Part 32 (1/2)
”I told you I have no control over that. Its the will of G.o.d, or more likely His whim.”
”Maybe its his will, but its still your mood that inspires it-your anger, your pride-something.”
”Leave me be!”
Another cannonade. More heavy b.a.l.l.s whistled by. The sea erupted before and behind them with the plunging shot. Then there was an explosion over their heads. The mizzen-mast boom split and shattered into kindling over the stern cabin, sail and rigging cras.h.i.+ng down over the shouting rowers.
”Sancta mierda! Holy s.h.i.+t!” Buey was roaring. ”Turn this vessel about and lets give them a taste of our own guns. Lets die like soldiers, not rabbits!”
”Simon-” Gonji leapt up from where he had been thrown back by the impact. ”What is it, Simon?” he yelled, grabbing the lycanthrope by one sinewy arm that felt like threaded cable. ”Are you afraid youll harm your precious Golden Fleece Knights? Whats going to happen to all these people? If you can raise a storm, youll imperil us just as surely as them, but at least well have an even chance to survive. They cant attack us in a storm. For G.o.ds sake-do what Ive seen you do-call on the storm kami-raise the kamikaze, the Divine Wind!”
Simon pushed him down and ran back to help the people clear the heavy tangle of debris at the stern. Another volley raked the air all about them-chain shot, intended to shred their sails. A cannonball slammed into the portside hull above the water line, but at an acute angle, glancing off the boards and rocking the galley violently. Most of the s.h.i.+ps complement were knocked off their feet, amid screams and prayers for deliverance.
Gonji descended on Simon in fury. ”All right, all right, forget that youre a man, then. Be a scurrying beast. Run to your dinghy and hide under your canopy so that no mere mortal eyes can see your terror and cowardice!”
”Ill kill you for that!” Simon stalked him, fists balled for mayhem. The lupine silver eyes that bore into Gonjis soul flashed with fervent emotion.
Gonji pulled the Sagami from its scabbard. ”Come on, then, friend. Rip me to shreds. Show them what a monster you truly are.”
”Im not a monster!”
Simon wrenched a saber from the belted scabbard of a mercenary and lashed out at Gonji, their blades sparking and shrieking in metallic wrath in the las.h.i.+ng sea spray. The samurai fended and parried on the s.h.i.+fting deck, fighting only defensively as he backed against the entrapping focsle. The shroud of the topsail was split by a cannonball that sailed on into the sea as they fought, tattered canvas fanning about the hole. Their s.h.i.+pmates roared from the oars, bellowing at the two to stop this madness.
An angry wind began to lash the sea, rocking the galley with its gale force. Icy rain swept across the deck, then whipped into a roiling column as bodies were strewn across the boards, some injured and bleeding, scrabbling for the relative safety of the hatches.
Simon raised his saber high overhead, his mouth a great silently crying rictus as he stood above the samurai. Gonji knelt on one knee in a corner, katana angled defensively overhead. The lycanthrope slowly lowered his sword and wiped the slas.h.i.+ng rain from his obscured vision. He looked around him, out to sea, chest heaving as he grimaced.
More than one voice chimed out: ”Look-!”
Gonji rose at his side. The others began to quit the oars and join them at the rail, clinging to the rigging and gunwales for purchase on the tossing deck. They stared incredulously at the ma.s.sive enemy gallea.s.s. She was caught in a tempestuous sea, her sails faces full to bursting with the sudden colossal gale, as if battered from mighty crosswinds.
Tempest-tossed and storm-battered though they were, the refugees soon realized that the worst of the storms fury had mystically spared them. The Venetian galley now began to make slow but inexorable headway, separating from the gallea.s.s, which seemed cupped in a maelstrom.
”Yoi,” Gonji breathed, eyes s.h.i.+ning as if at a revelation. ”Now-now-weve been granted a reprieve. Get to the oars. Everyone. Row till your backs break!”
They took up their places, pulling at the oars for fair. They rowed throughout the day, taking food and water as they bent to their endlessly agonizing task. Yet not a complaint was heard, but only the occasional yelp of death-confounding glee to see the gallea.s.s slowly diminish in the eerie storm they left behind, far to the north.
A heavy gloom descended before the setting of the sun. When Simon took up his place in the skimming dinghy that trailed the galley by its long lanyard, a deep fog overtook them from astern. The rowers continued well into the night, small crews breaking off in s.h.i.+fts-not a man of them able to stand straight without groaning against their aches-to s.n.a.t.c.h at a brief respite and lend a hand with the repair of the sails and mizzenmast boom.
They chattered nervously to smother the sound of Simons dreadful transformation, all of them understanding by this time the agony attendant on the werewolfs erupting out of the body of the man.
Del Gaudio was the first to spot the small boat nestled in the fog.
”The one from last night?” Gonji inquired. Several grunts came in affirmation. ”Who are they? Howd she make it through the storm?”
”Their sails are furled, yet they keep pace.”
”Pretty close now,” Orozco observed. ”She bears no guns. Whats her intent? Should we try to hail her?”
”No,” Gonji spat, swallowing back the unbidden tremor in his voice. He scratched at the back of his head nervously. A vague alarm had begun to sound inside him.
”Its a felucca,” Corsini identified, just as the first thunk of a crossbow quarrel broke the whispering silence. It had plunked through the hull above the waterline.
”What the h.e.l.l? They must be mad.”
Another shot lanced into the water off the starboard bow. Two clacked into the deck boards.
”Yiiiii!”
A mercenary clutched at the bolt that sprouted from his clavicle, eyes straining at their sockets. He emitted a gurgled outcry as he wrenched at the invading missile, then twisted down onto the deck, las.h.i.+ng out in his death pangs. His mates looked on, paralyzed with shock, to see the spreading pool of blood emerge beneath his twitching form.
Two more near misses before they hit the deck, eyeing one another wildly.
”Sons...o...b..i.t.c.hes,” Buey swore. ”We turn and send them to the bottom.”
”No,” Gonji countered, ”we can outrun them. They cant keep pace. We havent time to waste. By the time we come about and deal with them, that gallea.s.s could be back on our behinds. Do you want that?”
They stared at him a moment, something in his tone that theyd not heard before raising wary looks. Then they were back to the oars, pulling and craning their necks to starboard at the same time.
Bolts continued to plunk into the s.h.i.+p from time to time, almost lazily. Whoever they were, their arrogance was insufferable. Their lack of concerted fire testified to their contempt for the firepower and valor of the galleys crew. But there was something else troubling the renegades: At this distance, their accuracy was incredible. Pus.h.i.+ng the arbalests firing range to the limit, they were nonetheless striking their target with fearsome regularity.
Makes.h.i.+ft s.h.i.+elding was raised along the starboard side of the s.h.i.+p. The intimidating impacts of bolts continued sporadically through the night. When dawn broke, the fog lifted, and the felucca receded from view.
Forty-seven bolts dotted the protecting s.h.i.+elds and hatch covers. The dead mercenary was consigned to the sea.
A change came over Gonji the next day.
He sat at the tiller hour after hour, staring beyond the s.h.i.+ps wake at the distant northern horizon. He was tormented by baleful memories, for he knew now who his pursuers must be, and he feared them. Feared them more than he had the gallea.s.s; more than any nemesis in a long time.
Grim recollection of the reanimated dead man who had testified against Gonji at the Burning Court fortified his certainty: The Dark Company had been set on his trail again. And he knew that his hated enemy, Balaerik, must be the power behind this vile necromancy, as well.
Gonjis nightmares were still crowded with the images of death and loneliness their unearthly pursuit had visited on him over a year ago. He had lost many close friends to their uncanny skills, and it had been his fault, for he had found no way to deal with this threat that seemed to regard him so lightly, as it tormented him.
At midday Valentina brought him a light repast of smoked fish and ale. He turned down the ale and drank water instead. Already their drinking water had gone stale.
”Its a relief to see, you know,” she said to him.
He cast the woman a wondering glance. ”Whats that?”
”That you can be afraid of something, like everyone else.”
”Does it show that obviously?” he sighed, squaring his shoulders and turning back to the sea.
”Who are they, that they bother you so much?”
His brow furrowed. ”An old enemy. Killers of those I hold dear.” He was surprised to hear his own frankness.