Chase the Morning полностью

‘A very palpable hit!’ whooped Mall, as the dismayed Wolves swayed back an instant. Left weaponless, I snatched at his sword as it slithered over their pinioned shoulders and whacked at them with it; to my surprise I found it more manoeuvrable than the axe, and they gave back again. Our last man living reached the stair and ducked past us, and Mall and I backed slowly up, her sword defending the narrow way and mine faking it. But the moment we reached the top Mall ran, hauling me after her, and the long-delayed fusillade came whistling at our heels, striking splinters from the timbers as we bolted for the deck.

But it wasn’t going well there, at all. We emerged into thickening mists yellowed with powder smoke, and a fearful yelling furore, a wall of clashing figures surging this way and that. Out of it burst Jyp, and all but grabbed us as we slammed-to the hatch and dogged it down. ‘No more?’ he rasped, hoarse with shouting and smoke. ‘Okay, let’s get the lead out, let’s be movin’ –’

‘Where?’

‘Back to the brig, whaddya think?’

‘No!’ I yelled. ‘We found her, she’s there! Another few minutes – more men –’

‘Like hell!’ he yelled back. ‘We’re losin’em by the minute already!’

‘Listen, we’re bloody well not just leaving her –’

‘We can’t do anything else! See sense, Steve! We were holding this end t’give you folks below time, but we can’t last out! There’s just too goddam many of ’em, boiling out of every crack like cockroaches! Must’ve been packed in tighter’n a Portugee slaver!’

‘Pierce – the rescue party –’

‘They’re cutting loose that goddam mast! Now will you kindly –’ But I never got the choice. From out of the mists came a sudden roar and a single anguished shout of ‘They come!’, and then the line shattered suddenly into little struggling knots of men.

‘Hold together, Defiants!’ howled Jyp. ‘Don’t get encircled! Group, and cut your way to the side! Quick as you can! Damn the goddam torpedoes!’

Then the Wolves were on us too, and we were fighting for our lives. With only that enormous sword I might have been in trouble, but there was no room here for science, it was stick together and hack and slash with a vengeance at any Wolf that got in the way, yelling incoherent insults and spitting when those ran out. It took a century or so to reach that rail, and left us a pack of gorecrows, our blades and our limbs sticky with carrion. All along the side our men and women were spilling back to the Defiance, and we didn’t stand on ceremony but swung ourselves off that gloomy flank and back down with the rest. I didn’t see too clearly, the smoke maybe, but I think I was crying as my feet slapped back on our deck.

It wasn’t over, though. ‘That goddam mast –’ shouted Jyp.

‘Almost away!’ roared Pierce, as axes thumped into the tangle of cordage amidships. ‘All hands to fend off, and lively! All hands!’ Men were still leaping back off the Chorazin, while pistol shots cracked and whined above our heads, keeping the Wolves back from the rail. I saw the Stryge’s girl caught by one arm, turn and rake her nails across the Wolf’s ham features, leaving gouges that smoked like flung vitriol; she leaped free and landed lightly, running to the Stryge’s side, where Fynn already squatted in his human shape. Then there was a sudden explosive fizz and a sullen, thudding bang, and the broken mast, blown free, swung violently, tore through the Chorazin’s rigging and went crashing down in havoc on its deck. ‘Fend off!’ Pierce bellowed, and the crew rushed to the side and snatched up anything they could, from boathooks to handspikes and fallen muskets. I got one of the ten-foot gun rammers, and as Pierce shouted ‘Heave!’ we all strained against the black timbers above. Quite suddenly, with a rattle and crash of falling debris, they slid away, and the heavy mists leaped like spray between us, tinged suddenly with gold.

I stood there numbly watching it, forgetting the shouts and shots that still flew between us. But it wasn’t over yet. ‘Guns!’ yelled Jyp’s voice through the boiling mist. ‘To the guns, all hands! Load and run up, port and starboard both! We’ve got to keep ’em off!’ Before I knew it I was heaving on tackle with other smoky scarecrows, leaping aside as the gun came trundling back, and snatching up the rammer again, thankful I’d got some idea what to do watching them earlier. Thrusting those wads in was harder than it looked, but at last the shot was home, I plucked out the pole and threw my weight on the tackle with the rest as the gun ran up. From out in the fog came an echoing splash, and I saw the ghastly lanterns swing slowly around.

‘She’s cleared our spars, sir!’ shouted the mate, leaping down from the rigging. ‘Coming about –’

‘Port guns!’ shouted Pierce before he’d finished. ‘Fire as you bear!’