Days passed, more interrogating preceded each meal they were given, and although he didn't volunteer the information, Rodney continued to tell Te'Lan about anything he wanted to know, such as weapons, ships, and even the system of Stargates like the one that orbited their world; none of it was beyond the scope of his curiosity. Carson remained silent as he watched and listened, helpless to stop the pirate captain from using him to threaten Rodney for whatever information he desired. The crew had even stopped locking the door to the bilge where they slept; there was no point to it. Where could they possibly escape to in the middle of the ocean?
It was late in the morning on their fourth day out of port when they were awakened by the sound of raucous laughter above on the main deck, but no one stood in the entrance waiting to haul them to their feet, nor was anyone preparing to punish or abuse them. A tough hunk of stale bread and a pitcher of water had been left for them for breakfast, and no demands or threats had been made. They ate and drank as quickly as their stomachs would accept the meager meal, and only then risked leaving the relative safety of their makeshift sleeping quarters.
Carson slowly peeked around the corner that led up and out onto the main deck and was surprised by what he saw. Literally hundreds of ships dotted the waters around them, sails furled at stationkeeping, and the crew was gathered on the deck. They were carousing and waiting for further orders. A hand suddenly fell onto Carson's sore shoulder, startling them both.
They spun around, hearts racing. Jess stood next to them, his old and weathered face plastered with a wide grin.
"So you lads finally came 'round ta joinin' us," Jess said as he laughed amiably, then prodded them forward. "C'mon, we're waitin' on the cap'n ta give his speech."
Rodney and Carson were shoved out onto the deck, quickly finding themselves immersed in the celebration and laughter, but within moments the noise hushed to silence and they followed the crew's gazes up toward the captain, who had just emerged from his quarters in the forecastle with three other men who were even better dressed than he. They stood aside as Te'Lan prepared to address his crew.
He cleared his throat, speaking confidently and regally. "Lads, tomorrow will be a day long remembered in the history o' this world. Rumaarian fleets from all six regions have gathered here ta crush our common enemy once an' for all, an' we're goin' ta lead it. I've been appointed command o' this fleet, an' I intend ta raze Port Legacy ta the ground right after we raid their treasury."
The crew cheered jubilantly, earning a smile from Te'Lan, who continued in earnest. "We've lost some good friends, and we mourn for their loss. We may lose more yet still, but tomorrow we're goin' ta bring our enemies ta their knees, an' we'll be sailin' home rich men."
Another round of cheers nearly deafened them, but it died down quickly as one desperate voice rose above the others. "Ahoy! Ships on the horizon ta starboard, sir!"
It was the lookout who had been diligently keeping watch in the crow's nest. Heads looked up and about to peer along the horizon of water in the distance, but it was not immediately clear what was going on.
"Rumaarian colors, late-comers ta the fleet?" Te'Lan asked hesitantly.
"No, sir!" the lookout replied anxiously. "They're flyin' colors o' Gulran! There's hundreds of 'em!"
Te'Lan immediately jumped into action and the men that had gathered on the deck scattered, leaving Carson and Rodney standing precariously in the middle of a stampede of crewmen rushing to perform their duties as quickly as possible. The captain spouted orders. "Hail the fleet! Send out orders ta make sail due north as quickly as possible! We can't let 'em surround us between here an' the port!"
When everyone had their tasks and the fleet captains had left to go back to their own ships, Te'Lan pulled out a spyglass to assess the enemy fleet advancing on them. The two off-worlders had nothing to do but watch.
"Those ships spell bad news for us, lads," Te'Lan said softly as he peered out at the enemy fleet, then put his spyglass away and stalked closer, looking Carson straight in the eye. "I'd venture ta guess that someone told 'em our plan. Now, no one among my crew would be that foolish. But you, on the other hand…"
Carson did not flinch from the captain's gaze, but Rodney's eyes darted back and forth between him and the captain nervously, which gave the pirate more than enough of a hint that his assumption was well-founded and more than likely correct. Te'Lan smiled with cruel amusement, relishing the fear that emanated from the two off-worlders with each bead of sweat that dripped down their sunburned faces, and then with one swift movement backhanded Carson across the jaw. "Consider yerselves lucky that I still might have some use for ya as hostages. Otherwise, I'd gut ya both where ya stand."
Carson's ears rang, his vision momentarily turning a dark shade of purple as Rodney struggled to pick him up off the deck and out of range of the captain's wrath. Several red welts had been left on his jaw where the pirate's rings had left indentations, and he could taste bitter grittiness between his teeth, indicative of blood and possibly even a chipped tooth. The cuts on his shoulders throbbed with infection, too. Anger began welling up within him, and it dampened out a bit of the pain.
They watched helplessly as the sails were quickly unfurled and the ship began to turn with the rest of the fleet, moving against the natural currents of the water and swiftly turned to a northerly course. But the fleet of ships that was pursuing them was not lost; in fact, they continued to steadily gain more distance, if only for a few minutes until the ship reached its top speed. After that, they remained a steady and still a despairingly significant distance away toward the southern horizon.
Rodney propped Carson up against the gunwalls, hoping he had enough sense to hold on tight enough. He didn't have the strength left to support him, and with the ship's speed came the familiar sensation of vertigo and the nausea that incessantly accompanied it. "If Cadman expects a good performance review from my department next month, this had better be part of that big rescue plan you told me about."
"The chase is making full sail, sir," reported an officer as he watched the fleet of pirates through a spyglass from the fore of the ship.
"They've seen us," the port-master stated with annoyance as John squinted just to make out the shapes of individual ships out on the horizon in front of them, but his frown was smoothed by confidence. "If they really think they're going to outrun us, they're even more foolish than I thought."
"But sir," the boatswain asked hesitantly, "they have ta be leadin' us in ta the Haunted Straits. Te'Lan may be fearless, but I ain't."
The port-master spun on his heel, radiating annoyance and frustration once more as he jabbed an accusing finger toward the man. "Superstitious nonsense! Where Te'Lan goes, we will follow. I'll not allow that fleet to attack Port Legacy! Make the chase guns ready an' prepare ta fire on my order!"
John turned sharply to protest. "Now wait a minute! Our friends are still on that ship. Opening fire will put their lives at risk."
"I'm not about ta risk lettin' Te'Lan escape," the port-master sneered as he fixed his gaze on the enemy fleet at the northern horizon. "I'm goin' ta destroy that fleet, an' I intend ta have his head as a trophy."
"We had a deal," John insisted angrily, bringing his weapon to bear at the port-master threateningly. "You out-number them almost three-to-one. At least try to negotiate for their surrender!"
The port-master exploded with fury, then drew his pistol and aimed it at John despite the inferiority of his weapon. "Soldiers o' Gulran don't negotiate with pirates!"
A stand-off would have ensued if John had not been distinctly aware of the sound of gun hammers being cocked around him. A large number of the crew had come to the port-master's defense and had pistols and rifles aimed at his heart.
John suddenly felt Henry's back touching his own, heard him gulp nervously, and could only assume that there were more crewmen behind him. Rather than needlessly waste their lives, he slowly unclasped his P90 from his tac vest and lowered it to the deck without taking his eyes off of the port-master. The pistol was then lowered, and the crewmen that had their guns trained on him had seized his weapon and both his and Henry's arms.
"Give me his weapon," the port-master ordered, and then one of the crewmen handed him John's P90.
The weapon's operation was simple enough to be figured out just as the first volley of cannons at the bow of the ship were fired. The port-master grinned happily, gazing at his newest acquisition with delight. "'Tis a very fine weapon indeed. It'll come in handy in the future o' the war effort. Command will be pleased."
"Sir," the boatswain reported again. "The enemy fleet is stopping. I think they're turning ta fight."
All eyes focused on the horizon in the direction of the enemy fleet, which had slowed in a small area of shallow water. The shadowy depths seemed to be hazy and misty, making it difficult to see where the horizon far in the distance stopped and the sky began, and yet it somehow sparkled at the same time despite the relative abundance of clouds in the sky that masked out the sun. John could well imagine that the area the sailors had called 'The Haunted Strait' could have been named for this reason alone.
The port-master grinned again eccentrically and turned his back on John. "Fire all guns as soon as we're in range."
"Ha!" Te'Lan chortled confidently, seemingly unaffected by the stresses of impending combat with a fleet that easily outnumbered his. He'd pulled his spyglass out again and had apparently found something of interest with it, so thus decided to seek out Rodney and Carson to gloat. Leaning down over them as they sat back against the gunwalls, he grinned. "This day just keeps gettin' worse for ya, doesn't it? I thought ya might like ta know that I caught a glimpse o' yer friends on the Gulran flagship, an' they appear ta be prisoners. How foolish of 'em ta try ta strike a deal with Gulran instead o' just payin' the ransom. At least I'm a man o' my word, which is more than I can say for them."
"Ye lyin' bastard," Carson muttered angrily, trying to push himself up to unsteady feet, but was held back by Rodney's firm grip. Recklessly asking for more punishment would get them nowhere.
Te'Lan chuckled with amusement and rocked back on the balls of his feet without a care. "Me, lie? The truth is far too satisfying. See fer yourselves, if ya don't believe me. The flagship is the one that just fired on us, so best keep yer heads down."
One lucky shot splintered a gaping hole in the gunwalls at the bow of the ship, knocking two cannons and several men over the edge into the water, and yet Te'Lan still smiled. Crewmen scampered across the deck, preparing the cannons that faced the enemy to fire as quickly as humanly possible, but they waited patiently for the captain's order to do so. Soon, another gaping hole had been blown in the hull, and another ship in the fleet began to break apart and sink.
"Steady, lads!" Te'Lan yelled when some of the younger sailors began to look twitchy. "Wait for it!"
Rodney and Carson knelt under cover of the capstan for the anchor and waited, dreading the moment that was about to come when Te'Lan would tell them that the ship their friends were on had sunk into the sea.
"Why haven't they returned fire yet?" the port-master asked aloud, but none of his officers had an answer. He hadn't really expected one, but he didn't like not knowing if his opponent might have a strategy he didn't expect. If there was one thing worse than dying at the hands of a pirate, it was losing to one. He spun around on his heel to pace the small length of the bow of his ship impatiently and decided he didn't want to look bad in front of prisoners. "Chain the prisoners in the cargo hold."
But just a few moments after the crewmen holding John and Henry had left to comply with their orders, blazing flashes of light lit up the sky to the south and west of the fleet. A cacophony of explosions barraged his ears moments later as a swarm of cannonballs filled the sky above. Then another barrage of cannon-fire erupted to the north, from Te'Lan's fleet, following a second later.
Hundreds more pirate ships had gathered and waited in the hidden mists of the Haunted Straits, waiting for just that moment to open fire on the vulnerable sides of the Gulran fleet.
The port-master watched death fall from the sky in the form of hundreds of cannonballs being fired almost as one. He'd been outmaneuvered.
The hull was pierced so forcefully and so rapidly that wood splintered in all directions, instantly killing nearly everyone who had been stationed on the main deck, including the port-master himself. Within minutes, the only remaining life on the ship was the prisoners in the cargo hold and those of the crew that had been sent to chain them.
The crewmen who had performed this duty had hardly had a chance to finish before the ship began to break up around them. They fled for their lives, attempting to swim through the water that now gushed in a torrent through huge gaps in the hull, but few made it out into the open water without being fatally sliced by shrapnel or splintered wood from the hull.
John and Henry struggled and pulled to no avail against the chains that bound them to what was once the ship's inner hull. Sea water gushed and bubbled around them, and within seconds, the hold had completely flooded. The remains of the ship slowly sank below the surface of the sea, finally breaking apart and settling in a heap on the shallow sea floor, there to rest and rot away for eternity.