The Affinity IV (standard:adventure, 2692 words)
Author: Ian Hobson	Added: Nov 23 2008	Views/Reads: 3691/2271	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
If you missed the earlier episodes of The Affinity, the story starts here: http://www.nicestories.com/unreg/s/story.php?id=8387

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on his own blood, just as another, much larger, man came at me with his 
sword raised above his head.  As his blade fell towards me I blocked it 
with my own sword, kicked the man in the groin and then, as his head 
came towards mine, I pivoted and smashed my right elbow into his face, 
immediately stepping away to clear my sword and hack down into the back 
of his neck. 

Two down; so far this was child's play.  Glancing to my right I saw
Miglio tackling his first opponent: a young sailor, skinny, but half a 
head taller.  He was armed with a cutlass, but little skill by the look 
of him because, as I turned to watch, Miglio reversed a two-handed 
parry and sliced open the lad's chest, making him scream as he 
staggered backwards.  Sensing danger to myself, I turned with sword 
raised, to find myself facing a tall man wearing skin-tight breeches 
and a blood-spattered white shirt. 

It was Skrull, the privateer captain, and he was armed with a sword, of
a similar size and weight to my own, but also with a length of knotted 
rope which he swung at my head in a move designed to distract me from 
the sword thrust that followed.  I ducked and parried in one movement 
and, as the rope end swung towards my head a second time, I snatched it 
from the air with my left hand and tried to heave Skrull's unprotected 
chest forward onto my own blade.  He cursed as he let go of the rope, 
and then, taking his sword in two hands, he swung it in an arc towards 
my head.  Wearing no armour, he was fast and forceful, but I was not 
slow to block his move. 

Again our swords clashed, and his eyes told me that he was not
accustomed to fighting with someone who could match his height and 
strength.  All around us there was the sound of clashing steel, 
accompanied by grunts and yells of pain as weapons struck home, but 
whichever side was winning was not my concern, as the two of us circled 
each other, thrusting and parrying. 

'You fight like a woman!'  Skull spat the words at me as though they
were stones shot from a sling. 

'How many have you fought?' I asked, countering his insult and driving
him back across the deck that was now becoming slippery with spilled 
blood.  I had manoeuvred him into a position where he was facing his 
own ship and better able to judge how the battle was going, if he was 
foolish enough to look.  He was, and as he risked a worried glance over 
my shoulder, I thrust at him and felt the tip of my sword pierce his 
chest.  He let out no cry of pain, but anger flared in his eyes, 
turning them into pools of molten rage, and he came at me swinging his 
sword as though I was his most bitter enemy. 

Anger is useful sometimes, but not when it clouds your judgement, as was
happening to Skrull.  Again he swung his sword in a downward arc 
towards my head, but with a force and speed designed to overcome any 
blocking move.  So, as his sword fell like an axe, I sprang clear and 
then stepped forward again, placing my booted right foot on the blade 
as it hit the deck and swinging my own blade above his arms and 
straight at his throat.  I would probably have taken his head off, had 
he not let go of his sword and leapt backwards, colliding with a 
wounded sailor escaping the melee, and crashing onto the deck. 

Now I risked a glance around me and was glad to see that we were winning
the fight.  I turned back to face Captain Skrull.  He was mine now and 
would surely surrender, or so I thought but, as he got to his feet, the 
two ships, still locked together, shuddered as though struck by a huge 
wave, knocking us both to the deck; and as I looked around I saw that 
the same had happened to almost everyone on board and that the fighting 
had all but stopped. 

9 – The Kraken 

The Kerree's deck began to tilt and the sound of straining timbers
became almost deafening; but above that sound I clearly heard a 
panic-stricken scream.  I thought at first that it was Skrull but then 
saw that the wounded sailor who had collided with him was being lifted 
clear of the deck and over the side by a huge tentacular arm almost as 
thick and as long as one of the ship's masts.  Again the two ships 
shuddered, as though hit by a wave, and then a second huge tentacle 
came up over the side and slammed down onto the deck, fracturing its 
timbers and tilting the ship further, pulling the port rail below the 
surface of the sea, and filling the air with a fish-like stink. 

Skrull was crawling towards me, slipping in saltwater mixed with blood
and, rather than let the sea-monster have him, I scrambled forward to 
try and drag him clear.  But as his hand clasped mine another 
foul-smelling tentacle came over the side, its tip seeking us out as 
though it could see or smell us, and it wrapped itself around Skrull's 
middle, pulling him from my grasp and lifting him into the air.  He 
kicked and struggled and somehow produced a knife which he sunk, 
several times, into the monstrous appendage, but his reward for this 
was a terrible death as he was slammed, again and again, onto the deck 
and his body broken as though it was no more than a bundle of twigs.  
Horrified, I raised my sword and was ready to hack at the huge 
tentacle, but the deck rolled under me and I began to slide towards the 
sea. 

'Lord Astavar!'  As a rope end hit the deck beside me, I grabbed for it.
 Doran, the First Mate, had thrown the rope, but with one arm hooked 
around the starboard rail, he was unable to haul me clear.  I sheathed 
my sword and pulled myself, hand over hand, towards him, while 
searching the deck for Miglio. 

'Where is my servant?' I shouted.  'And your captain?' I added, as I
could see neither of them.  What I could see, was that the fight 
between the ships' crews was over, and that surviving sailors from both 
were clambering, in panic, across the narrow gap between the two 
vessels, some of them hacking at the ropes that bound the ships 
together. 

'The captain is dead!' Doran shouted back.  'Killed by Skrull before he
came after you!  Your servant went below for the girl!' He nodded his 
head towards an open hatchway that was barely clear of the rising 
seawater.  The ship rocked beneath my feet again as the sea monster's 
tentacles searched for more victims and as the last of the ropes were 
severed.  As I reached the starboard rail and took hold of it, Doran 
shouted, 'We must abandon ship!  Your servant is lost!'  And with that, 
he scrambled up and leapt across the widening gap between the two 
ships, almost falling into the water.  A fellow seaman helped him climb 
up over the port rail of the privateer, and then each of them held a 
hand out towards me, expecting me to jump. 

'Wait!' I still held the rope with which Doran had rescued me and,
ignoring the beckoning hands, I made my way, clumsily, along the side 
of the ship, secured one end of the rope, and lowered myself across the 
canted deck towards the hatchway, where I shouted for Miglio and 
Layana.  Under the sea monster's onslaught, the Kerree was clearly in 
danger of sinking, and an incoming wave washed around my legs and 
cascaded down the steps where, to my relief, Layana appeared with 
Miglio behind her.  The two of them struggled to climb towards me, but 
as soon as they were within reach, I hauled them through the hatchway, 
urging them to take hold of the rope and climb the sloping deck. 

'What is that thing?'  Layana screamed, as she stared past me with a
look of horror on her face.  I glanced over my shoulder and saw that 
the beast was now probing the deck with five of its tentacles.  Three 
of them had found dead or wounded sailors, while another was wrapping 
itself around the foremast. 

'A Kraken!'  I replied.  'It seems to be drawn to the smell of blood!' 

Layana shot a worried glanced at her brother whose eyes shone with a
look of fear mixed with excitement.  I had thought him unharmed, but 
noticed then, the gash in his left leg.  'It is nothing master,' he 
said, grinning.  'Move, Layana!'  He hurried his sister by pulling on 
the rope and forcing her to climb ahead of him while I, with one hand, 
loosened the straps that held on my breastplate and shrugged it off 
before following.  But as the two of them reached the starboard rail, 
the ship rolled slowly onto its side, and its two masts, laden with 
flapping sails, came crashing down into the sea.  Somehow I hung on to 
the rope while, above me, Layana and Miglio dangled precariously from 
the rail and, below me, the water raged with air escaping from within 
the vessel. 

'Climb!' I shouted.  'Climb!'  I watched as, above my head, Miglio swung
his legs up and clambered onto the side of the ship, before reaching 
down and helping his sister to do the same.  I felt the touch of one of 
the kraken's tentacles then, as it came up from the foaming water and 
brushed against my ankle.  That gave me the impetus that I needed, and 
I hauled myself up the rope, climbing like an ape, though thankful for 
the hands that grasped my hair and the collar of my tunic.  But no 
sooner had I scrambled up beside Layana and Miglio, than the kraken's 
limb was amongst us. 

Layana was knocked backwards and tumbled towards the keel and into the
sea.  Then I saw a flash of steel as Miglio's knife slashed wildly, 
but, remembering what had happened to Captain Skrull, I found my feet 
and pushed the boy roughly away.  'Leave it to me!  Follow Layana!' 

‘I can't swim!' he yelled, as he tumbled into the water. 

‘Then, now is the time to learn!'  I drew my sword, kissed the blade,
and as the tentacle searched for a victim, no doubt attracted by 
Miglio's bloody wound, I swung the blade in a downward arc and cut 
through its breadth in one stroke. 

As a flow of slimy blood sprayed down the ship's side, the vessel gave
one last shudder and, perhaps only in my imagination, the kraken let 
out a scream of pain.  Ignoring the severed limb that writhed at my 
feet, I sheathed my sword, dived headlong into the water, and swam for 
my life while, behind me, the sea gurgled and foamed as the Kerree, in 
its last death throws, sank below the waves.  Weighed down by my sword 
and mail, I was struggling to keep my head above the surface and, as a 
wave rolled over me, I felt that I would be sucked under.  Images 
flashed before my eyes then; faces from my past; others that I did not 
recognise and yet, somehow, I knew them: a young woman, and then a 
little girl, at first running towards me, and then being pulled away in 
a whirlwind of autumn leaves.  Is this where I meet my death? I 
wondered.  Have the gods finally deserted me? 

TO BE CONTINUED 


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