“Sail-ho captain! Over the port bow!”
Delentas rushed across the
Blue Lioness’ deck. Around him, men grabbed the lines to get themselves atop the wooden bulwarks.
“It’s a
sardaq,[1] captain! She’s flying Efarid colours!”
“Does she have company?” Aion shouted. He was right next to Delantas, as eager as the rest of the crew.
“All alone, sir!”
“How’s the weight looking?” Delantas asked.
“Fat and slow, captain! She’s barely keeping herself afloat!”
Aion grabbed Delantas’ shoulders and kissed his cheek. “That one’s bursting, brother!” he whispered.
Delantas turned his head and winked at his brother. A childish smile covered his face.
“Everyone to your stations!” Delantas yelled.
Happy times.
No armed escorts and few soldiers aboard the merchant ships. It was safe to hunt on broad daylight! Better yet – it was safe to hunt in full view of the coast!
They were sailing so close to the shore that they scared the fishermen into staying in their miserable villages. Sometimes, they saw shepherds and goats over the hills and cliffs. They usually ran away, but when the clamour of fighting echoed up the dry meadows, small crowds would come to watch in terror.
Brutality is a spectacle, after all.
Just like the morbidly curious peasants in the shores, the ships that connected the Efarid colonies around the Medermis Sea couldn’t resist the attraction of the perilous waters. However, instead of the cheap thrill of a safely distant battle, the ship-owners and captains were after the obscene amounts of gold that waited at the end of the trade routes. But when their luck ran out, what was in store for them wasn’t the thrill of a distant battle – it was a quick journey towards a watery grave or, even worse, a sentence to a life in chains.
To corsairs like Delantas, the Efarid Empire’s invasion of Imerria was a godsend. With the imperial war fleets occupied in the north with king Emilar of Aspia, the Medermis Sea turned into a death trap for Efarid traders.
“Look alive down there, let’s go!” Delantas shouted to the rowers in the lower deck.
“Aye, brother!” replied Teserion. “Faster you sons of a dog!”
As the rows punished the calm water, the distance between hunter and hunted shrunk.
Delantas filled his lungs with the salty air, eager to unleash the
Blue Lioness’ jaws on the infidel traders. As the rowing pushed her through the emerald waves, she growled like a hungry beast.
The
Lioness was a fast galley that sailed from the city of Laspis. The owner was Satrion Brimas, a wealthy ship-owner. Delantas was his oldest nephew and captained her together with his two brothers: Aion, who commanded the archers and Teserion, the youngest, tasked with disciplining the rowers.
“We’re gaining on her!” Aion couldn’t hold his tongue. “She’s a fat one, that’s for sure!”
“Let’s give her a reason to run!” Delantas grinned. “Load the guns! That will make her grab her skirt and start running.”
As the crew laughed and cheered, hired artillerymen from Arcossa took aim with the two culverins in the bow castle.
“Ready, captain!”
“Fire!” Delantas bellowed.
With two loud shots, the
Lioness showed her teeth.
Two splashes erupted around the
sardaq’s stern. Delantas could hear the panicked shouting aboard.
“Give us more speed, Teserion!” he cried. “Let’s catch them with their breath stuck in their throats!”
“You heard him!” his brother barked. “Row! Row!”
There was loud drumming and whipping below.
The rowers were mostly Efarid captives from other sorties. There were also thieves, brawlers and sodomites generously provided by the ducal court in Laspis. Teserion didn’t care who they were: despites his youth, he ruled the lower deck with an iron fist. And a deadly whip.
The guns were reloaded.
“Again!”
This time, the shots hit the stern. Deadly clouds of splinters hacked the unluckiest Efarids into pieces. But they replied.
Delantas heard four dry gun shots. They had harquebuses.
“She stings, brother!” announced Aion.
“That means she’s stuffed with something worth our time!” Delantas patted his back. “Ready your men!”
[1] A traditional Efarid ship, similar to the
dhow.