse upon you, your crew and your ship,” said the Captain.

  “Can it escape if we open it?” said Thomas, thinking that it was some kind of beast.

  “It's a machine,” said Haggart. “Though it lives and feeds like a living being. It must be destroyed.”

  Thomas stared at them both, clearly angered by their irrational claims over something that might fetch him a fair price. But he looked at the Captain and saw him nod once. Slowly. Solemnly. Then he sighed and turned to the crewman and said, “Ready the tackle. I want that thing in the deep before nightfall.”

  “Aye, sir,” was the reply and he ran up the ladder to organise a work party. Turning to Haggart, he said,

  “Can I at least see it without coming to harm?”

  “It might be wise to do so. Then at least you will recognise it again one day should you be asked to ship one.”

  “Are they really this terrible?”

  The Captain went over to the crate and found a prise bar to open it with. The wood splintered and cracked apart until the first planks dropped and the sickly-green glow of the machine spilled out into the hold. A tube whipped through the gap, fixing onto the Captain's arm and Thomas the Red let slip a cry of shock. Haggart grabbed it and pulled it off him.

  “What in the name of Naybo was that?” said Thomas, backing away from it.

  “That is how it feeds,” said the Captain, wiping the ooze from the bites the thing had given him.

  “It eats... people?”

  “Yes.”

  Pale and sweating, Thomas the Red continued to shake his head in dismay. Then he turned and climbed back up the ladder. Haggart and the Captain followed just as the great hatch was opened and the first ropes lowered into the hold.

  “None of you, I mean no one, is to touch that... thing,” roared Thomas to his men. “Cast it into the deep. The sea will bury this evil.” The crew looked on in terror as their own leader stood at the mouth of the hatch, his face almost death-like and his eyes burning into the crate.

  “Sailors are superstitious enough,” whispered the Captain to Haggart. “Thomas will not want that thing on his ship, nor I suppose will he ever now.”

  “Perhaps we have an ally,” said Haggart. Talbert appeared and the Captain slapped him hard on his back.

  “Well done, boy. That was some good work there.”

  “Thanks, though I'm a little shaken. I don't think I like heights,” he replied. “Did I get
the leader?”

  “I reckon so,” said Haggart who led him to the corpse just before the crew were about to throw him overboard. Talbert recovered his bolt.

  “Nice,” said Talbert. Haggart shook his head.

  They all stood along the rails and watched as the machine was dropped into the ocean with a terrific splash. Haggart swore he felt it scream inside his mind as it plunged into the deep. Thomas the Red cheered as it went and the crew roared along with him. The sun was setting and the twilight brought with it a cold chill and as the crew returned to their business, Thomas came towards them.

  “You will take your meal with me in the cabin. Bring an explanation with you - one that is better than some fanciful story about inheritance,” he said and stormed off towards his quarters.

  “I like him,” said the Captain. “But I'm not sure what we should tell him and what we shouldn't.”

  “The minimal. Enough to make sure he doesn't help Jurgenbraw move more of these cursed machines,” said Haggart.

  “Did you see how it went for me?”

  “It must hunger if left unfed. What could possibly be inside that device?”

  “We will find out, I guess.”

  The supper was superb given that most of the meat came from the plundered pirate ship which was now on its way to Thomas the Red's secret harbour on the north side of the island of Slow. It went with a skeleton crew who were more than pleased to be sailing the prize home.

  “They're getting a month off, that's why they're happy,” said Thomas as the wine was served. He smoked from a clay pipe as he patted his stomach. “A month of grog and women on Slow. Bastards. Still, that ship will be sold for a fair price.”

  “The man you sent...?” said Haggart.

  “Ah yes, the cook's son. What about him?”

  “He seems to be an able seaman.”

  “Aye, he is. He's served under me most of his life, along with his father. It's him I want to take over this ship when I’ve put enough away to retire.”