man had two hands firmly on the sword’s hilt and its tip poised tantalisingly close to the Cragsman’s intestines. Just a little farther, he thought, a good push and it’s all over. He saw his grin widen in the blade’s reflection, brimming with malicious hope.
It was then that he remembered that Rashodd had two hands.
The flat of the second axe came crashing down and slammed against his ribs. His sword clattered to the ground, hands contorting as muscles locked against the blow. Paralysed, he was barely able to let out a pained squawk, let alone squirm away from Rashodd’s massive hand.
‘Kindly use your reason, gentlemen.’ The ire boiling in Rashodd’s voice was reflected in the fingers tightening around the young man’s neck as he hefted Lenk from the deck. ‘Perhaps it has been your woe to have dealt with considerably less couth men than myself, but I can most benevolently assure you that my terms would be considered most generous by anyone slightly less deranged.’
‘There can be no negotiation where blasphemy is involved, ’ Argaol snarled in reply.
‘Ah, my dear Captain, there can be no victory where Rashodd is involved.’ He gestured out over the deck. ‘Amongst his allies are counted men who ply the waters like frogs and fight like devils. Look upon them, Captain, embrace the wisdom of our terms and we can begin the long and arduous process of restraining ourselves from the mutilation of fruits, stones and other synonyms for manhood, ’ he brought his axe up, let the blade graze Lenk’s trousers, ‘starting with this ardent young lad.’
Being strangled by a giant hand and with an axe brushing his genitalia, Lenk began to see the wisdom in surrender. He hoped between what meagre breaths he could muster that Argaol, too, had enough sympathy for his situation, if not his profession.
While he couldn’t twist his neck to see Argaol’s reaction, the captain’s derisive laughter assured the young man that godliness was, in his eyes, well above concern for an adventurer’s dangling bits.
‘And what then, Rashodd? Do we see how many more sacks are slashed before you get your men under control?’ He chuckled blackly. ‘Besides, if you want to negotiate, I suggest you find a more valuable hostage.’
‘Truly, good Captain, it is rare that I find myself in a position where callousness overwhelms me.’ The Cragsman shook his head. ‘I trust the honour isn’t lost on you.’ He looked Lenk over appraisingly like a particularly gristly piece of beef. ‘This upstanding young gent has spilled much blood for your well-being and you would cast him off so crudely?’
‘There are always more adventurers. They’re like cockroaches, as you say.’
The surprise in Rashodd’s voice was genuine. ‘It is with no great glee that I admit I hadn’t expected this of you.’ He twirled the axe in his hands, raising it a little. ‘And it is with even less glee that I make this example.’
‘You ought to listen to the captain,’ someone hissed from behind.
Rashodd turned laboriously with two heavy feet, not nearly deft enough to avoid the arrow that shrieked from the steps and angrily bit at his wrist as it grazed his flesh. His grunt was more of surprise than of pain as he dropped Lenk to the deck, his scowl more of annoyance than anger as he turned to the woman already nocking another arrow.
‘Cockroaches are everywhere.’ Kataria smiled behind her bow, flashing broad canines. ‘Back away from him,’ she gestured to Lenk with her chin, ‘that one belongs to me.’
‘Shicts, is it?’ Rashodd’s thick lips twisted into a grin that was undoubtedly supposed to be coy. ‘My good Captain, you can hardly retain your claims to godliness while consorting with heathen savages.’ He raised his hands, taking a step away from Lenk. ‘By all means, keep the dear lad if you think it will do you any good.’
Her arrow followed him as he took another two steps backwards. It wasn’t until a moment passed that Argaol glanced from the shict to the fallen young man and coughed.
‘Shouldn’t you . . . help him?’
Kataria blinked suddenly, glanced down at her companion and sighed.
‘Yeah . . . I guess.’
Rashodd seemed less than worried, even though Kataria kept her bow aimed at him while she came to Lenk’s side. The pirate, rather, let out a great sigh, as though a potential arrow through the eyeball was all one tremendous inconvenience. He plucked up his stray axe and twirled it.