The Dragon-Child Read Online Free Page B

all his outward appearance of firm command, the Captain was afraid. He did not know what steps he should take.
    “He’s a King ,” Gruum hissed.
    “That pale devil?”
    “Yes. Imagine the ransom!”
    Bolo stared back, more uncertain than ever. But then the crossbows were ready. “He mocks me on my own ship’s deck. He has cursed this vessel and all who sail upon her. His spirits shred the sails further with each day we travel toward the ends of the Earth. I must get him off my ship.”
    Bolo waved to the three crewmen with crossbows. They snapped bolts up into the rigging. For a moment, there was no reaction, then a body sailed down out of the night above. It thumped down on the deck, like a slab of meat dropped by a butcher.
    The men gathered around the corpse. A crossbow bolt sprouted from the man’s back.
    “I know that headscarf,” said one of them. They rolled the man over, so his face could be seen. The cabin boy held up a lantern.
    “It’s Abaras. We shot Abaras.”
    “No,” said Bolo, kneeling and closing the eyes with his fingers. “The corpse is cold. It has been dead, perhaps for hours. Look at the sunken face. The sorcerer has consumed him.”
    Bolo straightened again. His face was full of cold fury. Every glittering eye watched him closely.
    “I will not have this devil on my ship for one minute more,” he said. He placed the tip of his cutlass at the cabin boy’s throat. “You helped this monster up into the rigging. You are a traitor, and Abaras’ blood is on your head. You are the sorcerer’s creature.”
    The cabin boy’s eyes were impossibly wide. By the light of the flickering lantern he held, and the strange, eldritch light coming from the wind spirits that floated above, everyone watched the tip of Bolo’s sword.
    A second resounding thump struck the deck boards. This time, however, the man who fell landed on his feet. Everyone heard the jingling of the man’s chainmail shirt. He stepped forward into the circle of yellow light. Therian’s face was recognized by everyone, but tonight it held a new vigor and intensity of aspect. In each hand a sword flashed. Therian held his blades low, but ready. He approached the group slowly, watchfully.
    “Do not slay the boy on my account,” he said softly.
    Bolo kept the tip of his cutlass on the cabin boy’s throat. “You must leave my ship. You and this monkey of a man who serves you,” he said, indicating Gruum with a crooked finger.
    “Wait another dozen hours,” said Therian calmly. “We should reach our port by then.”
    Bolo looked down at the dead, slack face of Abaras. His lips pulled away from his face. “Why? Will that be time enough for you to slay us all?”
    “If need be,” said Therian. The shining blades of his twin swords twitched upward. The crewmen who circled around regripped their weapons in response.
    Bolo made his decision then. Gruum could see it in his eyes. So could everyone aboard the Innsmouth . He raised his cutlass and smashed it down upon the cabin boy’s upturned face. The boy’s angled teeth were broken, his face bled freely. He fell to his knees, choking. Quickly, the lad slumped on the deck.
    Bolo then turned his attention back to Gruum. “Throw the sorcerer’s monkey overboard. You may join him, devil-king, or you may die on my decks.”
    “You have chosen an unwise path,” said Therian in a cold voice.
    Gruum saw little of the fight that followed. Blades flashed and flickered. Men growled and screamed. Therian backed to the rails and held Succor high to catch the weapons that slashed out to taste his flesh. He kept Seeker in a low grip, and snaked it outward with blinding speed when the body of a sailor came within reach. It dipped into the thigh of a man who shuffled close. The man had been quaking with fear and snarling all at the same time. The snarling turned to howls of agony. Another man with a boathook sought to catch Therian with the tip of his weapon. Instead, his weapon was caught