Chapter 19: The Slave Ship

 

Shailaja fought to control the heaving of her guts.  It had taken barely half a turn of the glass for the ugliness of seasickness to return.  However, her current circumstances promised little hope for improvement.

 

She was placed at the end of a long chain connecting her to the rest of the female slaves.  Her position at the end of the chain along with Vasanta and several of the more attractive women seemed quite ominous.  Although she could understand nothing of the language the slavers spoke, the way they had looked at her and Vasanta spoke volumes for their intentions.  They had now been at sea for what she guessed was half a day.  It was hard to tell time in the dark bowels of the ship, but they had not yet been brought food or water so she guessed they had not been under way for very long.

 

She and the other slaves had been brought aboard in chains, each connected to the woman next to her.  Once aboard the ship they had been paraded across the deck to a dark hatchway and then forced to descend a ladder to the lower levels of the ship.  With each slave chained to the other, climbing down the steep ladder had not been easy, but somehow they made it with only one or two of the women slipping as they came down.  By some minor miracle no one suffered more than a few cuts and bruises.  Once in the lower hold they had been herded to the starboard side of the ship and placed along it in two rows facing one another.  The slavers had made sure that they would stay there by running a length of chain through a single shackle on each of their ankles and locking it to a large padlock attached to a heavy staple at the end of the line.  It was a somewhat lengthy process, but most of the women were thoroughly cowed and there were enough slavers to make sure that they behaved while they were chained.    

 

The place where they had been chained was so cramped that Shailaja could almost touch the feet of the woman across from her.  In confined space of the hold she counted one hundred and forty women.  It reminded her very much of the way pigs were crowded together in the back of a wagon on the way to market.   

 

The male slaves, including Guered, were placed on the opposite side of the ship and secured in the same way.  It made for horribly crowded conditions that soon got worse.  Unable to move from where they had been placed, there was no choice for any of the slaves but to fowl the area where they sat.  Shailaja and Vasanta managed to hold out, but few of their fellow slaves lasted long.  Soon the hold stank of urine and feces. 

 

Shailaja made her own contribution to the stench, heaving the contents of her stomach between her legs.  It made for an utterly miserable situation and one that Shailaja vowed would not last long.  However, in spite of the misery of her situation she knew that he could not act immediately.  First she had to wait until the slavers performed an expected task.

 

She had to wait until nightfall, a time of day that was revealed only when the hatch leading to the main deck was opened.  Four men descended the ladder, but before they did they lowered two large sacks and two wooden buckets.  Reaching the bottom of the ladder, two of them picked up the sacks and the other two the buckets.  Then they paired off, one man with a bucket and one with a sack going to each side of the ship.

 

As Shailaja had expected the sack contained food, in this case a half loaf of hard bread; and the bucket water.  She knew from past experience that she would not be able to keep the bread down and gave her share to Vasanta and the woman next to her.  She was able to swallow some of the water before the slaver serving her moved on.  He said something, grinning lasciviously as he did so.  Shailaja understood not a word, but his meaning was clear enough from the way he looked at her and Vasanta.  It was obvious that she and her companion, along with a few of the other young women were to provide entertainment for the crew.  However, she had her own ideas about that.

 

She waited until the slavers had returned to the main deck and closed the hatch.  Although she was now in complete darkness, she knew what she was about.  She stretched her right arm along the chain as far as she could reach, eventually locating the heavy padlock.  Had she not been so long-limbed she would not have been able to reach it, but it was something that the slavers had overlooked and Shailaja took full advantage of it.  She also took advantage of what she had managed to palm while on the stone dock.  When forced to her knees by the slavers she had knelt upon a sharp object.  Disguising her pain she had ignored it until ordered to her feet; then she had quickly picked it up.

 

Her acquisition was unobserved and she later discovered that she had managed to find a copper nail.  It had not injured her seriously and she was able to conceal it from her captors.  Now she went to work on the heavy padlock that was connected to the chain about her neck. 

 

It was not a complicated lock, but Shailaja had not done much in the way of picking locks during her career.  However, she had seen others work on similar locks when she had been part of the mercenary band she had followed for three years and she was aware of the general principles.  One member of the band in particular, a dark-haired Arkanian called Trelg, had exhibited special skill with locks, although he was pretty much useless on the battlefield.  However, she and the other members of the band had found it quite convenient to have him along when it came to opening the heavy iron-bound strongboxes many wealthy merchants possessed. 

 

She had watched with interest as he quickly opened even the most complex locks and remembered some of the techniques he employed.  The heavy padlock she was trying to open was not nearly as complicated as her companion-in-arms had overcome, but she did not come close to possessing his level of skill.  However, she remembered to bend the end of the nail in order to trip the lock mechanism.  She also remembered that Trelg sometimes worked with two or even three lock-picks at once.  Her bent nail did not measure up to that, but it would just have to do. 

 

She soon found that picking locks was not nearly as easy as Trelg had made it look.  Stretching as far as she could barely allowed her to reach the lock.  She worked the nail in the lock mechanism hoping to hear the click that would tell her she had succeeded.  However, her first attempt at lock-picking turned out to be incredibly frustrating. 

 

Again and again she twisted her makeshift pick in the lock, and again and again she failed.  Stretched as far as she could reach, she quickly found the work exhausting, and even with her great strength she had to frequently stop and rest.  But she kept at it knowing that this might be her only chance of escape.  If the slavers had planned for her what she thought they did she would be far too busy “entertaining” them to have any chance of escape. 

 

Patiently she worked at the lock, refusing to give in to frustration.  In this her experience as a hunter helped her to control her temper.  There was no point becoming angry because a fish would not take her hook or a deer would not come within range of her arrow, and there was no point in raging against the stubbornness of a lock either. 

 

Her nude body was soon dripping with sweat, her unbound hair clinging to her body.  Her arm felt as if she had been swinging a blade all day, her shoulder aching with the strain of keeping her arm extended, but she kept at it, trying to find the elusive combination that would spring the padlock. 

 

How many turns of the glass it took she had no idea, but the only sounds other than the weeping and moaning of the other women were those that the ship made as it slapped into each swell. 

 

By now the stench of the lower hold was becoming distinctly rank.  The odour of sweat, vomit, urine, and feces made the air into a soup that Shailaja could barely draw into her lungs.  It gave her an added incentive to succeed at her task, provided success was even remotely possible.  And that was the difficulty.  Picking the lock with her crude instrument might be beyond her ability and as the night wore on and the sweat rolled down her body and her muscles strained to continue her task she began to despair that she would have any success. 

 

In spite of her exhaustion and her doubts Shailaja kept at her repetitive task, twisting the thin piece of metal within the lock until finally, and by now unexpectedly, there was the welcome click of release and the padlock fell open.  Hardly daring to believe her luck, Shailaja grasped the padlock and released the end of the chain that held her and then turned to Vasanta. 

 

The Nahn princess has waited patiently while Shailaja worked on the lock, stretching her own chain as far as it would go in order to give Shailaja the slack she needed to reach the padlock.  Now she quickly pulled the chain through the link that held it to the heavy shackle on her right ankle.  She could not remove the shackle, but she could free herself from the chain.  Once free she got to her feet and stretched her cramped muscles. 

 

The woman next to her began to pull the chain through her shackles.  The chain rattled against the metal, but Vasanta doubted that the noise could be heard above the noise of the ship by any of the slavers.  What she did hear was Narda’s voice. 

 

“What are you doing?” she asked out of the darkness.  “How did you manage to get free?  Don’t you know we will be punished for removing the chain?”

 

Vasanta ignored her and tried to remember if there was anything in the hold that might be used as a weapon.  She doubted that there would be and her chances of finding anything in the stygian darkness was quite remote. 

 

She remembered that as they had climbed down the ladder into the lower hold they had passed another deck that was directly above the place where she was now.  It too had been filled with slaves, mostly men, but she recalled seeing a heavy door toward the stern.  It was possible that she might find something useful there, provided she could open it.

 

Narda was whining again.  “We’ll all get our ears cropped for this.  That’s what the Seldarians do.  Put the chain back.”

 

Vasanta realized from the noise around the heavyset woman that she was preventing the other women from freeing themselves.  Stumbling slightly she found her way toward the sound of the altercation.  She couldn’t see Narda, but she could hear her well enough.  From the sounds of struggle she determined that she was on her feet and battling with the other women who had been freed. 

 

She positioned herself as well as she could and then called out.  “Get away from her, I will deal with this.”  She waited a few seconds and then moved forward.  It didn’t take her long to find Narda, in fact the woman foolishly helped her.

 

“Come on you black-haired bitch.  You redheaded friend isn’t here to help you now.” 

 

Vasanta moved toward the voice.  She extended one arm and touched flesh.  Narda reacted immediately gripping her arm and pulling her closer.  “Got you bitch,” she shouted triumphantly.

 

Vasanta made no effort to escape instead she allowed herself to be pulled foreword and then she slammed her elbow into the space where she judged Narda’s face would be.  Her elbow came into contact with something hard.  There was a crunch and a scream of pain as she broke Narda’s nose and sent her tumbling hard against the side of the ship. 

 

“If you’re going to pick a fight you should learn how, you big cow,” Vasanta mocked.  “Now shut up or I’ll kill you.”

 

Narda’s agonized yells quickly diminished and Vasanta hoped that if the slavers heard it they would take it for nothing more than one of the slaves screaming in despair.  Her warning seemed to have an affect of the other women as well.  Most of them stopped their moaning and the only sound was that of the chain as it was dragged through the iron ring on their shackles. 

 

On the other side of the ship Shailaja had managed to make her way to the padlock.  The man at the end of the chain did not speak her language or the Common Tongue, but he seemed to understand what she was doing and whispered something to the man next to him.  The message went down the line as she worked on the padlock.  Being able to stand made the work considerably easier, even if the heaving of the ship and her seasickness attempted to distract her from her task. 

 

Whether her skill had improved or if she was just luckier this time the work on the lock went much faster.  The padlock clicked open and she removed the chain and then waited while the men did the rest.  She didn’t know how far down the line Guered was, but she decided to wait for him.  If it came to a fight he was highly skilled and she knew none of the qualities of the other male slaves. 

 

“Shailaja, Vasanta, is that you?”  The voice came from the darkness. 

 

“It is,” Shailaja answered.  “Have you any notion as to where we might find weapons?  I know nothing of ships.”

 

“I suspect they are kept topside,” Guered answered, moving closer.  “Was it you who released us?”

 

“It was,” Shailaja replied.  “I thought to wait for you and then free those on the deck above us.  However, I do not wish to raise the alarm and they are much closer to the main deck.”

 

“I will go with you,” Guered asked.  “I know something of the languages of western Vedra.”  He spoke to some of the other men who had freed themselves; first in a language similar to that of Thar and then in another she did not understand. 

 

“I have told the men we plan to free those on the deck above us before we move against the crew and they have agreed to wait.  So far we are fortunate that no one has raised the alarm.  Reaching the main deck may present something of a problem as the hatchways are locked.”

 

“Yes,” Shailaja agreed.  She had already thought of that.  Being free meant very little if the crew could keep them bottled up below deck and deny them food and water.  Somewhere on the ship must be a place where the stores were kept.  She suspected it was behind the bulkheads at either end of the slave compartment as the space the slaves had been squeezed into was far too small to account for the full length of the ship. 

 

His explanation finished, Guered followed Shailaja to the ladder leading to the deck above them.  She located it without too much difficulty as she had stumbled into it on the way to free Guered and the other male slaves.  It was just a matter of fumbling her way back through the dark until she once again found the rungs of the ladder.  Then she and Guered climbed to the second level. 

 

Once there Guered spoke quietly to the slave on the end of the chain, explaining what they were going to do; then he whispered to Shailaja.  “How did you release the padlock?”

 

“I used this,” she answered, pushing the bent nail into his hand.

 

“Now I am even more impressed,” Guered commented.  “I had no idea you were so skilled.”

 

“I am not,” Shailaja confessed.  “If you can do better, you are free to try.”

 

“I do have some skill in that area,” Guered said modestly.  He applied himself to the padlock and in what to Shailaja seemed an astoundingly short time he had it open.  They then felt their way to the other side of the ship and released the women slaves. 

 

That left every man and woman below the main deck free of their chains, but they were in no way free of the slavers.  There was still the matter of making their way to the deck and seizing control of the ship, something that Shailaja had already determined was going to be more difficult to achieve than she had hoped.  While Guered was busy with the padlocks she had climbed the ladder to the deck hatch and found it firmly closed.  Somehow she had to find a way to open it or being free of her chains would be irrelevant.  However, she already had a couple of ideas.

 

The simplest was to simply wait until one of the crew opened the hatch.  If she was ready she could push her way to the deck before the unsuspecting crew knew what was going on.  With numbers on their side it would not matter if they had no arms they would simply overwhelm the crew and take possession of the ship. 

 

That optimistic plan, however, was shattered within a few heartbeats of the thought.  Up on deck a bell began ringing wildly and loud shouts showed that someone had determined that the several hundred slaves were no longer locked into their shackles.  These alarms were followed by the sound of running feet as the crew as the crew responded to the emergency.  There was now no easy way to the deck. 

 

However, Shailaja had another plan; one that made use of the large number of slaves.  There was just one problem; getting the other prisoners to accept her authority.  Nude and without weapons, Shailaja had only her imposing height and sheer physical presence to influence the other prisoners.  But she knew that they did not have unlimited time.  A shift in the angle of the deck told her that the ship had turned; no doubt heading back to the kingdom of the lizards. 

 

However, there was no way of convincing anyone of anything in the darkness of the hold.  She would have to wait until morning and hope that when she was able to se the other prisoners and they could see her, that she would be able to convince them to follow her plan.  In the meantime all she could do was explain her idea to Vasanta and Guered.

 

It turned out her decision to speak with Guered solved most of her concerns.  “It is a good idea,” Guered said.  “I will see what I can do to get things organized.”

 

Somewhat to Shailaja’s displeasure Guered somehow managed to organize the freed prisoners before morning.  “That bastard must have a tongue coated with honey,” Vasanta mused.  “But it is well that he has saved us the trouble of beating sense into the heads of this rabble.”

 

Shailaja had to agree.  Much as she hated to admit it, there was something about Guered that enabled him to convince others to do his bidding.  As the light of day began to filter through the gratings of the deck hatches her plan was ready to put into motion.

 

It was a simple idea really, which was why even the motley assortment of prisoners was able to carry it out.  Shailaja doubted that there were more than a half dozen warriors among the three hundred or so slaves packed into the hold, but their numbers more than made up for their fighting ability; and they also provided the muscle her plan required. 

 

The freed slaves dragged the four heavy lengths of chain that had been used to shackle them to the base of the ladders below the hatches that led to the main deck.  There were three of these hatches; one fore, one aft, and one amidships.  Shailaja climbed the centre one and pushing the chain through the grating pulled it back through and secured it using one of the padlocks.  The chain, which was already held by half the prisoners, was then pulled tight.  Heaving hard they put all of their strength into it in an attempt to tear away the locked hatchway. 

 

Had the members of the ship’s crew been alert to such a plan they could have stopped it easily simply by placing a square of canvas over the grating, but it had not occurred to any of them that the escaped slaves might have the imagination to devise a way out of the hold.  And once the chain was in place it could not be removed. 

 

While the crew was distracted by the efforts at the main hatch two more chains were secured to the fore and aft hatches.  Vasanta put one of them in place, and the other was fastened by one of the male slaves, a powerfully built man who handled the heavy chain with ease. 

 

With a crash the first hatch gave way and Shailaja clambered up the ladder.  She was faced by most of the crew, but within a few heartbeats there were two more grinding crashes as the other two hatches gave way.  It forced the crew to divide its defence, leaving a smaller number to face Shailaja.  It should have been enough if the men had been any sort of real warriors.  Shailaja was unarmed and she faced a dozen or so armed men, but they had never faced a Kaltaran warrior in battle before and were unprepared for the suddenness and the ferocity of her attack. 

 

Naked and still suffering the effects of seasickness, Shailaja was nonetheless possessed by the fire of battle.  She surged up the ladder, climbing as easily as if it had been a grand staircase.  The slaver standing closest to the opening took a cut at her head as she emerged from the opening.  He was armed with a heavy curved sword that would have split her skull to the chin if the blow had landed, but Shailaja caught his wrist and using her strength along with the impetus of her assailant’s body pulled him toward her.  The action served two purposes; preventing for a heartbeat any further strikes by the other men clustered around the opening, as such an action would have resulted in them striking their own comrade.  It also sent the man plunging down the open hatchway and into the bowels of the ship, the fall serving to render him out of action even if he had not landed in to midst of dozens of ex-slaves who quickly put him out of his misery.  But he did not fall with the weapon he had used against Shailaja.  She had twisted it from his grip as he fell, and now armed she charged into her enemies. 

 

The slavers must have thought themselves attacked by a demon as they backed away from her with cries of terror, as she whirled, clearing a space about herself with the edge of her sword while at the same time ripping open the throat of one of her adversaries and taking off the hand of another.  Realizing that the only chance she had against so many, she continued her attack, driving straight at the men closest to her.  They cut at her frantically with their swords, but she deflected one blow with her own blade, sidestepped another, and drove her left fist into the face of third man. 

 

By now the rest of the freed slaves were clambering out of the hatchway.  In spite of his wounds Guered was the next one out, and snatching up a sword one of Shailaja’s opponents had dropped he quickly entered the fray.  He was followed by several more men.  At the other end of the ship, Vasanta had emerged from the forward hatchway and was leading her band into battle while at the same time other freed slaves charged out of the aft hatch. 

 

It was all a bit too much for the slavers.  Abandoning any attempt to fight they fled for the stern castle, even the steersman deserting his post and joining the others.  It left the freed slaves in charge of the ship, with the minor problem of what to do about the captain and crew of the slave ship. 

 

Shailaja surveyed the situation.  They revolt had shed very little blood other than the few she had killed and wounded and few of the slaves who had been injured except in the mad scramble to the deck.  It seemed an overwhelmingly successful uprising.  However, the moment of triumph lasted only a few heartbeats.

 

“There’s another ship,” screamed one of the women.  “And it’s coming this way.”

 

Every head turned in the direction she was pointing.  And found that she had understated the situation.  Two ships could be seen moving toward them.  Shailaja’s keen eyesight detected the glint of metal indicating that these were more than just a couple of slaver ships coming to the aid of a stricken companion.  Behind the ships was the mountainous coastline of western Vedra and, Shailaja supposed, the port where she had been taken on board the slave ship.

 

The sight of the other vessel caused a minor panic among the other freed slaves.  Once again Narda’s voice was raised in angry denunciation of the uprising.  “I told you that we would be punished,” she shrilled.  “Surrender now and we might not be punished too badly.”

 

“I’ll tell you what,” Vasanta raged.  “You surrender.  “I will stand and fight.”  Typically, she acted as she spoke, striding over to the hulking woman.  Although still naked, she was no longer defenceless, holding a sword she had taken from one of the slavers.  Narda backed away from her, and snatched up a belaying pin. 

 

“Come no closer,” Narda warned, “or I’ll crush your skull.” 

 

Vasanta laughed and stepped forward.  Narda swung wide her club, but the Nahn princess ducked under the blow and using the guard of her sword, staggered the larger woman with a blow to the jaw.  Narda swayed and almost fell, but Vasanta caught her, twisted her right arm behind her and shoved her hard against the rail.  The impact pitched the woman half over the side and Vasanta helped her the rest of the way by lifting her heels and giving her a quick heave. 

 

“Your friends are over there,” Vasanta jeered, gesturing with the sword toward the approaching ships.  “Swim over to them if you wish to surrender.” 

 

Her violent act eliminated any more talk of surrender, but it did nothing to solve the problem of the approaching ships.  The vessel the ex-slaves now controlled was drifting without any control, its sails fluttering idly in the wind.  Just as important, Guered had found that before fleeing to safety the two slavers in charge of the steering oars had released them from their pinnings and dropped them into the sea.  Even if the ship could be brought under control there was no way of steering it. 

 

“It looks like we fight,” Shailaja said.  “Let’s see if we do something about getting hold of a few weapons.”

 

Still nude but brandishing one of the few swords, Shailaja moved toward the stern castle of the ship.  Inside was the captain and crew and she guessed the ship’s store of weapons.  It was simple matter to organize a few of the ex-slaves who were milling about the deck into a squad capable of battering down the door through which the crew had fled. 

 

Her actions against the slavers had given her a certain authority among the ex-slaves and she had little difficulty convincing several of them to help cut loose one of the spars and utilize it as a battering ram.  The fact that the heavy timber was important in the sailing of the ship seemed irrelevant since there was no way of controlling it. 

 

Maneuvering the heavy timber into position the team Shailaja had assembled swung it against the door to the captain’s cabin.  In spite of its solid construction the door lasted only a few blows before its planks splintered and it was smashed open.  That left the way clear for Shailaja to move against the demoralized defenders on the other side.

 

The narrow opening to the captain’s cabin forced her to go one-on-one against anyone inside, however, she quickly found that few of the slavers had the nerve to face her.  Within a few heartbeats they had thrown down their weapons and placed themselves at the mercy of those they had enslaved.

 

Unfortunately those they had enslaved were not inclined to be particularly charitable and within a few heartbeats of surrendering all of them joined Narda.  Shailaja was somewhat disturbed at so ruthless an action, but she was not particularly inclined to interfere on the side of slavers, and the action took place so quickly she could not have saved them all in any case.

 

Guered too was somewhat irked at the action.  “They might have been useful to us as hostages.  If those ships are what I think they are we will wish we had kept them.”

 

Shailaja looked toward the approaching vessels.  To her one ship looked pretty much like another, but even she could see that these ships seemed a little sleeker than the one she was on and they had raised platforms on the bows that resemble something with which she was familiar.

 

Her guess proved right as the ships moved even closer.  Catapults.  They don’t even have to close with us.  They can bombard us from a safe distance and we can’t fight back.  She made known her fears to Guered, who agreed with her.  But he did add one point she had not considered.

 

“I doubt that they will try to sink us,” Guered observed.  “The ship is worth much gold.  And each of us is valuable as well.  However, a few well placed shots with that a catapult will have most of our companions clamouring for surrender.”

 

“Don’t they fear punishment?” Shailaja asked.  She could full understand how the ex-slaves might not wish to fight, but surely after what they had done to the slavers they could expect no mercy if they were recaptured. 

 

“They fear death more,” Guered replied.  “And don’t forget that each of us is valuable.  If we are recaptured an example might be made of a few of us, but the rest will be spared so that they can fetch their proper amount of gold.”

 

It took little imagination to realize who would be singled out for punishment.  Shailaja and Vasanta were clearly the ringleaders in the slave revolt and she had little doubt that the other slaves would single them out if they thought it might in any way save their skins.  Her prognostication was proven correct a half turn of the glass later when the closest of the pursuing ships began to hurl heavy stone balls toward them. 

 

With their own ship drifting helplessly they were unable to flee or fight back and when one of the heavy stone balls slammed amidships, scattering splinters everywhere and injuring two of the men, most of the ex-slaves panicked, many heading below decks to where they had only recently been chained while still others shouted for surrender.

 

“This won’t do,” muttered Shailaja.  “They’ll keep it up until we surrender.”

 

She had little hope that any of the ex-slaves other than Guered and Vasanta might stand with her to fight.  Even organizing them would be difficult given the fact that she did not speak their language.  However, there was one who did and she quickly explained a spur of the moment plan to Guered.

 

“It might work,” Guered agreed.  “Not that we have much of a choice, given the circumstances.”

 

It took a quarter turn of the glass to implement, Shailaja’s plan.  Most of the involved finding enough men who would actually fight.  Fortunately, it turned out that there were a few warriors among the ex-slaves; enough to use the weapons they had taken from the slavers.

 

In all they ended up with around fifty men of dubious military skills, but they agreed to the plan Guered explained to them and took their positions as the warship that was bombarding them closed the distance. 

 

Her plan counted on the fact that the approaching enemy would expect the ex-slaves to act in a manner typical of those slaves they usually took captive.  In other words she hoped that they would expect the usual frightened and unresisting victims they favoured. 

 

Shailaja hid in the stern compartments of the ship with twenty-five men.  In the bow Vasanta led a similar number.  Completely at the mercy of the closing warships they could do nothing but wait and hope that their plan would work. 

 

Waiting, Shailaja had learned, was one of the most difficult of military skills.  With every instinct she wanted to rush out on deck and confront her enemies, but she knew that would be fatal.  She and her companions had no defence against the catapults of the enemy.  To show themselves would be to invite slaughter. 

 

And so they hid and waited, hoping that their ruse would lure the enemy close enough that they would have some chance against him.  Even that chance was slim.  The fighters Shailaja had gathered gave her little confidence.  It appeared that most of them had some knowledge of arms, but none other than Vasanta and Guered had the level of skill she possessed.  She would have to hope that their opponents would be unprepared for the ambush she had planned. 

 

As she crouched in the darkness of the captain’s cabin Shailaja noticed one little bonus associated with her recent activity.  Gone was the seasickness that seemed to plague her on every voyage.  She hadn’t been aware of it from the time she had freed herself from her shackles.  It was a welcome change and one she hoped would continue after she had defeated the slavers.

 

It did not occur to her that she would lose the battle.  Desperate as her situation was, she had never gone into any battle expecting to be defeated.  She would fight and she would win.  As the ship shuddered from the impact of the warship coming alongside the ship that hid her Shailaja readied herself for her surprise attack.

 

She waited until the thump of boots on the deck told her that the soldiers of the warship had begun to board before giving the signal.  The plan she had worked out with Vasanta and Guered was that they would allow a few of the enemy to get aboard and then attack before they had a chance to organize.  She would attack first, the sound of her battle cry signalling Vasanta. 

 

All things considered, it wasn’t much of a plan, but it was the best one she could come up with under the circumstances especially considering the quality of the forces she led.  She waited a few more heartbeats and then bursting through the door of the cabin, shouted her battle cry and charged onto the deck. 

 

There had been no time to find suitable attire and there was nothing aboard the ship that passed as armour so Shailaja was dressed as she had been when she seized the ship.  Whether it was her blood-curdling scream or the sight of a six-foot-six redheaded and nude barbarian charging across the deck toward them, the men boarding the slave ship froze as she charged toward them.  They gaped at her in stunned amazement as she reached the first of them. 

 

It took the death of two of them before they reacted and by that time Shailaja was well among them.  She had seen as soon as she emerged from the captain’s cabin that the foe she faced was both more numerous and better armed than the men who stood with her.  With some surprise she saw that many of those who had boarded the ship were the lizards who had taken her prisoner in the first place.  But that fact did not slow her attack.  Sacrificing her safety in order to deliver maximum impact she struck right to the centre of her opponents cutting to the right and left with her blade, each blow taking out an enemy.

 

The attack had the desired result, throwing her adversaries into complete disarray.  Confused by her assault the enemy soldiers slashed desperately at her, but Shailaja was not quite so easy to hit.  She carried in her left hand a belaying pin which she used to deflect several of the blows aimed at her.  In her other was the curved sword she had learned was called a cutlass.  It was a crude weapon, but well suited to fighting at close quarters.  She slammed the heavy guard into one warrior’s face and followed it up with an elbow smash into the helmet of the man next to him.  Both men went down and she hardly noticed the pain in her elbow as she deflected a sword cut aimed at her head and followed through with a slash of her own that took off the hand of the lizard that had struck at her.  As before the lizard proved hard to defeat and kept on coming at her until she drew her blade across its throat. 

 

The unexpected ferocity of her attack gave the others the time they needed to join the ambush.  One drawback of the places they had chosen to hide in order to stage their ambush was that each had only one small doorway leading to the deck.  Shailaja’s action cleared the way for them and they joined in the fray.  From the other side Vasanta and her followers joined in, catching the forces of the enemy between them. 

 

Expecting an easy victory over docile slaves the boarding party now found itself in a fight to survive as the ex-slaves drove in from both sides.  Still, it was a hard fight.  The soldiers were well trained and better armed.  Recovering from the initial shock they fought back hard and it was only the fact that the ex-slaves had Shailaja, Vasanta, and Guered on their side that carried the day.  Each of the warriors was worth a dozen of the others who fought on their side and they drove the enemy soldiers across the deck eventually reaching the boarding planks from the other ship. 

 

But they did not stop there.  Little as she knew about the sea, Shailaja had no intention of remaining in control of a ship that she could not steer and which was defenceless against warships.  Before the boarding planks could be withdrawn she leaped onto them and took the battle to the deck of the other vessel.  She was followed by Vasanta and Guered and what was left of the slaves who had joined her.  They had started out fifty in number, but had lost more than half; however, they were now joined by a few more ex-slaves from below decks, all eager to fight for their freedom now that they saw some chance of success. 

 

Now defending their own vessel, the soldiers and sailors fought even harder, but Shailaja, Vasanta, and Guered battled like demons, killing every enemy who came before them.  The decks soon became slick with blood of both friends and enemies, but there were soon more of the latter as the forces of the slavers were driven steadily backward.  Eventually the only space left to them was the castle in the bow where the catapult was housed.  They stormed toward it and then matters took an ugly turn.

 

The ship shuddered as the second warship arrived alongside the first sending many of the combatants sprawling.  Shailaja managed to retain her footing, but realized immediately that the situation had radically changed and not for the better.  Soldiers from the other ship swarmed over the deck completely turning the tide of the battle. 

 

Now it was Shailaja and what was left of her band that was caught between two attacking forces.  Backed up against the castle they were surrounded on every other side.  They were also exhausted from the intensity of the battle, but there was no thought of surrendering on Shailaja’s part.  During the fray she had picked up another sword and dealt death to anyone who dared come within range.  Unfortunately, the warriors attacking her had a solution to that danger.  Several were armed with long spears called boarding pikes.  These snaked toward her attempting to skewer her from a distance. 

 

Shailaja was hard press to fight so many attackers.  She wove an intricate web of steel in front of her deflecting attack after attack while at the same time slashing out at any attacker foolish enough to get too close.  But she could not block everything, especially a spear that was thrown from outside her closest adversaries.

 

She saw the movement of the warrior’s arm as he hurled his weapon and knew she could not avoid it.  She managed a half step to the side and the spear took her in her left shoulder.  She felt it grate against bone, but was so filled with the fury of battle she felt no pain.  Nevertheless, her arm went numb and her sword dropped from her fingers, exposing her to further attack.  A sword cut gave her a second wound in her thigh, and a reversed spear slammed into her temple. 

 

It was fortunate that the lizard delivering the blow had not sought to kill her, as it might well have done; but it seemed some of the attackers were intent on taking her alive, a humiliation Shailaja was desperate to avoid.  But it was not to be, as she staggered under the blow another of the lizard warriors engaged Vasanta.  She fended off the attack, driving her cutlass into its belly with such force that the tip of her blade tore out through its backbone.  However, the deadly thrust temporarily trapped her blade allowing the other warriors to close with her.  A blow from the flat of a sword sent her to her knees where she was quickly seized by several other attackers and wrestled to her knees.

 

Guered fared no better.  With his barbarian allies hors de combat, he was set upon by both sides.  Even his exemplary weapons skills could not hold off so many.  Like Shailaja he was first wounded, taking a sword slash across his ribs and then as he staggered back he was tackled and quickly disarmed. 

 

Shailaja battled with her usual ferocity and desperation as she was forced to her knees.  But she could do little against the overwhelming numbers that swarmed over her.  Once again her arms were forced behind her back and ropes bound tightly about her arms just above the elbows.  Once again she had battled for freedom and failed.  Once again she was enslaved.  Burning with shame and rage she could only wonder what punishment her captors would inflict upon her this time.

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