Sudden lightning flashed from the harbor, racing in a horizontal line until it touched the mainmast of Falkane's cog. Wood splintered with a thunderous crack and embers blew up in a flurry from the wood. Sheared, the mainmast started to topple toward the deck, then got caught up in the rigging and sailcloth.
"Cut that damned mast free!" Falkane roared, rushing up to the stern castle himself.
Sailors moved quickly to do his bidding, clambering into the rigging with long knives in their teeth. Leaping from the stern castle, the pirate captain caught hold of the rigging and climbed through it with the agility of a monkey.
Despite all the truly monstrous things Laaqueel had heard about Bloody Falkane, she had to admit the man was good at his chosen profession. She watched him hack at the rigging holding the mainmast, calling out directions to his crew. In seconds, the tall mast started toppling over the side, its descent controlled by the rigging the pirates cut expertly so that it didn't land on the deck.
An arrow thudded solidly into the railing, missing Laaqueel's hand by inches and drawing her attention back to her own affairs. She drew up the heavy sahuagin crossbow she held and sighted on the boatload of Baldur's Gate defenders bearing down on the ship she was on.
Carved out of whalebone and strung with braided gut, the weapon was cable of firing above or below the water. She gazed down the greenish-gray quarrel shaft that had been chipped from claw coral that grew in hard, straight lengths. Hard as the bronze the surface worlders used, it was also razor sharp even on the sides. The hollowed shark's tooth serving as the arrowhead was filled with poison and was designed to break off inside a target. Even if the sharp quarrel didn't hit a killing spot, the poison ensured the kill.
With the approaching boat less than thirty feet out, Laaqueel fired the crossbow. The quarrel flashed forward and filled a man's eyesocket. He screamed and went down, brushing at the blood gushing onto his face. When poison stilled his heart, his companions had to shove his dead, weight from them.
"To me!" Laaqueel cried to the sahuagin behind her.
They bounded forward at once. Only a few of them had crossbows. The claw coral quarrels embedded in the boat and the men, snapped off in shields, breaking the staggered ranks the defenders of Baldur's Gate had tried to form.
Laaqueel had enough time to reload and get one more shot off, striking a man and piercing his leather armor. The impact of the quarrel twisted him sideways and threw him from the boat. Instantly, a dorsal fin cut the water, zooming toward the flailing swimmer. The malenti priestess didn't know if the poison or the shark got the man first.
The boats collided with a shattering thump that brought the smaller one up out of the water. Some of the men were already in motion. They stabbed spears upward, tangling the sahuagin tridents.
Braced as she was and expecting the collision, Laaqueel nearly fell. She regained her footing with difficulty and tossed the crossbow aside. She also loosened the thigh quiver of quarrels and kicked it away. Taking her trident up, she turned to face the invaders.
One of the other pirate ships raced past. The archers aboard unleashed a brief volley at the men in the watch boat. Then it went on by, closing on the harbor. Even at eight ships, the pirates weren't strong enough to take apart the defenses of Baldur's Gate, but they weren't alone. Iakhovas's magery had seen to that.
Rubbery ropes of arms shot up from the water without warning, wrapped around the watch ship, and yanked it almost to a full stop. Men tumbled from the ship, pitched clear by the unexpected seizure. A mast-mounted lantern smashed against the ship's deck and splashed a long blaze of fire that ate into the wood. Before the ship's crew recovered, sahuagin surfaced and slit their throats with long claws. Most of the crew died without a chance to defend themselves.
On the docks, sahuagin slithered up from the port and ripped into the citizens gripped in the thrall of fear. In seconds they were walking over corpses, hunting out fresh kills. Their fierce cries of bloodlust and savage joy rang through the alleys of Baldur's Gate and over the port. Men raced forward trying to protect loved ones or friends, and died as sahuagin tridents knifed through their stomachs or ripped through their lungs. Other sahuagin threw fishhook-embedded nets over small groups, then pulled them into the water and beneath the surface to drown them like rats. Even as Laaqueel faced the men trying to swarm up the cog, the malenti was aware of the dozen or more giant crayfish that surfaced near the west docks around the Seatower and wreaked havoc among the Flaming Fist ships that tried to put out into the harbor. It was the mercenaries of the Flaming Fist who ran Baldur's Gate, and they were coming to the aid of the watch.
Fully eight feet long and equipped with huge pincers nearly a yard in length, the crayfish plucked men from the docks and the ships. Their hard, mottled brown, chitinous carapaces stood against sword blade, arrow, and spear. Their huge antennae whipped the air in a frenzy. The great pincers cut into their victims, sometimes sawing them in half. Other creatures Iakhovas controlled through arcane means swam beneath the river, working with the sahuagin to take the harbor.
Holding the trident in both hands, Laaqueel thrust the tines into a man's face, forcing him back off the side of the cog. Blood spilled across the deck from the man she wounded as well as sahuagin and other surface dwellers. The planks grew slippery.
A large man in chain mail armor and a thick helmet heaved himself over the railing. Scars decorated his arms and face. He carried a huge warhammer in one hand and a lighted lantern in the other. He scowled at the sahuagin, fixing his hateful gaze on Laaqueel.
"By the precious left hand of Tyr Grimjaws, I don't know how come you to be with all these deep devils, elf, but you're gonna regret it."
The warrior swung the lantern over his head, then brought it crashing down on the deck. The oil ran in a pool, and the flame from the burning wick chased it, starting a blaze that stood a foot high. Startled by the flame, already aware of the way it was quickly drying her skin, Laaqueel backed away. The other sahuagin did too, leaving enough room for seven other warriors to clamber onto the deck.
The big warrior took his hammer in both hands and said, "I'm Fyidler Tross, a sergeant of the Flaming Fist, and I'm gonna send you back into Umberlee's cold embrace myself!"
He came at her, the hammer raised high over his head.
Even as the water closed over his head and the darkness sucked him down, Jherek tried to get a grip on the sahuagin's arm. The creature's strength was incredible, but Malorrie's training had included ways to make joints work against their owners, and made the young sailor aware of the weaknesses of a hold.
The moonlight pooled silver against the harbor water overhead, allowing him to see the sahuagin's hand as the sea devil flicked out its claws. Clicking and whistling sounded in Jherek's ears, warring with the thumping of his own heart.
Two other shapes slid through the water, closing in.
The young sailor thrust his sword up, blocking the fierce sweep of claws at his face. The blade bit into the sea devil's forearm. Jherek brought the edge down, ripping into the flesh. Blood burst into the water.
The sahuagin whistled shrilly and clicked madly, giving voice to the agony that gripped it. Taking advantage of the moment, Jherek ran his empty hand down his side, then thrust up in the hollow inside the sea devil's restraining arm. The hold broke, allowing Jherek to go free.