* * *
“How do they feel, having us in tow?” Drizzt, standing beside Deudermont on the bridge, asked the captain. While Wulfgar had been building a rapport working beside the crew, Drizzt had struck a solid friendship with the captain. And realizing the value of the elf’s opinions, Deudermont gladly shared his knowledge of his station, and of the sea, with Drizzt. “Do they understand their role as fodder?”
“They know our purpose in shadowing them, and their captain—if he is an experienced sailor—would do the same if our positions were reversed,” Deudermont replied. “Yet we bring them an extra measure of safety as well. Just having a ship from Calimport in sight will deter many of the pirates.”
“And perhaps they feel that we would come to their aid in the face of such an attack?” Drizzt was quick to ask.
Deudermont knew that Drizzt was interested in discovering if the Sea Sprite would indeed go to the other ship’s aid. Drizzt had a strong streak of honor in him, Deudermont understood, and the captain, of similar morals, admired him for it. But Deudermont’s responsibilities as the captain of a vessel were too involved for such a hypothetical situation. “Perhaps,” he replied.
Drizzt let the line of questioning end, satisfied that Deudermont kept the scales of duty and morality in proper balance.
“Sails to the south!” came Wulfgar’s call from above, bringing many of the Sea Sprite’s crew to the forward rail.
Deudermont’s eyes went to the horizon, then to Wulfgar. “How many?”
“Two ships!” Wulfgar called back. “Running north and even, and wide apart!”
“Port and starboard?” Deudermont asked.
Wulfgar took a close measure of the intercepting course then affirmed the captain’s suspicions. “We will pass between them!”
“Pirates?” Drizzt asked, knowing the answer.
“So it would seem,” the captain replied. The distant sails came into view to the men on the deck.
“I see no flag,” one of the sailors near the bridge called to the captain.
Drizzt pointed to the merchant ship ahead. “Are they the target?”
Deudermont nodded grimly. “So it would seem,” he said again.
“Then let us close up with them,” the drow said. “Two against two seems a fairer fight.”
Deudermont stared into Drizzt’s lavender eyes and was almost stunned by their sudden gleam. How could the captain hope to make this honorable warrior understand their place in the scenario? The Sea Sprite flew Calimport’s flag, the other ship, Murann’s. The two were hardly allies.
“The encounter may not come to blows,” he told Drizzt. “The Murann vessel would be wise to surrender peacefully.”
Drizzt began to see the reasoning. “So flying Calimport’s flag holds responsibilities as well as benefits?”
Deudermont shrugged helplessly. “Think of the thieves’ guilds in the cities you have known,” he explained. “Pirates are much the same an unavoidable nuisance. If we sail in to fight, we would dispel any self-restraint the pirates hold upon themselves, most probably bringing more trouble than need be.”
“And we would mark every ship under Calimport’s flag sailing the Channel,” Drizzt added, no longer looking at the captain, but watching the spectacle unfold before him. The light dropped from his eyes.
Deudermont, inspired by Drizzt’s grasp of principles—a grip that would not allow such acceptance of rogues—put a hand on the elf’s shoulder. “If the encounter comes to blows,” the captain said, drawing Drizzt’s gaze back to his own, “the Sea Sprite will join the battle.”
Drizzt turned back to the horizon and clapped Deudermont’s hand with his own. The eager fire returned to his eyes as Deudermont ordered the crew to stand ready.
The captain really didn’t expect a fight. He had seen dozens of engagements such as this, and normally when the pirates outnumbered their intended victim, the looting was accomplished without bloodshed. But Deudermont, with so many years of experience on the sea, soon realized that something was strange this time. The pirate ships kept their course wide, passing too far abreast of the Murann ship to board it. At first, Deudermont thought the pirates meant to launch a distance strike—one of the pirate vessels had a catapult mounted to its afterdeck—to cripple their victim, though the act seemed unnecessary.
Then the captain understood the truth. The pirates had no interest in the Murann ship. The Sea Sprite was their target.
From his high perch, Wulfgar, too, realized that the pirates were sailing right by the lead ship. “Take up arms!” he cried to the crew. “They aim for us!”
“You may indeed get your fight,” Deudermont said to Drizzt. “It seems that Calimport’s flag will not protect us this time.”
To Drizzt’s night-attuned eyes, the distant ships appeared as no more than tiny black dots in the glare of the shining water, but the drow could make out what was happening well enough. He couldn’t understand the logic of the pirates’ choice, though, and he had a strange feeling that he and Wulfgar might be somehow connected to the unfolding events. “Why us?” he asked Deudermont.
The captain shrugged. “Perhaps they have heard a rumor that one of Calimport’s ships will be laden with a valuable cargo.”
The image of the fireballs exploding in the night sky over Baldur’s Gate flashed in Drizzt’s mind. A signal? he wondered again. He couldn’t yet put all of the pieces together, but his suspicions led him invariably to the theory that he and Wulfgar were somehow involved in the pirates’ choice of ships.
“Do we fight?” he started to ask Deudermont, but he saw that the captain was already laying the plans.
“Starboard!” Deudermont told the helmsman. “Put us west to the Pirate Isles. Let us see if these dogs have a belly for the reefs!” He motioned another man to the crow’s nest, wanting Wulfgar’s strength for the more important duties on the deck.
The Sea Sprite bit into the waves and bowed low in a sharp right turn. The pirate vessel on the east, now the farthest away, cut its angle to pursue directly while the other, the bulkier of the two, kept its course straight, each second bringing the Sea Sprite closer for a shot of its catapult.
Deudermont pointed to the largest of the few islands visible in the west. “Skim her close,” he told the helmsman, “but ware the single reef. Tide’s low, and she should be visible.”
Wulfgar dropped to the deck beside the captain.
“On that line,” Deudermont ordered him. “You’ve the mainmast. If I bid you to pull, then heave for all your strength! We shan’t get a second chance.”
Wulfgar took up the heavy rope with a grunt of determination, wrapping it tightly around his wrists and hands.
“Fire in the sky!” one of the crewmen yelled, pointing back to the south, toward the bulky pirate ship. A ball of flaming pitch soared through the air, splashing harmlessly into the ocean with a hiss of protest, many yards short of the Sea Sprite.
“A tracing shot,” Deudermont explained, “to give them our range.”
Deudermont estimated the distance and figured how much closer the pirates would get before the Sea Sprite put the island between them.
“We’ll slip them if we make the channel between the reef and the island,” he told Drizzt, nodding to indicate that he thought the prospects promising.
But even as the drow and the captain began to comfort themselves with thoughts of escape, the masts of a third vessel loomed before them in the west, slipping out of the very channel that Deudermont had hoped to enter. This ship had its sails furled and was prepared for boarding.
Deudermont’s jaw dropped open. “They were lying for us,” he said to Drizzt. He turned to the elf helplessly. “They were lying for us.
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