-Nate
Desperate
Measures
Once again Lucinda used Polly to do the scouting and
thus they were able to track the pirates aboard the Resplendent
and Skylark deep into the Sacred Archipelago. This time, too,
the Larks stopped short of overrunning their quarry, and instead
found a small island with a bay in whch they could conceal their own
stolen galley. Some of the crew members set up a crude camp using
spare sailcloth and lumber, while others ventured inland in search of
fresh water. Uriel hunted down a wild boar for them to roast, and
Nar'raw brought in some fish, too.
When they were settled in for the evening, Horace
started working on his clever plan—which began by hauling several
crates of wine bottles from the stolen galley to the beach.
Lucinda raised an eyebrow. “This is your plan? To get
the crew roaring drunk?”
The captain frowned. “Sadly, no. We need to empty the
bottles for an experiment that Max has planned.”
“An experiment?”
“Aye.”
For his part, Max had striped off his leather armor and
most of his clothing, and stood waist-deep in the water. He carried a
large pouch on a carrying strap, one that contained several emptied
wine bottles. To one of them he added several small stones, feeling
the weight of it before adding more, and then replacing the cork and
dropping it into the water. When it floated, he retrieved it, pulled
out the cork again, added a few more stones and tried again. This
process he repeated until the bottle hovered just beneath the
surface. Satisfied, he tucked it back in the satchel before returning
the their camp.
“Captain,” the halfling announced, “I think we're
ready.”
Thus they began the process of preparing more bottles.
On shore, Lucinda and Konrad used a small set of scales to measure
out more of the stones; Horace, Uriel and Max led the other crew
members in filling and testing the bottles. After an hour's work,
they had two dozen ready to go.
“Okay,” Horace declared, surveying their work, “I
think the first part of the plan is finished.”
“And what's the second part?” Lucinda asked.
Now Nar'raw spoke up. “That is up to me.”
“What are you going to do?” Uriel asked.
“I will go and talk to my people.”
* * *
Later that night Uriel paddled their crudely crafted
boat, with Nar'raw as a passenger and Max as a lookout, and paddled
further toward the pirates' position. Once they were as close as they
dared go, they pulled the boat ashore on a sandy beach and turned it
over; Max cut some brush with which to cover it. While he did so,
Nar'raw took a satchel with the prepared bottles, and cinched a belt
with a sheathed knife around her waist.
“Wait,” Uriel interrupted. Loosing the longsword
and scabbard that he wore on his back, he passed them to her. “Take
care of yourself.”
She nodded, and then walked off into the water.
For their part, the men settled in to wait. Mindful of
how close they were to their enemies, they talked little. Mostly they
watched the stars circle overhead, but none of them could sleep.
It was nearly two hours later when Max spied a dark
form approaching through the water. He and Uriel both readied their
bows, until they recognized the telltale form of a lizard person.
It was not Nar'raw, however.
“What's going on?” Uriel asked the newcomer. When
the lizard person just looked at him, the half-orc switched another,
more sibilant language.
The other responded in kind, and Uriel translated. “His
name is Sik'kal. Nar'raw sent him.”
“You understand him?” Max asked.
“I've been... practicing.”
The halfling gave a knowing nod, but the half-orc
ignored it. Instead, he engaged the lizard man with a mix of stilted
language and pantomime. Gradually he was able to translate. “The
pirates have them diving on a wreck near here. He was in the water
when Nar'raw came to him; she told him what we're doing, and then
took his place so that he could come meet us.”
“Wouldn't the pirates notice?”
Uriel shook his head. “No. Sik'kal doubts that they
can tell the lizard folk apart.”
Max snorted. “Did she explain our plan.”
“Yes.”
“And they'll be ready?”
“Yes.”
Max smiled. “Good. Those pirates won't know what hit
them.”
* * *
From the upper aft deck of the galley Resplendent,
Captain Arturo Martelli surveyed the work of his crew and their
forced lizard folk laborers. Although they'd been making slow
progress, the steadily growing pile of material from the wreck, still
imbued with magical energy, attested to the fact that Martelli's
efforts were succeeding. Soon, the pirate captain would gain control
of an aethership.
Admittedly, he didn't understand all of what that
notion implied, but he had a good idea that it made his band of
pirates much more powerful.
“Captain?” It was Julius who interrupted his
musings.
“Yes?”
“Some of the divers, sir. They've been down there for
an unusually long time.”
“What are you saying?” Martelli demanded.
“I'm saying, sir, that I think something is wrong.”
Before the captain could demand an explanation, he
heard another voice cry out. “Ship, ahoy!”
Pulling out his spyglass, Martelli looked in the
direction the lookout indicated. There, indeed, was another galley,
its prow and foremast just emerging from behind the coastline of the
nearby island.
Then plumes of smoke began to rise from the approaching
vessel.
“Damnation,” one of the pirates swore. “A
fireship!”
“Captain?” someone else asked. “Orders?”
“Raise anchor!” Martelli shouted. “Unfurl our
sails!”
Several crew members rushed to the capstan, where they
struggled to comply—and failed. “Captain!” one shouted. “The
anchor's fouled!”
All the while, the other galley continued its approach,
the smoke from it grown thicker and darker.
“Captain?”
Martelli hesitated—and in that moment, a dozen lizard
people popped up to the surface of the water. Each clutched a corked
bottle, and in unison they tossed them up over the galley's
siderails, to smash on its decks. The sound of breaking glass was
startling, but not so much as the smell of spilled lamp oil.
The pirates knew that they'd been beaten, and most of
them leapt overboard, only to be wrestled into submission by the
swarming lizard folk. The oncoming fireship hit Martelli's galley
broadside, its beaked prow driving deeply into the Resplendent's
hull. Flames continued to spread, threatening to set off the lamp
oil.
Arturo Martelli stood his ground, however. “Hold!”
he shouted, and then, fumbling in a pouch on his belt, pulled out
what looked like a black handkerchief. That item he stretched around
the blade of his sword. “Hold, I say, or I'll destroy the eggs!”
For a moment, many who were engaged this battle paused,
waiting to see what would happen. Then a multi-colored figure dropped
out of the air, landing on the sword with a flurry of feathers, and
then took off again with the cloth in its talons. Then Polly, along
with the pirate's last hope of victory, was gone.
Martelli stared at his empty hand for a moment,
stunned. Flames were now spreading quickly over the deck of the
galley, and the smoke made him cough and his eyes water. Reaching
into a different pouch, he muttered a pinch of some substance,
muttered an incantation, and disappeared.
* * *
In the aftermath of that battle, the Larks and their
lizard folk allies settled into the camp that the pirates had built
on the nearby islet. While the sailors built a few fires and began
preparing food, their officers made a solemn presentation. Uriel
approached Nar'raw, holding the cloth that they'd stolen from
Martelli. Then, unfolding it, he spread the cloth out on the sand in
front of her. The moment it was flat on the ground, its surface
seemed to collapse into itself, and there was a hole in the ground.
Inside that hole were dozens of eggs.
Nar'raw gasped and, stooping beside the hold, gingerly
lifted out one of the eggs. Seeing that, the other lizard folk gave a
joyous shout, and rushed forward to join her. As they reclaimed their
eggs, the Larks joined them in celebration. Those who had instruments
began playing music; there was much dancing, and food and drink
flowed freely between all.
A little time had passed before Nar'raw approached
Uriel. “Thank you,” she said, and kissed him.
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