The Vanishing Isle

Bromm only hoped that he and his crew could deliver. The White Shepherd was close by now, and Rayada left her sisters to circle while she and her wingmate brought Bromm down lower. The deck broke out into a mad scramble, the ship's bell ringing wildly in alarm. Bromm hoped they weren't show down as they approached. Rayada brought them in low over the water, swooping quickly up from the water to carry him just over the gunwale onto the quarterdeck where he thudded to the ground, just barely keeping his footing.

"Captain!" Sahat cried, holding his shamshir in one hand and a boarding axe in the other, "What's happening?!"

"A truce, Sahat. Lower your weapons." The crew did as ordered, but relaxed little. Rayada and her friend perched in the rigging, the object of curious and lusty stares from the crew. "The crew ashore has been ambushed by minotaurs. The harpies will help us free them, but they need weapons. Firelocks, shot, and powder."

"And you agreed to give it to them?" Sahat asked suspiciously. His eyes went to Rayada, perched naked above them on a spar with her knees upraised. The harpy coolly looked down upon him, her long hair blowing in the breeze.

"I did," Bromm replied. "We need their help to have any hope of rescuing the others. And they won't have long to use them against us, this whole island will disappear with the coming moon."

Sahat said nothing to that, but slowly nodded. "Very well. We'll dispatch another shore party to prepare a stronghold on the beach. Break open the armory! The harpies need weapons and shot to go with them!"

His crew quickly piled up firelocks and shot on the deck and the circling harpies flew down in pairs to retrieve them. Bromm waited on the quarterdeck with Rayada, who was soon joined by another of her sisters. They exchanged words in their strange tongue for a moment, then the newcomer flew off.

"They've located your companions," Rayada said when the other harpy had gone. "They are camped on a rocky butte near the gorge, but the Brolkarai have them surrounded."

"That's likely the butte where we stopped to survey the terrain," Bromm said. "Come on, we have little time to lose. I'll get them out of there before someone tries something stupid. Sahat, pull up anchor and come down the beach to those buttes on the horizon. We'll shorten our trip a bit."

"Aye, aye, captain. You'd best be going now, while there's still anyone left to save."

Accompanied by her companion, Rayada swooped down from her perch and snatched up Bromm by the arm again. They flew straight away from the ship, making for the butte in a direct line. Bromm hoped they would hurry, for his arms were beginning to ache from the strain.

As they neared the butte, he could make out figures atop it. They were clustered around the interior face of the butte in a crescent. A white puff of smoke signaled a battle.

"Hurry!" he cried, "they're under attack!"

Rayada did not seem to hear him over the wind whipping through her ears, but the harpies were flying no slow pace. They swept in from the opposite side unnoticed and deposited Bromm onto the clifftop, then Rayada and three other harpies landed at his side. Bromm looked about at their makeshift camp. A shallow firepit had been dug, and packs were strewn everywhere. All his men were concentrated on the interior side, waiting with firelocks ready.

"Your captain returns!" he called out, and they turned with shock. At the sight of the harpies standing by his side, they hastily readied their weapons. "No, don't shoot! They're with me!" he cried. Faces contorted in confusion, they cautiously lowered their weapons. Lukodo stepped forward, and Bromm breathed a sigh of relief.

"How?" he wondered. "How did you escape?"

"The harpies," he said, indicating his saviors. "It's a story for another time. We must get back to the ship right away, for reasons that don't bear going into right now. But we must move."

"How are we going to that?!" Urgan roared as he emerged from the crowd. Bromm could only groan internally. "We're trapped here, no thanks to you!"

"Me?!" Bromm retorted. "I didn't pick this spot!"

"You led us off into the forest, right into an ambush! Again!"

"You ran away!" Bromm countered. "If you had not run, we could have beaten them, ambush be damned!"

"I ran from certain death!" the dwarf shouted back through a face contorted with rage. "I escaped your blundering for the second time and lost many friends to do it!"

"Alright, calm down lads!" Imre called, stepping between them. "There will be plenty of time to tear each other apart once we're back aboard the ship. But I think we would agree that we would rather kill each other there than let these minotaurs do it, aye?"

Urgan's face was so red that Bromm feared he was about to burst. But instead, the dwarf turned and stomped back through the crowd to the cliff's edge.

"Now that that's settled, what's the plan, captain?"

"We'll fight our way back to the ship with the harpies above us. We must avoid the deep forest, so make for the beach as fast as we can and move along it to where the Shepherd is anchored."

"The path down this butte is narrow, and the minotaurs have it bottled up. Can't the harpies just fly us there?"

"You'll tire them out moving all of us. And we can't afford to leave a small party behind on the butte, else the minotaurs will surge up here and overwhelm them."

"Very well," Imre sighed. "Lead the way, captain."

Bromm took the lead with saber and pistol at the ready. As Imre had warned, the path was narrow and treacherous. It wound its way along the edge of the butte until it debouched into the thick, foreboding forest at the bottom, where even now Bromm could see minotaurs lurking. He steeled himself for battle as they hiked down the path, the steeply sloping trail seemingly pushing them faster toward the inevitable clash. High overheard, Rayada and her harpies circled, waiting.

The sailors came to the bottom of the path all too soon, and Bromm formed them into a tight knot with pikes at the forefront. The minotaurs lurked in the trees, unwilling to come out. A harpy's shadow passed along the ground, marking the most direct path to the beach. Bromm took a deep breath.

"Fire!" he called, and half his shooters let loose into the treeline. Two minotaurs fell, one dead and the other dying, but the others held back. Bromm waited for his shooters to reload, then directed the rest to fire again. This time, the minotaurs roared in anger and surged forward.

"Tighten up the ranks!" he called, pulled his pikemen closer together. A score of minotaurs thundered down at them, horns lowered for goring strikes and axes raised to cleave asunder whomever might survive it. Scattered shots from above whipped through the minotaurs' herd, felling another here or there. The harpies were playing it safe but still exacting their toll. The ground beneath his feet shook, and Bromm could feel the fear rising in his throat as the minotaurs neared. Behind him, Imre called for fire again, and the other half of his shooters let loose with another volley.

The effect was ruinous at such close range. A half dozen minotaurs fell, their roars of agony driving the others into either a panic or a frenzy. Some fell back in consternation while a handful more plunged onwards - one right onto the point of Pyet's pike. The ashwood shaft bent under the impact but did not break, and Pyet drove it deeper into his foe. The minotaur dropped one axe, crying out in what Bromm hoped was a dying wail. He did not have to hope much longer, for Urgan stepped forward and fired a pistol directly into its throat from point-blank range. The beast crumpled to the ground straight away.

More shots from above tore through the minotaurs that held back, accompanied by arrows and a hail of javelins. Bromm stepped forward and thrust his saber into the thigh of a minotaur distracted by Imre. The brute roared in pain, whirling on him to swipe off his head with a wickedly hooked axe, but Bromm ducked beneath the blow and darted back out of range. The minotaur took one staggering step toward him, but Imre plunged his own sword into the beast's back. The monster cried out in pain again, this one more pitiful than frightening. It turned back toward Imre but teetered on its bad leg and fell to the ground. Bromm darted forward once again and delivered a heavy, two-handed slash to the back of its neck.

His saber bit deep. He heard the crack of bone and the minotaur's head lolled limply forward. For good measure, he thrust the tip through the open wound until it emerged out the other side, then tore the blade sideways. The nearly severed head flopped to the side as if hinged, and the minotaur collapsed into the dirt.

That was enough for its fellows, who fled back into the forest.

"Hurrah, they've had enough!" Imre shouted, but Bromm threw cold water on his fire.

"They'll be back once they get their stomachs back. Quickly, make for the beach!"

Gathering the men and their packs that they had discarded for the fight, Bromm urged them forward through the trees. Beneath the dense boughs they were out of sight of the harpies, but Bromm could occasionally see their shadows passing overhead. With Lukodo to bring up the rear, Bromm hurried his crew toward the beach. Behind him, he could hear shouts and roars reverberating through the trees. The white-furred minotaur had been replaced by a new leader, and the new beast was hungry.

"They'll be coming again soon," Bromm called over his shoulder. He hacked aside a low-hanging branch with his saber. "We must be on the beach again before they rally."

The men chorused in agreement, and they increased their pace. The beach was visible ahead, a white-gold belt peaking through the trees. In the trees behind, Bromm could hear a rumbling chant and the clashing of iron on iron.

Nearly at a run, the crew broke out onto the beach and kept moving. Bromm halted at the treeline until all his men had hurried past. Lukodo passed by with a tense smile and a nod.

"We made, Bromm."

"Aye, we did," Bromm replied, "And look!" he pointed out to sea, where the white, billowing sails of the Shepherd heralded her arrival. She was perhaps a half mile off and already preparing to drop anchor. The first of her longboats was suspended in the hoist, preparing to put to sea.

"They won't be long now," Lukodo smiled. "We've just got to hold on."

"I've got a plan for that." Bromm signaled to Rayada, who, after some hesitation, descended to the beach with two of her sisters. "I want your sisters to land here," Bromm instructed, laying out with his outstretched hand a skirmish line along the face of his crew's formation. "When the minotaurs burst from the forest, harry them with shot and arrows. If they come close, take wing and stay out of reach. But do not give them a moment's rest. By the time they rest our pike line, they'll be close to breaking."

Rayada nodded and turned to the others. She screeched commands to them and set them off to convey the plan to the rest of the flock. As they flew off, more roars sounded from the trees. Bromm and Lukodo hurriedly abandoned the treeline and joined their crewmates a stone's throw from the water's edge. The harpies took up their skirmish line as ordered, and Bromm tried to settle his breathing as they waited.

The wait was torturous, but not long. Reinforced from gods-only-knew-where, nearly thirty minotaurs burst from the trees, roaring furiously with their blades held high. They thundered down at Rayada's skirmish line, taking fire from both ahead and above. Firelocks crackled, filling the air with smoke to accompany the hoof-churned sand. The minotaurs snarled as they brought themselves into arm's reach of the harpies, only for the harpies to take flight, wings beating furiously as they retreated above and away. The minotaurs bellowed in frustrated rage, earning nothing but a fresh shower of lead and arrows. One fell with a javelin in its eye, another with an arrow in each knee.

The harpies fluttered away to land elsewhere on the beach, and the minotaurs searched for new prey. Their eyes settled on Bromm's knot of sailors further out along the beach. Their new leader, an ugly, one-eyed monster with russet fur, snarled and clashed his axes together before pointing in Bromm's direction. With a mighty warcry that set Bromm's teeth chattering, the russet beast and its remaining companions hurled themselves forward toward the sailors' knot.

"One volley at fifty paces, then another at twenty," Bromm commanded, trying to stay calm as thousands of pounds of muscle and fury rumbled toward them. He raised a pistol in his free hand, holding his saber aloft with the other. The beasts bore down on them, the distance falling away with terrifying speed. Seventy paces, sixty paces, fifty... "FIRE!"

He sliced his saber downward for emphasis, and the air crackled with gunfire. Through the billowing smoke he could see minotaurs fall, limbs blasted apart, and holes torn right through their powerful chests. The survivors staggered on, and soon enough Lukodo cried "fire!" and a fresh volley ripped through them. The few who remained standing pulled up to a shocked standstill. Arrows streaked in from above and the harpies' firelocks continued to crackle.

Bromm stepped forward, pistol leveled. He fired a shot directly into the chest of the russet-furred minotaur. The monster staggered silently, then looked to Bromm in surprise. It fell to one knee, holding itself up with one hand in the sand.

From above, Rayada fell on him like a bolt from the heavens, her taloned feet reaching for the creature's throat. She found it and tore a red gash from shoulder to shoulder. Stunned, the beast fell backwards, staring supinely up at her as she readied a javelin for the killing blow. The harpies screeched above her in delight, their queen standing victorious over their hated foe.

One lone minotaur hauled itself to its feet behind her, bleeding profusely from a chest wound. It lumbered toward the queen, threatening to take her unawares. The harpies called, but the queen was lost in her moment of triumph.

Bromm bolted forward with a cry of warning. He fell upon the creature as it neared the queen, who plunged her javelin down into the russet-furred minotaur's remaining eye. The monster twitched and lay still; the queen lifted her head, then turned to face behind her. Her eyes went wide as she spied the minotaur staggering toward her, her wings beat but did not lift her clear of its grasp.

Bromm fell upon the brute from behind, splintering its spine with a two-handed saber blow just before it reached the harpy queen. The minotaur stumbled, stunned and crippled, then fell to its side in the sand. An arrow streaked in from above, burying itself in the monster's flank. Another struck it in the shoulder and it lay still. Bromm ran it through with his saber to be sure.

He looked up. The few minotaurs who remained were in full flight, thundering back toward the forested interior. Rayada smiled at him, pointing over his shoulder. Bromm followed her gaze to see the White Shepherd's longboats approaching fast, his beloved brig resting at anchor to their stern.

"The minotaurs will be a long time in rallying," he called to his men, "but let us put to sea anyway. We have done enough here, and this island is set to sink back into the sea when the moon turns. Back to the Shepherd!"

The men cheered in triumph, fortunate to be brought through the jaws of death by their captain and their newfound allies. In orderly groups, they boarded the longboats and rowed their way back to the ship where they were welcomed with warm embraces and hearty slaps on the back. Bromm clasped hands with his loyal officers Sahat and Tahavi.

"Welcome back, captain," Tahavi beamed. "I see your friends were a great help."

"Aye, they were," Bromm agreed. Sahat leaned close.

"They will be giving those firelocks back, won't they? They were expensive..."

Bromm could only laugh. The harpies triumphantly circled the ship, squawking in delight. Rayada and her closest sisters swooped in low to perch on the gunwale and rigging. They regarded the crew with curiosity, and the crew returned their stares with a mixture of suspicion but also great interest, for the harpies were naked to a woman, and the crew sailors to a man. More harpies swooped in to perch in the rigging, looking down at the mortal men below. One called to Rayada in their squawking tongue and the queen called back. A wry grin spread across her face, and the harpy queen looked to the horizon. The white sliver of the moon hung low above the deep blue sea. She turned to Bromm with a hungry smile.

"There is still time before the island fades," the harpy queen said. She passed an approving look over his crew. "It has been a long time since many of my sisters have seen men and it may yet be some time again."

"A revel, then?" Bromm suggested. "To celebrate our escape? I agree. Sahat, break out the rum! We will have an orgy to shame Nystra herself!"