The Complete Liveship Traders Trilogy: Ship of Magic, The Mad Ship, Ship of Destiny. Robin Hobb
on deck!’ Sorcor bellowed cheerfully. ‘And heave the ropes up.’
The decks of the Marietta resounded to the pounding of eager feet. Pirates crowded the railing, grappling-lines and bows at the ready. Kennit cupped his hands to his mouth. ‘You may surrender,’ he offered the man as the lightened Marietta closed with her prey.
For an answer, the man barked some command of his own. Six stalwart sailors abruptly seized up an anchor lying on the deck. Screams sounded as they hove it over the side. And in its wake, as swiftly as if they had eagerly leaped, went a handful of men who had been manacled to it. They vanished instantly, their screams bubbled into silence. Sorcor stared in shock. Even Kennit had to admit a sort of awe at the other captain’s ruthlessness.
‘That was five slaves!’ bellowed the captain of the Sicerna. ‘Stand off! The next measure of chain has twenty fastened to it.’
‘Probably the sickly ones he didn’t expect to last the journey anyway,’ Kennit opined. From the deck of the other vessel, he could hear voices, some raised in pleas, others in terror or anger.
‘In Sa’s name, what do we do?’ Sorcor breathed. ‘Those poor devils!’
‘We do not stand off,’ Kennit said quietly. Loudly, he called back, ‘Sicerna? If those slaves go over the side, you pay with your own lives.’
The other captain threw back his head and laughed so ringingly that the sound came clear across the water to them. ‘As if you would let any of us live! Stand off, pirate, or these twenty die.’
Kennit looked at the agony in Sorcor’s face. He shrugged. ‘Close the distance! Grapples away!’ he shouted. His men obeyed. They could not see the indecision in the mate’s eyes, but all heard the screams of twenty men as a second anchor dragged them down. They took part of the ship’s railing with them.
‘Kennit,’ Sorcor groaned in disbelief. His face paled with horror and shock.
‘How many spare anchors can he have?’ Kennit asked as he sprang to lead the boarding party. Over his shoulder he flung back, ‘You were the one who told me you would have preferred death to slavery. Let us hope it was their preference as well!’
His men were already hauling on the grappling-lines, drawing the two ships closer, while his archers kept up a steady rain of arrows against the defenders who sought to pluck the grapples out and throw them overboard. The crew of the Marietta outnumbered that of the Sicerna at least three times over. The embattled defenders were well-armed, but obviously unfamiliar with their weapons. Kennit drew his blade and jumped the small gap between the boats. He landed, then gut-kicked a sailor with one arrow standing out of his shoulder as he wrestled with his own bow. The man went down and one of Kennit’s men knifed him in passing. Kennit spun on him. ‘Leave three alive!’ he spat angrily. No one else challenged his boarding, and with drawn sword he went seeking the vessel’s captain.
He found him on the opposite side of the vessel. He, the mate, and two sailors were hastily trying to launch the ship’s boat. It hung swinging over the water from its davits, but one of the release-lines was jammed. Kennit shook his head to himself. The entire ship was filthy; they should not be surprised at a seized-up block if they could not even keep the deck clear.
‘Avast!’ he shouted with a grin.
‘Stand clear,’ the Sicerna’s captain warned him, levelling a hand-held crossbow at his chest.
Kennit lost respect for him. He had been far more impressive when he acted instead of threatening first. And then, arcing up from the water came the sinuous neck of the serpent. Perhaps the man did not wish to expend his bolt until he knew which target was more threatening. As the serpent’s head lifted from the water, Kennit saw the body of a slave gripped in the serpent’s jaws. Twin chains hung from the man’s body. To one side, a manacle still gripped a hand and arm. The other chain dangled slack and empty. The serpent gave a sudden worrying shake to the body, then a slight toss. The great jaws closed more firmly on its catch, shearing away the still-manacled hands at the elbows. The chain splashed back into the water. The serpent threw back its head and gulped the rest of the man down. As the bare feet vanished down its throat, it gave its head another shake. Then it eyed the men in the boat with interest. One of the sailors cried out in horror. The captain aimed his weapon at the monster’s wide eyes.
The moment it was not pointed at his chest, Kennit sprang forwards. He poised his blade to chop one of the davit-lines that supported the boat. ‘Throw down the weapon and come back on board,’ Kennit ordered him. ‘Or I’ll feed you to the serpent now!’
The man spat at Kennit, then fired the bolt unerringly into the serpent’s swirling green eye. The bolt vanished from sight into the creature’s brain. Kennit guessed it was not the first serpent the man had shot. As the creature went into a frenzy of lashing and screaming, the man drew his own knife and began sawing at the line just above the hook that secured it to the boat. ‘We’ll take our chances with the serpents, you bastard!’ he screamed at Kennit as the undulating serpent sank beneath the waves. ‘Rodel, cut your line loose!’
Rodel, however, did not share his skipper’s optimism regarding the serpent. The terrified sailor gave a cry of despair and flung himself from the dangling boat back to the ship’s deck. Kennit disabled him with a cut to his leg and then put his attention back on the boat. He ignored the cries of the squirming sailor who tried vainly to stem the flow of his blood.
With a single stride Kennit sprang into the swinging boat. He set the tip of his blade to the captain’s throat. ‘Back,’ he suggested with a smile. ‘Or die here.’
The seized-up block-and-tackle suddenly broke free. One end of the suspended boat dropped abruptly, spilling men into the sea even as the serpent once more erupted to the surface. Kennit, lithe and lucky as a cat, sprang clear of the falling boat. One hand caught the railing of the Sicerna, and then the other. He was hauling up his dangling legs when the serpent lifted its head from the water to regard him. Its ruined eye ran ichor and blood. It opened its maw wide and screamed, a sound of fury and despair. Its blinded eye faced towards the men who struggled in the water, while Kennit dangled before the good eye like a fishing lure. Frantically he swung one leg up over the railing and hooked it there. As softly as a well-trained pet takes a titbit from its master’s fingers, the serpent closed its jaws on his other leg.
It hurt, it burned like a red-hot leg-iron, and he screamed. Then the pain suddenly flowed away from him. A chill, delightfully numbing, chased the pain away as hot water purges cold from the skin. He felt it flowing up his body. Relief, such relief from the pain. He felt his leg relax with it, and then the numbness was flowing higher. His scream died away to a groan.
‘NO!’ The whore shrieked the word as she flew across the deck. Etta must have been watching from the deck of the Marietta. No one blocked her way. The deck was mainly cleared of live men; they had probably fallen back at sight of the serpent rising again. Some impromptu weapon, a boarding-axe or a kitchen cleaver, flashed in the sunlight as Etta brandished it. She was screaming, a stream of gutter invective and threats directed towards the serpent that even now was lifting him up. Some reflex made him cling to the ship’s railing with all his might. That was not much any more. Strength had fled him. Whatever venom the serpent had put into his wound was already rendering him helpless. When Etta seized him in a wild embrace that also included the ship’s railing, he scarcely felt her grip. ‘Let him go!’ she commanded the serpent. ‘Let him go, you bitch-thing, you slimy sea-worm, you whore’s arse! Let him go!’
The enfeebled serpent tugged on his booted leg, stretching him out over the water. Etta hauled determinedly back. The woman was stronger than he had thought. He saw more than felt the serpent set its teeth more firmly. Like a hot knife through butter, those teeth sheared through flesh and muscle. He had a glimpse of exposed bone, looking oddly honeycombed where the serpent’s saliva ate into it. The creature turned its great head like a hooked fish, preparing to give a shake that would either tear him loose from the railing or snatch his leg from his body. Sobbing, Etta raised her weapon. ‘Damn you!’ she screamed, ‘Damn you, damn you, damn