Juliet McKenna - The Assassin's Edge

“I’m playing no games with you.” Temar turned from the rail to see the horrified faces of Usara and Allin. Guinalle stood between them, face pale as bone and her eyes like hollows in a skull.

A despairing cry and a splash forced Temar back to the sea. Greik had thrown Naldeth overboard and the wizard was struggling to tread water, looking in all directions, hands searching for any hold on the harsh planks of the boat, new scrapes only adding to the blood in the water. Predatory fins swept towards him in long inquisitive arcs.

Greik laughed as Muredarch jerked the rope tied beneath Naldeth’s arms and then took hold himself. “Steady,” warned Muredarch. The rest of the pirates balanced the trim of the sloop, every face showing they’d seen this game played out before.

A notched fin flew straight as an arrow at the struggling mage. It disappeared beneath the water and Naldeth’s scream was a rising note of pure agony cut short with a gasping gurgle as something wrenched him beneath the roiling water. More fins jostled in an ever-decreasing circle.

“Pull!” Muredarch was intent as any fisherman casting a lazy line over a peaceful pond. He jerked the rope and the two of them hauled Naldeth bodily from the sea. The mage hung limp, white body dripping with seawater, scarlet blood gushing from the ragged stump where one leg had been bitten clean off just below the knee.

A questing snout broached the surface, black eyes like jet in the blunt grey head, gaping mouth lined with teeth more terrible than the most murderous mantrap. The shark dropped back into the water, pale belly uppermost for a moment before it disappeared into the perilous depths. An arrow, shot without sanction from the Dulse , struck the water and floated away, useless.

Naldeth began coughing and retching up salt water. Greik reached down to haul him up and the mage clung on the stern rail, remaining foot flailing in midair. To Temar’s astonishment, Muredarch briskly tied a tourniquet around Naldeth’s bleeding thigh.

“We can keep this up for some while, boy,” the pirate said confidently. “Well, depending on how lively Greik manages that rope. We’ve had a man live through the loss of both arms and legs, haven’t we, lads?” He patted the wizard’s sodden and matted head as the sloop’s crew dutifully chuckled.

Halice gripped Temar’s forearm. “Give the word and I’ll fill that bastard so full of arrows, they won’t need wood to build a pyre under him!”

“Can we kill them all?” Temar set his jaw. “And who takes that privy rat’s place? Most likely one of Ilkehan’s enchanters. Do we raise the stakes that high?”

“We want him looking this way, don’t we?” Halice was not deterred.

Temar could hear Usara and Allin whispering urgently to Guinalle. Were they as appalled at what he was doing as he was himself?

“Nothing to offer?” Muredarch sighed with false regret. “Time for another dipping.”

Greik pushed the hapless mage off the rail, heedless of his cries of anguish.

“Then do it as fast as you can!” Guinalle hung back, face twisted with concentration as Allin and Usara stepped forward to the Dulse ’s rail.

A crack of thunder from the clear blue sky silenced Muredarch even as a shaft of lightning hissed into the sea by Naldeth’s head. Another and another split the water with blinding light and scattered the sharks. Muredarch raised his bloodied dagger at Temar but his words went unheard among shouts of alarm as the seas beneath the pirates’ hull bucked and heaved. Muredarch clung to the stern rail, face ugly, only to recoil a moment later as a golden shaft of lightning split the wood, cutting the rope holding Naldeth. The polished lamps exploded, shards of glass cutting Muredarch’s hands and face. A pirate tumbled screaming into the water but even with the sharks fled, no one threw him a rope.

“Allin, quick!” gasped Guinalle as Naldeth’s unconscious body was lifted on a swathe of dusky light. Usara was still intent on the pirates, a blazing thunderbolt shattering the sloop’s single mast and exploding into knives of light to shred the tumbling sails.

“Sink the bastards!” Halice raised one hand as archers on the Dulse ’s ratlines waited for her signal.

Usara’s face twisted with concentration. Magic-tainted mist like bloodstained gossamer rose from the hostile sea to thicken around the pirates who slapped with rising panic at coils tightening around their arms and heads. The magic dissolved at their touch but the threatening tendrils reappeared a moment later. The pirates’ shouts cracked with fear.

“Stop, all of you!” screamed Guinalle. The noblewoman pressed her hands to her temples, eyes closed and face white. Naldeth thudded senseless on to the Dulse ’s deck.

“Help me, somebody.” Allin was on her knees beside him, breaking her nails on the viciously tight tourniquet. His swollen thigh was dark with blood, cruel contrast to his pale, wasted body.

“One shot! Make ’em pay!” Halice swept her hand down. Shafts hissed through the air and pirates cursed and yelled as the arrowheads bit home.

“If we’ve no sails then we cursed well row! Get the sweeps out!” Muredarch was down among his men, tossing a corpse overboard before dragging at a long oar himself. “So, Tormalin Sieur, this is how you dishonour truce.” Muredarch stood up, unafraid. “You’ve a lot to learn, boy, if you’re ever to have men keep faith with you!”

With the long sweeps now deployed, the pirates strained to pull themselves out of bowshot.

“You broke faith first!” Temar’s rage got the better of him before he realised he sounded like a petulant child.

Muredarch laughed scornfully. “I’ve a whole stockade full of slaves and the ocean’s full of sharks. Let’s see who sickens of this game first!” He turned his back on Temar to lend a hand and encouragement as his sweating men fled for the sound between the islands.

“Can’t you sink it?” Halice demanded of Usara.

“Not with Muredarch’s enchanters ready to pounce.” Usara looked to Guinalle who nodded tight-lipped confirmation.

“We have to get him ashore.” Allin looked up at Temar. She had the stump of Naldeth’s leg raised across her lap, swathing the torn and ragged flesh in linen torn from someone’s shirt. Crushed splinters of bone were impeding her, blood running between her fingers and staining her cuffs. Guinalle dropped to her knees to cradle Naldeth’s head.

“I can raise us a wind,” Usara offered.

Guinalle opened her eyes for a moment. “No. They’re seeking us with every art they can summon.”

“Back,” Temar waved to the Dulse ’s captain. “Fast as you can.”

Usara glared after the vanished pirates. “I could slaughter that whole nest of vermin with every torment of magic I could think of.”

“Help us lift him,” Allin demanded. “Careful. Keep that leg raised.”

With Guinalle steadying his head, Temar and Usara carried Naldeth into the stern cabin, Allin looking to his wounded leg and remaining foot. For all their care, a lurch of the ship caught them unawares, jolting Naldeth and forcing a moan from beneath his gritted teeth.

“On the bunk.” Usara and Temar laid Naldeth down and Allin began stripping away linen already soaked with blood to study the open wound. She covered it again with a light layer of clean cloth. “We have to stop this bleeding and that means cautery,” she said bluntly. “I daren’t use magic, not with him being mageborn and in such pain. It’ll have to be hot irons.”

The cloying scent of blood was rapidly filling the cramped cabin. Temar realised he was feeling sick and swallowed hard. That left him feeling both empty and nauseous, his mouth dry. The cabin darkened and Halice filled the doorway. “I’ll see to that,” she said grimly.