00.1 - The Blood Price Read Online Free PDF

and flashed overhead,
burying itself in the forward mast. Cries of pain and bitter curses filled the
air as wounded corsairs lurched aft, pawing at jagged splinters that jutted from
their arms, faces and chests.
    Another bang resounded from the citadel, and this time Malus saw the long,
black bolt punch a neat hole through the patrol ship’s aft sail. The chief
bowman laughed like a devil. “We’ve got them now!” he cried. “Bring up the
pitch-pots!”
    On the heels of the command came another crash, and this time Malus heard the
disconcerting sound of steel meeting flesh. Hot blood sprayed his face, and a
druchii let out a gurgling scream. A corsair less than ten paces away fell to
the deck, his left arm and shoulder torn away by a glancing blow from an enemy
bolt.
    “Don’t bunch up!” Lhunara yelled to the druchii manning the citadel. “Spread
out and duck your heads when the bolts come in! You can’t fight a damned thing
with a splinter in your eye!”
    For ten long minutes the two ships exchanged shots as the range dwindled. The
elven repeater bolt throwers laid down a withering fire: heavy blows hammered
into the prow and smashed more of the railing, and bolts flashed overhead to
puncture sails and split ropes like wet threads. One horrifying shot seemed to
slither through a group of corsairs, ricocheting between their bodies and
smashing them to a pulp before caroming off into the sea. The citadel reeked of
spilt blood and entrails. Malus knelt beside Lhunara and wondered when his turn
would come.
    Then a pair of corsairs clambered onto the deck with buckets of pitch and a
lit torch in their hands. They took one of the bolts and dipped it in the thick
tar, then loaded it and set it alight. The reaper bolt thrower banged, and a
streak of fire arced like a meteor through the leaden sky. Malus watched it plunge toward the enemy ship and bury itself
in the aft mast. In moments the sail and rigging were ablaze.
    A blood-hungry howl went up from the corsairs. Lhunara turned to Malus. “Now
we go to work,” she said. To the surviving archers the first mate called, “Get
ready!” Then she leaned over the aft rail and shouted down at the main deck.
“Hooks and lines, starboard side!” she ordered. “Gold and glory!”
    “Gold and glory!” the corsairs answered lustily, and leapt into action.
    Lhunara led Malus down to the main deck, where the boarders were gathering.
Druchii stood at the rail with grappling hooks and coils of heavy cable,
surrounded by corsairs bearing crossbows, swords and axes. Silar was waiting for
Malus there, a blade in one hand and a small crossbow in the other. Amaleth,
similarly armed, stood a short way off. The second mate’s expression was focused
and intent.
    Suddenly, Malus was very aware of the mob of armed druchii surrounding him.
Any one of them could be Lurhan’s hidden assassin.
    Lhunara readied her weapons and looked over Malus and Silar, noticing for the
first time that both were still in their plate armour. “You’ll want to watch
your step,” she said pointedly, adjusting the weight of her own chainmail
hauberk.
    Malus tried not to think about it. “Have you made your decision?”
    Just as she was about to reply the bowstrings on the citadel hummed, and the
roar of flames filled the air. Without warning the heaving flank of the elven
patrol ship loomed alongside, and a sleet of deadly arrows rained down on the
waiting corsairs. The druchii with the grappling hooks suffered the worst; more
than half of them fell, their bodies riddled with white shafts from neck to
waist. But before they died they hurled their grapples through the air, and most
of them found purchase on the enemy ship, snagging the patrol craft’s port hull.
Crossbows snapped in response to the Ulthuan volley, and answering screams
drifted across the space between the two ships as more corsairs ran forward and
hauled on the cables. Moments later there was a shuddering