Dragon Choir by Benjamin Descovich

lanced
forward, grabbing Pelegrin’s sword arm at the wrist before his
blade could escape. The shankakin’s hand was a blur, striking at
Pelegrin’s elbow with furious precision. Crunching bones paired
with a strangled yelp as Delik twisted the crippled arm downwards
and kicked his foot high into Pelegrin’s groin. Pelegrin doubled
over, allowing Delik to smash his fist square into the Jandan’s
handsome face. Pelegrin reeled backwards in a stumbling
retreat.
    Elrin was
astonished at the speed and strength of the shankakin. Pelegrin
groaned, half hunched over, not sure whether to hold his groin or
his maimed sword arm.
    A shout went
up on the frigate and a whistle blew, summoning a blur of blue
uniforms to action. Marines lined the gunwale, training their
crossbows at Elrin and Delik. A unit charged down the gangplank to
the pier, swords drawn. Delik held his hands high, turning his back
to the rush of sabres.
    “ Put your clappers up, lad. Don’t try and run.”
    Elrin did as
Delik said, there was no other option; they were surrounded.
    “ Don’t kill them! These two will have our special treatment. I
want them myself. Throw them in the cells.” Pelegrin’s voice shook
with anger and obvious pain, blood fell from his broken nose. “Make
them ... comfortable.”
    Elrin and Delik were escorted up the gangplank onto the war
ship, swords at their backs. Joyless crewmen worked Juniper’s pristine
decks; whether indentured or enslaved, they were in need of a
decent meal. Given the marines guarding them, some must have traded
the slow rot of a prison sentence for trial by sea. Or, perhaps,
they were captured from pirate attacks and given a choice; serve or
die.
    The crew kept
their heads down and out of trouble, wary of the blue uniforms on
patrol. Elrin hoped he would have the same option. He needed a
convincing story or the dead letter would have him put in a box to
Calimska.
    Just before
the marines escorted them down the hatch into the bowels of the
frigate a scrawny bronze boy swabbing the deck tripped over his
bucket and knocked into Delik. They went down in a heap.
    Delik tried to
wriggle out of the boy’s tangle of arms and legs. “Get him off
me!”
    The marines
tossed the boy to the side and hauled Delik to his feet, forcing
him through the hatch. They were in no mind to delay, though one
had enough time to swing a brutal kick at the boy, knocking him in
the teeth before heading below. The boy got to his knees, flashing
a wink and a ragged smile.
    Elrin stepped
down through the hatch, rethinking trial by sea as a preferred
option.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Below
Deck
     
    It took a
moment for Elrin’s eyes to adjust to the sea of activity inside the
ship. Officers shouted orders to uniformed sailors and they, in
turn, barked at the crew. The crew rushed about accomplishing their
jobs as fast as possible. Those who disappointed the overseers were
struck with a thick knotted rope then shoved back to task.
    Their escort
handed Delik and Elrin over to a junior officer who had his men
bind their hands behind their backs. The rope was coarse and chafed
Elrin’s wrists. Comfort was a subjective experience and he was in
no mind to complain, lest they clamp him in irons as an
alternative. They were taken below another deck and past rows of
barrels, many marked with the same seal as those that nearly
exploded on the docks.
    Elrin was the
reason the ship was still afloat, he was the hero not the criminal.
Being an adventurer was a tricky business, the pitfalls of doing
good deeds were not apparent in the tales of his father’s exploits.
The bardic interpretation of adventure had glossed over the
injustice of punishment by association.
    It was all
just a simple misunderstanding. Surely if he explained his story to
Commodore Pelegrin, he would be let off. After all, Elrin hadn’t
attacked any Jandans, let alone their commanding officer and he had
nothing to do with Delik