Dennis McKiernan - Once upon a Spring morn

“Ah, I see,” said Chevell. “You had business there?”

“Oui,” said Celeste. “We wanted to look at the map that purports to show the way to the Changeling realm.”

“ Sacre Mithras!” blurted Chevell. “It is that very map we pursue.”

“What? The map is on the corsairs’ ship?”

“Perhaps; perhaps not. In the mid of night, the crews of three corsairs raided Port Mizon. Of the things they took, the chart was among them. We have already captured one of the ships, and our sister craft, the Swift Mallard, now bears the treasure from that vessel and escorts it and the raiders back to port to face the king’s justice. Me, I would just have soon hanged them all and been done with it. Regardless, we did not find the map on that craft; if it is there, it is well hidden. There are yet two of the raiders’ ships to overtake, one of which we believe has the chart.”

“Oh, no,” groaned Celeste. “We need that map to get to the Changeling realm.”

“My lady, you cannot be seriously thinking of going to-”

Beyond the shadow and directly starboard, someone shouted another command.

“Lieutenant Armond,” said Chevell, “ready the men.

As before, you will lead the boarding party.”

“Aye, my lord,” replied the lieutenant, and he moved toward the bow.

“Cherie,” said Roel, “I will go with them. As for you, ply your bow well, and stay safe aboard the Eagle. ” Celeste’s own heart was racing in fear for Roel, but she said nought as she fiercely embraced him and kissed him deeply.

They stepped apart, and Roel followed Armond.

Chevell said, “Bosun, ’tis into battle we go; pipe the sails two points to the starboard. Helmsman, follow suit.” Aye, aye, they both said, and as the bosun blew the command, the helmsman turned the wheel, and the ship began swinging rightward even as the crew haled the halyards about, yardarms swinging, sails turning to catch the best of the wind.

And out from the shadowlight came the Sea Eagle running in full, and less than a furlong to the starboard sailed a three-masted dhow, shock and alarm on the faces of the corsair crew.

“Ready grapnels,” cried Lieutenant Armond, a tall, black-haired man.

The corsairs scrambled: some to take up weapons, others to swing booms and tiller to head their ship away, and still others to jitter about to no purpose whatsoever in spite of their captain’s shouts.

Yet the Sea Eagle swooped down upon its prey, for it had the advantage of speed and surprise, as well as a ready crew.

Arrows flew from corsair to king’s ship, and arrows flew in return. But Celeste waited, for she would be certain of her casts. She glanced at Roel; he stood at the starboard wale, now and again catching an arrow upon his shield.

Even as shafts flew back and forth, “Ship ahoy,” came a cry from the crow’s nest.

Celeste frowned. Of course there’s a ship. But then the lookout cried, “A point to the port, Captain,” and Celeste looked where Captain Chevell gazed. On the horizon the lateen sails of another vessel were just then passing out of sight o’er the rim of the world.

“ ’Tis the other corsair,” said Chevell, a stocky redheaded man, some five foot nine or so. “Let us hope the map is aboard this one and not the other.”

“I pray to Mithras you are right,” said Celeste.

Now the Sea Eagle drew nigh, and at last Celeste began loosing shafts, each one aimed at a corsair archer; and one by one she took them out of the fight, her own aim deadly. Soon the pirates, especially the bowmen, were crouching down below the rails, for someone aboard the king’s ship was lethal.

“My lady,” said Chevell, “try not to slay the captain of the corsair, for I would have him lead us to the map, should he have it.”

“Aye, aye,” said Celeste, grinning, even as she loosed another arrow. “By the bye, Captain Chevell, which is the pirate captain?”

“I believe that’s him cowering by the tiller,” said Chevell.

“Ah, him,” said Celeste, drawing another arrow from the quiver and nocking it. “Well, I wouldn’t have shot him anyway, unless, that is, he threatens Roel, in which case I’ll stick him like the cowardly pig he is.” Chevell barked a laugh and said, “Agreed. But the helmsman, now, he is fair game.”

Celeste’s next shaft slew that man, and the pirate craft fell off the wind and slowed.

Now the Sea Eagle began to overlap the corsair, and moments later they were beam to beam, starboard to larboard. Grapnels flew and bit into the boards, and pirates hacked at the lines, but more grapnels bit into wood, and the men of the Eagle haled ropes and drew the ships hull to hull.

Shouting, “King Avelar!” Lieutenant Armond led his men over the wales and onto the other ship, Roel among them, Coeur d’Acier slaying left and right, the blade cleaving straight through the corsairs’ weapons of bronze to strike deadly blows. Some of the pirates leapt aboard the Sea Eagle, desperate to escape this purveyor of death, and there they fought gamely, for bronze met bronze and not steel.

One of the corsairs rushed at Celeste, but Chevell stepped in front of her and skewered the man. As Chevell jerked his sword free, Celeste said, “Merci, Captain, but I would have felled him myself.” Chevell turned to Celeste to see that she had an arrow nocked, and he grinned and said, “Oui, but sometimes a woman must let a man perform a chivalrous act.” Celeste whipped up her bow and aimed at Chevell’s throat and then shifted a bit to the right and let fly.

Thock! The shaft took an onrushing corsair in the eye, and he fell dead, his cutlass clanging to the deck at Chevell’s feet.

“Tit for tat,” said Celeste, grinning at the captain’s surprised gape even as she nocked another arrow.

The battle raged but moments longer; then aboard both ships, corsairs threw down their weapons and surrendered.

As the prisoners were rounded up, Armond dragged the corsair captain out from a hold, and marched him before Vicomte Chevell.

Celeste, an arrow yet nocked in her bow, stood at hand.

Chevell ignored the pirate for a moment and called out to the corsair vessel, “Ensign Laval, see that our wounded and dead are removed from that ship. And have some of the rovers come over and take their own wounded and dead back.”

“Aye, aye, My Lord Captain,” replied the young man.

“Lieutenant Florien,” called Chevell. “Organize a search for that which was taken from the king.”

“Aye, aye, my lord,” replied the second officer.

Then Chevell canted his head toward the pirate and said, “Your name, Captain.”

The small, swarthy man drew himself up to his full height and said, “I am Captain Zdnek, and just who are you to attack an innocent-”

“I would have the map you stole,” said Chevell, his words harsh, his gaze icy.

“Map, map? What map? I have no-”

“From Port Mizon, pirate!”

“I have not in my life been to Port Mizon, and-”

“My Lord Captain Chevell,” called Florien from the raiders’ dhow.

Chevell turned toward the man.

“In the captain’s cabin, we found the King’s Bell and many of the other treasures taken, but the map was not among them.”

“Keep searching, Florien.”

“Aye, aye, my lord.”

Grim-eyed, Chevell turned toward the pirate captain and said, “Hang him.”

Even as Lieutenant Armond reached for the corsair, Zdnek fell to his knees. “No, no, My Lord Captain,” he wailed. “Barlou has it! Barlou!” Zdnek pointed in the direction along the horizon where the other ship had disappeared.

“I think you’re lying,” snapped Chevell.