Spelljammer story, Chunk 4

(2619 words)

Even as I realized how dark my situation with the Songmaster had just become, I heard a shout of warning from behind me. Instinctively, I ducked. Just in time, as a cutlass whirled over my head. One of the marines had gotten free of the melee long enough to try a swing at my head. Luckily, the crew were watching out for me. I glanced about quickly, trying to assess the situation. The five surviving marines were still grouped together, trying to stay in their circle and prevent the crew from getting behind them, and not incidentally, protecting the Songmaster. They were devoting most of their attention to the Jewel men in front of them, but they were clearly keeping half an eye on me, and I knew that if I turned to attack one, the elf bitch would use the opening to gut me - not a prospect I relished.
As I scanned the combatants, I realized that the fight could be iffy. All the marines were now at least slightly bloodied, but none were showing signs of slowing, and several of our men now sported wounds as well. One halfling had fallen back entirely, and was cradling a wound to the arm that looked very deep. Then, just as I glanced back towards the bow of the ship, and the Songmaster, ready to defend myself against her, I heard another pistol crack. There was a nasty whizzing noise and a sharp gust of wind, and I felt a slight tug from my hair on the right side of my head. Behind me, a marine gave a choked cry, and I felt him fall. Jonis, the human who had been fighting him, took advantage of his collapse and the surprise of the marine to his side to step in and land a solid blow to the standing marine's ribs. I heard them crunch, and the marine was down on one knee, wheezing. And now the crew of the Jewel was rushing, pushing the marines back and away from the flitter, and breaking their circle.
I was too busy shuddering at the closeness of my shave to care much, though. I raised a hand to my head, and felt a ragged place where hair had been sheared away. I looked up and glared at Captain Blake, still holding his smoking pistol. He tossed it away, gave me a grin in response, and drew his rapier, charging down the deck. I returned my attention to my own fight, resolving to have a sharp word with the captain in private, later. Marksman he might be, but there was such a thing as overconfidence.
A fact I was quickly reminded of myself, as my momentary distraction almost got me a sword in the eye. I parried desperately again, taking a step back to open the distance a bit. The blurred form of the elf followed me, and I heard a low chuckle. In other circumstances, it would have been appealing. Given the subject matter, though, I found it hard to appreciate. I snarled "What's so funny? In a minute or two, you'll be dead. Even if you get me, there's still a lot of us left. And we're not about to let you get to your flitter.
From out of the blur where I figured her face to be, I heard her response. "I'm laughing because you're concentrating on preventing the wrong people escaping. And you might want to check the status of our ship again."
I twisted my head to look backwards, and groaned. The flitter had just started to move, and both Rudy and Olaf were simply staring at it in shock. The damned third officer must have gotten past them with all the noise, and now was trying to lift the flitter off and escape to the man-o-war. My heart sank. If the third officer returned to the elven vessel, he would be able to report our names and faces to the elven command all too easily. The name of the ship didn't matter - the Jewel had had three names in as many months - but if the Navy knew who we all were, we'd never be able to do business in elven space again. If we escaped it with our lives, that is.
And another slash from the infernal elf woman's cutlass was coming at my face! She had taken advantage of my distraction again, and was pressing her attack. I parried desperately, retreating across the deck, as behind me I saw the flitter give an almost alive shiver and move silently out into the void. Behind the Songmaster, I could see the other three marines in trouble, with two crew members apiece fighting each one, the captain's rapier stabbing precisely, and no hope of escape. But no matter who won any of the fights on the deck, we had already lost.
And then our salvation appeared, in a shape very difficult to distinguish from doom. Between the Jewel of the Stars and the man-o-war, space rippled and shimmered, and seemed to peel back from an elegant, deadly form. As suddenly as an uncovered lantern, a great raven was hovering in space. It was smaller than either the man-o-war or us, but I realized it didn't matter. Small it might be, but it had the drop on us, and that was what mattered now. Even as I thought it, the raven's sides seemed to explode with bright flashes, as it opened up with both broadsides on the ships bracketing us.
I flung myself to the deck, and I could see the blur of the Songmaster doing the same next to me. The Jewel shuddered and rocked, and I felt wood splinters hit my head and hands. I looked up just in time to see the flitter struck in its port wing. The cannonball simply ripped the fragile cloth and wood of the wing clean off, and carried it over our deck, out into the void on the other side of the ship. The flitter banked sharply portwise, any chance of steering it gone with the loss of its wing. It heaved over, and crashed into the stern of the Jewel, half on its side. I suddenly realized that we had a chance, although it was a slim one at best.
I scrambled to my feet, and something caught my eye. A cutlass was lying only a yard away, just beyond the blur that was the Songmaster. In one quick step, I reached it, and kicked the hilt. I connected cleanly, and it sailed up and over the side of the ship. There was a shout of rage from the elf, and the blur quickly became vertical as well. But now I had a much better chance. Without her cutlass, the elf could not threaten me nearly as effectively, even if I couldn't see her. And behind her, I saw something that could end the fight in a moment. I lunged forward, bringing my blade down in a sweep aimed at her middle. As expected, I didn't connect. But she moved back a pace, obviously wanting to keep out of my way. I advanced with her, sweeping my blade back and forth. She continued to retreat. After five steps, I made my move. I suddenly lunged, aiming a straight thrust directly at where I guessed her heart was. She jumped back even more quickly, trying to avoid the reach of the cutlass. And suddenly she found her feet falling out from beneath her, as they became tangled in the net spread across the deck. She hit the boards with a thud, and I shouted "Now!".
Olaf and Rudy darted forward, dragging the edges of the net. They had snapped out of their surprise from the escape of the flitter, and had quickly realized what I was doing when I started herding the Songmaster backwards. In a trice, they had twisted the folds of the net around the elf woman, and tied the ropes at the corners off on some of the ever-present belaying pins. I nodded quick thanks to the halfings, left the elf cursing in the net, and sprinted towards the bow.
The fight with the marines was just ending. One had sank to his knees, blood gushing from a vicious wound to his side where a boathook had penetrated. I could see the white of bone poking out of the hole, and knew that the hook had caught a rib. I gave him bad odds of survival. That sort of wound is touchy even with someone who knows some magical healing, and we didn't have anyone like that on board. Nor time to give it, even if we did. The second marine was sitting with his back against the wall of the poop deck, a dazed look in his eyes, blood trickling down his face from a nasty bash on his forehead, and two halflings standing above him with belaying pins in hand. The third had been backed to the rail of the ship, and now he carefully dropped his cutlass and raised his arms in surrender, the captain's rapier pricking his throat.
As I sprinted up, the captain was already shouting orders. "Tie those two up. Pitch the third over the side. Two of you, stand guard! The rest, get on the rigging! We have to get out of here!" The crew scattered, and the captain charged up the stairs to the wheel. I followed after, and began scanning the sky. The raven ship was moving up. Sensibly, it's crew didn't want to stay between two warships who might be able to return its broadsides, once their gunners got to work. The raven ship moved with a grace and smoothness. Unlike a man-o-war, this grace had an... austere quality to it. Elven ships looked like works of art, graceful dancers through the sky. The raven ship, like all orc vessels, had a grace that had nothing to do with art. It was the pure deadly purpose of a skilled swordsman. The man-o-war danced through the sky, but the raven ship sliced through it, like the killing stroke of a sword.
I knew, in a fair fight, that any one of the ships in the sky right now might be able to defeat the other. But the fight was not fair any longer. The man-o-war was crippled - our fire had seen to that. And the Jewel had just taken damage. How much, I had to assess. Whereas the raven ship was fresh, and unwounded. And on our best day, we weren't faster than it. I gave a heartfelt little groan, and the captain nodded at the sound. "Looks like you're going to have to use our little secret here, Raphael. Pity. We were close. Well, Fate takes no moves back. Better get ready." I nodded, and began to prepare myself. This would be dangerous.
I quickly pulled some red chalk out of my belt pouch. I always kept it handy, just in case I needed to do this in a hurry. I traced out a circle on the deck, about three yards wide, well out of the way of the path of anyone who would have to cross the deck in a hurry. Once the circle was done, I began a low chant, drawing in certain sigils at significant points on the edge of the circle. As I chanted and drew, I could feel the tension in the air begin to sing. This magic was different than my usual path. I could feel no energy departing me. Instead, senses that had nothing to do with the traditional five began to whisper to me, telling me that someplace else was now getting a lot closer. Energy began to gather, and I felt like a man sitting beside an aqueduct, hearing the rumble of the water, separated from him only by a wall of stone.
I finished the last diagram, and stood. Ten seconds, maybe, had passed since I had begun. I spoke the last word, sharply, and suddenly the power was there. Energy came from elsewhere, and my spell changed it into flame. Within my cupped hand, a spark ignited, and swiftly grew into a glowing orb of flame. I smiled tightly, but I couldn't celebrate yet. I focused on the fire, and fed more energy into it. The ball grew only slightly larger, but much brighter, from the warm red of a campfire to the bright white at the heart of a forge. When I had fed as much energy as I could into the spell, I looked about me for my target.
The raven ship had now pulled well ahead of both the Jewel and the man-o-war, and it was beginning to turn, one wing dipping as it banked, almost like a real bird. If I hadn't known about the savage horde of orcs on board, no doubt itching to slit our throats and steal everything of value in the ship, it might almost have been beautiful. As it was, I kept my eyes locked on its starboard wing, and waited. I had to get this right. The raven ship swooped back toward us, and I saw that I had guessed right. The raven was headed back for us. It meant to come in along our starboard side this time, no doubt ready to unload another broadside into us and cripple the Jewel completely. Well, I didn't intend to give them the chance. I held my eye on the broad flat of the raven ship's wing, and aimed carefully. I had all the time in the world, and there was no sense in rushing things.
The raven ship was almost directly to starboard of us when I acted. It had come in close, only fifty yards off our beam. I could see orcs lining the railings, vicious sabers ready to hand, and orcish cannoneers waiting only the command to fire. Well, I was going first. I hurled the ball of fire, at the last moment allowing another rush of energy loose to guide it to its destination. The ball streaked out, and struck the broad wing of the raven ship. There was a flash, and I could hear the shouts of the orcs as they realized what had happened. But it was too late. Already, the flames had caught on the black feathers that covered the bamboo framework of the raven ship's wing, and the blaze was going nicely. They probably had spells on the ship to protect it from ordinary flame, but my fire was as magical as it came.
All along the side of the raven ship, there was a series of flashes. I realized that someone on board must have given the command to fire, and the cannons had let loose. Down our deck, I saw railings go splintering, barrels explode, and, far more horribly, two humans who had not been able to dodge were simply cut in half by the vicious lead balls. But the result could have been far worse. My fire must have caused the raven ship to tilt slightly, throwing the aim of its cannons off. Balls meant for our hull had gone harmlessly over our deck, and none had hit anything crucial even there - our mast was intact, our rigging still functional.
The captain was shouting orders again. Men tugged at the lines, and the Jewel's sails began to come unfurled. As each sail dropped into place and was tightened with quick pulls of the ropes, they began to billow in the spellwind. The Jewel was underway, and making more time with every passing second.