Chapter VII

"It Keeps Getting Better and Better"

"You're not rowing fast enough!" Leena barked as she struggled to pull her oar through the water.

"And you're rowing the wrong way!" Glenn retorted angrily.

Leena threw up her arms in exasperation and turned her eyes toward the heavens. The blistering heat of the sun had given way to an ominous gathering of grey clouds and the wind had picked up. The calm that had settled upon the ocean earlier that day was rapidly being superseded by frothing waves that banked alongside the small wooden vessel, rocking the boat to and fro in a manner that was most unpleasant for its passengers.

"How long have we been at this?" Leena asked irritably.

"Too long," Glenn mumbled, "and there's no sign of land yet. How far did that pirate captain say Choras was?"

A flash of lightning streaked across the darkening horizon and the low rumble of thunder was building up in the distance. Leena groaned and abruptly covered her mouth to hide a barely concealed scream. A few feet away, slicing through the churning waters, a spotted dorsal fin cut ahead of the boat's bow and speedily sank beneath the waves. Glenn released his oar and looked at his companion questioningly. Her hand still cupped over her mouth, she rapidly pointed to the front of the vessel. He looked at the bubbling cauldron of salt water and arched an eyebrow at her. She stared at him in mute silence and after awhile, Glenn shrugged and returned to his rowing.

The fin again broke on the water's surface, taut and shimmering in the dull light. It zigzagged across the bow and submerged into the murky depths. Leena gave another yelp and Glenn shot her an annoyed glare.

"What now?" he asked impatiently. "Instead of sitting there looking pretty, why don't you pick up the oar and—"

He was cut off in mid-sentence as a large triangular snout rose from the water, bursting from the deep below. He quickly seized Leena's arm and pulled her toward him as a set of jaws, brimming with inch long teeth, descended upon the aft of the little boat. The wooden planks of the vessel gave way in the mouth of the Lion Shark with a series of resounding cracks. The ocean quickly poured in as the creature's heavy torso tilted the craft below the water line.

They looked on in terror as the shark systematically consumed their only means of buoyancy, its maw opening and closing with horrific rhythm and efficiency, pieces of wood snapping under the monstrous pressure being asserted. The cloudy grey eyes of the predator rolled inside their sockets, in all likelihood observing the two forthcoming entrees that remained backed up against the far end of the boat.

Glenn gritted his teeth and unsheathed the Einlanzer. "God, this keeps getting better and better," he muttered sarcastically.

Another bolt of lightning marked the evening sky and the deep roar of thunder followed close behind. Droplets of rain gradually commenced and within minutes, the drizzle had transformed into great sheets of moisture beating against the tumultuous waves. Leena gripped Glenn's arm tightly and struggled to maintain her footing as the surface steadily collapsed. She looked at the naked blade in his hand and gasped.

"You're not actually going to—"

"I don't know about you, but I have a thing against being eaten alive."

"As opposed to being dead before you're devoured?" Leena inquired flatly.

"Never mind! It's not like you're coming up with any brilliant ideas! Just stand back."

She quickly nodded and released her hold on Glenn. He cautiously advanced a few steps and deftly swung the sword. The steel edge struck the shark's snout and neatly sliced off the tip. Blood dribbled down its hide and the beast thrashed about in pain. It slowly began to slip away, the water around it taking on a pinkish hue, and soon vanished beneath the waves.

Glenn turned to his companion and flashed a cocky grin.

Suddenly, the Lion Shark reemerged and lurched forward into the vessel, no doubt eager for its supper, and redoubled its efforts to reduce the craft to splinters.

Glenn lost his balance and tumbled onto his rear, the Einlanzer falling from his hand and into the interior boat with a noisy clatter. The angle became increasingly severe and he began to slide toward the snapping jaws. He scrambled backwards on his hands and feet, but the incline compelled him to draw closer to the creature until he was but mere inches away from certain doom.

Leena seized the one remaining oar that hung limply over the side and clumsily stalked toward the shark, the salt water lapping at her ankles. She proceeded to beat the hideous fish on its wounded snout with the paddle, each blow producing a sickening wet thud and a light spray of red. She gradually realized that the strikes had no discernible effect on the voraciousness of the shark's assault and threw the makeshift club aside. Reaching into her pocket, she produced her dagger and slid it toward her prone travel companion.

"Gouge its eyes!" Leena hollered, "Remove them from their sockets if you can!"

The dagger skittered along the planks and, by the some miracle, Glenn managed to wrap one of his hands around the handle. The beast pitched forward and clambered closer, blood seeping uncontrollably from the gory mass of tissue that was once its muzzle. Glenn swiftly delivered a kick to the animal's upper row of teeth and jarred a few of the ivory razors loose. Seizing the small blade, he lunged audaciously toward the gaping maw and quickly rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the loss of his right foot. He adroitly plunged the tip of the dagger into the shark's eye and gave the handle a twist. There was an appalling pop followed by an explosion of red as the fragile orb gave way, causing the shark to furiously beat about in agony. Its heavy tail rose from the water and there was a sudden thud followed by a soft splash.

Leena observed in horror as Glenn was swept overboard and into the stormy ocean. The severity of the tempest had increased substantially and great, rolling waves tossed the helpless vessel about while the contest between the indefatigable creature and the boat's stalwart occupants continued. The Lion Shark squirmed violently, its great mass slowly slipping back into the depths. Sensing the beast's motive, Leena dashed to the Einlanzer and seized the heavy blade with both hands. Braving the elements and the distinct possibly of losing her life to the rapacious killer, she thrust the Dragon Sword into its throat, pulled the steel edge loose, and drove the point home again and again, causing great gouts of blood to well out from the wounds. Within moments the massive predator shuddered and laid still, the bulky carcass wallowing in an appalling crimson soup.

No sooner had Leena slipped the Einlanzer into her belt loop to search for Glenn than a massive wall of water rose from behind the sinking vessel and came crashing down upon the brittle wooden craft. The tremendous weight of the swell engulfed her and the remnants of the boat, leaving nothing behind but the dark roiling waves of an angry ocean.

* * * *

The staff officer tapped his foot impatiently and watched as a Sergeant Major scurried across the overpass, his halberd in tow and a scroll in his hand. The man skidded to a halt in front of the adjutant and quickly saluted him. The haggard looking NCO was covered in dirt and his uniform was soiled with sweat. The helmet that perched on his head was crooked and his tunic was nearly in tatters.

"Faster next time," the officer growled as he snatched the paper from his subordinate's grasp. "And make it a point to be in presentable dress in the future." He dismissed the Sergeant Major, straightened his cap, and marched through the wrought iron gates that led to the library.

Lieutenant General Crumm slowly ran his fingers across the book spines as he strolled along the carpeted walkway. He exhaled softly as he the scanned the titles that slipped by under his touch. The previous owner of the volumes had been a soldier to the core and the numerous tomes on military strategy and tactics were a testament of his devotion to the martial craft. The cavernous room that served as the library in Viper Manor had taken on a new role as a makeshift War Room for the commander of the Porre Expeditionary Force. Indeed, the palatial residence of the ex-Lord of El Nido had become the field headquarters from whence the army's operations would be directed.

Crumm had seen to it that the manor was left unharmed during the final assault. He had coveted the fortress-like structure for its commanding position and, in a fitting blow to the prestige of its once powerful master, as a grand trophy to mark his own proficiency as a soldier. He had had Viper's tapestries and insignia stripped from the marble walls of the manor as soon as his forces occupied the site. The man that caused him innumerable headaches and losses had, to his extreme aggravation, escaped from right under his nose, no doubt having fled with his top commanders to a safer location.

The gates to the entrance of the library opened with a clang, causing Crumm to frown in displeasure. The Colonel that stepped up to him clicked his heels smartly and gave a little bow. With the precision of an automaton, he snapped his right arm forward, a scroll in his gloved hand.

"Casualty reports, Sir!" he declared.

Crumm effused a sigh. "Read it out, Colonel. I'm in no mood to stare at numbers. How many this time around?" War without casualties was impossible. Casualties, however, meant lists and from these lists sprouted notes of condolences to the parents of the poor wretches that had naively picked up a rifle in search of adventure. The death did not faze him, but the mandatory signature of the commanding officer that needed to be on every letter annoyed him to no end.

"Tenth Division casualties consist of seven hundred and eighty three dead, including thirteen officers, and one thousand six hundred and nine wounded, including fifteen officers."

"And the enemy? What of theirs?"

"We're still tallying them up, Sir. Preliminary figures point to approximately four hundred dead, a thousand over wounded, and upwards of three to four thousand prisoners, including a badly injured senior commander."

Crumm looked at the officer quizzically and raised an eyebrow. "Senior commander?"

The adjutant nodded. "The surgeons don't expect that he'll live through the night, however. He was extremely fortunate to have survived for as long as he did on the battlefield—Sir."

"Inform the doctors to do everything in their power to keep him alive," Crumm said. "The man might be an asset but he's of no use to me dead. Do you understand?"

The Colonel saluted.

"Good. Now leave. And drop that list off in my office along with those damned notes."