CHAPTER TEN

Imoen watched the black storm clouds appear with a crackle, above the pursuing ships. Nervously, she felt the harsh winds pick up their pace. She found it difficult to stand on the swaying deck as the waves of the sea became more and more choppy. Whatever effect the storm was having on their ship was much worse for the pirates, however. Gorion's insistent incantations were driving the storm to harsher actions. Lightning, hail, rain, wind – it all lashed down against the pursuers. One mast was struck by lightning, tumbling in a burst of flame to crash into the sea. The other ships however, must have had their own wizards for the lightning bounced off magical shields with a cascade of broken light.

Five ships left and they had nearly caught them. For the past two days, they had tried every spell, every trick they could to lose the pirates. Magical mists, summoned sea monsters, storms, friendly winds, air elementals, everything. But what Gorion or Imoen could do, the five wizards with the pirates could do. Perhaps not quite as well - but well enough. Two ships moved wide to the sides of their ship, intending to cut them off. Two others began slowing, ready to move next to them for boarding. The other picked up speed, obviously intending to ram them.

Gorion turned to address the sailors and the companions. "They will swarm over us in moments. We can't repulse them, so we have to fight them as best as we can. That means you," he turned to Kivan, "and Daniel taking position in the crow's nest to shoot any wizards you can see and any archers."

He nodded as the two moved, ascending the rope ladder. "The rest of you, gather in a circle around the mast. Imoen and I will stand in the centre of the circle where we can use our magic to tip the balance. It is imperative you fight hard. If anyone breaks through, we will be as defenceless as a child, as we cast."

There was a moment's stillness. The pirates' ships were very close now. They were battered, charred and damaged from the storms and magical onslaughts sent by Gorion and Imoen, but still they moved fast. Imoen saw pirates moving up into the masts and rigging, nocking arrows. The rest, with crude weapons and grappling hooks, were preparing to attack as soon as they came close enough.

"Get into positions! Now!" Gorion barked as he dragged Imoen to stand next to the mast with him. "Fireball, Imoen! Set as much fire against them as you can!"

The reason for his insistence became clear immediately. The ships that had spun wide to cut them off were now attaching ropes to the two ships off the port and starboard. They were providing a bridge for all the pirates from all the ships to move on. It meant five ship's worth of warriors would soon be submerging a small crew. A clever tactic, whose only weakness was the difficulty for the pirate ships to disengage if they needed to.

Imoen planted her feet a span apart and spun her fingers into gestures. Sulphur and guano clenched in her fists, she spat out the incantation and watched as one fireball, hissing through the air, launched towards one ship. Gorion had chosen the same ship and two fireballs followed hers. A flash of light and two of the fireballs were countered. One however, exploded on the deck of one ship. Pirates screamed as they were burned to ash in an instant. Fire started to flicker at a few places, but nothing dangerous.

Frowning, Gorion mumbled, "They must have warded these ships against fire before they tied them together. Very clever." He sighed then and murmured, "As many spells as you can cast, Imoen. And quickly."

He wasted no more time. From his fingers stole a small white-and-grey gathering of light. It touched one pirate and fragmented, wisps of energy touching perhaps ten more. With muffled groans, eleven pirates collapsed to the ground, dead. The response from the pirate wizards was lethal. Five lightning bolts from five different directions shrieked towards them. It was Gorion's smirk that told Imoen they were safe. He uttered one word – perhaps unleashing a contingency – and a silver-sparkling spell-shield moved to protect the small circle. There was a sound of potent magic – like a bell – and a flare of impossibly bright light. When her vision cleared, all five lightning bolts had vanished.

"Imoen! You're getting distracted!"

Gorion's words spurred her into action. When she had fought alongside Reina, she had used her spells instinctively in battles larger than this. Her year of fighting assassins had made her more used to smaller engagements. She straightened however and pointed. Her instincts were coming back to her. Two shouted words later, a blast of swirling blue lightning crackled towards the now-charging pirates. The lightning hit two, who died instantly in a sparkle of light. However, lethal as it had ever been, the chain lightning began to leap from pirate to pirate. Like some angry predator, tearing through defenceless animals.

She was prepared then, for the response from two wizards she saw. They began to chant, but rather than try to counter what they did, she unleashed a trigger she had almost forgotten about. A flurry of pink missiles hit one, till he collapsed. The other mage – apparently fairly weak – was distracted by the death of his ally and halted for but three seconds.

Those three seconds were long enough for Imoen. She first spat a few words and sent five more missiles against the mage. It distracted his second attempt at a spell, and by the time he had started another, a lightning bolt was ripping through the air. Knowing he was dead, Imoen turned to find other targets, ignoring his screams.

Above them, Kivan and Daniel were lending their arrows to the fight. Even as pirates were clambering across the ships to clear the distance, some fell, their skulls pierced by arrows. Although the pirates were trying to shoot the two rangers down from the mast, they continued to miss. With elven speed and accuracy, Kivan was shooting almost an arrow every five seconds. Daniel's shooting was slightly slower, but no less accurate for it.

Arianna clenched her fist and bellowed, "May the Divine Right protect us!"

A tower of flame burst into being, burning three pirates at once. When the flame faded, three figures of black, melted ashes were partially fused together. Then, the rest of the attacking pirates had reached the defensive circle. Imoen watched as Marius bellowed, "Mystra guide my blade!" and with a powerful swing of his longsword, split a foe's head. Elenora was spinning about with a short-sword and dirk, leaping out from the defensive circle. Her movements, wide, eccentric and fast would have been restricted in the circle. On the deck however, she was unstoppable.

Imoen shook herself back into awareness and now sent her lesser magics to aid the crew and her companions. Pirates who were about to break through found themselves assaulted by lightning, fire or acid. Any pirates clumped together and far enough away could find their lives stripped away by death magic. One brute of a pirate, wearing tattered trousers, and studded with many piercings, managed to move behind Elenora and was about to stab her when a great, white hand appeared around him, squeezing. Blood spurted as he died, crushed into pulp.

Imoen turned now, to aid her foster-father. Gorion was bleeding from some small wounds, inflicted by magic. Three pirate mages were sending their spells against him. With a growl of frustration, Imoen sent a gust of powerful wind tearing towards them. Two of them were bowled over. The other held onto the rope of the rigging. Gorion gave one small smile to Imoen before sending his magic to take advantage of the distraction. A cascade of rainbow colours shivered across the boat, wreaking devastation amongst the common pirates and mages alike. Some disintegrated, some burst into flames, others just died. Two of the mages, those lying on the ground, died instantly. The last mage took several minutes to die, batting flames ineffectually as he screamed.

Yet despite the victories, they were taking losses. Many of the crew were dead. In fact, as Gorion turned to cast a spell into the fray, Imoen saw three pirates force their way past the defensive circle. Their blades were out, ready to murder her foster-father. With a loud cry, Imoen tore her coat-like robe from her shoulders, revealing her glistening elven chain mail. Her legs tensed as she cleared the distance in an instant, drawing her magical short sword as she did so. A sound like a laugh escaped her lips as she brought the blade to intercept the attack against Gorion.

The pirates were surprised by the sudden transition from mage to warrior. Imoen found herself grinning as she kicked out at one of the pirates, batting aside his sabre before slashing the arteries in his neck. The other two diverted their attacks from Gorion to Imoen in an instant. The young mage smiled however, stepped back and a lightning bolt, screaming, claimed both their lives.

Gorion turned, his eyes surprised, but wasted no time in asking questions as he continued casting his magic. Imoen now leaped into the fray. When she had travelled with Reina, she had been valued mainly for her spells, but when the fighting grew tough she had drawn the short sword and lent her small skill as a rogue to the fray. And that was what she did now, combining magic and an above average skill with the blade into a lethal combination.

Oh, against the terrible foes they had all faced latterly – fire giants, vampires and drow – Imoen's skill was nothing, a babe against a god. But against crudely-trained pirates, she had skill enough with the blade for what she had to do. Imoen thrust her blade through the stomach of one pirate. He gurgled, before collapsing to the ground, his slimy worm-like entrails leaking across the deck of the ship. With so many dead by magic, blade and bow, the deck was slippery and dangerous.

Abruptly, the tide of battle shifted.

Faced by the spells of two archmages, the skilful blades of Harpers and sailors, the pirates knew they had chosen a prey that was out of their depth. With cries for mercy, the pirates began dropping their blades, surrendering. Imoen breathed out heavily, and looked about at the carnage.

Bodies were everywhere, the majority of them pirates, enough of them made up of the masked crew-members. Elenora was leaning against the mast, bleeding heavily. Arianna was crouching over her, chanting spells of healing. From the amount of blood around the white-and-blue clad rogue, the priestess had healed her in the nick of time. The rest of them were panting, covered in blood and sweat.

It had been a tough battle. And a battle too costly in the lives of the crew.

Imoen shook her head with a sigh.

They had freed the slaves from the pirate ships and the small merchant vessel had swiftly become overcrowded. Every ounce of food and water from the pirate vessels had been commandeered at the request of Gorion. Then, the pirates had been disarmed and escorted back to their ships, where they were told they could go free. It was perhaps a cruel thing to do, because without food they could not travel farm and without slaves they might not even be able to travel at all. But no-one voiced any disagreement. Justice was deserved, for the brutality the slaves had suffered and for the murder the pirates had done on the high seas.

Imoen found it difficult to look at the slaves. They were all, to a man, glad to be released and had pledged to her service with gratitude. Even when they had been told she was a Bhaalspawn, their oaths of fealty had not been rescinded. Many of them were from Murann, Amnians who saw in Imoen a chance to return to their land. She had not spoken about their quest, nor had any of the crew or the companions, so they were not influenced by that. They were influenced merely by their deep desire for freedom from slavery. Arianna had healed most of their ills, so most were healthy enough to aid with sailing the boat.

Gorion stood alongside her, as the merchant vessel resumed its trek. He murmured, "The first members of your army, Imoen." He watched her calmly. "To be a Bhaalspawn is more than just grappling with the blood of your father. It gives you status, it gives you power. Power that can be used for good as well as evil. These men and women, they have given you their fealty, because of you. I know you are uncomfortable with it, but you must get used to it. The Four have massive armies. The only way we can hope to beat them, is we gather our own army."

She wrinkled her nose, "I thought we were here to find a sword for an Amnian king. And it is he who will lead the army."

The old mage shook his head, "No, he is but one arrow to our bow. An Amnian army marching against the ogre magi and the Four is necessary. But so to is your own army. An army led by Imoen, aided by the Harpers, seeking freedom from war and oppression. That is what we must work for, as well as seeking this lost blade."

Imoen shook her head, "No, father. I refuse that. I am not a leader, and only accepted their vows of fealty so that when we find this king, they can aid him. Then, I shall offer my spells to that king so the Four can be defeated. I will not lead my own army."

Gorion placed his hand on her shoulder, "I understand how you feel, my child. But do not rule it out. Destiny has a way of forcing our hand. You may in time be needed to lead, to march at the head of a thousand warriors or more. And if that is so, then we need you to do so with vigour, not with doubts and worries."

She sighed, and murmured a vague agreement.

In her heart however, she did not agree. For in the battle against the pirates, she had felt Bhaal's voice stir powerfully. And she was terrified as to what would happen should she ever lead thousands into battle. Gazing into the sea waters stained with the blood of the dead, Imoen shuddered. Would she even survive long enough to worry on such matters? Watching the blood scatter into the sea, into the dark and frigid depths, she wondered whether her life, her hopes, would soon be like that. Like droplets of blood fading into blackness.

And the ship continued on its way towards destiny.