Mel Odom - Rising Tide

"Jherek?" she gasped, looking up at him.

"Hang on," he told her.

She spat water and snuffled as she cried, "There are fish men attacking the ship."

He felt sorry for her then, in spite of everything else she'd done to him that day. For all her posing and wealth, she remained yet a child. "They haven't taken her," he replied, "and they won't."

"Jherek!" a voice called from above as Butterfly bore down on them. She was coming fast enough that white caps rolled along her bow.

"Here!" he shouted back, blinking his eyes to clear them of the saltwater.

"Valkur's brass buttons, boy," the sailor yelled down. "Jumping in shark-infested waters like that, you must figure you got some kind of charmed life. I tell anybody that back home, they're going to chase me out of the tavern for telling tall tales. I hadn't seen it myself, I'd have called the man who told me about it a liar."

Jherek kept swimming. He'd never fully understood the things that moved him, but he knew what he couldn't do, and he couldn't have left the woman to die.

"Skiff's coming down, but we're keeping it tied up. Watch 'er as she comes down."

"Come ahead," Jherek said, treading water and watching Butterfly's approach, knowing it was going to be a near thing.

The skiff dropped down the side of the cog, the lines whirring through the pulleys. The little boat landed on the water with a flat smack that threw a wave of cold water over Jherek. Thinking she was going under again triggered another panic attack on Yeill's part. Jherek held her, speaking calmly to her as soon as their heads were above water again.

He reached out and grabbed the skiffs edge, feeling his bruised shoulder muscles writhe in agony as they took the sudden drag.

"I've got her, lad." Old Cowey, the sailor with the most seniority on Butterfly, took Yeill's wrist in his gnarled, scarred hand. He pulled her aboard the leaping skiff, dragged along through the cog's wake.

Jherek let the woman go, then caught the skiff's edge with his other hand and pulled himself aboard. He stepped over Yeill, who lay scared and shivering in the bottom of the skiff.

"Haul away," Jherek yelled up to the men manning the skiff's lines.

They started pulling at once, bringing the small craft up. They alternately railed against him and congratulated him on his success in saving the girl. The general consensus seemed to be that he'd gone insane, and everyone knew the gods favored those too stupid to save themselves.

Jherek didn't wait for them to tie the skiff off, knowing Cowey would take care of his charge. The young sailor leaped up and caught the hauling ropes and climbed. Level with the cog's railing, he swung his body out and landed lithely on the deck.

He scanned the opposite railing, seeing Finaren and the ship's crew hard pressed to defend against boarders. Despite the difference in height between the cog and the manta, the sahuagin attacked viciously.

"C'mon, you sea dogs!" Finaren bellowed at the rigging crew. "Butterfly's no pig to be wallowing in the trough! Make her fly or I'll have the hide off your backs when we get to Velen!"

The ship's crew reacted to their master's voice. Wind cracked in Butterfly's sails, creating distance from the sahuagin manta. The Amnian passengers stood balled up in the ship's prow, protective of their own circle.

Jherek raced across the pitching deck, pausing only long enough to take the cutlass and hook Hagagne "offered. He had no special weapons, comfortable with any that found their way into his hands. Malorrie had seen to it that he was trained in a cross section of them.

"Glad to see you made it, lad," Hagagne stated with relief as he fell in behind. "Thought I'd never see you again after you diving into them sharks like that. You do it again, though, you better hope them sharks have at you. I'll chomp on you myself if they don't."

Jherek ran the cutlass and hook through his work apron strap, then took the short bow and quiver of arrows Hagagne offered. He was one of the better archers among the crew.

"Hawlyng!" Finaren yelled.

"Aye, Cap'n," Hawlyng responded.

"I'll want to be using that fire projector today, Hawlyng!"

"Aye, sir. I've got 'er up and ready. Just you say when."

"Now!" Finaren howled. "I'm up to my arse in these damned deep devils!"

Jherek stepped to the railing as the crew made room for him. He notched an arrow to the string as he surveyed the manta coming around. The sahuagin clung to the sides as well as manning the oars. Their scaled bodies writhed in the effort of propelling their craft along with the oars. With the darkening sky full of storm clouds, they were crouched in shadow, but Jherek could easily spot the silvery eyes that haunted many sailors' dreams.

A sahuagin drummer stood in the prow, croaking out a rhythm. Jherek recognized it as serving the same purpose as a drum beater on a trireme. Flaming arrows from Butterfly's crew fell into the water and occasionally sunk home in the manta, creating bright spots of yellow flame against the darkness as they flew. When they hit the sahuagin craft, the oarsmen pulled back from the fires, but one of them would always fin a wave of water over it and put it out.

"You get that girl back?" Finaren asked.

“Aye." Jherek smoothed his wet hair back from his face, getting the measure of Butterfly's lunges across the uneven ocean. They were rising and falling little over fifty paces opposite each other, but at the distance, that fifty paces stretched out even further, making shots difficult.

"Good," the captain growled, "but that was a damn fool thing you did."

"I couldn't let her drown or get eaten by a shark."

"You ever stop and think you ain't got much choice in some of those matters, lad?" Finaren sounded angry, hotter than Jherek had ever heard him.

Irritation and insecurity stung the young sailor at the same time. "You mean you think it's possible the sahuagin out there are going to take Butterfly this evening?" He meant it to come out harder, but he really wasn't sure. There were a lot of sahuagin out there.

"Not my ship," Finaren answered. "Leastways, not while I'm able to draw a breath. Now be a good lad and put a shaft through that croaking monstrosity in the prow. They have us on speed, but they're a brute while Butterfly's a lady who knows how to dance. Still, they're going to run us down if we let them. Even this puny wind won't always be in our favor as we move around."

Jherek concentrated on his shot and loosed the fletchings. The arrow caught the sahuagin in the thigh, causing it to bark in pain. Still, it snapped the arrow off and went back to croaking cadence. The young sailor drew another shaft, watching the manta draw nearer. When the craft was less than thirty paces away, he released the second arrow.

The fletching suddenly appeared in the sahuagin's thickly muscled neck and the croaking halted immediately. It toppled over the side, clawing at its neck as it tried to dislodge the arrow.

"Hard to starboard!" Finaren shouted.

The boatswain yelled the order back and the ship's crew and helmsman made the adjustment. Butterfly came about regretfully, losing the wind and slowing immediately.

Jherek fired four more arrows, hitting targets scattered across the manta. The thick sahuagin hide turned two of his arrows as surely as chain mail when they didn't hit flush. At the distance, it was almost impossible to avoid hitting something.

Finaren held onto the railing as the ship crested a wave that slammed into her side. Quarrels from the sahuagin crossbows stuttered into Butterfly's side and ripped through her sails. A man screamed only a few feet from Jherek, clutching the quarrel that suddenly appeared in his chest.

"It burns!" he screamed, falling to his knees. "Selune watch over me." He lasted only a moment, praying fervently to his goddess before he passed out.