Skyrun

Chapter 26; The part of the story where things start to go wrong again.

The first man to come at Liam wielded a longsword.

With a cry he leapt forward, swinging his blade in a wide arc at Liam's head-- something the boy only just managed to dodge before his skull could be separated from his shoulders.

A good thing too, for it is rather hard to sword fight when one has no head.

Liam decided to make a note of that for next time.

Sidestepping the next blow that came at him, he lunged at his opponent, catching the man briefly across the arm and drawing blood before he sprang back once more.

'It's no good,' he thought suddenly with a sinking feeling growing in his gut, 'I'll have to do more than cut his arm.'

But what more could he do? Was he... was he expected to kill the man? He was not sure he was suited for such rubbish. And while he was certain that being a pirate required one to do these sorts of things, he did not much like the thought of taking the life of another.

Even if they would readily do so to him.

Thus, as he leapt about, blocking, defending and dodging all manner of blows from the other man, his mind raced wildly as he tried to think of what to do.

Blimey, what would Phillip do? What would Eliza do?

He snorted; Eliza would be smart enough not to get herself in such a situation and Phillip... Phillip would have done what ever it took to survive.

Liam was not sure he could be like Phillip.

Stepping back another pace, he hissed in pain as his enemy's sword neatly sliced his thigh, the blood from the cut gushing warm and thick down his trouser leg. 

Liam favored his other leg then, leaning heavily on it as he steadily began to advance, using the cutting techniques Tophsy had shown him.

Thrust, cut, uppercut, slash, cut. Over and over he went, slowly driving the other man back. 

From the corner of his eye, Liam glanced at Sinclair as he took on the other two men, his duel swords flashing brilliantly in the dying light of the evening.

Thrust, uppercut, slash, slash.

Again... again.

The fight seemed to last forever-- going on and on as Liam's muscled slowly grew heavy with weariness and his guard dropped ever so slightly. 

It was then that his enemy struck him twice more; once in the chest, the other across his cheek. Both deep enough to send a steady drip of blood running down Liam's sweat soaked skin, staining his clothes with a bloom of red. But just when Liam felt as thought he could no longer keep his arm up, the man swung his sword particularly hard, the blade crashing against his own cutlass with a horrific clang, sending the entire weapon hurling out of the boy's grasp where it skidded across the deck and came to a halt in the thick of a group of fighting men.

Liam paused, his gaze going from his fallen sword to the man standing before him, slowly advancing with a murderous look in his eye.

Well. This was a right mess, now wasn't it?

Leaping back, Liam stepped as far away from his opponent as he could without running into another pair of pirates fighting, and slowly raised his hands up, palms facing outward.

"Sinclair!" he shouted, "Now would be a jolly good time to step in with those swords of yours."

From across the deck where he was still fighting-- though with only one man this time, the other laying dead at his feet-- Sinclair gave Liam an annoyed look. "I'm quite busy. Can't this wait for another time?"

"See?" Liam's enemy hissed through rotten teeth, leveling the tip of his sword at the boy's throat, "You're friend can't save you now. The question is, do I kill you now or let you die slowly...?"

"SINCLAIR!"

With a roll of his eyes, Sinclair quickly thrust one of his swords through the throat of his opponent, then pulled a dagger from his belt and sent it spinning toward Liam's enemy before anyone of them could so much as blink.

Within an instant, both pirates were dead, their bodies slumping to the deck as blood pooled from them at an alarming rate.

Sighing, Liam brushed his fingers lightly against his throat, shuddering at what it would have looked like had Sinclair's aim not been true. 

Briefly, his mind flashed back to Malcom's body on the day he had been taken on the airship; he remembered it so clearly, the blood, the screaming, brought back into a razor sharp focus by the sights and smells all around him.

Sinclair has ended Malcom's life as easily as he had saved Liam's and with a sweep of a sword, he had altered fates as though he was one of the gods.

Liam shook his head, stooping down to retrieve the quarter master's dagger, the boy quickly rejoined the silver haired man in the midst of the fighting, handing his weapon back to him.

"Thank you for deciding to save my life." he said drily as Sinclair cut through a mass of thrashing bodies simply to get to Liam's borrowed cutlass, giving him an opening to grab the blade once more.

"Don't be so sure I'll do it next time."

"Please, you'd be lost without me."

Snorting, the silver haired pirate gave him a look before nodding his head at the frenzied fighting. "Shall we go back in?"

The words made Liam feel almost reluctant; true, he had not killed the man who had held the sword up to his throat, yet he still did not feel comfortable having to cause another living thing pain.

Not if he could help it.

As if sensing his reluctance, Sinclair frowned, adding slowly, "Or, perhaps you could journey belowdecks to scout out the cargo there. There might be less fighting if you're scared of that."

Liam bristled, his face flushing angrily, his blood growing hot. "I'm not scared! I just..."

"I know. Fighting like this... it's never an easy thing."

"You don't seem to mind."

Sinclair gave him an odd look then, his mismatched eyes almost sad, and for a moment Liam was taken back to the night the quarter master had told him of his past. The intimacy of it, the vulnerability he had shown-- it was much the as same now. 

Smiling slightly, the quarter master spoke in a voice barely above the heinous clamor of the fighting around them.

"Perhaps I do mind... more than you could ever know." his gaze flashed then, "You're friends' faces-- I never forgot them, you know."

Liam had, along with most of his old life. To him, Malcom, Phillip, Eliza, his parents... they were distant shadows of a past that had been stolen from him. Still, there was a part of him that did not want to forget. 

Along with a part of him that thought it was rather stupid to be talking of such matters in the middle of a battle.

Thus, nodding quickly, Liam turned away, indicating that the conversation was finished as he headed belowdecks to seek out what treasure it held. But as he wove through the crowd, the fighting slowly beginning to grow less and less, he glanced over his shoulder to see Sinclair still standing where he had been a moment before, a distant look still on his face.

'Idiot,' Liam thought, 'He's going to get himself killed.'

Yet no one touched him, almost as if there were an aura shielding him from harm... or perhaps most pirates knew never to interrupt another pirate when he was thinking in the middle of a battle.

It was terribly rude.

Either way, Liam did not stay long to stare at Sinclair, continuing to make his way to the belly of the ship, away from the fighting, away from the blood.

Away from the bad memories.

                                 .....................................