فصل 68

CHAPTER 68

THE ALARM

THE SCORPION LOOKOUT BLINKED: A piece of the cloud bank had broken free and was moving toward him. As he stared, the moving cloud took shape, fog spilling off…its sails.

A ship!

Instantly the lookout raised the conch shell hanging from his side. He pressed it to his lips and trumpeted the alarm; the sound echoed down toward the compound from the lookout’s mountainside post. He took a big breath and sounded it a second time.

From down the mountainside, he heard another lookout repeat the alarm. Then he heard shouts, and within a minute dozens of red-painted Scorpion warriors hurried out of the jungle and onto the beach, sprinting toward their war canoes.

The Scorpions had a simple strategy for dealing with sailing ships: strike immediately, and in overwhelming numbers. Some of the ships would shoot cannons—the Scorpions called them fire-throwers—but there were never enough cannons to stop all the war canoes. And once the Scorpions, with their deadly poison arrows, got close to the ship, the battle was over quickly.

The first canoes were already in the water, moving swiftly toward the ship; many more were right behind. The lookout smiled. He expected to enjoy the show.

Fighting Prawn heard the moaning of a conch shell reverberate down the lava-tube tunnel. He lifted his head to listen; it was not a Mollusk signal.

The sound was repeated, closer this time. The Scorpion guards were agitated, some of them shouting, seemingly unsure about what to do.

The guards fell silent as a large man strode into the cavern chamber. At first Fighting Prawn saw only a silhouette against the dim tunnel light, but as the man passed a torch, Fighting Prawn recognized the bone necklace, the red-painted face, the gleaming black eyes of the Scorpion leader. The leader surveyed the chamber, his eyes lingering an extra second or two on Fighting Prawn. What he saw, Fighting Prawn knew, was a bunch of exhausted, hunger-weakened slaves, their chief a beaten man, pounding rocks with bleeding hands. Fighting Prawn could feel the contempt in the Scorpion leader’s eyes.

The Scorpion leader said something to his men, speaking in harsh syllables. When he finished, five guards ran from the chamber. The Scorpion leader looked around again; then, after barking another command to the remaining guards, turned and strode back up the tunnel.

Fighting Prawn glanced left, then right. Five guards had gone; that meant that only five remained. The guards were strong men, armed with knives and whips. But now it was just the five of them, guarding about fifty Mollusk men and a few pirates—the only slaves still able to work. Many of his men, Fighting Prawn knew, were barely able to move. He prayed that at least some of them could still summon the strength, and the will, to fight. Because this was their only chance.

He gripped a rock and started to rise.

There were more than thirty canoes in the water now, with still more being launched: the Scorpions slicing skillfully through the waves, paddles flashing in the sunlight. Most of the canoes carried ten warriors, ready to put down their paddles and pick up their bows and arrows when they came within range.

The canoes were aimed, like waterborne arrows, straight at the ship. As the canoes drew closer, the ship began a slow turn to port, presenting its starboard side to the canoes. The Scorpions saw four cannons sticking out of the gun ports, a sight that caused them to whoop and shriek with delight. Four cannons, they knew, would have no chance of stopping the attack.

The forward canoes were almost within range. Some of the warriors set down their paddles and readied their bows. The war whoops were constant now; the ship was a fat, slow, inviting target. It would be an easy kill.