strange sensation run through him. It was as if his energy and life force were suddenly being sucked from his body. Tarren’s chest heaved as a great wave of energy coursed through Whill and into the boy. Whill became dizzy and disoriented as men fought around him and the boy in his arms. He became aware of nothing but Tarren and himself and the bond they now shared. A strange blue light was all Whill could see as tide after tide of energy pulsed through his body and into Tarren’s. As the blue light faded into blackness, Whill was suddenly jolted out of his trance and slammed to the deck as the sounds of the world came rushing in. He saw blood and bodies and fire and Abram looking down at him as a red dragon flew overhead.
Abram shook Whill but he would not respond. He was unconscious and would remain that way for sometime, if he snapped out of it at all. The fighting had slowed as many slaves and pirates stood dumbfounded by what they had seen. Abram rose. There was nothing he could do for Whill now but win this battle. He turned to the slaves.
“Behold, men, your gods fight with you! Go forward without fear, and may the blessing of the gods lead your strikes!”
The slaves’ cheers grew into a primal scream. The pirates upon the deck did not live more than ten heartbeats after that. The slaves were heading up the ropes when suddenly an explosion hit the pirate ship, deafening all nearby momentarily and shaking many from their feet. From the ship Abram saw the source of the carnage: a massive red dragon. The distraction was enough to ensure that the climbing slaves could make it up the ropes to the deck of the pirate ship, with Abram right behind them. He hit the deck and was engaged by a pirate wearing all black, with only a thin slit revealing his eyes. He brandished two daggers and came in hard, slashing with one and stabbing forward with the other. Abram barely avoided the slash but was ready for the stab. When it came he spun away from the strike and jumped up onto the rail, knowing that the pirate would go for his ankles with those deadly weapons. Abram jumped backwards from his perch and brought his legs up high, tucking his knees and then came down with a powerful slice. The pirate swiped at his legs with both blades but missed. He had a glimpse of his leaping enemy and a shining blade, and then he saw no more.
The slave men were tearing into the pirate force with reckless abandon. The ship was aflame, and the dragon repeatedly swooped down on the battle and scooped up a pirate in his huge claws or maw. Down into the battle the dead and bloodied pirate would drop, usually on top of one of his comrades. This horrible image alone sent many pirates scrambling for the rails and into the ocean. Abram had his suspicions as to why the dragon seemed to fight for him, he did not care. It was enough. The slave men had already begun opening the many iron doors upon the deck that led to the slave quarters, setting their families free.
“Get them onto my ship and set sail!” Abram ordered. “Do not wait for me—look for me in the waters!” He spotted Cirrosa making a run for the lower decks and he followed. Through a door and into a small stairwell went the most wanted pirate in two centuries, whose scrolled list of crimes against the peoples of every kingdom in Agora would have fallen to the floor. Murder, theft, kidnapping, rape, torture, and many, many more vile and heartless acts—Abram wanted this man dead out of sheer duty if nothing else. He followed Cirrosa slowly into a large room below. It seemed to be the mess hall for the sailors; there was a door to the kitchen on the right, and three doors to the left.
He knew the Dragon ’s style of ship, so he knew to take the door to the right. Upstairs and into the captain’s quarters he went cautiously, and there he found Cirrosa and a flying dagger. Abram rolled as he hit the landing, a blade whizzing by his head. Then he leapt to his feet and charged at
Abram shook Whill but he would not respond. He was unconscious and would remain that way for sometime, if he snapped out of it at all. The fighting had slowed as many slaves and pirates stood dumbfounded by what they had seen. Abram rose. There was nothing he could do for Whill now but win this battle. He turned to the slaves.
“Behold, men, your gods fight with you! Go forward without fear, and may the blessing of the gods lead your strikes!”
The slaves’ cheers grew into a primal scream. The pirates upon the deck did not live more than ten heartbeats after that. The slaves were heading up the ropes when suddenly an explosion hit the pirate ship, deafening all nearby momentarily and shaking many from their feet. From the ship Abram saw the source of the carnage: a massive red dragon. The distraction was enough to ensure that the climbing slaves could make it up the ropes to the deck of the pirate ship, with Abram right behind them. He hit the deck and was engaged by a pirate wearing all black, with only a thin slit revealing his eyes. He brandished two daggers and came in hard, slashing with one and stabbing forward with the other. Abram barely avoided the slash but was ready for the stab. When it came he spun away from the strike and jumped up onto the rail, knowing that the pirate would go for his ankles with those deadly weapons. Abram jumped backwards from his perch and brought his legs up high, tucking his knees and then came down with a powerful slice. The pirate swiped at his legs with both blades but missed. He had a glimpse of his leaping enemy and a shining blade, and then he saw no more.
The slave men were tearing into the pirate force with reckless abandon. The ship was aflame, and the dragon repeatedly swooped down on the battle and scooped up a pirate in his huge claws or maw. Down into the battle the dead and bloodied pirate would drop, usually on top of one of his comrades. This horrible image alone sent many pirates scrambling for the rails and into the ocean. Abram had his suspicions as to why the dragon seemed to fight for him, he did not care. It was enough. The slave men had already begun opening the many iron doors upon the deck that led to the slave quarters, setting their families free.
“Get them onto my ship and set sail!” Abram ordered. “Do not wait for me—look for me in the waters!” He spotted Cirrosa making a run for the lower decks and he followed. Through a door and into a small stairwell went the most wanted pirate in two centuries, whose scrolled list of crimes against the peoples of every kingdom in Agora would have fallen to the floor. Murder, theft, kidnapping, rape, torture, and many, many more vile and heartless acts—Abram wanted this man dead out of sheer duty if nothing else. He followed Cirrosa slowly into a large room below. It seemed to be the mess hall for the sailors; there was a door to the kitchen on the right, and three doors to the left.
He knew the Dragon ’s style of ship, so he knew to take the door to the right. Upstairs and into the captain’s quarters he went cautiously, and there he found Cirrosa and a flying dagger. Abram rolled as he hit the landing, a blade whizzing by his head. Then he leapt to his feet and charged at
Similar Books
