The WindFlyer

Chapter 31

Draen's PoV

My eyebrows shoot up when I hear it. A slaver ship now approaches us the night after we went through a raid. The crew looks tired, Astoria looks exhausted, I know I'm still not recovered from it. However, Astoria still plans to meet the ship head on for a fight. I admire her courage or maybe her idiocy.

We are now facing the direction of the slaver ship. Astoria sets us full speed ahead and clips her blue mask into place already. I put mine on around my neck this morning and now clip it up. I keep my eyes glued to the fast approaching ship. Astoria's hands grip the wheel with white knuckles and she glowers at the white sails. As we charge forward, I notice the sails of the slaver ship have black streaks running down their sails. Like a great beast clawed them, raking big gashes in the sails. The gap between our two ships closes at a rapid rate and the captain of the WindFlyer shouts over the sounds of the preparing crew. Her voice cold and cruel.

"I want the leader brought to me. Alive," she bites out with a steeled tone. The closer we get to the slaver ship, the quieter the crew becomes. There is a tension in the air, a near excitement, so thick I feel I could cut it with a knife. Astoria cracks her knuckles and rolls her wrists. Andreas draws his sword and grips a rope tightly, ready to swing over. Ren rolls her neck and bears her metal teeth in a feral grin. I glance up at the mast, Sam is perched in the lookout nest, his head cocked like a bird watching their prey. The new boy, Kako, dances from foot to foot, his eyes wide and a pistol in hand. The crew has their masks in place, looking every part like the nightmarish crew legends are told about.

"Ready cannons," Astoria says. She doesn't yell it, merely speaking in a conversational volume. Two crew members disappear below deck to carry out the order. I place a hand on the hilt of my sword. It feels too soon that we are next to the slaver ship. We should have had more time to prepare. We aren't ready, we can't possibly be ready in so little time. My heart rate starts to increase and my breathing picks up. I feel my palms start to get slick, I lick the salt from my lips as my eyes dart about. I feel I hand on my arm and I jump a little. Astoria looks at me with a reassuring nod. I try and return her confidence but I can't seem to manage it.

She maintains eye contact with me as she raises her pistol. I hear it cock and then fire. Then a body splashes into the water. That must have been the signal her crew was waiting for because they bellow a battle cry and begin swinging over to the enemy ship. Astoria tears her eyes from mine and looks accros the way. I follow her gaze and watch as the bloodletting occurs. Great planks are slid between the ships to facilitate running amide the ships. Crew members, men and women alike from Astoria's ship, cut down their foes. I watch as one of the slavers slices the throat of one of our own and grimace.

Astoria ties up the wheel to keep us in place before she darts across a plank connecting the two ships. With one last look around, I follow soon after her. The plank seems much more narrow as I run along it and the drip seems much further down. I force myself to keep going, one step after the other until I've made it. With a deep breath, I draw my sword and leap into the fray.

To say that the raid last night was chaotic would be a good descriptor, but if that was chaotic then this must be chaos manifested in a physical form. The deck is slick with blood of both friends and foe, but I can hardly tell who is friend and who is foe now. The only indicator being the blue masks the WindFlyer's crew wear. I hear someone yell and spin on my heel to see a man charging at me with his sword raised. I quickly meet him with my sword, my arms jarring on impact. I grunt as I push against him. I jump back as his legs attempts to sweep out my own. Slashing my sword at him, I knick the manda arm before he dodges. The man bellows in rage as he charges me again. I dance back, coming in contact with the railing as I do. I duck under his arm and aim a hit at his stomach as I pass but the brute block both. The ship suddenly dips with the waves and i lose my footing on the wet deck. I fall, crashing down on the floor, the impact causing me to lose hold of my sword and it goes sliding across the wood. I bring my hand up and notice it coated red with blood. Not my blood, there is so much blood. It's everywhere. Sticky, warm blood. I force the bile rising in my throat back down. A shadow falls over me, I look up to the slaver I had been fighting looming above. A cruel smile plays on his lips as his raises his arm to sever my head. I try and think. Try and find a way out of this, but with my sword too far I have no defense.