Michael Aye - The Reaper

“They’ve taken the brig, sir,” he reported. It was then that Anthony realized Davy was holding his side. A large splinter was protruding where it had embedded along the rib cage. Davy’s hand was soaked from blood. Seeing Anthony’s gaze, Davy said, “It hurts too much to pull out, sir. I tried.”

Anthony turned to Bart. “Get him back to the ship so the surgeon can tend to him.”

“But sir, my place is with you.”

Anthony was moved by Bart’s sincerity, but didn’t have time to debate. “Bart!”

“I understands sir. Come along young sir. Let’s get you back to ole Drakky and see if the surgeon might find a wee potion for yer pain.”

Anthony turned his attention back to the fight. The pirates were being beaten. Slowly and at a great price-but they were being beaten. The ship was a crazed den of slaughter. A petty officer that was firing a swivel gun suddenly grasped his face and fell head long between the two ships. A huge pirate swung a blade as big as a claymore and beheaded a seaman only to have the man’s mate skewer him through the neck, creating a fountain of blood from a severed artery. Men were hacking, stabbing, and slashing at each other.

Anthony thrust his sword into a pirate who was aiming his pistol at a marine. Out of the corner of his eye, Anthony could see Buck, Gabe, and a number of men making their way through the remaining pirates by Reaper’s stern. Another pirate lunged at Anthony, his eyes glazed, oblivious to his many wounds, but now weakened. Anthony struck him down after a brief parry.

“Damme,” he thought. “It is still a wee bit hot for my taste.” He was tiring fast, the adrenaline rush was gone. A seaman fell beside him. His eyes were suddenly lifeless and staring into space, a large cutlass embedded in his chest. Without thinking, Anthony quickly dispatched the rogue who had just slain the seaman. Then another blade slashed at him, which he quickly fended off. There face to face and blade to blade, Anthony faced the pirate captain.

Their blades clashed and parted. A feint. A parry. The foes circled, each exploring for the other’s weakness warily.

Both men were fatigued and were gasping for breath. Their strength was ebbing, but neither was willing to surrender.

Most of the other fighting had now subsided. Buck and Gabe had both reached the outer part of a circle where Anthony and the pirate were dueling. Bart was almost to the inside of the circle. Sensing a distraction, the pirate lunged, the tip of his sword nicking Anthony’s side. Anthony parried the lunge and opened up the pirate’s arm from the elbow to the armpit. The arm was all but useless, and blood dripped down the man’s sleeve and off the hilt of his sword. Again the pirate lunged. This time Anthony side-stepped and brought his blade down across his opponent’s shoulder and collarbone. However, Anthony’s arm had grown tired, weak from the prolonged battle. The blade did not strike true. The pirate caught more of the flat side of the blade than the edge. Even with the glancing blow, a large gash was made and more blood began to flow.

“Give!” Anthony cried.“Give!” Then something struck Anthony in the head from behind. He felt himself beginning to fall. His eyes wouldn’t focus, and he could feel warm blood running down his neck. He seemed to take forever to fall. Then he felt pain as he hit the deck. He tried to rise but he had fallen in a bloody pool. As he tried pushing himself up, his hands slipped from under him. Then Anthony felt pain again as someone stood over him and viciously grabbed him by his hair, jerked back his head, and placed a sharp menacing blade at his exposed throat. The pain in his head was terrible, but helped Anthony to refocus. A dead pirate lay next to where Anthony had just risen. Bart’s knife was stuck in the fellow’s neck. The rogue had apparently struck Anthony from behind and Bart had quickly dispatched him for his troubles. However, the pirate captain was now holding a blade beneath Anthony’s chin. He was threatening to sever Anthony’s windpipe if he was not given clear passage along with his surviving cohorts.

“No!” Anthony tried to speak out, only to feel a slight burning sensation, then warm blood trickle down on to his chest. The pirate captain meant business.

“Rapidement,” he threatened, “Or monsieur will die.” The silence was eerie as everyone lowered their weapons and absorbed what was happening. A heavy groan emerged as another swell caused the hulls of the wounded ships to rub together. The groan was haunting. A cloud suddenly darkened the ship, creating shadows.

“Tu comprends? You have but a moment, then he dies,” the pirate threatened. Buck cleared his throat and started toward the pirate, but Dagan reached out to still him.

“Diable!” Dagan shouted to get the pirate’s attention. “I am Dagan, the revenger, corbeau .” Now Dagan’s voice was barely audible, not much more than a whisper. However, his words seemed to hypnotize the pirate leader. “Give me the knife. You have no need of such a heavy blade. Enough blood has been spilled today Surely you’ve grown tired. It’s time to cool your blood and cleanse your tormented soul.”

As if in a trance, the pirate captain started to rise, loosening his grip on Anthony as he did so. He appeared to relax as he focused on Dagan. Suddenly the silence was broken as one of the blackguards screamed, “Cut ‘is throat. Kill ‘em, capitaine. Kill ‘em.” The French captain shook his head as if clearing himself from a daze. The spell had been broken. He jerked Anthony’s head back, once again raising his hand with the knife.

“Au revoir,” he said.

It was then that Dagan raised his head toward the sky and cried out, “Corbeau attaque Le Diable!” No sooner had Dagan given his command than a blur of black wings flew down from above, screeching as it did so. The screeching caused the pirate to look up. His doing so provided the attacking bird with a perfect target. The pirate’s screams were intermingled with the great bird’s flapping wings and screeching. The bird’s claws and beak tore chunks of flesh from the pirate’s face. The pirate tried to protect his face and eyes with one hand, and fend off the demon bird with the other. But it was no use. The fierce attack had already reduced the pirate’s face to a mass of gore, making it hard to recognize as being human.

Anthony was forgotten as the knife was dropped to the deck. The pirate had one eye torn from its socket and was screaming in pain. His arms were thrashing as he tried to combat his tormentor. Back he went. Back as the men moved out of his way, watching in awe at the spectacle that was taking place before them. The bird momentarily ceased his attack as the now blinded Frenchman had backed all the way to the aft rail. The raven’s beak and claws had turned red with dripping blood. The bird appeared to hover in the air above the pirate, flapping its wings in an accelerating fashion. Then the bird dove at the man’s face with such force he toppled over the rail. The pirate had at last grabbed hold of his tormentor, and together they hit the water. The warm Caribbean choked off the anguished screams and screeching. Once again everything was silent. Slowly the clouds moved, and the sun again shone bright.

Anthony rose from where he’d been kneeling on the deck. Touching his neck, he found the bleeding had stopped and the blood had dried. Then everyone surrounded him: Gabe, Bart, Buck, Pope and Dagan. They were all there. Dagan looked ashen and clammy. His breathing seemed labored. Anthony took his hand and the two looked directly at each other, but no words were spoken. None were needed. When Anthony released his hand, Dagan said, “I think I’ll go have a wet.” Gabe watched as Dagan made his way toward the Shark. He couldn’t understand fully what had just transpired, but its effect on Dagan was obvious. He looked drained and weak. Gabe had never seen him like this before. However, but for Dagan’s actions, Gabe was sure his brother would be dead now.