Chapter 162 A Dark Tiding on the Horizon* (1/2)

Sore. So sore that Ebony wasn't sure she'd make it all the way up to the crow's nest before lunch time. As she heaved herself into position however, Isaac could only watch in amusement.

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”Honestly I think you did well to last as long as you did,” he commented.

Ebony sighed, of course he'd seen. He had a view of just about everyone from up here.

”Was that supposed to be support?” asked Ebony.

Isaac nodded, ”It'll help if you do the stretches he taught you. Though apart from that I'm going to assume you'll feel pretty miserable for a couple of days”.

Ebony sighed, bowed her head in disappointment. She would never have insisted if she knew it was this awful.

”Have a good day,” Isaac said, ”I'm off to bed”.

And so he descended below deck, leaving Ebony alone in her suffering.

The suffering in question was not helped by the stretches, if anything it made Ebony more sore and tired than before. Though it was possible she was doing them wrong considering the confined space she was in.

When it came time for her to come and judge the fights below, the first of five groups stepping up to compete, she waved down and told them to pick someone that had been eliminated. She was not making the trip down more times than was necessary.

Jeremiah took up the judging position without complaint.

Meanwhile, Ebony alternated between her embroidery, watching the waters around the ship, and thinking about the sparring session between Rassa and Aegin last night. She had only ever seen the two fight once before, and they'd been a whole lot more violent than the style they'd used last night. The style from last night was so delicate and fluid. One barely moved from one step to the next and yet such small movements could mean the opponent's loss.

Ebony had at first been eager to learn, but the longer she watched Rassa and Aegin spar, the more she felt like she was in over her head. How could she ever learn to react like that? To know when to make the next move, or even what the next move would be. It was all rather daunting, and within her stressed self, she had collapsed under the weight of the rope and the strain on her muscles.

Still, she'd asked for this, the least she could do is see where it led.

The competition below her on the deck continued. She rarely looked down to watch considering her fear, but she still heard the results from Jeremiah's loud calls. It seemed the points system for the round was based on how quickly the rounds ended.

If an opponent won within 10 moves, they'd get ten points. Between 10-20 moves, 9 points, and so on. A loss would constitute points being subtracted. It worked in the same system as the winner, however many points the winner won, was however many points the loser lost. As such, the fights tended to drag out, but this seemed to be a norm for the most part. The point system seemed to have been designed for this purpose.

It was only the first group who were fighting today, this group included Midas, but no other members that Ebony knew or had spoken to before. She'd seen all of their fights though, so she knew they were all adequate fighters. Midas swept through all his opponents to earn a total of 24 points, none of his fights had lasted longer than 57 moves.

As they were watching the final fight of the round, Ebony looked up from her embroidery to survey the ocean around the ship briefly. The horizon looked clear all the way around, and she turned back to her embroidery, only to pause and glance back up again. Had it been a trick of the light? For the briefest instant the horizon hadn't looked so clear as it had all day.

She turned back to look out past the starboard stern. Her eyes squinted and she blinked to make sure her eyes were clear.

There, right on the horizon, what was that black spot?

Ebony pocketed her embroidery and took out the spyglass that Isaac had given her, pulling it out and looking through it carefully. She had marvelled before at how it had magnified objects that were many lengths away. Now...now she was just grateful.

There, closing in from the horizon, a ship with black sails, that could only mean one thing.

Pirates.

As Ebony went to shout to the deck, she caught the glimpse of something else out of the ordinary, and she paused for a second.

It was more than one ship.

Ebony's eyes narrowed as she put her fear behind her, leaning over the side of the crow's nest to shout down at the rowdy sailors on deck.

”Pirates!” she shouted, ”Pirates to Starboard Stern!”