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Back and forth.

Back and forth.

The Twilit Sapphire rocked back and forth slowly and creaked, groaning in protest as it rolled over the inky black waves. The moons Helos and Xulu were high, casting very little light on the world below. Their thin crescents were barely enough to illuminate the wake rippling behind them. Slowly, the ship rocked.

Back and forth.

Kheron knew his little schooner better than the back of his own hand, as it was said. His hands held tightly to the helm and his feet remained planted. The ship pitched to and fro. Back and forth. Their lights were out. The crew moving as quiet as possible. The ship creaked. The waves lapped against the hull. Far ahead of them, a tiny little light bobbed on the blackness.

The other ship was still very far off, but the brig was running at half sail before the sun went down. They were taking their sweet time. And they were running low in the water. The elf's grip tightened on the damp wood of the helm. He licked his lips and his heart started pounding in his chest. He took a deep breath and the corners of his mouth curled upward. The sun would be up soon and that tiny little spec was going to get a whole lot bigger.

He lifted a boot slowly and hesitated, his knee bent at a near ninety-degree angle. They had to be careful. Sound carried very well on the calm sea. The wind was blowing, but it wasn't howling. And it was at their back. Stomping would give them away. He lowered his foot slowly until it was half way down his calf.

Tap tap-tap tap tap.

He thumped his leather sole against the back of the deck, what stood as a quarter deck on the small vessel. As quietly, and as quickly as they could, his crew began to shuffle, feeling about the rigging and mast. The signal had been given. They were getting the ship ready. He was going to wait until he couldn't hear nearly as much scurrying and shuffling.

It was hard to distinguish what was his crew and what was the ocean waves. The sloshing and scuffing blurred together, becoming so mixed and mingled that more than once he was about to lift his foot again before another shift of movement above along the rigging stilled his movements. The faint light of the moons and stars was barely enough to make out his crew suspended high above. But the sun was coming up, coloring the eastern horizon and the continent thereon.

Then they stilled. He lifted his foot and thumped it two more times on the deck.

The sail fell heavily into place. The crew worked with much more haste to secure it. They tied it down, rigged it to full and in an instant it snapped taut. Kheron slightly bent his knees as the ship lurched. He maintained his footing as the ship picked up some speed. The blackness around them began to grow lighter.

The sun began to color the world. Clouds appeared in the sky burning with morning fire. The ocean waves sparkled and glittered, reflecting embers from the deeps. In the distance ahead of them a bell tolled, frantic and fearful.

“Hear that?" he called to the half dozen men on the deck and still perched in the rigging. “Our prize has seen us." The captain smirked, brushing some of his dark hair from his face. “Without a doubt, they are watching us, trying to figure out if we're friend or foe." A wide grin spread across his face as he stared past the mast at the ship beyond frantically trying to draw full sail.

“Why don't we give them something to look at? Hoist the colors. Run up the black!"

The crewman atop the mast gave a whoop and the deck erupted with activity. Aloft, the upper most crewman attached a flag of darkest black in the center of which a white skull overtop of crossed bone and cutlass. Kheron watched the tattered flag flap in the wind for a moment then then looked forward at his crew. “Ready the ballista and grappling hooks! She's going to run, but she's running low. She won't be running fast."

The captain wrung his hands against the helm, his heart pounding in his chest like a hurricane's thunder. He had done this dozens of times, but it never got any less exciting. The danger of it. The adrenaline that rushed through his veins at the idea of not only the riches sitting deep in that ship's hull, but the idea he might not even survive to spend it.

It was hard to imagine, death. Going to the celestial to meet the Goddess. But he knew it was always there, lurking on every prize. Waiting to take the unfortunate souls whose time had come. Would this be his time? The same question that rang every time they ran down a prize rang true in his head again.

The brig was moving but as he'd said, it wasn't moving fast. Her hull was sitting too low in the water. Even at full sail, the ship was plowing through the waves while the Sapphire glided along, almost skipping from wave to wave. It was the reason he liked the little ship instead of a brig or anything larger. She had enough room for one weapon and not a lot of cargo, but she could really move.

The smaller crew size also made things easier. Smaller numbers meant larger shares.

“Here she comes, lads!" he cried as the brig drew close enough that they could make out the hair color of each of the sailors. A small trade ship, bound for Ithica. Each of the men on the brig was human and each wore the same white and blue uniforms of the High Ithica Trading Company. Word must have gotten around that their ships were easy game, what with turning a warship like that brig into a supply vessel.

Another bell tolled on the brig and her captain began shouting orders. The ballistae on the upper deck turned as the crew swiveled them around to face the opposing ship on the starboard side.

“Aim ballista to starboard side! We'll take her aft weapon first!" Kheron yelled as he spun the wheel. The ship veered left, turning straight into the brig's stern. It was going to be close. He was sure they'd make it. Vault, this might just be his time and they'd hit the prize full on. The captain's fears never came to fruition. They came very close, but the little schooner zipped past, bouncing on the brig's wake.

He grit his teeth as he spun the wheel back the other direction, coming up on the brig's port side. Already the human crew was struggling to turn the ballistae around to face them.

“LOOSE!" Kheron yelled. With a loud -thwack- the ballista sent its missile spearing outward. With practiced precision, the large bolt struck its target. It slammed into the rear ballista's left arm and shattered it. The tension exploded and the weapon flipped into the air.

Kheron would have liked to have seen it land on the other one, but it thumped uselessly against the mast instead.

The forward ballista was being settled in its cradle and the weapon crews were already starting to take aim.

Kheron once again spun the wheel, veering to port quickly. Behind them as they circled away, he heard the brig's ballista snap forward. A moment later, a heavy splash ruptured the water in their wake.

He grinned, bringing his ship around in a wide arc that brought them up behind and on the brig's starboard side. The Sapphire could run circles around any ship in the High Ithica Trading Company, he wasn't afraid of their deck mounted weaponry.

Of course the problem was not only did the brig's crew have to turn their ballista around, but so did Kheron's crew. Thankfully, with their maneuverability that problem had arisen some time ago. Their ballista was on a turntable, of sorts. It still took a great deal of effort, but the transition for turning from port to starboard was much quicker, not to mention how easy it made aiming.

“Ready ballista!" he yelled, watching his men load a spear into the weapon as another pair drew back the rope that would fling the missile. “We're going to hit that ballista and board! Get ready to loose the sail! Ready grapplers!"

While six men was not an ideal number, they were all people he trusted. Two of them were also elves whose reflexed more than made them a match for humans and most angels. Three were in fact angels, and very much the reason Kheron said 'most angels' when discussing his elvish crewmates capabilities. The last crewman was a man he'd known for a very long time. Gruff and haggard, he'd been tried and tested over the course of his time serving with Kheron. A fine bunch of sailors he knew were more than capable of taking the prize.

“Loose the sail!" He yelled. Above, the two crewmen waiting for that order quickly cut the ropes holding the canvas taut. The fabric flapped uselessly in the wind and already they began to lose speed.

“Loose ballista!" Before the deck mounted weapon even shot, Kheron drew his cutlass and moved to the port railing of the quarter deck. “Hooks away! Drag them down to the Vault, boys!"

The ballista thwacked and the spear soared quickly outward. Kheron watched it slam heavily into the side of the brig's ballista. It didn't destroy the weapon, but it had struck with enough force to shove the engine off of its cradle, leaving it lopsided and immobile.

The crew flung their grappling hooks through the air and took hold of the brig's starboard railing. As heavy as she was, Kheron knew there was no way they would be pulling their prize toward them, but that didn't matter. They would just be dragging themselves up against their prize. Either way, she was ripe for the picking.

As soon as the vessels were close enough, Kheron bolted. He sprinted toward the railing and leapt up. He sprang off of the Sapphire's railing and soared onto the brig's upper deck. He landed in a crouch both to let his momentum carry him into a much more comfortable roll and because he'd leaned in the past that most sailors liked to try and hack him in two as he landed.

This time was no different. He rolled along the brig's deck as the steel blade of a cutlass whistled above him harmlessly through the air. As he came back onto his feet, he spun and slashed at his would-be attacker. His sword and coat flew out in a deadly arch. As the momentum tangled his dark coat around him, his sword bit into meat and bone. With a strangled cry, blood spattered against the sailor's white uniform and he fell onto the deck.

The other six of his men leapt onto the brig with him, yelling and howling at the top of their lungs as they cut down the demoralized sailors. Kheron didn't have time to watch. A pair of sailors were jogging down from the quarter deck to face him, swords drawn and lips pulled back in a sneer.

Kheron sprinted forward and slammed his weight into the first man, knocking the wind out of him and shoving him to the side. He had just enough time to raise his cutlass and catch the second man's sword with the flat of the blade. He pushed the man's sword away and lunged forward.

His heart pounded in his ears, drowning out the ring of metal against metal. Red ate at the edges of his vision as the sailor mustered a defense. Beside him, he was acutely aware of the first man recovering and rising to his feet. Two on one wasn't odds he liked, but it was nothing that gave him pause.

He grabbed the first man's collar and twisted around. With all of his strength, he gave the poor sailor another strong shove, this time into the second man. Together, they grunted and stumbled back. Kheron rushed after them, pressing his advantage. As they stumbled against the railing, he lifted his foot and shoved the sole of his boot against the two white coats. He was unsure which of the two was which anymore.

It mattered very little. They yelped as together, they tumbled over the railing and bounced off of the hulls of the two ships thumping against each other. Judging by the lack of a splash, Kheron guessed that they got lodged between the hulls. Crushed to death, if they were lucky.

He didn't have the time to spare in order to peak over the side and see. He spun and took the stairs up onto the quarter deck two at a time. As he bounded over the last one, he raised his sword, the tip pointed straight at the heart of the man standing at the helm.

He had more gold buttons and frill on his coat than the others. And a big hat. The captain, Kheron knew from past prizes.

The High Ithica Company captain drew his sword slowly but didn't rush to meet Kheron. Especially not when the rest of his merry men ran up the stairs to stand at his back. The human's eyes were frantic, disbelieving. “Six men? Not possible…"

“That's right," Kheron said, pressing the tip of his blade firmly against the front of the captain's coat. “Six men. And you, captain, have a choice to make, don't you?"

“And what choice is that?" he asked in a small voice.

Kheron grinned and pulled his sword away. “Well that's simple." He sheathed his cutlass and folded his arms over his dark coat. “You can either help us load the cargo from your ship onto our ship… or you can refuse to help and try to swim back to shore. It's probably a few leagues, though. Sharks. Merfolk. All manner of nastiness."

“I think I'll take my chances. You'll just kill me when I've finished helping you move our cargo."

“Kill you?" the elf captain asked. “No, no! Leave you here for someone to find you, more likely. Unless you cause trouble, I see no reason to kill you." He quirked a brow and tilted his head to the side. “This is a well-traveled trade route. I'm sure someone will be along eventually."

“Not if you take all of my cargo!" the human spat.

“Look at my ship," Kheron said, japing a thumb over his shoulder. “Do you really think I can fit all of your cargo in her hold?"

The human seemed to consider, then reconsider, then reconsider again. His eyes darted from each of their faces to the schooner then back to Kheron again. “Very well," he said, then turned and made his way toward the stairs blocked by the rest of Kheron's crew.

With a nod from their captain, the six of them parted and stepped aside, allowing their captive to descend onto the main deck. Kheron watched him head for the hatch in the center of the ship then stop.

“You might be disappointed with what you've killed so many of my men for."

“We'll see," Kheron said as he stepped down to stand on the opposite side of the hatch. He stared at the white-clad captain then nodded to his men who pried the hatch up and disappeared below.

A moment later, cries of bewilderment and disapproval called up to them. All the while, Kheron stared down the human captain across from him. When one of his men, the grizzled human, emerged from the hatch, he finally looked away and quirked a brow. “What's all the commotion, “Sorenson?"

The human scoffed and held up a sealed wine bottle. “Crates of the stuff. Barrels. Casks. Pallets. Cheeses and wine. No money. No gold bullion. Not even steel or Alsilrite."

Kheron's eyes drifted upward, staring with as much an icy demeanor as he could manage.

“I told you that you'd be disappointed."

Struggling not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, Kheron lifted a finger and jabbed it at the captain. “Equal shares wine and cheese. Equal portions of each type. Store them in the hold of the Sapphire." He hummed thoughtfully, as if he was seriously considering the numbers. The math was simple enough. Make the captain think, make him wonder about whether or not Kheron might just take all of the cheese and leave him with no food.

“Make it fast," Kheron finished at last.

The human nodded and disappeared below deck with the other five nonhuman sailors.

Kheron finally smirked and held his hand out to Sorenson when the aged human climbed back up on deck.

“What do you think, Cap'n?" the grizzled man asked, handing over the bottle of wine.

Smirking, the elf pulled the cork out with his teeth and took a heavy drag from the container. The sweetness washed over his tongue and soothed his dry throat. As always it did. He licked his lips and hummed pleasantly. He handed the bottle back to Sorenson and shook his head. “We take it. Sell it. Equal portions of each make us look like legitimate traders."

Sorenson nodded his agreement and took a swig from the bottle. “Sounds like a fine idea."

Kheron took back the bottle and gave a small laugh. “Followed her for two days. Hull's fat with cargo. Slow and low in the water." He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Cheese and wine."

“It is getting close to the solstice."

“That it is." He smirked, watching the human captain and the rest of his crew emerge with barrels and crates, just as Sorenson had promised. “Suppose some celebrating's in order?"

“Suppose so, Cap'n."

His heart finally stopped pounding in his ears. “When we get to port and offload the cargo, you and the crew can celebrate all of the life and fertility you can handle."

“What about you?"

Kheron smirked and took another swig of the sweet whine. “No rest for the wicked."