The first of the signal flags, red saltire on a white ground, ran up the mast, rope humming like an angry hornet. The four coastal ships fanned out from behind the Eryngo, blocking the seaway. As we swung around rocks long since tumbled down from a shattered cliff, I saw the first of the pirate ships flying a scarlet pennant with a black snake twisting down its length. The shark at the beakhead below the bowsprit identified it as the Spurdog and it looked unholy imposing in these confined waters.

The deck was cleared but for Kellarin’s fighting men ready and eager for action. Guinalle joined me by the doors to the stern cabins while Allin perched on the broad treads of the ladder-like stair to the afterdeck. The wizard-woman’s eyes fixed on the slowly approaching vessel with burning determination. Longboats surged out from behind the Spurdog, each packed with pirates, blades cutting bright swathes in the sunlight. The oars dug deep into the water as the rowers fought the strengthening run of the tide.

“Gently,” murmured Guinalle.

“I know.” Allin’s attention was fixed on the raiders’ ship.

I held myself ready, for just what I couldn’t say. I had nothing to say and nothing to do.

The Spurdog’s longboats spread out like a pack of wolves intent on harrying some hapless deer but our flotilla was carefully placed to deny the pirates passage past us in one of the narrowest parts of the strait. Then the foremost longboat lurched abruptly as if it had hit a rock hidden beneath the dark water. The man with the rudder yelled rebuke at the man in the prow whose protestations were lost beneath cries of alarm as the boat shuddered again but there was no sound of wood grating on stone. The one behind it stopped dead in unyielding water while a longboat on its other side rocked violently from side to side, wale dipping beneath the water. Some struck out for shore as the boat sank, a few disappearing as the weight of blades and boots dragged them under the glassy waters. Others had no luck seeking help from their fellows. Hands reaching up were met with kicks and pommels smashing grasping fingers. Three or four men reached one longboat together but trying to haul themselves aboard all at once they overturned it, casting the entire complement into the water in a confusion of shouts and curses.

“They’re doing Shiv’s job for him.” I tried to see beyond the pirate vessel but it was impossible to get a clear view. No matter, not as long as we held all their attention to the front.

Allin was still intent on the Spurdog. Some sailors were casting ropes and nets over the sides, shouting at men struggling in the water. More crew were aloft, trying to rig sail but the canvas was fighting back, tugged this way and that by hostile winds, ropes snatched out of questing hands, billows snapping in all directions. We were sailing on a gentle breeze just strong enough to give us headway but the pirates found themselves attacked by their very own private storm. With a crack like a thunderbolt, the great stay cables that controlled the flex of the masts snapped. One lashed a man who fell screaming to the deck. Another pirate was snared in the rigging and strangled as he lost his footing. As more ropes snapped, the solid wooden pulleys and blocks swung like morning stars to smash flesh and bone. The raiders abandoned all thought of setting sail, hanging on like Poldrion’s demons to masts now swaying wildly and creaking ominously.

“There!” Guinalle pointed in the same instant as another shout from on high and the second signal flag shot up its lanyard, gold cross on a red ground. The pirates were sending in their second ship.

“Ready, Allin?” I stood beside her. The Thornray came forward cautiously, trying to evade the unnatural squalls plaguing its dock mate.

Allin was scanning the masts and forecastles of both hostile vessels. As I heard the first evil chirrup of an arrow, her hand shot forward. Gouts of flame flared in the air as arrows ignited, the acrid stink of burnt feathers drifting in the still air as the metal heads pocked the sea with a rash of stifled hisses.

“Crossbows,” I warned her as a bolt thudded into the Eryngo’s main mast. I spared a thought to hope Temar had the sense to keep his head down.

Allin laced her fingers tight together. Men on our ship ducked as crossbow bolts knocked astray from their aim still came clattering in hard enough to do damage. One went skittering down the deck beside us, glowing red hot to score a charred line on the planking.

Wizardry or just chance swept a sheaf of blazing arrows back into the Spurdog’s sails. “Come on, Allin,” I encouraged her. “You know what you have to do.”

Her plump face twisted in distress but the heavy, salt-laden canvas still went up like gossamer swept into a candle flame. Rags of searing fire fell away to set other sails alight. Flames ran the length of the rigging like fire devouring a spill of lamp oil. Spars cracked and flared and the iron bindings holding the upper lengths of the main mast together melted in the inferno that was the crow’s-nest. Gouts of molten metal fell to kill men on deck instantly and then the whole section toppled, felled like the mighty tree it had once been in some distant forest. Crashing backwards, it wrecked the aftmast, the deck of the sterncastle disappearing beneath a murderous crush of wood and sail.

A precisely tailored tempest now wrapped around the Thornray and shouts from the ship took on a new urgency as the Dulse and Fire Minnow swung round for the gravel strand where the plundered Tang and Den Harkeil’s barque were drawn up. The Nenuphar and the Asterias backed the Eryngo in a solid blockade, Vithrancel’s archers ready to pinion any remaining longboats struggling back to the landing.

The Spurdog was burning with a furnace roar and, with the Thornray helpless, the pirate vessels drifted apart. I thought I glimpsed something akin to heat haze wrinkling the air beyond. No matter. I had more immediate concerns as the Fire Minnow and Dulse prepared to send Ryshad and Halice’s forces ashore to do battle with the pirates. An ominous force was gathering among huts and palisades built with the blood and tears of their hapless captives.

Allin took a resolute breath and magefire leapt from the Spurdog to the Thornray. The masts caught light like trees in a wildfire and her crew began jumping, despairing into the water, some burning as they fell.

“No!” Guinalle was ashen with horror.

“This is battle.” Thinking she was going to faint, I caught her arm.

“They have Artifice, my lady, they have Artifice! I don’t know who but they use it to kill.” To my astonishment, Parrail’s frantic voice echoed inside my head. “Anyone forsworn chokes on their oath. They’re trying to find your mages, I can hear them searching. They’ll kill any wizard they can reach.” He was gabbling and his anguish seared my mind like an unexpected scald.

“Stop your magic,” I yelled at Allin. “Now!” We couldn’t have her reduced to a barely breathing corpse by hostile enchantments.

She stared at me, bemused.

“They’ve aetheric magic seeking you,” gasped Guinalle.

Even Allin’s high colour fled at that. “We have to warn the others.”

I looked beyond the now blazing Thornray again but still could barely see more than shimmering haze. “How?” We’d agreed signal flags for every other contingency but who’d expected this?

“I’ll bespeak Usara.” Allin found a ragged tuft of bandage in her apron pocket and caught up a scored metal cup that had held some wound salve.

“You’re too easy to attack,” I objected.

“We can armour her with Artifice.” Guinalle’s face was set as stone and she grabbed my hand. “Just follow my lead. Remember when we worked Artifice together against Kramisak.”