So, you came looking for the story of Captain Drebbin. My dear, it is not for the faint of heart, nor for the soft of mind. But then again, you are neither, are you? Yet, I cannot help but wonder why you elected this tale amongst so many others. May it be that you search for similarities between it and yours? Differences? Well, no matter. It is yours to do with as you please.
“How reliable was this captive again?” The view through the spyglass shook softly, his cold hands trembling. The moonlight scattered over the ripples in the endless water. There was no sign of their target. From their crow’s nest, all Yerdan could see was the rest of their own fleet. Seven ships bore only the essentials for combat, as a full hold could claim little loot.
Ornea scoffed. “You weren’t there. I’d never seen the captain so zealously picking a man apart. There’s no doubt that he was telling the truth.”
“Then why haven’t we found them, yet? We were supposed to be on our way back by now.”
“Stop being so… you know. It’s making me anxious. Think about all that gold that they’re taking to Orgestil. Enough to fill all our pockets twice over, and there’d still be plenty to spare.”
That was true. It would be their biggest haul yet. But that was exactly why he worried. What if they changed their routes? What if the diplomatic mission was cancelled altogether? What if–
“There,” Ornea screamed. Her wild curls danced on the salty winds, and her edged, pale face lit up. The hourglass tattoo on her cheek compressed into a square by her smile. “There it is!”
Yerdan raised his spyglass and aimed it towards where Ornea was pointing her crooked hand. She was right. A big galleon, three times the size of their own ships, sailed towards their fleet. It was finally here.
But then, two more sets of masts appeared on the horizon.
“Wait. Do you see that, Ornea?” Two smaller ships were escorting the war galleon.
“Yea,” she yelled as she tugged on his sleeve, motioning for him to follow her down from the crow’s nest. “They’re here. Signal the others, they’re here.”
Two hairy hands clenched Yerdan’s sides, plucking him from the nets and setting him down on the wooden deck. It was the captain. With his towering frame, he made it seem as if it required no strength at all. The captain brought his visage close to his. Lush and wild hair obscured most of the man’s scars. A grin ran across it almost connecting his glistening eyes. “This is it, Yerdan. This is what we’ve waited for. Are you ready? Fortune and gold and a name that will echo throughout the ages. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Captain Drebbin. I’ve been ready ever since you let me into your crew.”
“That’s my boy. Now, get your arse behind a ballista. We’re softening up the war galleon while the others take out its escorts.”
Captain Drebbin let go of Yerdan to speak to Ornea, surely instructing her not to accidentally set the galleon ablaze with her magic.
Yerdan ran towards the bow of the ship where two ballistae were anchored against the railing. He grabbed the crank and pulled while another sailor mounted the other ballista.
The rough wooden handles turned, driving the winch that drew the enormous arms backwards. A loud click signalled that the mechanism had locked in place. Yerdan snagged a bolt as long as a spear from the supply and seated it behind the ballista’s string, ready to be launched at the galleon. He climbed behind the machine and tested the aiming mechanism by rotating and tilting the contraption.
Meanwhile, the sails had been raised and the anchor weighed. They were moving.
By now, their target was aware of the impending raid. The escorts slowly veered away from the galleon, which itself also turned, possibly attempting to get away.
Yerdan was not worried anymore. Their fleet was light and fast. If it came to a pursuit, they would catch up quickly.
Ornea joined him. She had retrieved her staff from her hanging cot and now held on to it tight with her one good hand. The rod was simple. Little more than a stick made of scorched wood. But Yerdan knew better. He had seen her turn men to ashes.
“Are you ready, Ornea? Gold and glory?”
She conjured a small flame in her empty hand. “Oh yes.”
The galleon was almost in range of his ballista, and it was now facing them sideways. An easy target to hit. That was when he realised that the escorting ships that had first veered away from the war galleon had steered back. They were now coming to meet the fleet head-on.
Yerdan aimed the ballista. Only a few moments before he–
Something flew towards them from across the water. A large wooden bolt hit the ballista on his left, piercing the sailor behind it and launching him across the deck.
A loud crash. Splintered wood. Screams.