Free A Dream of Mortals (Book #15 in the Sorcerer's Ring) by Morgan Rice

to the
sails and oars, and Erec increased speed, taking aim for the closest ship, the
only thing standing between them and freedom, an Empire ship half ablaze, its
men shouting and struggling to put out the fires.
    “Single file!” Erec shouted to the other ships.
“Stay close behind me!”
    Strom echoed his command and got in line behind
Erec, and Erec watched with satisfaction as his fleet came in close behind him.
He knew it was their only chance. He did not need to run the entire blockade;
he just needed enough space to clear one ship. And then the others could follow
on his heels.
    He looked up and his heart pounded as the
blockade came closer and closer, now hardly twenty yards away…then ten…then
five. He knew the impact would be rough.
    “BRACE YOURSELVES!” Erec yelled.
    Erec grabbed the rail, bracing himself, too, as
the ship bore down on them.
    Erec was jolted, the entire ship shaking, as
they smashed into the Empire ship at a sharp angle. Erec’s entire ship rocked,
as did the Empire ship, each rocking back and forth, and for a moment, Erec wondered
if his ship would sink.
    But a second later Erec felt movement, and he
knew they had burst through. The Empire ship spun sharply, smashed out of the
way, leaving just enough space to clear between the ships.
    Erec, ship to ship with the Empire soldiers, so
close he could look them in the face, knew that he had to strike first. He knew
that if he tried to just sail right through, they would attack.
    “CHARGE!” Erec yelled.
    He wasted no time. He drew his sword, rushed
forward and leapt from his deck onto the Empire ship beside him, all of his men
letting out a battle cry and following close behind.
    Erec led his men as they charged across the deck
of the Empire ship, slashing Empire soldiers who turned his way, too late,
still struggling to put out flames. Slowly, the Empire soldiers realized what
was happening, and they turned their attention back to Erec and his men.
    Erec charged through the flaming ship, narrowly
avoiding the fires, as he fought Empire soldiers hand-to-hand. Their swords clanged
in the night, sparks flying, as Erec slashed one large Empire soldier after
another, all of them bigger than he, but none a match for his speed or skill.
One large soldier brought his sword down, Erec blocked, then he swung around
and cut him in two. The man fell, screaming, overboard.
    Erec did what he did best, killing one, two,
three soldiers at a time, none able to outfight him. No knight in the entire Ring
had ever been able to best him, and these Empire soldiers, as fine as they
were, were not of his caliber either. Empire soldiers fell by the handful, and Erec
did not slow, racing through the ship from stern to bow, his men behind him, clearing
the decks.
    Erec saw with satisfaction that Strom was
leading his own men to leap onto the Empire ship on the other side of the
blockade. Like his big brother, Strom charged fearlessly through the other
Empire ship, felling men left and right, moving like lightning. The Empire was
caught off guard: after all, no Empire commander would ever imagine that these
few ships would dare attack them.
    Yet as Empire soldiers rallied they fought back
fiercely, and with their superior armor and weaponry, they managed to kill dozens
of Erec’s and Strom’s men. It was a bloody, fierce, hand-to-hand battle amidst
the flames, and men’s screams filled the night.
    Erec saw the rest of the Empire fleet, each
ship packed with soldiers closing in from the corner of his eye and he knew
they were losing precious time. Soon they would be completely surrounded.
    Erec knew he had to do something quickly. He
quickly scanned the ship, spotted a huge metal anchor attached to a chain, sitting
on deck, and he had an idea.
    “The anchor!” Erec yelled out to Strom. “Destroy
the hull!”
    Erec ran to the anchor, grabbed its chain, swung
it high above his head, and then brought it down, smashing the deck, wood
shattering everywhere. A huge