The Deepcombers

Chapter Seven

Lon woke six hours later and found someone had started a bonfire close to his cubbyhole. The blaze smoked as it consumed leafy sapwood and he saw pieces of the broken boat in the embers. He wondered why his companion had gone back to the beach and fetched those planks.

Regardless he felt stronger now and that meant he wasn't permanently affected by the artifact. He was hungry and thirsty for sure, but he knew right then he'd made it over the health-hump. He found his blade still on his stomach but the water skin was missing.

Lon gazed out over the ocean. He saw the glow in the east and knew it was just before sunrise. He scanned the beach and his heart sank. The Annabelle lay close but visible on approach were two black Crolean triremes with yellow deck lanterns. They were a half mile out and closing fast. The slender ships skittered across the surface like water spiders.  Those triremes would stow plenty of landing craft. So that's why Clyde had made the blaze; it was signal fire!

Lon clutched his saber and cast his eyes about the ridge. The berm was now almost entirely devoid of brush and even the sturdy tree upon which he'd supported himself last night had been hacked away to feed the flames. He circled the smoky pyre and spotted Clyde on the other side. 

The clerk's appearance and demeanor had changed entirely during the night. It was obvious he hadn't gotten much sleep. He looked dirty and tired. His face was smeared with ash and sweat and sprinkled with sand. The feigor's fine red cloth gambeson which had appeared so trim just eight hours earlier was now sooty and torn. Lon also noticed how his companion had re-armed himself with a boat saber exactly like the one he carried. The explanation was simple: he must have found the chesty sailor's weapon in the wash. Now he used the blade to chop trees and feed the fire. But why?

"You're signaling them?" Lon pointed at hilltop beacon.

"What? No. Who?" 

Lon glared and the clerk raised his saber and pointed at something ahead in the trees. 

"I'm keeping us alive." Clyde said.

Lon could see his blade had traces of bright red blood and animal fur. Then he heard growls come from under the shady boughs and something gnashed its teeth. The lad raised his own weapon and peered into the glade. He saw two large eyeballs return his gaze. He gasped and now understood why the fire was necessary.

"They're back," Clyde said and pointed left.

The sea drover found himself flanked by ragged looking dogs that'd appeared in the clearing. The shaggy beasts were no bigger than terriers but all had mangy fur and sharp claws and fangs. These blood-thirsty mongrels were here in addition to what remained under the trees ahead.

"What are they?" Lon asked.

"Dread dogs," Clyde said, "The fire keeps em back. And steel." He swished his scimitar through the air in a figure-eight pattern.

Lon studied the beasts. The feral dogs looked half-starved and were likely weak opponents, all things considered. They were all teeth and bones and patchy fur. They growled savagely and crouched down as they crept forward but Lon knew it wouldn't take much to rout them. Even this ill-trained clerk wasn't scared of them, but he was preoccupied and that meant he was unaware of the ships nearby.

Grrowwwl. The lead mongrel stepped forth to try them.

"Watch my back!" Lon said as he closed on the cur. He knew the other canines would circle  and he reckoned whatever lurked ahead would join the others once battle commenced. 

The sea drover went into action so fast the tired scribe couldn't keep up. Fresh and healthy after eight hours sleep, he didn't give the beasts time to think. He ran directly at the mangiest mutt and surprised the malnourished dog with his speed. He also shocked Clyde with his quick style and well-timed strikes. Before the varmint could turn and run, Lon delivered a stunning blow and broke its spine. The creature shrieked as it curled over its limp hind legs. It still tried to bite and scratch but the young lad buried his blade in the creature's head. When he retrieved the knife and looked around the other mutts had fled.