Free Rising Tide by Mel Odom

scared and shivering in the bottom of the skiff.
    “Haul away,” Jherek yelled up to the men manning the skiff’s lines.
    They started pulling at once, bringing the small craft up. They alternately railed against him and congratulated him on his success in saving the girl. The general consensus seemed to be that he’d gone insane, and everyone knew the gods favored those too stupid to save themselves.
    Jherek didn’t wait for them to tie the skiff off, knowing Cowey would take care of his charge. The young sailor leaped up and caught the hauling ropes and climbed. Level with the cog’s railing, he swung his body out and landed lithely on the deck.
    He scanned the opposite railing, seeing Finaren and the ship’s crew hard pressed to defend against boarders. Despite the difference in height between the cog and the manta, the sahuagin attacked viciously.
    “C’mon, you sea dogs!” Finaren bellowed at the rigging crew. “Butterfly’s no pig to be wallowing in the trough! Make her fly or I’ll have the hide off your backs when we get to Velen!”
    The ship’s crew reacted to their master’s voice. Wind cracked in Butterfly’s sails, creating distance from the sahuagin manta. The Amnian passengers stood balled up in the ship’s prow, protective of their own circle.
    Jherek raced across the pitching deck, pausing only long enough to take the cutlass and hook Hagagne “offered. He had no special weapons, comfortable with any that found their way into his hands. Malorrie had seen to it that he was trained in a cross section of them.
    “Glad to see you made it, lad,” Hagagne stated with relief as he fell in behind. “Thought I’d never see you again after you diving into them sharks like that. You do it again, though, you better hope them sharks have at you. I’ll chomp on you myself if they don’t.”
    Jherek ran the cutlass and hook through his work apron strap, then took the short bow and quiver of arrows Hagagne offered. He was one of the better archers among the crew.
    “Hawlyng!” Finaren yelled.
    “Aye, Cap’n,” Hawlyng responded.
    “I’ll want to be using that fire projector today, Hawlyng!”
    “Aye, sir. I’ve got ‘er up and ready. Just you say when.”
    “Now!” Finaren howled. “I’m up to my arse in these damned deep devils!”
    Jherek stepped to the railing as the crew made room for him. He notched an arrow to the string as he surveyed the manta coming around. The sahuagin clung to the sides as well as manning the oars. Their scaled bodies writhed in the effort of propelling their craft along with the oars. With the darkening sky full of storm clouds, they were crouched in shadow, but Jherek could easily spot the silvery eyes that haunted many sailors’ dreams.
    A sahuagin drummer stood in the prow, croaking out a rhythm. Jherek recognized it as serving the same purpose as a drum beater on a trireme. Flaming arrows from Butterfly’s crew fell into the water and occasionally sunk home in the manta, creating bright spots of yellow flame against the darkness as they flew. When they hit the sahuagin craft, the oarsmen pulled back from the fires, but one of them would always fin a wave of water over it and put it out.
    “You get that girl back?” Finaren asked.
    “Aye.” Jherek smoothed his wet hair back from his face, getting the measure of Butterfly’s lunges across the uneven ocean. They were rising and falling little over fifty paces opposite each other, but at the distance, that fifty paces stretched out even further, making shots difficult.
    “Good,” the captain growled, “but that was a damn fool thing you did.”
    “I couldn’t let her drown or get eaten by a shark.”
    “You ever stop and think you ain’t got much choice in some of those matters, lad?” Finaren sounded angry, hotter than Jherek had ever heard him.
    Irritation and insecurity stung the young sailor at the same time. “You mean you think it’s possible the sahuagin out there are going to take