The Overending Page 7

  “Careful now,” Klemés told himself. “Don’t panic. Strike only when the head is flying at you.” Sweeze’s agonized pleas for help were gradually growing fainter as he fought for breath against the tightening coils. As if by some unseen force, Klemés took the risk to turn his attention from the snake to look at Sweeze. Their eyes met. The horrific signs of hope slipping away were starkly visible in Sweeze’s nearly lifeless eyes.

  “NO! BY THE ANCIENTS!” Klemés roared! “YOU WILL NOT HAVE SWEEZE!” His eyes shot back to the snake just as it struck. The gaping mouth of the monster, needle sharp fangs intended for his neck, had reached within an arm’s length when Klemés’ hatchet hit home. Slicing the brute’s head cleanly between the eyes, the snake’s body dropped in a clump.

  Shaking from the battle, Klemés watched as another member of the boarding party jumped over the window ledge and immediately went to assist Sweeze. “Klemés! Help me!” the sea-beast called. Once again pulling himself back from the mesmerizing power of a Red Glove encounter, Klemés rushed to help. With both sea-beasts working, they soon had loosened the grip of the now lifeless snake. As the coils relaxed, the two sea-beasts seized Sweeze by the shoulders and pulled him free from the snake’s embrace.

  Klemés expected that every bone in their shipmate’s body might be broken. However, he was relieved to discover that Sweeze did not appear to have suffered lasting damage from his ordeal.

  “Thanks—nearly had me as lunch,” Sweeze gasped as he struggled to regain his breath.

  “Well, I guess we spoiled his appetite,” Klemés replied, his face grim. Surveying the huge snake, he realized they must abandon their boarding operation. The Rummers had, indeed, left a watch on the ship.

  By now, other comrades had joined the group in the cabin. Klemés directed that boarding process be stopped. “Back to the boats!” Klemés ordered. “We’re not going to board this death trap. No telling how many of these ‘lookouts’ they have posted. No time to find out—back to the original plan. You get out of here with Sweeze. Send all but one of the boats back to Ord with news of what has happened. I will put a torch to the ship and then come flying down that boathook. Be ready to run those oars as fast as you can when I land back in the boat.”

  Carefully fixing a length of rope around Sweeze, they lowered him to the boat below. When that was accomplished, the remaining sea-beasts skittered down the boathook.

  Left to himself, Klemés explored the cabin in greater detail. From its favored place in the stern, large size, and furnishings, there could be little doubt it was the captain’s cabin. One item of the furnishings caught his eye immediately. Extending the entire length of one side of the cabin stood a richly polished mahogany cabinet. A set of eight exquisitely carved doors provided access. Klemés tried the handles on several and found that them locked. “Such a beautiful locked cabinet, in the captain’s cabin, can only be meant for one thing,” he thought. Taking his hatchet, Klemés shattered the lock on one of the doors. Pulling the splintered door open, his eyes lit up. “Ah! Just as I suspected,” he muttered with a smile. Quickly breaking the rest of the locks revealed the cabinet’s contents: perhaps two hundred bottles of Rummer Rotgut and several casks of Rump Dump. “By the Ancients!” Klemés exclaimed. “That is enough spirits to light this ship up fast!”

  Working feverishly, Klemés moved down the cabinet, systematically smashing every bottle and cask. In a few minutes, the cabin was awash with Rotgut and Dump and the air hung heavy with the odor of spirits. “This will be the biggest explosion Norder Bay has ever seen,” he chuckled. Tying a rope to the cabinet, he let the rest of the rope soak up spirits from the floor. Then, backing quickly to the window he let the soaked rope uncoil behind him and fall into the boat below. Slipping through the window, he scrambled down the boathook.

  Rejoining his shipmates in the boat, he struck a match, setting the rope ablaze. “Hit the oars hard,” Klemés said, “she’s gonna blow.”

  The boat sprang away from the Rummer vessel as flame raced up the rope toward the open window. Klemés’ boat was only a few boat lengths away when the flame reached the cabin awash in spirits. KAAA-WHOOOSH! The cabin exploded. Fiery tounges shot out through the windows. The force of the explosion pushed fire throughout the rear of the ship. In a few minutes, the harbor was alight with the blazing Rummer vessel.

  Klemés and his comrades rowed hard for Dainty’s Shant, arriving just as Ord was directing preparations to raise sail. The eerie, flickering light now illuminating the harbor provided a haunting conclusion to the terror of the recent failed boarding attempt. With the entire Rummer ship now afire, the sound of crackling flames was loud in Klemés’ ears as he reported to Captain Ord. “Sweeze nearly gave his all, Captain,” he said, “but the Rummers won’t be sailing anywhere soon!”

  “Yar!” Ord replied. “Now, let’s get out of here fast.”

  “Then what, Captain?” Klemés asked, aware that their original plans were now a-jumble.

  “We’ll pick Angelana and S’Might up on the beach, then set course for Port Newolf. We will not be able to put in there, however…” He and Klemés exchanged a long meaningful look. Both knew what their situation was. “We’ve crossed over all the way now,” Ord continued. “No ports around here will look on us as honest beasts anymore. We’ve crossed the powers and tossed our lives with the outcasts—only place for Dainty’s Shant now is the Sharkict lands. You’ll put me ashore along the coast near Port Newolf, then sail for the Sharkicts. I’ll slip into Port Newolf and meet up with Marie and Angelana. Take my mother and S’Might with you to the Sharkicts. When you get there, rest there and regroup. I’ll come as soon as I can with my family. We’ll find Dainty’s next means of living from there.”

  “Aye, Captain!” Klemés replied. “For better or worse, we’re free—whatever we had before is gone. Nothing is certain anymore. Every plan we made these last few days has gone wrong. All we have is each other and Dainty’s Shant to sustain us.”

  “And, by the Ancients,” Ord replied, “and by the Ancients…”

  “Ready for your orders, Captain!” a sea-beast called.

  “YAR!” Ord responded. “AWAY!”

  Sails took wind and, with the aid of the running ebb tide, Dainty’s Shant rapidly left Norder Bay and headed down the coast. The explosion of the Rummer ship had dampened the chaos in the town and sent Club Wolves and Rummer Boars hurrying to the seafront. Dainty’s Shant was already well out of the harbor before there were curses uttered at the lack of sailing ships capable of giving chase. With the Battle Stallion cruisers away, there could be no immediate pursuit of Dainty’s Shant.

  An hour later, Dainty’s Shant rounded the rocky point beyond which stretched the Spook’nings. Gleaming white sand stretched for miles—with hundreds of shipwrecks littering the beach and surrounding rocks. Dawn’s light spread across a colossal ship graveyard. At places, so many broken ships were piled up—sometimes on top of one another—that the beach was barely recognizable. Low tide revealed the danger that had taken so many ships to their doom. The beach dropped off into a jumble of jagged rocks running as far as the eye could see. Unpredictable currents and vicious storms created a trap for unprepared ships. Seasoned sea-beasts knew enough to stay far at sea when sailing along the “coast of skeletons,” but there were plenty of fools and unsuspecting newcomers to keep the Spook’nings supplied with wrecks.

  Spying Angelana, S’Might, and Bost waiting on the beach, Ord maneuvered Dainty’s Shant into the calmest possible waters offshore and dropped anchor. The rough surf made for an arduous rowboat ride to the beach, but it was too dangerous to sail closer to shore.

  Ord quickly sent a pickup boat to the beach. Morgan Shorts, a silent, angry-looking, young sea-beast was at the oars. Rumored to have once fought off a cutlass attack without weapons, his face and arms were deeply-scarred. Because he never spoke unless it was required, no one knew much about Morgan Shorts, but—just looking at him—none of his shipmates questioned his courage.
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  Watching the boat heading for shore, Ord’s thoughts were far from his duties as Captain. So much had happened to his family in recent weeks. Everything had turned on its head. From a secure, respected and prosperous life, he was now an outcast—a rogue beyond the law.

  Such distracted thoughts ended however, when a shout rang out. “Sail! Sail on the horizon!” Ord turned his eyes anxiously to the open sea and, to his dismay, saw the sails of a large ship.

  “My glass!” he called. A sea-beast quickly brought his spyglass. Training it on the approaching ship, it took only a few moments to identify the intruder. “Battle Stallion cruiser!” Ord exclaimed. Instantly, Klemés was at his side. Taking his own look at the approaching ship, he confirmed Captain Ord’s identification. There was no doubt that a much larger, heavily armed Battle Stallion cruiser was heading their direction.

  “Do you think they’ve seen us?” Klemés asked.

  “I guess they have, I reckon,” Ord replied. “They’ve surely got lookout posted. The cruiser is likely patrolling for smugglers, and we’re anchored along a deserted coast. They’ll be interested in us.”

  “Well, here they come,” Klemés said, pointing. “They’re shifting course—sailing straight at us!”

  Ord experienced a momentary sense of terror. Although it seemed unlikely that the cruiser was specifically in pursuit of Dainty’s Shant, it would still be trouble to deal with the Battle Stallions. “They’ll take no excuses,” he said. “The Battle Stallions will be suspicious of any explanation we offer for why we’re anchored on this lonely beach. Why is Dainty’s Shant away from port with no documents showing a legal voyage? No good way to answer that question.”

  “Stations!” Ord yelled, “Everyone to stations! We sail as soon as the beach party is aboard!”

  Klemés was not listening, however. A commotion on the beach had caught his eye. Motioning to Ord, both beasts observed what was happening on the beach.

  Angelana, S’Might, and Bost had been alone on the beach. Now, however, there was another beast as well. Putting the spyglass on the beach, Ord exclaimed, “Really, it’s the most ridiculous looking Lynx in the world!” Handing the glass to his shipmate, Klemés also looked. He had to agree with Ord’s observation. The Lynx, his face nearly completely hidden by a massive tangle of gray hair and beard, wore a brightly colored print shirt and trousers. Baggy trousers were stuffed into long boots and the shirt hung loosely over the pants. A brilliant sky-blue cloth, wrapped around the creature’s head, was festooned with a multitude of feathers and sea-shells. A traveler’s bag hung from one shoulder.

  “A most curious beast,” Klemés observed. “What do you suppose he wants?”

  “I don’t care what he wants!” Ord growled. “We’ve got a Battle Stallion cruiser bearing down on us. We’ve got to get out of here while we can.”

  The rowboat had now reached the beach and a vigorous conversation erupted among Bost, Morgan Shorts, the Lynx, and Angelana. Although they could not hear what was being said, it was apparent that a spirited argument was in process.

  “GOR AND MON! BY THE ANCIENTS!” Ord exclaimed. “What are they doing? We’ve got no time for this nonsense!” Glancing back toward the sea, his dismay grew deeper. The cruiser, helped by favorable winds, had crowded on all the sail it could carry. It was closing fast. “They’re piling it on,” he said, taking a look through his glass, “they sure do want to talk to us.” There was no doubt now that the cruiser had them as its target. The group on the beach had to return very soon if Dainty’s Shant had a hope of escape. Yet, even as Ord’s anxiety increased, the consultation on the beach dragged on. What were they talking about?

  Klemés was even more concerned than Ord. In his mind, the window for escape already had closed. Even if their shore party returned to the ship immediately, by the time Dainty’s Shant got underway, the Battle Stallion cruiser would be in good position to intercept their course at sea.

  “Captain,” Klemés said, “I think we need to prepare for action. There’s no escaping that cruiser. They’ve got us right where they want us—trapped close to shore. We must leave immediately! We can’t wait for the shore party. We’ve already lost too much time. Unless we get going right away, our only hope is to run wide open along the most dangerous coast anywhere. Runnin’ full speed along this coast is for those who want to die. We either take on the Battle Stallions, or they’ll force us to break up on the rocks.”

  “What about our beasts on shore?” Ord replied. “We can’t just desert them.”

  “No,” Klemés agreed, “that’s why you’re going ashore now.”

  “What?” Ord exploded.

  “We’ve been had,” Klemés said urgently. “That cruiser is supposed to be on down the coast. Someone called it back. It’s after us. We may have been betrayed. There’s no escaping if we delay any longer. Stay here any longer and we risk the entire crew. Either we engage the Battle Stallions on our own terms, or they take us on theirs. We’re outnumbered. That cruiser has more knives and swords aboard than the entire town of Norder Bay.”

  “YAR!” Ord growled, “I’m the captain of this ship and I’ll not be taking orders from you! I’m not going to abandon my command!”

  “With all due respect, Captain,” Klemés replied, “you and I have sailed together a long time, and you know I’ve never opposed you.”

  “No,” Ord said, “you’re the best friend and mate I’ve ever had.”

  “That’s why I know you don’t want to be a total idiot,” Klemés smiled grimly. “Which is exactly what you will be if you risk the entire crew or desert your mother! You can’t have it both ways this time, Captain. The only way to save the crew and not desert your mother is for you to go shore—now, immediately.”

  “So, if I leave, what will you do?” Ord asked.

  “We’ll sail Dainty’s Shant straight out to sea, setting a course directly at the cruiser. I want them to believe we’re attacking them. As we close in, we’ll set fire to some damp tar-soaked rope and sailcloth. That won’t flame enough to endanger the ship, but it will smoke terrible. The Battle Stallions will see us billowing smoke and think we’re sending a fireship to ram them.” Klemés paused, looking thoughtful. “But, by the Ancients, we won’t set them afire. I only want them to think we will. I’m counting on them to turn and try to sail out of our way. When they turn aside to avoid a collision, they’ll have to show us their tail. When they do, I’ll aim my giant fishhook at their rudder and blast it at them. I’m hoping to destroy their rudder and, maybe, crack a hole in their hull below the waterline.”

  He stopped and winked at Ord. “I don’t want to kill those beasts, but I don’t mind getting them a little wet. I’ll give them as much trouble as I can.”

  “Sounds like out of the frying pan, into the fire for you,” Ord responded.

  “Don’t you worry about me,” Klemés continued. “They’ll be busy with my ‘fireship’ and so confused—I hope—that they won’t know what is happening for a while. If my giant fishhook works, that will buy enough time for Dainty’s Shant to get away before anyone can pursue us. Maybe it will also help you get away on shore.”

  “Sound ‘All Beasts on Deck,’” Ord said grimly. Klemés sounded the signal, and quickly the crew assembled. Captain Ord briefed them on the new plan. There was no protest from the crew at the idea of Ord leaving the ship. Every sea-beast knew that the best possibility of escape lay with the ship. It would be much easier to hunt down those on shore than capture Dainty’s Shant if she could slip past the cruiser. Once on the open sea, it would be hard to catch her. Of all the crew, Captain Ord and the party on shore had the least chance to escape. They were being sacrificed to save the crew. However backwards it might seem for him to abandon the ship, the crew knew that Captain Ord was acting as a true captain.

  In short order, Ord went over the side and began rowing, alone, toward shore. Aboard Dainty’s Shant, rapid preparations for the coming encounter with the cruiser were made. Large coils of rope
and sailcloth were smeared with tar and piled in the Dainty’s bow. When the moment came, a smoky fire could be lit easily.

  “When Dainty’s underway,” Klemés said, giving his final instructions, “I want every available beast below deck, waiting at the sweep ports. Only those we need to manage the sails will be on deck. If—I mean, when—we get past the cruiser, we’re going to pile on sail and run the sweeps like mad beasts! Even if we cripple the cruiser, I want to lose ourselves in as much sea as we can, as fast as we can. Now, every beast to stations!”

  “Aye, Capt’n Klemés!” a burly Sharkict called out.

  “Dainty’s Shant has only one captain at a time,” Klemés called back. “I’m the ship’s carpenter, just standin’ in for Captain Ord while he’s otherwise occupied. As it’s always been, this ship elects its captain—and we’ll have an election just as soon as we’ve got a bit more time!” For the sea-beasts assembled on deck, Ord and Klemés had always been like brothers. Through thick and thin, hurricanes and scrapes with pirates, they worked together as one to serve the ship. In years past, the crew had tried to elect Klemés as second-in-command on Dainty’s Shant, but he had always opposed such efforts. “You rattle-brains drop that idea!” Klemés would protest. “You need a Captain’s Second who can read—not an ignorant, unschooled Wood Cow like me! An illiterate ship’s carpenter as Captain’s Second? Who ever heard of such stuff!” Although every sea-beast knew that their ship’s carpenter solved baffling problems, and often was the wisest among them, Klemés never wavered in his opposition. Over many such protests, the ship settled into a good-natured stalemate: if the crew could not elect Klemés as Captain’s Second, they would elect no one; and Captain Ord went to Klemés as his Second as needed. No beast wondered who was in charge as Dainty’s Shant sailed to meet the cruiser.

  Whether still Captain or not, Ord’s attention now focused on pulling for the beach. In an odd way, although facing Dainty’s Shant as he rowed, it was now as if he had turned his back on the ship. He felt strangely drawn to find out what was happening on the beach. The Lynx somehow had captured the attention of everyone around him. Angelana was no fool. The crew members sent to pick her up were seasoned sea-beasts. The animated conversation that had held up his plans must be important.