“We’re under attack!” came the call again from above with more concern.
My‑re followed Lady Sheila Greywand up the flight of stairs from below deck of the Nightie to the nighttime sky. She heard a multitude of feet behind her. The mass of Lord Protector rowers followed.
“Return to your posts!” My‑re ordered, pointing back to their oars.
Rao said, “The battle is joined. The Rirorni are not ones to-”
Sheila interrupted him. “Do as commanded.”
The Lord Protectors hesitantly went back to their stations.
As My‑re emerged onto the main deck, she took in everything instantly. The contingent of Primus warriors had backed significantly away from the railing, covered with lanterns and torch sconces for light, and formed a defensive circle. Captain Phetmolge operated the helm. Four plate armored shield warriors took a defensive stance around him. Silence encompassed the entire area. The only sounds were the burning wood crackling from the sconces. She smelled the burning oil from multitudes of lanterns.
“Report,” Sheila said just above a whisper.
Captain Darien broke from the ranks of Primus warriors and approached. “Lady Greywand. Two men have been taken and dragged overboard. I believe the first was Spymaster Edward. We are trying to determine the other.”
“By what manner?” Sheila asked.
“Unknown. The speed of it was incredible. Nothing was seen.”
In the distance, something significant moved through the water. The warriors tensed and gripped their weapons tighter, and their armor clinked.
My‑re looked to her light clothing and then to the heavily armored warriors. “Strip out of your armor, now!”
All heads turned to her with expressions of shock that clearly asked if she was mad.
A scream emanated from the navigation wheel. The blurred form of one of the plate armored shield bearers protecting Captain Phetmolge was swiftly pulled overboard by his feet. The source was unseen.
“Do as My‑re commands!” Sheila barked.
A mad scramble ensued, spurred on by the thought of being pulled overboard. Specifically, the armor dragging them to the bottom of the lake. Pieces of mail dropped like metal rain.
The defensive circle reformed. Darien reached to remove his helm but adjusted it and kept it in place. He patrolled the circle, reassuring the elite tower guard. “Eyes sharp protectors!”
“My‑re, take the position next to Captain Phetmolge,” Sheila pointed to where the Primus warrior was involuntarily vacated.
My‑re hesitated. What in the nine hells was Sheila asking her to do? A warrior vastly more skilled than herself didn’t last a moment against whatever dwelled in the water. What chance did she have? She didn’t even have a weapon with her. It was below deck. Sheila wasn’t asking her to help defend the captain but to be a meat shield. She wanted nothing more than to rush below deck, grab an oar, and row back to the Isle of the Eye.
“Go,” Sheila said. She clasped her shoulder, gave a squeeze of reassurance, and slightly pushed her to move. Sheila knew what she asked, and she understood My‑re knew it.
Moving up the stairs, like walking to the gallows, she saw Captain Phetmolge and the three Primus warriors. They gave her a nod. My‑re saw the remnants of deep scrapes on the deck left by the heavy, plate armored warrior being dragged overboard. His finely crafted broadsword lay near the broken and splintered railing. A weapon she knew how to use. She slowly moved toward it and crept down. Not wanting to show her head over the side, she ducked and stretched her hand. She lightly touched the hilt, grabbed it, pulled the weapon, and retreated toward the captain’s station.
Silence traveled along the ship. They all strained to see against the torches' brightness, night's darkness, and the surrounding thick mist beyond.
A series of dull echoes came from the water. Thud! Thud! THUD!
Rao emerged from below deck, bellowing, “It’s trying to break through the hull!”
“The perfect stationary target. This creature is intelligent and not some dumb beast. It is attacking where we can not reach it,” Sheila said more to herself. She approached the navigation wheel and said, “Get the Nightie moving. Maneuverability is essential.”
“What about saving Spymaster Edward and the Lord Protectors overboard?” Captain Phetmolge asked.
“The concern is saving the remaining Lord Protectors onboard.”
“Course?”
“Back to the Isle of the Eye.”