The Red Sea by Edward W. Robertson

fires. The town was burning.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
4
     
     
    Twill stared at the blooming flame, spine straightening. "Mr. Fredricks! Come about. We're getting out of here."
    Hollers and screams filtered from the shore. The ship lurched, heaving around. Dante ran toward the captain. "What are we doing?"
    She barely looked his way. "That appears to be a war. I'm removing ourselves from it."
    "Do you intend to find somewhere else to land?"
    "Assuming the entire island isn't on fire."
    "Good enough." He moved back, giving her space to conduct her business.
    As the ship turned, avoiding a black rock spiking from the waves, Blays thumped up beside him. "Where exactly are we going?"
    "Away," Dante said.
    "There's a problem with that: those people over there appear to be getting killed."
    "We haven't yet stepped foot on this place and you already want to start meddling? How would we even know who to help?"
    "Easy rule of thumb: you help the side whose village is being burned. In all the wars we've seen, have you ever known the village-burners to be on the right side of justice?"
    Across the bay, a shirtless man stumbled onto the shore, clutching a staff or spear. A figure stalked after him, dressed in chain mail, sword gleaming in the harsh noon light. He battered the spearman to the ground and drove his blade into the man's body.
    "No," Dante said. "I haven't."
    He jogged across the deck toward Twill, who was deep in argument with Mr. Naran. "Captain, we need to go ashore."
    She scowled his way. "First rule of successful trading: never, ever get involved in local affairs."
    "These people are about to be slaughtered. It may be very easy to get a corpse to agree to your price, but you'll find it rather more difficult for him to pay you."
    "I won't feed my men to a war they have nothing to do with."
    "You don't have to," Dante said. "Give us a longboat. We'll do the rest."
    Twill gritted her teeth, then gave the command. A minute later, her crew had lowered a longboat to the water. Blays scampered down the rope ladder to the boat, Dante on his heels. They paddled toward an empty beach just south of the town, soaring over the bay's placid waters, which shallowed rapidly, turning an outrageous aquamarine.
    Dante watched the shore, but between the smoke, buildings, and jungle, there was no way to get a clear view of what was happening. "Should I assume you have no plan whatsoever?"
    "I thought I'd charge at them waving my sword around and whooping like a barbarian. Or were you looking for something more subtle?"
    "Given the circumstances, I suppose that's as good as we can get. But make sure you don't hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it."
    Blays glanced over his shoulder. "If we're going by your generous standards, I don't think I have anything to worry about."
    The longboat made landfall, sand grinding its hull. The beach was forty feet deep, fringed by ground-hugging grass. Beyond that, tall trees grew in profusion, their trunks naked of leaves, giant fronds sprouting from their crowns. Dante hopped out of the boat and sprinted for the cover of the trees. As he ran, he pulled his knife, slicing a shallow cut into his skin. Nether surged forward. Beside him, Blays drew both swords.
    Inside the treeline, they paused to assess what lay ahead. Two hundred yards up the sand, three men ran toward a wooden building, stilts elevating it a few feet above the grass. The men charged up its steps. While two of them ducked inside the front door, the third turned and fired a bow up the beach at five men carrying swords and piecemeal metal armor. The archer loosed a second round, staggering one of the pursuers, then ran inside the house and slammed the rickety door.
    The four remaining armored men continued toward the house. One carried a flaming brand.
    Blays rushed forward. Dante swore under his breath and ran after him. As the man with the brand touched the flames to the door, Dante splayed out his hand. A bolt of shadows streaked through the