Chase the Morning

The sea shimmered a moment the colour of fresh blood; the light dimmed. We emerged into the first rosy flush of island twilight. There lay the ships, a mile or so away in the sheltered arm of the bay. Faint windrows riffled across the calm water, like smoke across a mirror. And there on the shore were the boats, luring even the wounded to hurry on, forgetting their pain, eager to get free of even the shadow of that forest. The fit hands held back to help them with nervy patience, casting black looks up at the treeline as the uneven column straggled along the beach. We weren’t under the cover of the Defiance’s guns yet, and twitched like kittens at every rustle. Orders were passed down the line in hoarse whispers. Pistols were clicked to half-cock, swords drawn; every bird that fluttered up risked a dozen deaths, though fortunately nobody was actually fool enough to fire. When we came near enough we waved frantically at the ship – we didn’t dare hail them aloud – and got a laconic reply. It seemed like the first tangible link between us and safety, however weak – the thread that pulls over the lifeline. We all felt our spirits lift and leap like the boats, coming alive under our hands as we ran them down into the light surf.

It seemed almost like an anticlimax as we bundled into them, unopposed. I even heard some of the madder hands wishing the Wolves had come down after us, so they could have shown them what for. When the castle came briefly into view as the first boat bounced out through the shallows, a great baying call of mockery and defiance went up. I remembered the jarring, meaty thump as my sword ran through the great Wolf captain, and ground my teeth in exultation, forgetting how starkly terrified I’d been. I caught Clare about the shoulders and hugged her tight. She looked up at me and laughed, and we watched the hateful shore fall further behind at every stroke.

Only Mall seemed not to share the feeling, and perhaps also Jyp. She sat hunched and still in the bows of the other boat, her hand near her sword, constantly looking from ship to shore as if measuring the distance some unknown menace might travel in our wake. Jyp was slumped exhausted in the stern of ours, but his eyes flickered across the same course, ship to shore and back again; and after a few minutes he began to force his injured arm to flex, trying to stop it stiffening.

‘Stop it, you berk!’ I told him. ‘You’ll start it bleeding again!’

‘Sure, but at least I’ll have the use of it!’ he answered quietly. ‘Like I said – not till I set my feet on that deck … And maybe not even then. We’re getting off too lightly.’

‘Twelve dead and eighteen wounded is light?’

‘Well, no. And may be Mall put the fear of … Mall into them! But odds are they’d not give up so easily – not the Invisibles. They’re planning more hell yet. Maybe it’s already here.’ His pain-reddened eyes rested on Clare for an instant. ‘Something we’re carrying with us, maybe.’

She huddled back against me. ‘What’s he saying?’

‘Nothing. He’s feverish. Can it, Jyp. This is just Clare, right?’

He nodded, perspiring as he flexed his arm. ‘Right. I trust your feelings, Steve. Wanted to be sure, that’s all.’ He leaned back and closed his eyes. I found myself swaying away from Clare a little, looking her up and down, meeting her gaze hard.

‘Just Clare,’ I repeated, and, rather hesitantly, she smiled.

Even so, it was a moment of deep relief as we came under the lee of the Defiance and saw the mate in the bows waving us in. The derricks creaked out, and I noticed May Henry, muffled up in a bright bandanna, among the sleepy hands who shuffled up to tip rope ladders down to us.

‘And a sling and chair for the wounded!’ yelled Mall impatiently. ‘Shift your idle scuts!’

With a last glance back at the shore she drove her men up the ladders, helping such of the wounded as could climb. I was already helping Jyp up, with Clare beneath us; Mall came shinning up the boarding steps past us, swearing at the slowness of the hands above. Together, straddling the rail, we bundled Jyp up and over. Hearing his feet thump decisively on the deck, I was about to chaff him about his definition of safety when I saw the look on his face. I looked up sharply – and stiffened.

As we were meant to. The horror of the sight held us just long enough. Rising in the rigging, bobbing in the breeze by the noose about its throat, the grotesquely twisted corpse of a yellow dog –

The flung nets exploded over us, caught Clare opening her mouth to scream, Mall swinging her leg over the rail and reaching for her sword, me turning to shout a warning. We were jerked violently back, toppling over the rail and crashing in a tangled heap on the planks. All in silence; but a sudden hoarse shout went up.