Ship of Magic

Page 229

The moment the crossbow was not pointed at his chest, Kennit sprang forward. He poised his blade to chop one of the davit lines that supported the boat. “Throw down the weapon and come back on board,” Kennit ordered him. “Or I'll feed you to the serpent now!”

The man spat at Kennit, then fired the bolt unerringly into the serpent's swirling green eye. The bolt vanished from sight into the creature's brain. Kennit guessed it was not the first serpent the man had shot. As the creature went into a frenzy of lashing and screaming, the man drew his own knife and began sawing at the line just above the hook that secured it to the boat. “We'll take our chances with the serpents, you bastard!” he screamed at Kennit as the undulating serpent sank beneath the waves. “Rodel, cut your line loose!”

Rodel, however, did not share his skipper's optimism regarding the serpent. The terrified sailor gave a cry of despair and flung himself from the dangling boat back to the ship's deck. Kennit disabled him with a cut to his leg and then put his attention back on the boat. He ignored the cries of the squirming sailor who tried vainly to stem the flow of his blood.

With a single stride Kennit sprang into the swinging boat. He set the tip of his blade to the captain's throat. “Back,” he suggested with a smile. “Or die here. ”

The seized-up block-and-tackle suddenly broke free. One end of the suspended boat dropped abruptly, spilling men into the sea even as the serpent once more erupted to the surface. Kennit, lithe and lucky as a cat, sprang clear of the falling boat. One hand caught the railing of the Sicerna, and then the other. He was hauling up his dangling legs when the serpent lifted its head from the water to regard him. Its ruined eye ran ichor and blood. It opened its maw wide and screamed, a sound of fury and despair. Its blinded eye faced towards the men who struggled in the water, while Kennit dangled before the good eye like a fishing lure. Frantically, he swung one leg up over the railing and hooked it there. As softly as a well-trained pet takes a tidbit from its master's fingers, the serpent closed its jaws on his other leg.

It hurt, it burned like a red-hot leg-iron, and he screamed. Then the pain suddenly flowed away from him. A chill, delightfully numbing, chased the pain away as hot water purges cold from the skin. He felt it flowing up his body. Relief, such relief from the pain. He felt his leg relax with it, and then the numbness was flowing higher. His scream died away to a groan.

“NO!” The whore shrieked the word as she flew across the deck. Etta must have been watching from the deck of the Marietta. No one blocked her way. The deck was mostly cleared of live men; they had probably fallen back at sight of the serpent rising again. Some impromptu weapon, a boarding ax or a kitchen cleaver, flashed in the sunlight as Etta brandished it. She was screaming, a stream of gutter invective and threats directed toward the serpent that even now was lifting him up. Some reflex made him cling to the ship's railing with all his might. That was not much anymore. Strength had fled him. Whatever venom the serpent had put into his wound was already rendering him helpless. When Etta seized him in a wild embrace that also included the ship's railing, he scarcely felt her grip. “Let him go!” she commanded the serpent. “Let him go, you bitch thing, you slimy sea-worm, you whore's ass! Let him go!”

The enfeebled serpent tugged on his booted leg, stretching him out over the water. Etta hauled determinedly back. The woman was stronger than he had thought. He saw more than felt the serpent set its teeth more firmly. Like a hot knife through butter, those teeth sheared through flesh and muscle. He had a glimpse of exposed bone, looking oddly honeycombed where the serpent's saliva ate into it. The creature turned its great head like a hooked fish, preparing to give a shake that would either tear him loose from the railing or snatch his leg from his body. Sobbing, Etta raised her weapon. “Damn you!” she screamed, “damn you, damn you, damn you!” Her puny blade fell, but not as Kennit had expected. She did not waste the blow on the serpent's heavily scaled snout. Instead the blade cracked loudly against his weakened bone. She severed his leg just below the serpent's teeth, cutting it off a nice bite as it were. He saw blood gout from the ragged worried stump of his leg as she hauled him hastily backward, crabbing across the deck with him in her grip. He dimly heard the awe-stricken cries of his men as the serpent raised its head still higher, and then suddenly collapsed back into the sea, boneless as a piece of string. It would not rise again. It was dead. And Etta had fed it his leg.

“Why did you do that?” he demanded of her faintly. “What have I ever done to you that you would chop my leg off?”