Possessing the Grimstone - By John Grover Page 0,60
of them shimmied. The Brigand looked down and cocked his head as a gauntlet punched right through the top of the barrel, nailng him in the jaw. Tolan burst out of the barrel and drove his sword through the stunned Brigand.
Another barrel exploded, pieces of wood sailing across the ship, and Shannara flipped out of it, spinning into the air, and landing on her feet. A raider rushed her and swung his hatchet. She ducked and slashed out with her dagblades, severing his hatchet hand.
The Brigand screamed with agony before Shannara sliced open his throat with a flick of her wrist.
The deck filled with pirates, screaming madly, swinging hatchets, cutlasses, and hooks with reckless abandon.
Drith burst out of his box and climbed the mast, cutting the ropes and dropping the sails upon the charging men. Confusion and chaos ensued.
Pim climbed out of his box and used his fleet to dash down the length of the boat. He threw all of his weight onto the struggling Brigands beneath the sails, sending most of them over the side of the ship and crashing into the dark waters below.
A raider rose behind the distracted Wivering, but Tolan rescued him with a thrust of his sword, running the man through. His lifeless body tumbled into the sea.
Shannara and her warriors danced and slashed, leaping over their enemies’ heads, and slicing open their legs from behind, crippling them. One of the D’Elkyrie women was caught off guard, and took a hatchet to the chest, hitting the deck hard.
Drith jumped from pole to pole, kicking men off the deck and tearing the ship down piece by piece, incapacitating it. Lastly, he severed the anchor from the ship before leaping into the air. He joined Shannara, Tolan, and the others on the city’s ship.
Shannara and Tolan fetched a pair of bows hidden on the deck, and fired flaming arrows onto the Brigand ship, igniting the deck and sails.
It drifted off into the sea, glowing red as the rising moon bathed the horizon in silvery light.
Cheers erupted on the beach. The citizens of Fionngall rallied around the group.
“That will send a message to the others,” “Tolan said. “You will not lay down and let your city be pillaged. They will believe you can now defend yourselves.”
“And you shall,” Shannara called. She handed a clutch of bows to various men. “Tale the bows and set the arrows ablaze. If other Brigand ships dock in your city, fire at their sails. With no sails to catch the wind, they will be helpless.”
Clapping resounded across the beach. Custodian Chariss approached the group. “Well done! Well done! Fionngall thanks you.”
“We are running out of time, Custodian.” Tolan said. “May we have a ship?”
“Fear not, we will lend you the fastest ship in Fionngall! Sail with the Gods, and may your quest be a success.”
“There’s something slippery about that man,” Drith whispered to Tolan. “I do not like him.”
“I am sure the feeling is mutual,” replied Tolan, returning the Custodian’s waves.
###
The ship was indeed, fast: it was Custodian Charris’s personal ship. Its sails caught the wind like no other, and it propelled across the waves like a dagger through warm butter.
Tolan figured it might only take them six days to reach Norrow, as opposed to ten. Fionngall had been good to them, stocking them up with food and water, including more of that goat cheese everyone had enjoyed in the Custodian’s castle.
Between Fionngall and Norrow lay the Western Isles. They weren’t the friendliest of islands, as the Brigand hailed from one of them. The isles were also home to the largest penal colony in Athora—it seemed ironic that the plundering Brigands were from the same region. Tolan wondered if the colony, home to traitors, murderers, and the insane, was still in operation, or if it had overrun by criminals. He prayed it was still in good order; they couldn’t afford any more delays.
The ship lurched and dipped, waves crashed against it, and the thing rocked dangerously. Pim sat on the deck, trying to stay dry. He looked to his left to see Drith leaning over the side of the boat, vomiting. A gurgle would erupt from the painted king, followed by a series of low grunts, and a splatter. Pim snickered. The fierce Drith was seasick.
The Wivering hopped to his feet and reached into his pack. He walked up to Drith, who’d just finished another round of retching. “Are you hungry?” Pim asked. “I have plenty of goat cheese left.”
Drith got one whiff