DANTAR
Dantar had taken the warship Invincible for granted until it sank. It was solid underfoot,
it provided meals, and he had a place to sleep. In a sense, it was like a village, except that it floated and visited villages in other kingdoms. Now it was gone, except for a few bits that broke off before it sank. Dantar was clinging to one of those bits.
The battle in which the warship had been sunk was still raging. Thick clouds of acrid smoke drifted over the water, but Dantar did not mind. Breathing smoky air was much better than trying to breathe water. The only ships that he could see were burning, or had been rammed and boarded by the Savarians, so there did not seem to be any point in trying to reach them.
Bodies from the Invincible floated around him, most blackened by fire. Seagulls were already taking the opportunity to have an easy meal, and Dantar was trying hard not to think about sharks. A seagull landed on his head.
‘Shoo! I’m not dead yet!’ he cried, batting the gull away.
Clashing blades, roaring flames and screams of pain reached Dantar across the water, along with the squabbling of the gulls. Whoever wrote all those books about heroes doing valiant deeds in great battles had never been in one, he thought. I should write about what really happens if I live through this. A wave hit him in the face, sloshed up his nose, and made him retch. His eyes stung and snot dribbled from his nostrils. I’m not feeling very heroic. Does trying to stay alive count as desertion?
Dantar noticed someone swimming amid the floating bodies. He called out and waved before he realised that this was not a very clever thing to do. The swimmer might be an enemy Savarian, and he would probably want Dantar’s piece of the Invincible.
Captain Parvian was not easily recognisable with his hair drenched and his face blackened, but his voice had not changed. ‘You – what ship?’ he called, waving a leaf-blade dagger above his head.
‘Invincible, Captain,’ Dantar replied. ‘I’m Dantar, navigator’s assistant, just been flogged for insolence.’
The captain swam the last few yards to Dantar’s piece of wooden wreckage that no longer resembled anything.
‘What a shambles,’ said Parvian. ‘Lucky my father taught me how to swim.’
‘Very good, Sir.’
‘I never thought it would come to this. Captain of a piece of floating wood, armed with a dagger, and commanding one junior officer.’
‘Any orders, Sir?’
‘Yes. If you see a Dravinian ship that’s not on fire or sinking, swim for it. I’m the admiral now, and I had the general retreat flags flown and sent out the oversight birds with the same message before the Invincible sank. We may still get away alive with help from Lady Fortune.’
Dantar looked around for a ship, but the smoke was too thick.
‘What happened to my father?’ he asked.
‘Calbaras? No idea. Can he swim?’
‘I think so, he taught my sister.’
‘Well then, he has a chance.’
Dantar heard the boat before he saw it – the splash of oars and the creak of timbers. Parvian pointed to a dark shape in the smoke.
‘Gigboat,’ said Parvian. ‘The Invincible had three, perhaps one got launched.’
‘Here!’ shouted Dantar, waving a hand above his head. ‘Over here. Help!’
Parvian clamped a hand over Dantar’s mouth.
‘Shush!’ he hissed. ‘Damn, too late, they’re turning. Something isn’t quite . . . Swan’s head! I can see a swan’s head.’
‘Sir?’
‘Savarian fishermen have the head and neck of a swan carved on the bows of their boats for good luck. They’re out here already, looking for rich officers to hold for ransom.’
‘What should we do?’
‘Swim for that tangle of rigging behind us, we can hide there.’
‘I can’t swim!’
‘I’ll tow you.’
‘No, no, wait,’ said Dantar, thinking quickly.
‘The Savarians only know one of us is here. You swim away, I’ll let myself be caught and I’ll say I was alone.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Because you’re important, and you might yet save what’s left of our fleet.’
Parvian thought for a moment. ‘That’s very brave of you, but they may kill you for being worthless,’ he warned.
‘I’m wearing a navigator’s crystal; that marks
me as an officer, and worth ransom.’
‘Good point. You have my thanks, for what it’s worth.’
Parvian turned, submerged without a splash, and swam away beneath the surface. Dantar began kicking his legs, pushing the piece of driftwood along as if trying to get away. The Savarian gigboat came straight for him, and a net was flung over him and his piece of driftwood. He turned in the net in time to see a boathook descending.