Let my death come upon me with suddenness and speed, that I don’t see it coming. Unknown

Hiwot stood on the poop deck of the Fleur de Lis with a spyglass pressed against her left eye. Her attention was fastened onto the ship sailing off to the east of them with all sails against the prevailing southerly winds.

Akuchi stood on deck next to her, shifting uncomfortably in the clothes he had borrowed from Hiwot. He peered in the general direction Hiwot was pointing, but all he could see was the blue water extending in all directions.

Kwane Tendai, the third mate, also had a glass pointed in the same direction as the captain.

“What type of ship do you make it out to be, Mr Tendai?” Hiwot asked, collapsing her spyglass.

“The sails indicate another clipper ship, sir.”

“Good,” she encouraged. “Whose colours is she flying?”

“Unknown, sir.” Mr Tendai looked nervous, but he stood rigidly at attention. “I didn’t see any.”

Hiwot moved in close and stood a few centimetres from Mr Tendai’s face, a scowl on her face.

“Tell me, what type of ship does not fly colours?”

Mr Tendai’s eyes widened. “Pirates, sir.”

Hiwot moved away with a smile. “Very good, Kwane.”

Standing behind the helm wheel, she placed her hands behind her back and looked out over the ship. The master chief at the wheel looked at the nervous Mr Tendai. Out on the ship several crew members relaxed while tending to the nets and sails, talking amongst themselves quietly as they maintained the ship. Kwane paused, unsure. He looked at the captain who kept her eyes fixed to the bowsprit, waiting for Kwane to act.

“Master Chief,” Kwane called.

“Yes, sir.” The master chief turned to face the lieutenant keeping the ship’s wheel steady and on course.

“Battle stations.”

“Very good, sir” he replied to the lieutenant. “Battle stations!” he bellowed to the crew.

The call was repeated by the midshipmen standing at the ship's bell. He started ringing the bell nonstop, bellowing "battle stations!" The ship came alive with the cry as men poured out of the hatches, racing to their battle stations at the huge ballistae on and below deck. A boy dressed in black cotton trousers came up to the poop deck and handed the captain a longsword in a glittering scabbard made from fine silver. The handle, made from silvered steel, featured a filigree pattern of a dragon breathing the blade of the sword.

Hiwot smiled at the boy as he rushed on to his battle stations.

“I better go get my weapon,” Akuchi commented.

“I would like to see how you handle your weapon.” Hiwot grinned.

Akuchi ran down the steps to the quarter deck and then onto the main deck, sidestepping and dodging through the milling and moving men as they went about their business, preparing the ship for battle, their faces grim. Akuchi ducked down the hatchway and moved to his bunk and grabbed his weapon. A longsword had been assigned to him by the army during training, a straight longsword in a leather scabbard—this was to be his first time to use it in a real battle. He quickly attached it to his belt and took off the jacket, given to him by Hiwot. He opened a couple of the buttons on his shirt before turning around and heading back up the stairs and out of the main deck hatchway.

Arriving back on the poop deck, Akuchi spotted Hiwot looking through the telescope, flanked by two young men also looking through telescopes at the approaching ship. They were dressed the same as the third mate with only one difference; the one on the left had two full stripes on his arm and the other had two full stripes and a smaller one in between them. Hiwot lowered her telescope and turned facing Akuchi.

She smiled at him. “Gentlemen.”

The other officers turned.

“Akuchi, may I present my senior staff.” The one on the left was a head taller than Hiwot. He was young with a sharp nose and kind eyes and had a scar that ran along his high cheekbone. His skin was as dark as his deep brown eyes. Hiwot waved at him to with her hand. “Namusobia.”

Then she indicated to the man on the right. He was shorter than her, with dark black and wizened eyes and deep laugh lines. He seemed ancient. The whole effect was destroyed by his mop of red hair that sat atop his head. “Amukelani.”

Amukelani stepped forward and offered his hand to Akuchi, who shook it.

“Nice to meet you,” Amukelani said. The shock of his voice caught Akuchi. It was so deep that it sounded like it came from his feet.

Akuchi opened his mouth to say something but didn’t know whether to look at his face or his feet.

Amukelani’s face cracked into a smile causing all his wrinkles to line up, making him look decades younger.

“Please stop playing with my guest,” Hiwot sighed, looking through her glass at the ship fast approaching from the east. Amukelani dropped his grin as he dropped Akuchi’s hand. He turned back to join the other officers.

“It’s a full masted clipper ship, sir,” Namusobia commented.

“Yes,” she reflected. “Though still not running colours.”

“The weapon ports aren’t open either,” Amukelani said.

“That doesn’t mean they are friendly,” Namusobia returned.

“Just like not running colours don’t always mean pirates.”

“Could we signal them?” Kwane said from beside the ship’s wheel.

They all turned to him. The men frowned in displeasure, while Hiwot stroked her chin, and looked thoughtfully at Kwane.

“If we signal them and they don’t respond, we will know for certain that they are going to attack us,’” continued Kwane.

“Good job,” Hiwot approved. “Run up a standard greeting.”

“Yes, sir.” He saluted stiffly and called a midshipman to him. He instructed him to get the signaller, quickly. The officers waited as Kwane watched the seas ahead and the others watched the ship approach. The signaller arrived and Kwane gave him his instructions. He looked nervously at the captain, who ignored the whole process. When the captain didn’t interfere, he dashed off.

The standard greeting ran up the main mast and flapped in the southerly breeze. The senior officers watched patiently for a response from the oncoming ship. Then a new flag went up the flagpole—a plain black flag. Weapon ports opened and two rows of ballistae with heavy pointed spears moved out.

“Crews to the starboard hatches!” ordered Hiwot. The order was repeated down the ship. The sound of many feet going from the port to the starboard reverberated along the ship.

“Open the hatches and ready the ballistae,” she ordered when the sound died down. The order was transmitted down the ship followed by the creaking of ballistae and the opening of hatches on the starboard side of the ship.

“How far out are they?” asked Namusobia.

“We can’t attack them first,” said Amukelani.

“They have declared they are pirates,” said Hiwot. “It is our duty to protect the shipping lanes and destroy them.”

Neither officer argued with her.

“Test the range,” ordered Namusobia.

A man from the nearest crew saluted Namusobia and tied a rope to the end of the ballista. The crew of three fired off a single bolt. The bolt flew, dragging the rope with regular knots tied into it. The bolt flew straight out and splashed down, barely missing the oncoming ship – they were out of range. A moment of tense silence hung in the air. Everyone on the ship fixed their eyes on the pirate vessel just out of range. Hiwot turned to face down the ship and yelled, “Fire!”

The order was carried down the ship and as each ballista crew heard it, they pulled the trigger, sending a bolt flying into the pirate ship’s side. The full force of the forty-nine facing ballistae fired, sending their bolts screaming through the air into the pirate ship. Loud crashes resounded from across the water as the bolts impacted into the other ship’s hull, punching through and creating holes. Hiwot smiled to herself as she watched. With the first volley completed, the sounds of midshipmen and crews working to reload the ballistae could be heard from below deck.

“Lieutenant, go and coat some of the bolts with the fire oil,” Hiwot instructed. Kwane saluted and dashed from his post at the wheel.

“All crews report, ready to fire again,” reported Namusobia.

“Fire at will, Commander.”

“Fire at will!” shouted Namusobia. His order was relayed by the midshipmen and each ballistae crew fired when ready. The sounds of springs being released and bolts whistling through the air filled Akuchi’s ears. He watched as the two ships continued to creep closer to each other.

The pirate vessel took multiple hits from the ballistae. Each bolt crashed into the vessel, taking out its men. As they were pummelling the ship with repeated impacts, one crew had been hitting the same point repeatedly. After three hits they punched through the outer hull, creating a gaping hole. A cheer went up when the pirate ship’s hull was breached. The nearest crews started to fire through the gap, tearing the hole wider, killing dozens of men on the pirate ship. As the ships drew closer together, a new sound could be heard from the pirate ship: screaming. The sound was faint at first but became stronger as the ballistae broke through the hull. Through the hole, Akuchi saw men and women standing in rows, chained together.

“Captain.” Akuchi pointed. “They are a slave ship.”

“So?” Namusobia said. “They are less than pirates and we are sinking the pirates.”

“Captain, slaves are people too,” Akuchi insisted. “They don’t deserve to die.”

Hiwot followed his gaze and saw the slaves inside the ship. “Damn,” she cursed, “we will have to do this the hard way. Ceasefire.”

The order was bellowed and repeated by the midshipmen. All ballistae stopped. The sounds of screams could be heard clearly across the intervening water.

“Prepare to board,” called out Amukelani. This order was repeated by the midshipmen as the crews went about collecting their weapons. Across the water on the pirate ship, Akuchi could make out the soldiers on board. Each one was dressed differently; they had an assortment of weapons and armour from heavy chain mail to light cloth. Those without armour had their bodies decorated with war paint. The pirates were lining the top of the ship, waving weapons at them and snarling.

Grappling hooks flew over the gap between the ships, dragging them closer together. One landed right in front of Hiwot. Akuchi stepped forward and cut the rope with a swift slash of his longsword. A cheer went up from the pirate ship as the ships slammed into each other with a loud crash. The impact caused Akuchi to stumble.

They ran out a plank and started sending men across it. The first ran down the plank, grinning, his eyes wild. A sailor grabbed the plank stretching between the two ships and reefed it, suddenly twisting the plank and dropping the pirate into the water. Laughter erupted from the crew of the Fleur de Lis. More planks appeared from the pirate ship. Soon they all had men streaming across them. A pirate swung on a rope tied to the ship’s mizzen mast and landed squarely on the quarter deck. He was quickly skewered by Namusobia’s rapier. Blood bubbled into his mouth as he died. The sounds of steel on steel rang out as more and more men poured onto the Fleur de Lis.

A man grinning savagely, waving a cutlass, charged up the steps that led to the poop deck and had his head cut off by a single strike by Hiwot’s longsword. The sword easily cut through flesh and bone. A cheer went up from the forecastle as the sailor and marines pushed the pirates back. They poured down the stairs and into the heated fray on the main deck.

The sounds of shrieking metal on metal drew Akuchi’s attention. A man dressed in full plate armour stepped onto the planks from the pirate ship. The light caught the glistening armour and stung his eyes. The man in armour slowly advanced along the stiff plank.

“By the great host of heaven,” Hiwot swore, “What madman would wear all that armour to board a ship?”

They both stared at the armoured man as he made his way across the plank. Fighting died down on the quarter deck as the pirates were dispatched. The armoured warrior jumped on to the main deck. The boom of his impact on the timbers stopped all fighting. Everyone watched as he drew his weapon from behind his back, a huge two-handed battle axe. He started swinging it with reckless abandon, smiting friends and foes alike.

The armoured warrior stepped forward and swung the axe in a two-handed swing, taking the head off a sailor. Blood spurted onto the men behind him. He brought the axe forward into a lunge as he stepped forward. Bringing his axe down, he brought it forward and hit the man in front of him with the handle. The man fell back, landing on his back. A sailor took a swing at him with his curved sword. His attack bounced off his armour. The armoured warrior took no notice and stepped forward and uppercut another sailor, cleaving him from navel to chin. The remains of the dead sailor crumpled to the ground, pooling blood over the deck. The pirates stepped behind the armoured warrior, their grinning faces mocked the sailors as they were cut down by the armoured warrior. He took another step forward and brought down his axe. The sailor blocked with his sword but took a foot to the gut from the warrior’s armoured foot. The sailor buckled under the pressure and rolled aside. The armoured warrior ignored him and stepped forward again.

“I have never seen anyone fight like that,” said Akuchi.

“It’s fire stance,” Hiwot said. “A deadly fighting style but also very costly. A warrior that fights like that wants to die by the sword.”

“What do you mean?” asked Akuchi.

“It is a fighting style in which the warrior who uses it cuts down all others and ignores weak fighters.”

“So, he will only go after the strongest fighter on the field?”

“Yes.” Hiwot sighed. “Which means he will come after me.”

She raised her sword and stepped past the ship’s wheel and headed to the stairs towards the quarter deck. She came across a sailor on the quarter-deck who had a crossbow aimed at the warrior and was looking down the shaft of the bolt.

“Sailor, aim for the arms!” Hiwot commanded.

The sailor silently pulled the trigger and the bolt flew. It whistled through the air, hitting the chink in the arms and punched through the chainmail’s joint. The bolt passed through with such force that it cut through the bone of the warrior’s arm, remaining embedded.

“Good shot, man,” she praised the sailor. “Keep aiming for the joints in the armour.”

“Yes, sir,” he grinned and reloaded the crossbow.

Hiwot reached the stairs to the main deck. “Back away!” she bellowed. The sailors turned, saw her, and retreated from the main deck. They crowded up the stairs to the forecastle while others set to the quarter-deck, leaving only the armoured warrior and several pirates remaining. Several bolts flew from the quarter deck and the forecastle, killing off the remaining pirates.

Only the armoured warrior remained.

“You run away like children.” The sound of his voice echoing and resonating across the ship.

“Do you seek an honourable death by combat?” Hiwot returned.

“I seek blood and fire.”

“Blood and fire are not present here for you.”

The warrior turned to face his challenger. He raised his arm at her and pointed with his axe in hand. “You defy me!”

“I defy anyone who comes aboard my ship without my permission, I am the captain of this ship, I am its protector.” A cheer went up from the sailors. Another bolt flew out from the quarter deck and punched through the chainmail under the warrior’s arm. A grinding, splintering sound echoed across the ship, silencing the crew. A loud ring followed as the bolt impacted with the shoulder plate on the other side of the arm. The warrior dropped his weapon and with both arms now crippled, he went down to his knees and lowered his head in submission.

“You have been felled, warrior.” Hiwot stepped down on to the main deck. She stood before the warrior and with her foot pushed the warrior back. The extra weight brought him to the ground. She stepped over him and yanked off his helmet.

Underneath a green, wart-covered face confronted her, and a mouth with two small tusks protruding from it. The eyes, a hollow yellow, stared back at her. The creature had two black teeth protruding from the front of his mouth, preventing him from closing it properly. Without cringing, Hiwot looked down at the ugly tortured soul and felt pity rise in her throat.

“You, orc, have fought valiantly; I give you death by sword, your reward.”

“Thank you,” the orc wept, “I go to Plith and the final resting place with honour.”

Hiwot raised her sword and aimed it above his exposed throat.

“I send this soul to the land of fire and blood. I grant him passage to the final resting place of his kind.” She thrust the sword into his mouth and out the back of its head, embedding it into the wood. The orc's death was swift; sailors gathered around their skilled captain. Hiwot left her sword standing in the deck.

A sailor presented his sword to her.

“Now, men, let us go and free those slaves!” she shouted.

The men gave a cheer and ran across the planks into the pirate ship, Hiwot leading the charge.