Krondor: Tear of the Gods. Raymond E. Feist
shook their heads and set to, working in pairs to move the larger chests and sacks into the nets, although Knute could see the doubt on their faces. But they hurried and got most of the booty in the net and tied it off.
‘Haul away!’ Knute shouted to the men above.
Pirates grabbed small chests and sacks and attempted to get back to the forward ladder. The ship was now heading down by the bow, picking up speed and rocking slightly from side to side. ‘Tell them to back water!’ shouted Knute, as he negotiated the ladder to the upper deck, clutching the small wooden chest as a mother would a baby. He saw a brilliant light coming through the captain’s cabin door and his eyes widened. Bear stood outlined against the glare, obviously struggling through the water as if engaged with a foe of some kind. ‘Get out!’ shouted Knute. ‘You’re going to drown!’ Not that Knute would shed a tear if that happened, but if Bear somehow came to his senses and made good his escape, Knute wanted to appear convincing in his role as loyal and concerned pilot.
Knute hurried to the gunwale and nimbly leaped atop it. Glancing at those behind him who were sliding across the deck, trying for the boat below, he called, ‘Hurry!’ The galley was backing away, and water rushed quickly into the hull of the Ishapian ship. Knute knew that, had he not given the order to back the galley, the weight of the dying ship might have pulled its bow under the waves.
A longboat bobbed on the water a few yards below and he muttered, ‘By the gods, I’ve gotta get out of this business.’
He glanced upward and saw the cargo boom with the net loaded with treasure being lowered to the deck of the galley. With a quick prayer to every god he could remember, Knute leaped from the sinking ship, hitting the water while he clutched the small chest with all his might. Weight pulled him downward and he struggled, and finally his head broke the surface as voices echoed across the water. With his free arm he struck out for the longboat, reaching it quickly. Strong hands reached over the side and pulled him aboard.
‘The ship sinks!’ men yelled as they leaped from the deck into the foam.
‘Leave the rest!’ shouted a man holding what appeared to be a large sack of gold coins. He hit the water, and after a minute his head broke the surface. He struggled mightily to get the sack aboard Knute’s boat.
‘No! Noooo!’ came Bear’s anguished cry from the bowels of the sinking ship as Knute helped the pirate aboard the boat.
‘Sounds like the boss is having a problem,’ said the drenched pirate.
‘Row,’ instructed Knute. The sailor complied and Knute looked over his shoulder. ‘Whatever the boss’s problems, they’re no longer ours.’
‘You going to leave him?’ said one of Knute’s men.
‘Let’s see if that cursed amulet keeps him alive on the bottom of the sea.’
One of the pirates grinned. Like the rest of his brethren he had been obedient out of fear as much as any loyalty to Bear. ‘If it does, he’s going to kill you, Knute.’
‘He’s got to find me first,’ said the wily pilot. ‘I’ve sailed with that murdering lunatic three times, which is two too many. You’ve been his slaves long enough. Now it’s our turn to live the high life!’
The pirates rowed. One of Bear’s crew said, ‘If he does make it out alive, he’ll find others to follow him, you know that? Why shouldn’t I cut your throat now and gain his favour?’
‘Because you’re greedy, like me. If you cut my throat, you’ll never get that galley safely out of these rocks. Besides, even if Bear lives, it’ll be too late,’ said Knute. ‘We’ll all be safely gone.’
They reached the galley and quickly climbed aboard, other longboats and a few swimmers reaching the ship at the same time. The ship creaked as the longboats were hoisted aboard. Men scrambled up ropes while others lowered nets to haul the riches taken from the Ishapian ship. The crew moved with an efficiency rarely seen, spurred on by equal shares of avarice and the fear that Bear would suddenly appear. Finally they lashed the cargo to the centre deck and Knute said, ‘Get underway!’
‘Where are we going?’ asked one of the pirates who had rowed Knute to the galley.
‘To a rendezvous down the coast. I’ve got some men waiting for us who will offload this cargo, then we row this galley out to sea and sink it.’
‘Why?’ asked another man as the crew gathered around Knute.
‘Why?’ echoed Knute. ‘I’ll tell you why, fool. That ship we took was the property of the Temple of Ishap. In a few days the entire world is going to be looking for the men who sank it. Bear’s got that ward against priests, but we don’t. We’ll divide up our shares and go our separate ways, tonight!’
‘Sounds good,’ said one of the sailors.
‘Then get to the oars! The slaves are half dead and I want us split up and every man on his own by sunrise!’ shouted Knute.
Just then, Bear’s voice cut through the storm. ‘It’s mine!! I had it in my hands!’
All eyes turned to the sinking ship, and against a lightning flash they could see Bear standing at the rail. Slowly, he climbed atop it, shook his fist as the retreating galley, and leaped into the water.
Like a spur to a horse, the sight of Bear plunging into the water as if to swim after them caused the sailors to spring to action. Below, the hortator’s drum began to sound as slaves were unchained and pushed aside by frantic pirates. Knute paused a moment to look where Bear had stood outlined against the lightning flashes. For an instant Knute could have sworn Bear’s eye had been glowing red.
Knute shuddered and turned his mind away from Bear. The man was terrible in his anger and his strength was unmatched, but even Bear wouldn’t be able to storm into the Prince’s city and find Knute.
Knute smiled. The men waiting for him were expecting a ship full of riches and a dead crew. Poisoned wine and ale waited below, and Knute would pass it out minutes before reaching the rendezvous. By the time the cargo was offloaded and aboard the wagons, every pirate and slave below would be a corpse. His own men would also be departed, but that was an unfortunate circumstance he couldn’t avoid. Besides, it meant more for him and those driving the wagons.
All his life he had waited for an opportunity like this and he was going to be ruthless in taking advantage of it. None of these men would lift a finger to help Knute, he knew, if his life was at risk, so what did he owe them? Honour among thieves might exist with the Mockers, where the Upright Man’s bashers ensured honourable behaviour, but on a ship like Bear’s, the rule was strictly survival by strength, or by wits.
Knute shouted orders and the ship heeled over as it turned against the waves, striking for a safer course away from the rocks of Widow’s Point. Soon the ship was clear of the last of the underwater rocks, and the rowers struck a steady pace. The little pilot moved to the stern of the galley and looked over the fantail. In a brief flash, for an instant, he thought he saw something in the water. It was a swimmer, following after the ship with a powerful stroke.
Knute’s eyes strained as he peered through the darkness, but nothing more was glimpsed of the swimmer. He rubbed his eyes. It must be the excitement, he thought, the chance to at last be rich and out from under the heel of men like Bear.
Turning his mind to the future, he again grinned. He had made deals before. He would pay off the wagoners, have them killed if necessary, and by the time he reached Krondor, every silver coin, every golden chain, every sparkling gem would be his.
‘Where are we going?’ asked a pirate.
‘Captain,’ said Knute.
‘What?’
‘Where are we going, Captain,’ Knute repeated, coolly.
The pirate shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, and said, ‘Where are we going, Captain? How far down the coast are your men?’
Knute