Read Blood and Steel (The Cor Chronicles Volume I) Page 6

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  Cor had been on his third voyage with the Shet captain, a minor affair to be sure, when he had his first brush with combat. A Tigolean alchemist hired Naran to sail to a particular lagoon on a particular part of coastline, and from the jungle there, they would harvest as many of a certain kind of flower as they could find. Captain Naran chaffed at first, the thought of his crew of three dozen hardened sailors picking flowers, but the money made the task make sense. There was no difficulty in finding the place, and it took only a week or so to reach it.

  They had nearly finished the task when a fat Western galleon sailed to the mouth of the lagoon, blocking their exit. At first Naran thought that the alchemist had hired another vessel and crew to do the job or bring back more than Naran’s ship could carry. Too heavy to enter the shallow lagoon, the galleon merely waited at its mouth, slowly circling and watching. Naran thought to wait it out, but three days later, the other vessel still waited. Naran knew he faced privateers.

  He decided to make his run at first light, hoping to catch the pirates by surprise. He knew his ship was far faster and more nimble than his opponents, and if he could only manage to get past, they would never catch him. He bellowed orders to the crew to man oars and sail and to the quartermaster to arm every man aboard. Naran told Cor to stay back. When the heavy, dull iron sword was placed in his hand, Cor had never been more scared in his life.

  Except for maybe once.

  With wind and oar, the ship leapt forward like lightning, making for the far eastern edge of the lagoon’s mouth. The pirate vessel was turned the wrong way, and Cor saw its crew working frantically to bring the big, slow ship around. It looked as if they would make it as they passed exactly parallel to the pirates with more speed than Cor had ever seen, the two vessels heading in opposite directions. Cor watched as a half dozen great ballistae fired from the other’s deck, ropes attached to the giant bolts. Some missed altogether, splashing harmlessly into the water, while others bit into man, deck or hull. The momentum of the two ships pulled the ropes taught, and all this Cor watched in horror as he realized what as about to happen.

  The jolt threw Cor and most of both crews to the deck, and he hit the hardwood planks with splinters in bruised palms. The ropes of bolts that had found their mark snapped immediately, but the damage had been done, their momentum broken. Another half dozen ballista fired, and with their target moving much slower, these all hit their mark, pulling Naran’s ship to a complete halt.

  “Cut the bonds! Cut the bonds!” Naran screamed, running to aid his men in the task. It was too late as the pirates had pulled alongside and were upon them.

  Cor remembered little of his first battle; it wasn’t really his battle anyway. He stood stupidly in a corner while he watched men fight and die around him, having absolutely no idea how to use the cold piece of metal in his hand. He watched in fright as a dark haired Westerner came toward him, sword in hand and a wicked grin on his face. The man had not shaved in weeks, maybe months, and his naked torso was browned from the sun and carried several ugly scars.

  Somehow Cor managed to parry the man’s first blow; it was clumsy at best and the blade was knocked from his hand. The man laughed at this and moved in closer for a killing blow, just as a massive fist carried by an equally massive arm connected with the left side of the man’s skull. His skull emanated a terrific crunch as the man’s limp body flew to lay motionless several feet away. Cor tore his eyes from the body to look up on Naran’s massive bloodied form. The captain shoved Cor into his room.

  Cor sat with his arms around his legs, knees up to his chin for some time as the sounds of clanging steel died off into silence. He cautiously opened the door to find that most of the crew lay dead, but more were the bodies of the pirates. Their vessel was several dozen feet off the starboard side, ablaze and slowly sinking into the deep waters. The remainder of the crew tossed the dead offenders overboard to the waiting sharks. Cor stared with horrified fascination at the death around him; blood was everywhere. Naran approached him.

  “You have never seen such violence,” he said. “This one is a brutal world, boy. You must accept this fact and learn to be of action. He who acts first often dies last.”

  “I think you should teach me to fight sir,” Cor had said.

  “Indeed. We’ve won the day, boy! We sail back to port.”

  Naran himself taught Cor how to fight with a blade, and it seemed that he took naturally to it. He trained daily with a short sword, a weapon of lighter weight and easier to maneuver than Naran’s own monstrous weapon. Cor had several opportunities to test his fighting skills, and he always managed to come through unscathed. Though, fear always stayed in the pit of his stomach. Naran later told him that it was fear that made men brave; without it they were usually foolish and dead.