Calgaich the Swordsman Read Free Page A

shuddered and creaked. Cuill swiftly drove his crewmen to their work. The sails lost wind and fluttered madly, with the wet lines beating a drum tattoo against the canvas. The birlinn slowly heeled until the wind caught her, filling her sails with a powerful blast. She plunged deeply, as though intent on diving down to meet Nodons in his dark lair beneath the sea.
    The Picts yelled wildly. Their boat lost speed as the birlinn cloaked the wind from them. For an instant the Pictish vessel wallowed with little way on her, and then the lean prow of the birlinn poked closer as Calgaich leaned full on the tiller bar. He bent his head as a spear flashed toward him. The blade swept through his hair and its shaft rapped his shoulders as it sped past into the chest of one of the crewmen. His mouth squared. He coughed thickly as blood poured from his mouth. He fell backward over the side of the vessel with the spear still sticking from his chest like some strange leafless growth.
    The prow of the birlinn struck the bow oar on the larboard side of the other craft and snapped it like a twig, lifting the rower helplessly from the bench. The handle of the oar drove up into his chest, and hurled him upward and then over the side of the boat.
    One after another the long oars were snapped off or smashed back against the side of the vessel as the birlinn surged close alongside it. Screaming, cursing Picts were caught by the handles of the oars and flung about within the craft. As the stem of the birlinn neared the stem of the other vessel a trio of Picts who had been standing near their helmsman beat their swords against their wooden shields to avert evil and readied themselves to leap aboard the slow-moving Hibernian boat.
    “Cuill!” Calgaich shouted. He leaped to the side of the birlinn as Cuill took over the tiller bar. A Pict jumped the narrow gap between the two vessels. Swiftly the tip of Calgaich’s spear met the oncoming Pict to brush aside his shield. The keen iron struck deep into the man’s chest. His momentum still drove him on. Calgaich braced his legs and swung with the impetus of the Pict to lift him high into the air, squirming like a live hare on a spit. He pitch-forked him clear over the far side of the birlinn .
    A second Pict leaped the gap between the boats. He drove in hard under the downcoming spear with his shield close up under his chin while he probed eagerly for Calgaich's guts with his sword blade. An instant before the Pict’s sword tip could plunge into Calgaich’s belly, Calgaich brought the bronze balancing ball at the end of his spear shaft down in a smashing blow atop the Pict’s battered helmet and drove it down over his eyes. He staggered blindly toward the far side of the birlinn. Calgaich whirled. He set himself and drove his bloody leaf-shaped spear blade into the Pict’s back. The Pict shrieked just once as he plunged over the side. Calgaich drew back, letting the weight of the dying Pict withdraw the spear blade.
    Lines with barbed grappling hooks were thrown over from the enemy craft. They sank into the deck of the birlinn. The two vessels swung close together. Three Picts readied themselves to leap as the grapnels caught fast.
    Calgaich dropped his war spear and whipped out his long sword. The iron blade hissed as it cleared the bronze sheath. Calgaich swung his shield from his left shoulder to his left arm and thrust his forearm through the loops. He cut through the nearest of the grapnel lines. A Pict jumped onto the deck of the birlinn. He slashed wildly at Calgaich's grinning face. Calgaich’s shield struck the shield of the Pict with a grinding of the metal bosses. The reiver was staggered. The sword tip flicked in once, hardly a few inches, and the Pict was dead before he hit the deck. He rolled against Calgaich’s legs. Calgaich leaped high over the fallen Pict and met another reiver with a downsweep of his sword. At the same time he raised the metal edge of his shield under the chin