Almost as if in answer, arrows were fired from their deck to ours, each one with hooks attached. Erick yelled for his crew to come up on deck as he and I raced to detach the hooks. They were embedded deeply into the wood, so prying them out was no small matter, and before I got one out, three more had attached. Groups of eight to ten men were at the other end of the ropes now attached to us and were pulling our ship closer to theirs.
The next set of arrows to be launched were fire tipped and these flew high, cutting through the sails and igniting them as they passed through.
“Lower the sails!” Erick cried. “Preserve what you can!”
Finally, our ships were so close that I could see the captain’s piercing eyes, and she was certainly focusing on me.
“My name is Captain Jane Strick, in service of our monarch.”
“Of what nationality?”
“Prozarian.”
I squinted. “No, you’re not. The Prozarians are extinct.”
She widened her arms. “Do we look extinct?”
I scratched my jaw and looked over the great numbers of her crew. “Well, to be honest … a few of the people in back could pass as corpses.”
If she enjoyed my joke — which was reasonably accurate — she didn’t show it. “Your crew will fare no better, unless you turn over Jaron to me. Are you him?”
“Jaron will be sent over to you shortly,” I said. “Truly, the crew will be glad to be rid of him. In exchange, you will agree not to cause any further damage to this ship, nor attempt to board it.”
The smile remained, but something in her eyes was frozen. “In exchange, I will agree not to sink the ship. Your crewmen will be given the option to join my crew, rather than to be left out here to die a slow and miserable death.”
I shrugged. “Serving on your crew is already a slow and miserable death, I’m sure. Jaron will be sent over to you, and you will depart with him immediately. No one else.”
Strick gestured toward one of her men, a round-faced bulge of flesh who seemed to be built of rock embedded in mud. I immediately named him Lump. In turn, he lifted a long strip of wood with a lip on both sides to attach it to both ships.
“Prepare to be boarded,” Strick said.
Erick looked at me. “I can only give you an extra second or two, but you must take it.”
I started toward him. “No, don’t!” But it was too late.
Erick crossed directly in front of the gangplank, raising his sword. “Not one of you is getting on this ship while there is life left in me.”
Strick smiled again. “As you wish.” And with a wave of her hand, another arrow was fired, striking Erick directly in the chest. Time seemed to freeze as he gasped, dropped his sword, then fell to the ground.
I felt the hit as if I had taken it myself, and pain immediately filled me. In a panic, I knelt beside him, pressing my hand to the wound. I yelled to any pirate who might hear me, “Get a rag!”
But Erick put his hands over mine and lifted them from his chest. “Forgive me,” he said. “Forgive me … Sage.”
“Sage?” the captain echoed.
I looked up and saw that Strick had already crossed the gangplank and was crouched above us, listening in. “Is that your name, boy? Sage?”
Without a word I stood as she jumped to the deck, ordering two of her men who had followed her across, “Toss this body overboard. It’s depressing to see it.”
I pushed between them, shaking my head. “He deserves a proper burial.”
One of the men — a brute with a shock of red hair — shoved me aside, knocking me to the deck. “At sea, this is as proper a burial as he might get.”
“Will that be enough of a burial, when I’m finished with you?” I asked, earning myself a kick.
The other man lifted Erick’s body beneath the arms and began dragging him to the aft side of the deck while the captain walked forward, taking herself on a tour. I remained where I was.
“This is a pirate ship?” she asked. “Are you one of the pirates, Sage?”
“Yes.”
“You must forgive me for interrupting your pleasant evening.”
“I don’t forgive; I stab.”
“With this sword?” She snapped her fingers and a Prozarian I had not noticed before stepped forward, with my sword in his filthy hands, an insult I tolerated only because I had no other choice. “Do you claim this?”
“That’s a fine sword, but this does not mean Jaron is on this ship.”
“We traced him to Bymar a week ago. The port master we spoke to informed us this was the ship Prince Jaron is supposed to be on.”
“I know that port master. He’s older than these waters. I wouldn’t trust his word.”
“I trust every word given on one’s deathbed.”
A shudder ran through me. The port master was in good health when we left Bymar. If he was on his deathbed, it was because Captain Strick put him there.
She returned my sword to the filthy Prozarian, along with instructions to take it to her office. Then she pressed her lips together and stared at me. “You will produce Jaron on this deck in the next five seconds, or this ship will be boarded, searched, and then sunk.”
I let out a slow breath and closed my eyes, trying to prepare myself for whatever might happen next. She had killed Erick without flinching, so I had no doubt she would carry out these new threats. I stood and squared myself to her. “I’m Jaron. Take me.”
“No, I’m Jaron.” Roden raced up the stairs, sword in hand. “Take me.”
“No, I’m Jaron.” Tobias followed him exactly, except his sword was held upside down. “Take me.”
Strick lifted her hand, curling the fingers toward her. And one by one, Prozarians began crossing onto our ship.
A century ago, no army in the known world was more feared than the Prozarians. Their interest wasn’t occupation of any territory they conquered, but rather, they bled the land of its resources and wealth before abandoning it like ashes from a spent fire. Eventually, countries began to unite for their own defense, laying aside old grudges to target a common enemy. Over time, the Prozarians themselves became the spent fire, the topic of history books and stories shared by aging soldiers in dark taverns. By the time I was a child, nobody spoke of the Prozarians anymore.
I suspected that was about to change.
These next Prozarians to board our ship were heavily armed, and each carried a length of rope. I bolted for the quarterdeck but ran straight into a fist that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Behind me, Roden was keeping up a fair fight until we heard a cry from Tobias and saw a knife raised against him. For his sake, we had no choice but to give in.
Little mercy was shown in the way we were thrown against the side railing and searched for weapons. Our arms were yanked behind our backs as each of our hands were tied. The man behind me must’ve thought he was clever for double knotting my binds. I even told him so, though my compliment also came with commentary on his rancid breath that earned me a third hit. His work wasn’t so clever after all. He wasn’t halfway back to the captain before I was through the first knot.
“Search below,” the captain shouted, and my heart slammed into my throat.