Turbulent Seas
Ekwesh of the Symboti pod of Denyen, first son of Alqwesh Denyen and Tidecaller of those of Blávale, tightened his grip on the coral handle and pulled himself low to the whale as it surged from the depths. The dark, sapphire-coloured water soon gave way to shimmering hues of azure and orange as the animal powered closer to the fading light of what Ekwesh and his people called ‘the time between dolphin and shark’.
The burly Whale-Tender, Zelech had steered the animal’s charge using the looming shadow of the tower-ship hull to gauge their position for the most effective impact. Ekwesh had spotted its hull in the shallows of a nearby island, moving out of port. He knew it was a fifth tower, kept in reserve. This must have been preferable to being caught by Kraken ships at shore. An attack had to wait for deeper waters. They had not surfaced in some time. As his brother, Shekelesh would often say, ‘the breath was against them’.
The leader of the Whale Riders could make out flotsam, sinking debris and the drowned or drowning, scattered ahead of them. Dozens of short-fin pointer sharks drawn by the commotion were circling at speed through crimson clouds, nipping at the still living or biting down and sawing flesh from the dead.
This target was larger than the other enemy ships the Whale Riders had sent to the silt and a second pass on the opposite side of the metal-lined hull was needed to be rid of it.
The whale struck the ship. The force of the impact was so great, it would have shaken Ekwesh and the others free had they not been harnessed to their mounts on the whale’s back. The coral spikes of the whale’s armour tore into the underside of the partially iron-clad enemy hull, puncturing the timbers and gouging a long fissure along its length, before they all came to a sudden jarring halt.
The tower operators were better prepared for a second attack and harpoons drew bubbles through the water, closer to the whale than Ekwesh was comfortable with. He had guessed the larger weapons would be useless against a target so close.
It was time to escape but the whale did not dive, instead struggling and thrashing in the water. Ekwesh could hear its urgent clicks and desperate mournful cries. The damage from the first attack caused the top-heavy tower to list away. The roll had managed to trap the first two coral spikes of the whale’s armour, and Ekwesh could feel it being lifted to the surface. Two harpoons lodged in the coral armour, tiny fragments breaking off and drifting away on the current. Another harpoon struck the creature’s pectoral fin, causing the whale to convulse and emit a deafening cry which seemed to come from everywhere around them.
The violent twisting of the whale did nothing to budge the spikes. Ekwesh could see the hulls of two other enemy ships within range, the Whale Riders’ actions not gone unnoticed. The situation was becoming more perilous by the moment.
Ekwesh released a series of high-pitched calls to the other Symboti, and as one they grabbed their weapons or tools and detached from the whale, all except Zelech – who needed to stay where he was at the front – and Krill, who had been told not to detach from the whale.
With a few kicks, Ekwesh was at the nearest trapped spike. Shekelesh and Lycia were closer to the front spike. They nodded at each other and pulled themselves out of the water. After they took several deep breaths, they climbed along the underside of the spike, using it as cover against the arrows and spears raining down upon them. Ekwesh followed along the other spike, his weapons and tools ready. The muscular Argresh and lithe Peleset emerged from the water bearing large, turtle-shell shields. They moved along the top of each of the trapped spikes to protect the others.
When he reached the narrower part of the coral near the hull, Ekwesh hung upside-down by the legs and started swinging and hacking at the spike with his full strength. In this position, he was covered from fire by Peleset and the beam of the ship’s hull, but from a quick glance across the water could see a Zadesti ship bearing down on them.
The oars of the ship were in position and stroking in time with the unmistakable beat of a Zadesti ‘Demon-heart’ drum picking up pace. Long arrows were already thunking into the timbers close by him. Time was running out. Ekwesh redoubled his efforts to chop and saw at the spike.
Movement in the sky caught his attention. A large volley of arrows thudded into the timbers, squelched into the whale’s blubber, and splashed into the water. Lycia screamed. Ekwesh looked to see both his brother and Argresh slip from the other trapped spike, hitting the side of the ship and sliding into the water through the smallest gaps between the hull and the whale’s hide as they bashed against each other on the waves.
The two Symboti disappeared from view. There was no way for Ekwesh to tell if they had made it to the water alive or if they had been crushed against the hull in the whale’s continued, and more agitated, thrashing and twisting. His wanted to find out for himself but there was still a job to do. Lycia had stopped sawing at the coral and was searching for her mate.
“Lycia, they are safer in the water,” Ekwesh called to her. “Break the spike.”
She continued to scan below, desperate for a glimpse of Shekelesh and Argresh. With the whale’s cries and its thudding against the ship, the sounds of splashing water and his own sawing of the coral, Ekwesh concluded Lycia could not hear him. It was only when her son Weshesh attempted to take the place of his father that Lycia took her eyes from the waves.
“Back!” she screamed at her son, waving her arms wildly at him. “Get back in the water.”
Weshesh was hesitant, and he reached out along the spike. “Mother, move to me,” he called.
Lycia could not or would not move.
“You need to hurry,” Peleset warned Ekwesh, poised on the coral as she guarded him with her shield. “If Blávale is lifted or dragged under, it will be a disaster. Our brothers have not resurfaced, and something is wrong with Lycia.” Ekwesh did not have the time to respond. He continued his strained efforts to hack at and saw through the spike.
The immense pressure it was under, and the undulation of the vessel and the animal produced a resounding crack as it snapped apart in a cloud of white shards and fragments. One of the coral spikes was free but it had taken so much time that the second enemy ship was upon them. Ekwesh pulled himself to the top of the broken spike.
“Well done. One more,” Peleset noted, before they leapt to the further spike in a fluid and acrobatic movement. The tower had listed to a point where it was difficult for its crew to stay upright, let alone continue to haul harpoons or loose arrows at them. The crew could be heard clambering onto the ammunition boats. Ekwesh looked to the approaching ship. There were ballistae trained on them, but they held their fire. He looked back to the other coral spike, where Peleset was lifting Lycia and pulling her back along the spike to the whale. It was when the pair turned that he could see an arrow protruding from Lycia’s lower back.
Ekwesh signalled for Weshesh to stay where he was, and he was about to jump to the other spike when arrows flew past his head into the ship’s timbers beside him. He dropped low.
On the other spike, both Peleset and Lycia had been hit by the volley.
Despite Peleset’s efforts to shield Lycia, several arrows now protruded from her chest and neck. Lycia’s body slipped from the spike and fell to the waves. Peleset, who had been hit in the thigh and leg, pulled the arrows free and dived in after her.
Ekwesh readied himself, raised his saw above his head and jumped. With a roar, the powerful Whale Rider swung down on the remainder of the spike and split it in two. All the forces combined to propel the enormous whale away from the ship. The wooden vessel lurched in the other direction. His saw forgotten, Ekwesh twisted towards the water, managing to take a large breath at the last moment before he splashed into the sea.
“Dive!” Ekwesh screamed under the waves. Peleset had re-attached to the whale, tightly gripping Lycia’s body. A hand grabbed Ekwesh’s shoulder, and he spun to see his brother struggling with the unconscious Argresh. Shekelesh had torn as much armour from the musclebound warrior as he could. Ekwesh took Argresh’s other arm over his shoulder and signalled to his brother to swim. They kicked and clawed against the water with every ounce of strength they had left. The whale lifted its tail and began to dive. Shekelesh caught hold of the rear coral spike as it moved away from him. Ekwesh gave another powerful kick and reached the spike. The pair clutched the unconscious hunter to them.
A ballista round punctured the water, finding a path between the coral protrusions. Another two spears bubbled past. The whale dived. The force of the water made it difficult for them to hang on. The water grew darker. Ekwesh only felt relief when the shadows of the ships above faded and merged into the surrounding surface.
Guthram surveyed the damage to his vessel. They had been under heavy fire from the enemy, with an attempt made to board his ship. Several bodies of his crew and enemy marines lay on the main deck. The foresail had been split along its entire length, and the topsail was set alight and burned until the ties gave way, sending the cloth flapping to the ocean. The hull, however, was still intact, not a single round managing to pierce the ironwood.
Guthram was about to give an order to gather the bodies of the crew and toss the enemy dead overboard when a call came from the nest, announcing the arrival of the Whale Riders to starboard.
Guthram rushed to the bulwark. He first noticed the broken coral spikes of the whale’s armour; then he saw his friend standing on the whale’s back, his head bowed as he took deep breaths. There were arrows lodged in the coral armour and a wound on the whale’s fin, still bleeding. Two of the other riders were securing something into position, and it took Guthram a moment to realise it was the body of Lycia. A terrible guilt and sorrow clutched his heart, and he could not find a voice.
Ekwesh looked up at the captain, and the pain was clear on the Whale Rider’s face, which was being whipped in the strong wind by his long, wet hair.
“Guthram Captain, I am sorry, my friend, but we can no longer stay in the fight,” called Ekwesh, trying to be louder than the wind. “I need to reach land to have my people’s wounds and Lycia’s body tended to. The day is lost. You should retreat.”
Guthram detected only sorrow in Ekwesh’s words. “I am truly sorry, my friend,” he said eventually.
“I know you fight for your family, and it is a fight we could all understand, a fight Lycia understood,” said the Whale Rider. “We all decided to help you, together. Lycia knew the danger, as did we all. Our fight must continue but not this night.
“Should you retreat, I shall find you. I shall look for your sails on the horizon and listen for the chime. May your god keep you. Swift tides.” He returned to his position on the whale and harnessed himself to the coral armour. Zelech had been watching his leader and struck the metal cylinders in front of him. A blast of air and water came from the whale’s blowhole and the animal moved forward in the water. Ekwesh looked back at Guthram and lifted his arm. Guthram returned the gesture.
Swift tides, my friend, thought the captain. “First mate!” he shouted. Drengr acknowledged him. “Order the retreat.” Drengr nodded.
“All hands, full retreat. Signalmen, show to all ships. Retreat. Follow command vessel. Harlot’s Grave to regroup,” Drengr called to the bosun and the crew. The flagmen ran to either side of the ship and relayed the orders to the other Kraken ships.
“We’re giving up?” enquired Drengr.
“We are not giving up. The Whale Riders are out of the battle, the Fang is barely floating. We need to come up with a different strategy, then come back.”
“Captain,” came the alarmed call from the nest. “Retreat route blocked. Ships directly on our lines.”
Guthram ran to the port side to confirm. There were ships in their path.
How could we have been outmanoeuvred like this?
The dusk light made it difficult to make out the fleet’s colours and an unsettling thought occurred to the captain. The only option left to them was to steer toward the city, run the ships aground and hope for the best. The size of the command ship was impressive. Guthram calculated it could hold a hundred marines.
A flaming arrow was fired from the top deck of the large ship and arched back down and into the water. Someone was trying to signal them. Another arrow tore into the darkening sky. It reached its apex, fell, and extinguished on impact with the water. Still unsure of the purpose of the arrows, Guthram watched the lead ship. A dozen lanterns were being moved along the forecastle and in front of a flag, illuminating a white embroidered bear claw on a black scroll on a field of red. The captain’s anxiety dissipated. The flags of the other ships also grew in familiarity. They bore the flag of Aksson high on their lines, and just below it, the rising yellow sunburst on a white field, the flag of Sonnerton. There were almost twenty ships of various classes and sizes from the Sonnerton Coastal Protection Fleet.
Along with the faces of his wife and newborn son, it was one of the most beautiful sights Guthram had ever seen. He looked to the black, turbulent water below. The fight was over for now. There was no way any ship from either side was going to risk further action in the reef-filled, wind-churned seas until dawn. He considered the reinforced fleet. With these new ships from Sonnerton, a strategy formed. If they could get to the furthest islands, they could gather more ships, crews and soldiers from the islands not yet taken. They could then use the larger force to retake the rest. He thought there were bound to be Kraken ships out there, as well as more local vessels. If it worked, the fleet could close in on the enemy and destroy them.
“Drengr,” called Guthram. “After we meet our new friends…new heading, all ships to make for Ilak Túk. We’ll take the islands back one at a time if we have to.”