Juliet McKenna - The Assassin's Edge

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THE UNKNOWN TERROR
After a long winter spent in the Kellarin colony, the crafty and beautiful Livak is anxious to move on. Now an opportunity is on the horizon. The reclamation of a lost southern settlement is in the offing, but those involved, Livak included, must await the spring arrival of the first ship from the mainland — an event that will never take place. Unbeknownst to all, the vital trading route to Tormalin is no longer secure. A dire new threat to the colony's survival has arisen. A final battle of strength, cunning and courage challenges Livak and her devoted swordsman-lover Ryshad, one that will force them to take up arms to confront a merciless, many-faceted evil.

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“No one’s bespoken me.” Naldeth shook his head.

“Nothing from Bremilayne?” Gede peered aft, trying to identify the newcomer. About a quarter as long again as the Tang with the same long lines, it carried a formidable weight of sail rigged for speed and attack. Fore- and aftmasts carried three courses of canvas compared to the Tang ’s two and that wasn’t counting the square-rigged bowsprit and two lateen-rigged mizzens on the aftdeck. Fancy carving adorned rails and the wales and the beakhead at the bow was carved into a threatening shark. As it closed, the boldly painted name below was plain: Spurdog . “Master Parrail?”

“I’ve heard nothing but Artifice isn’t always effective worked over the ocean,” Parrail hastily qualified his reply.

“Ware sail forrard!”

Gede gauged the speed of the rapidly approaching vessel behind before looking to the front where a second ship emerged from concealment behind a curve of the shore. The newcomer could have been built from the same plans as the Spurdog but a sterner shipwright had fashioned the plain rails ringing the crow’s-nests and deck castles. The bow was unadorned but for a brass spike and the name Thornray carved and painted black beneath.

“Dast’s teeth, it’s a god-cursed trap!” spat Gede.

“We’ve barely steerage, this slow,” the helmsman hissed, testing his whipstaff with a leathery hand.

“All sail!” Gede bellowed. “Wizard, raise us a wind!”

“Flag astern!” The lookout clung to the rope stays at a perilous angle.

As the Spurdog ran a vivid scarlet pennant up its mainmast, the Thornray answered with its own.

“That’s no Tormalin insignia,” said Parrail dubiously. “Who raises snake flags?”

“Pirates,” said the captain with loathing. He narrowed his eyes to judge the course of the Thornray now intent on blocking their path. Naldeth didn’t look up from a spark of blue light he was cherishing between his hands. He drew his palms a little wider and the light grew into an iridescent sphere, azure threaded through with brightness painful to the eye.

“Quick as you like, wizard.” The helmsman glanced over his shoulder as the Spurdog ’s sails stole what little breeze the Tang could hope for between the confining islands.

The lookout yelled with fear and fury as a shower of arrows rattled among the Tang ’s sails. Several sailors cried out, arms or legs bloodied. One unfortunate thudded heavily to the deck; screaming and clawing at a vicious shaft piercing his belly.

Parrail knocked Naldeth clean off his feet. The mage’s curse went unspoken as he saw bright arrowheads biting deep into the planking where he’d stood. Master Gede was dragging the helmsman beneath the inadequate shelter of the stern rail, the man choking on his own blood, an arrow deep in his chest. Shocked, Naldeth’s magic scattered in a haphazard flurry of feeble gusts.

Master Gede knelt on one knee by the whipstaff, the other booted foot braced and his hand steady. “We need wind, Master Mage.”

“Can you use the water to slow them?” Parrail’s voice shook.

“It’s too antithetical.” Naldeth fought to steady his hands as a faint sapphire glow suffused the empty air between them. He’d done this before, he reminded himself. If he was ever going to be the equal of Kalion or Otrick, he had to meet challenges like this. If he lived that long.

A second deadly wave of arrows came from the rigging of the pursuing ship. “They’re looking for magelight.” Parrail cowered by the stern rail trying to help the helmsman.

“Curse it!” Raw power burst from Naldeth’s hands. At the last moment, he managed to fling it up at the main mast and the Tang lurched as the sails suddenly filled, dragging the vessel bodily through the water.

“Ware rocks!” A sailor high on the foremast pointed urgently off to one side.

“Ware boats!” The cry came up from the waist of the ship, frantic sailors gesturing ahead and astern. A flotilla of long boats was darting out from the lesser island’s hidden bays where they’d been lurking for the Thornray ’s signal. Parrail risked a glance over the stern rail and saw a second hungry pack come fanning out on either side of the Spurdog . Sweating rowers leaned into their oars, each boat full of raiders, swords in hand. In every prow, a man swung a menacing grappling iron.

Naldeth’s face contorted as he struggled to master the gusting currents of air buffeting him. Livid glints of magic swirled around him but at last a steady wind billowed the Tang ’s sails. The pirates astern hurled abuse as the ship pulled away, the enchanted wind stronger than the toiling men at their oars. Shouts of alarm ahead sounded beneath the questing prow, splintering sounds of wood drowning them an instant later.

Gede shook his head at Naldeth. “Stop or we’ll ram her!”

The Thornray was dead ahead, her rails lined with pirates. Her captain was steering directly into the Tang ’s path, confident his heavier hull would withstand the impact.

“What can I do?” Naldeth stood stricken with indecision.

“Lend a hand to turn her!” Gede was struggling to steer his ship past the predatory pirate’s stern.

Parrail cowered beneath the rail, trying to staunch the helmsman’s wound. “ Zistra feydra en al dret .” His voice cracked as he tried to work the enchantment. The helmsman coughed a gout of scarlet blood and drew a deep shuddering breath before falling limp beneath Parrail’s hands.

Thuds sounded all along the ship’s sides. The long boats had reached the Tang . Pirates flung their grapnels with practised precision and for every rope a desperate sailor cut, two more gripped with irons claws biting deep with the weight of men climbing the lines below. The pirates swarmed over the rail, sailcloth jackets soaked in pitch to foil the few blades that the sailors could muster. Once on the deck, every raider drew short swords or daggers in either hand, hilts wrapping round into brazen knuckles for a brutal punch if close quarters foiled a stroke with a blade.

Zistra feydra en —” Parrail choked on his enchantment as a grappling iron soaring high over the rail hit a sailor at the bottom of the aft castle stair. The man shrieked, razor sharp points ripping open his face and chest.

Instinct brought blazing fire to Naldeth’s outstretched palm. He threw it full in the face of the first pirate to set foot on the deck by the screaming man. Crimson with magic, flames wrapped around the pirate with a furnace roar. Hair blazed in a passing flash then the man’s naked scalp blackened and split, face beneath contorted in tortured shock. Raw flesh oozed for a scant breath before the all-consuming fire scoured the man’s silent scream to the rictus grin of a skull. He fell, head charred and naked bone, arms scorched and blistered, booted legs untouched. Sparks took hold of the pitch in his smouldering jerkin and the magical fire ran greedily across the deck leaving barely a scorch mark. It leapt to the grappling iron, melting it into a shapeless lump before consuming the rope as it went in search of fresh victims in the boat below. Unseen screams lifted above the ear-splitting din of the vicious struggle aboard.

“Wizard, yonder!” Master Gede waved at a new sail. A gaff-rigged ship, deft and manoeuvrable was swooping down the anchorage. Barely two thirds the length of the Tang , the single mast carried triangular headsails rigged to the bowsprit and cut back all the better to spill wind and turn the ship in its own length. The square topsail and fore-and-aft mainsail drove her on and a bold red pennon streamed from the masthead, a black snake writhing down the length of it.

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