Clayton Emery - Forgotten Realms - Forged In Fire

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Forged in Fire

by Clayton Emery

Originally appeared in

Forgotten Realms:

Realms of the Deep

"Have at 'em, my hearties! Sweep them into the sea, my brave ones!"

Screaming, swinging cutlasses and scimitars, pirates boiled over the side.

Bounding from the deck of their dromon onto the merchantmen's cog, bare

feet slapping the deck, the pirates rushed the quarterdeck with steel

slashing the air.

Clustered on the quarterdeck were a captain and first mate who shouted

encouragement at a dozen sailors. Simple merchantmen, they looked

reluctant to fight.

And, clambering carefully over the foaming gnashing space between ships,

came the corpulent pirate chief who urged on his cutthroats with a cyclone

of words. Named Heart of a Lion, he no longer fought toe-to-toe with

enemies, but kept to the rear to supervise. Someone had to watch the two

ships lest they ran aground, after all. He hollered, "Take them, my

fearsome children! A swift attack brings a short battle!"

Howling, thirty pirates split into two packs like wolves and surged up the

short companionways to the quarterdeck. With luck, terror would make the

merchantmen drop their arms and surrender. Yet Heart of a Lion noticed the

merchant captain, a skinny blackbearded man, had been born with a scowl,

and the first mate's face was tattooed like a desert nomad's. Too, the other

companionway was guarded by a lean woman in bright pinks and yellows,

and such people were always trouble.

Sure as taxes, he saw, the ship's officers offered the pirates straight-thrust

steel.

A pirate swung his cutlass to bat the first mate's scimitar aside, but an arm

like oak simply riposted. The pirate yelped and jumped, pinked in the thigh.

Hampered by the narrow stairs, another pirate sliced his cutlass at the

mate's ribs, but that blow too was deflected, and the mate drew blood from

a forearm. Below, in the waist, Heart of a Lion hollered useless

instructions: why would his crew never listen at sword practice? The chief

was glad to see a tall pirate finally reach past his fellows and ram hard

with a boarding spear. The first mate dodged, but banged into his captain

alongside, and the spear split his throat. Gargling blood and spraying his

enemies red, the first mate dropped.

Pirates hollered in triumph, and pushed across the red-slick deck after the

rangy captain. He bore a worn scimitar and a small round shield with a

nasty spike. He swiped viciously to fend two pirates back, then lunged at a

third. A fast chop cut a pirate's wrist to the bone. As blood fountained and

the pirate screamed, a shipmate behind rammed him with a shoulder. The

wounded pirate blundered into the merchant captain, tangling him. A

boarding pike hooked the captain's leg. Tripped up, the captain crashed on

his back. Quick as cats, two female pirates jammed blades in his belly and

throat. With their officers dead, already the sailors were throwing down

their rusty scimitars while the pirates hooted.

"Excellent! Your captain is proud!" yelled Heart of a Lion. Then, since he

was captain, he swiftly marked the progress of the two ships. The pirate's

dromon, a long lean lateen-rigged many-oared vessel named Shark's Fang,

was bound to the merchant's cog by stout ropes tipped with chains and iron

grapnels. Locked, the two ships pitched and yawed in the lee of a big island

to the south. Tharsult of the Shining Sea had many rocky clefts

deep-shadowed by dawn, an excellent spot for ambushing the sea lanes.

Waves burst into spray against its seaweedy shore. With a full day of

bright sun burgeoning, the pirate chief exulted. They could loot this vessel's

cargo and be hidden again by sundown.

Heart of a Lion carried no weapon, only a hollow tube of brass that he

waved while exhorting his crew. "Press on, sons and daughters of seven

devils! Conquer like kings! Drive -- eh? Curse me for a camel boy!"

In a heartbeat, the second pack of pirates had run into a tigress.

Blocking the starboard companionway was the lean woman in pinks and

yellows, the colors of the Nallojal, the Navy of the Caleph of Calimshan.

Her white cork helmet, wrapped with a purple turban and sporting a brass

bill, identified her as a lieutenant of the Imperial Marines. She hefted a

straight sword like some Northerner, and fire flashed from her eyes as she

hollered, "Glory to the Caleph!"

Down in the waist, Heart of a Lion groaned. He may need his brass tube,

despite the danger of burning the ship to the waterline. Didn't anyone

simply surrender anymore?

Charging the lieutenant came a huge pirate named Tasyn, famed for his

brawling and swordwork. He leered as he feinted with his cutlass, relying on

a trick to distract her. While the swordsman feinted, the lieutenant struck.

Cruel as a dragon's claw, her straight-bladed sword skimmed his knuckles

and chunked into a knee carelessly put forward. Tasyn's eyes widened as

pain seared his leg, then it crumpled. As the big pirate tilted to the

wounded side, the lieutenant slammed the side of his neck. Blood

pinwheeled into the sky and striped the lieutenant's blouse and vest.

Another pirate, a woman, attacked as the lieutenant dispatched her first

victim. The pirate squatted so low her hams brushed the deck, then she

stabbed upwards to spear the marine's groin. Fast as thought, the

lieutenant's blade spanked the pirate's cutlass so hard the tip bit the deck,

then the straight blade bounced back up. The female pirate saw the sword

tip fly for her face like an arrow, then the point pierced her eye and brain.

Ducking herself, using the dropped bodies as a barrier, the lieutenant

flicked her sword tip at pirates who suddenly hung back. She taunted,

"Come closer, jackals! Taste the iron tongue of the Imperial Marines!"

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