a moment, the stricken ship started to right itself, but the water already on board and the waves that continued to batter from the side, and fill it further, left it lying at a steep angle on its side with the stern slightly raised, and low in the water. Even the thunderous din of the storm could not mask the noise of everything above and below its decks that was not fastened down – and much that had been – crashing towards the lowest point. What they could not hear, but what was even more critical to the stricken ship’s fate, was the noise of the sea rushing into the vessel through every available aperture now open to it, as well as a few that the forceful water had opened up for itself.
It remained at that angle briefly until, without warning, it slipped quickly and quietly beneath the surface. Eight or nine pirates could be seen, when the weather allowed, bobbing in the water, although three were dead already.
One of the archers turned to the Captain, nocking an arrow to his bow. ‘Do we shoot them or bring them aboard, Captain?’ he asked.
His face impassive, the Captain stared for a moment at the figures in the water, then shook his head.
‘Neither,’ he said abruptly. ‘They seal their fate when they sail as pirates: no captain would risk the lives of his crew by taking on board any of those murderous scum. And we have used more than enough arrows already because of the weather and the need for fast action. The sea will take care of them, soon enough.’
He turned to call for Cannick, and found the veteran already standing attentively a few yards away. ‘The other ship?’ the Captain asked.
‘Gone, Captain,’ Cannick said. ‘They started closing in when they saw their friends attack, but then held their position, not wanting to risk anything in this weather, I guess, and waiting to pick up the pieces when we were finished. As soon as they saw the other ship go down, they disappeared the way they had come.’
His leader nodded. ‘I expected as much. They could be close enough to see it sink, but not close enough to see how we did it. If they had known how lucky we were, they maybe would not have left so quickly. But people like that only fight when they think the odds are heavily on their side.’ He smiled coldly. ‘The gods were kind to us today.’ He looked at the seven bodies on the benches. ‘To most of us, at least.’
Cannick nodded. ‘Indeed, Captain. Indeed. And for those others, it was quick. The only good death is a quick one.’
The Captain was watching as the bodies of the dead rowers were unchained and, unceremoniously but with quiet respect, were committed to the tossing sea. Others worked to take down the torn and flapping sail, clear the wreckage and patch up the damage until proper repairs could be carried out. Without turning round, he said, ‘I can see you have got the tidying up under control, Cannick. Just make sure the steersman and drummer work together to keep us afloat. We are damaged and have a bit of rough weather to deal with. We can yet follow the fate of the pirates.’
As he started down the ladder to the deck, he shouted, ‘Once the waves die down, give me a full damage report, on ship and people. And alert me at once, of course, if we have any more uninvited guests looking as if they want to taste our hospitality.’
Cannick grinned. ‘Of course, Captain.’
As the footsteps started down the ladder, Brann eased the door shut and moved back into the cabin, trying to look innocent. As he sat down, the knife prodded him and he realised he had passed up a perfect opportunity to secrete it in the Captain’s cabin. Frantically, he scanned the room for a hiding place for the weapon, but the footsteps outside the door told him he was too late. He dropped back into the chair, resuming his attempt at innocence, as the Captain entered and sat on the edge of the desk, easing off his boots, pouring sea water from them into a nearby basin.
Without looking up as he peeled off his sodden, woollen boot linings, he said: ‘Did you enjoy the view?’
Flustered, Brann floundered for an answer. ‘I… I don’t know what you mean.’
The man’s eyes narrowed in amusement as he walked across the room to hang his sodden and dripping cloak from a peg behind the door, his steps steady and assured despite the violent and unpredictable tossing of the ship. ‘Remember, boy, and continue to remember: it is my job to know everything that happens on this ship – and to notice everything. You would not have been able to see all of our little encounter from the doorway of this room, but you would have seen enough. And do not bother to deny it. Hell’s demons could not have stopped me looking, had I been in your place.’
Brann shrugged. He did not know what to say.
The Captain stared into his eyes, his gaze intense and penetrating as if he were trying to probe Brann’s thoughts. ‘How do you feel?’ he asked at last. ‘It cannot be something you will have witnessed very often.’
Brann fidgeted with his cuff, dropping his gaze to the floor. ‘I don’t know how I feel. Ever since your men killed my family and burnt our home, ever since Boar put a bolt through the head of my brother an arm’s length away from me, ever since I was enslaved, I have felt cold and emotional, opposites at the same time. Most times it feels as if I am just looking at things and working them out, but occasionally, without warning, I feel that I am about to burst into tears for no reason.’ He glanced at the Captain. Seeing his face impassive, he continued. ‘But when I saw all that, I was just numb, taking it all in and trying to notice everything. I was not scared, but I was not brave either – I just felt as if I was no part of it, as if nothing would happen to me.’
He shook his head in confusion. ‘But I should have been scared, and I should have felt sick when I saw what happened to those rowers. Anyone would have.’ He looked up at the Captain. ‘But I didn’t. Does that mean I am evil? Those men were torn apart, and I felt nothing. Am I evil, now?’
The Captain put a hand on his shoulder, as awkwardly as he had done earlier. ‘No, your mind has switched part of itself off because of all you have experienced. You could not have coped with the emotions created by even a fraction of what you have had to face, else you would have gone mad. It is too much, so your mind protects itself. You will learn quickly about everything you see, because you will analyse everything without emotion cluttering your thoughts.’ He moved to lean heavily with both hands on the desk, staring at the dark wood but seeing something far from the dim cabin. He sighed. ‘But we all need our hearts as well as our minds, so you will open yourself up again in time and, by then, you will be tougher and better able to deal with the more unpleasant side of life. Be careful. All men have a darkness within them, and a light, in differing balances. But if you create a void within, the darkness may fill it completely before you begin to let light back into your life once again. At the moment, you may not like your situation, but whatever point you are at in your life, the present is the only reality. You can work to change the future, but not the present. If it is your fate at the moment to be a slave, it is not my place to question the will of the gods, and neither is it yours. That is the belief of my people and, among the many races I have met in my travels, I have not found a reason that can invalidate its simple truth, so it will do for me. As it would serve you well, also.’
‘I understand that, but there is another thing I do not understand.’ Brann’s brows were furrowed. ‘I was told that the rowers were prized slaves, that their well-being was important to the ship. Yet those who lost their lives while sticking to their duty were just dropped over the side, like rubbish. How can you expect the others to give their all if that is how those men were treated?’
The Captain smiled. ‘Your feelings may have been put on hold, but you have been thinking about what you have seen. That’s a start, at least. And I can see how it would appear to you that way. But these men live in a hard practical world. Had those men been injured, we would have done all in our expertise to save them, or at least to ease their suffering. But they were dead. And what were we to do with the bodies? Store them on board to attract disease and serve no purpose? Quick clean disposal was right. They had no family here, and the gods already know them, so what would be the point of a ceremony when we are already battling a storm? The men they were in life will determine their passage to the next world, not prayers offered on their behalf once they are already travelling