00.1 - The Blood Price by Dan Abnett, Mike Lee - (ebook by Undead)

another villager, sitting alone against the side of a wagon’s
wheel. He approached the hunched figure, kneeling respectfully at his side.
    “We came as soon as we could, cousin,” the lieutenant said. “What you did
here was… very brave.”
    The figure sighed. “I know,” he replied in a dead voice. “But we had no
choice.” Before the lieutenant could reply Malus drew a dagger from within his
sleeve and stabbed the sorrowful elf in the eye.
    As one, the “villagers” leapt at the surprised spearmen, slashing and
stabbing with their knives. Other corsairs leapt from the sands and attacked the
elves from behind. In moments the slaughter was complete.
    Lhunara pulled off the villager’s tunic she’d worn over her armour.
Breathless, she staggered over to Malus. “The Lord of Murder favoured us,” she
gasped. “But what now?”
    The highborn levered himself painfully to his feet and pulled off his own
disguise. “All is not yet lost.” He gestured out to sea. “ Manticore wasn’t as fleet-footed at Master Gul hoped.”
    Delayed by taking on her boats and with only a minimal crew to work her
sails, the corsair had been quickly overtaken by the elven warship, and now they
were grappled together in a brutal boarding action.
    “These Sea Guard must have come ashore a few miles to the south,” Malus said.
“Their boats are likely waiting for them on the beach. If we can reach them in
time we can still rescue Manticore and get ourselves out of this mess.”
    Lhunara thought it over and nodded. “We’ll load everyone into the wagons and
ride the horses to death if we must,” she said with a fierce grin, and turned to
shout orders to the corsairs.
    As the raiders clambered aboard the wagons Malus surveyed the bloodstained
sands one last time. Killing the slaves had been the only way, he realized, but
the loss still ate at him. “Worth their weight in silver,” he muttered, shaking
his head in disgust. “I’ll likely not see such wealth again.”
     
    Manticore wallowed in the cold swells of the Sea of Malice as she limped the
last few leagues back to port. It had been a long voyage back; the raider had
suffered considerable punishment at the hands of the vengeful elves, and by the
time Malus and the raiding party had managed to sneak onto the enemy warship’s
deck, Gul’s troops had already been decimated. But the enemy captain had been
overconfident, believing his troops had finished the raiders trapped on the
beach, and had never expected a sudden attack from shore. By the time he
realized his mistake it had been far too late. The battle ended swiftly after
that. Malus ordered the warship set ablaze and the Manticore made good
her escape, and rewarded the crew with the plunder he’d taken from the village
in Ulthuan, in a single stroke he’d won the allegiance of the crew away from
Hathan Gul.
    Master Gul had abased himself at Malus’ feet when the fighting was done. His
apologies were voluminous, and his pleas for mercy were most sincere. The
highborn gave the treacherous slug every opportunity to convey the depth of his
regret, slicing off only a small part of Gul’s body each day. The ship’s master
was still alive when Malus offered him to the sea witches as they passed the
tower of Karond Kar.
    Standing at the prow of the crippled ship, Malus fished into the small coin
pouch at his belt. His fingers closed on a handful of rough objects and he held
them up to the sunlight. “All that plunder, and this is all the gold I have to
my name,” he said, showing Silar and Lhunara a handful of Gul’s teeth.
    The young knight shook his head and turned his gaze back to the docks of Clar
Karond, just a few miles off the bow. Lhunara chuckled. “Melt them down and have
them made into a set of dice,” she suggested.
    “Perhaps I will,” the highborn mused.
    “What happens once we reach port?” Silar asked. “We’re more than three months
early, and you’ve nothing to show for