one. He waited until the prow butted against another hull, then hauled himself up, launching himself onto the deck of the adjoining boat, drawing the sword from his back as he did so. To his right a man immediately surged out of the smoke, a broad-bladed, cleaver-like weapon raised high above his head. Ellese’s arrow whined past Vaelin’s ear to slam into the man’s chest before he could strike, piercing him from sternum to spine. Vaelin stepped over his rapidly expiring body, sword flicking up in time to parry the thrust of a curve-bladed spear stabbing out of the acrid murk.
The spear bearer withdrew the weapon and tried again, this time aiming a slashing thrust at Vaelin’s eyes. He was swift and evidently practised, his bunched, outraged features smeared with the gore of recent slaughter, but anger made him clumsy. His thrust was delivered with too much energy, causing the weapon to swing wide as it missed its target, leaving his face and neck exposed. Vaelin’s stroke cut him from chin to forehead, rending his already garish features into ruin. He clung to life, however, whirling away with blood spiralling from his bisected features, gibbering in panic. His flailing had the beneficial effect of impeding four of his fellow outlaws, forcing them to dodge his wayward spear as they attempted to charge the newcomers. The pause was sufficient for Nortah to claim two, each with a precisely placed shaft to the chest. A third outlaw cursed and shoved his still-flailing comrade aside, sending him tumbling over the rail into the lake.
Alum leapt into the path of the two remaining outlaws as they resumed their charge. The Moreska’s spear blurred as it whirled left then right, laying open the neck of one outlaw and slicing deep into the arm of the other. The man’s narrow-bladed sword fell from nerveless fingers as he yelled in mingled pain and fury, turning and attempting to flee into the smoke, then falling dead as Vaelin’s throwing knife took him between the shoulder blades.
“Please . . .”
The woman from the foredeck crouched at his feet. She clutched the tattered rags of her clothes against her thin frame. Vaelin winced at the sight of her spine, the bones jutting from flesh denuded by starvation. Clearly, she had suffered much even before falling victim to outlaws.
“Stay low,” Vaelin told her, crouching to put a hand to her shoulder. “This isn’t done yet.”
She shook her head, hair parting to reveal a face hardened by privation, her brows knotted in consternation rather than fear. “The cargo,” she said, pointing to a gap in the deck boards. “If the flames reach it . . .”
Peering through the boards Vaelin saw a sizeable stack of large clay pots, also several pairs of bright eyes staring out of the gloom. Leaning closer he made out the huddled forms of half a dozen children, all as thin as the woman kneeling at his side.
“What is it?” he asked her, pointing to the pots.
“Naphtha. We brought it from home, all this way. It would buy us a new home, my husband said.” She let out a bitter laugh that quickly turned into a cough. Vaelin flared his nostrils, tasting the smoke which he realised held a thick, oily tinge very different from woodsmoke. Recalling the way the fire that claimed the first boat had suddenly blossomed, he cast his eyes over the deck, finding several patches of flame on the ropes and woodwork.
“Alum,” he said, rising. “We need water . . .”
“Uncle!”
Ellese’s shout drew his gaze to the east in time to see a dozen small boats emerging from the smoke, each bearing five men or more, many of them aiming crossbows directly at him. He threw himself to the deck, hearing the overlapping thud of dozens of bolts tearing into timber. When the volley faded he looked for the woman, finding her unharmed and huddled against a grain sack. Hearing a muttered curse, he glanced at Alum as the hunter tied a rag over a cut in his forearm.
A chorus of angry shouts came from the outlaws, and Vaelin raised himself up to see one tumble into the lake with an arrow in his neck. More arrows followed in quick succession as Nortah and Ellese, presented now with a wealth of targets, began a steady barrage. Three more outlaws fell before four boats peeled away from the pack, oarsmen labouring to bring them alongside Crab’s boat. The remainder kept heading for Vaelin, crossbowmen working