Ben's NaNoWriMo Log

Chapter 42 added Sep 23, 2005
It was less than three weeks since the Just Reward's victory over Fortitude, and they were back at sea again. The mood of the crew was subdued. Sarah had explained the situation to them before they left Blood Tide, and gave them leave to stay behind. Every one of them had chosen to go with her. There was no treasure at stake this time, and a completely unknown amount of risk. Carathix had known the capabilities of both ships and men in their last two raids. What defenses a Church vessel might have was a mystery. Such an attack was completely unprecedented, unless you believed the stories the Church itself spread to vilify pirates. If anyone had ever tried such an attack, they hadn't lived to boast of it. In addition to the obvious risks to life and limb, they stood a significant chance of being excommunicated -- their souls would be condemned to eternal darkness. Despite their bravado and nautical superstitions. the thought cast a pall over the crew's morale. All of them had heard stories of the last reign of terror the Inquisition visited on the Kufriti people. Sarah was determined to keep such evil from happening again, and her crew were resolved to support her. They owed their fortunes to her, and no few owed their lives to her or one of her companions. Still, the mood was dark. As if summoned by their collective gloom, a low ceiling of gray clouds obscured the early morning sun. A steady drizzle had long since soaked them from head to toe. Carathix's gull shook itself as it perched on the ship's rail. He unhooked the silver charm from around its neck and sent it on its way. He turned to Sarah with a grim expression. "Did you get a good look at it?" she asked. "Sadly, yes." He shook his head. "From the looks of it I'd say it's a Kuning vessel, about the same tonnage as the Reward." Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Kuning?" "One of the Moril Duchies; their ships are widely regarded as near indestructible. Very expensive, but worth every penny if you can get your hands on one. A pirate's worst nightmare, especially if they get it in their heads to ram you." He pulled his cloak tighter about his shoulders, though it made him no drier. "Not many defenders that I could see on deck, but the ones I saw were wearing Inquisitor black. They'll fight to the death if it comes to it." "I see." Sarah chewed her lip as she contemplated their odds. "Any wizards aboard?" "No, but that doesn't mean much. The Church has never done more than tolerate wizardry in any of its forms. There's no way they'd trust the safety of one of their ships to a mage. They have their own ways, though; there's more to a priest's power than healing, you know." Sarah scowled as she recalled the day that had set her on this path so long ago. "I know it all too well." She nodded her head firmly. "We attack." This last was said to Mordial, who went to pass the word. "Are you sure this is wise?" asked Carathix after the first mate was out of earshot. "I am sure of nothing. But that's why we have a backup plan, right?" "I don't think the backup plan is much better," muttered Carathix, but he said no more on the subject. Wet ropes creaked as the sails were turned to catch the wind. The Just Reward eased forward through the choppy waves. Randall came up from the main deck to join Sarah. He was dressed in uncharacteristically sober attire, blending in with the rest of the crew. No amount of swagger and flash would rattle the dour Inquisitors. He laid a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "The men are ready. Just get us close enough to board and they'll do what needs to be done." Sarah nodded. She knew that it would be a difficult battle -- perhaps a hopeless one -- but she had come too far to turn back now. Her hat kept the rain from dripping into her eyes, but the weather still cut visibility to barely a mile. Slowly, a shape began to materialize through the haze of rain. It was a wide, pot bellied hull, cutting through the water like a bull fording a river. The forbidding black sails blazed with the burning white sun of the Inquisition. White letters across her bow spelled out the name Scourge. The Reward was coming in at a sharp angle toward the Church ship's bow. Sarah slowly eased her vessel into a parallel course that would bring the two ships alongside each other. There was no doubt that they had been spotted as well, but the black ship made no alteration to her own heading. Carathix had moved to the top of the main mast as they approached. As the two ships drew nearer still, he launched a stream of golden fire toward the billowing black sails. It arced across the waves, painting both ships with shimmering light. Before it could reach its target, however, the fire splashed harmlessly on an invisible barrier, skittering down its ovoid surface to fall, hissing, into the water. Sarah looked up to the crow's nest to see Carathix shaking his head. Sarah ordered her archers to the port rail. They arrayed themselves near the bow and began sending volleys of arrows toward the enemy ship. The black-cloaked soldiers moved to the Scourge's rail, kneeling behind the high wall that framed the black ship's deck. Crossbows appeared at the top of the rail, and the returning fire streaked across in nearly straight lines. The cluster of archers scattered as quarrels ripped through their position. They returned fire, but there was little for them to target except for planks and steel helms. Before Sarah could think of a response to the Scourge's defenses, she saw a tall, pale-skinned man emerging from the ship's rear cabin. Though she had only seen him twice, Ignatius was unmistakable. He was unarmored and standing unprotected amidships. The Reward's archers were only too happy to see an easy target, and took aim. Ignatius calmly raised his hands. White light streamed from his eyes, and a dozen archers froze with their bows half-drawn. A thrum of crossbows felled the transfixed men like trees. The two ships were passing now, their rails but a few yards apart. There were deck-mounted grapples on the Reward that could draw the them together even at this speed, but Sarah would not subject her men to what would surely be a massacre. Carathix had returned to the deck, and stood now before Sarah. "What now?" he asked. "We run." She locked eyes with Ignatius as they sailed past each other. Even though it had been nearly four years for him, she could see the recognition in the priest's eyes. "He will follow."
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