Too Easy

The mate lit a torch with shaking hands and swept it around. "Who did that? Come out, you bastard, and I will chop you into pieces for the sharks!"

The louder a man shouted, the more frightened he usually was. Ronan knew that reaction well. He watched patiently to see what they would do next.

The one-armed captain ordered more torches lit and told his men to be careful. He seemed almost unconcerned by the deaths, but Ronan sensed caution beneath that calm. This was a careful opponent.

When another unlucky pirate triggered a trap, the captain assigned men specifically to clear the path.

The mate cursed as he looked around. "When did the Naathi become this clever?"

"Maybe it is not the Naathi," the captain said. "Perhaps whoever did this is watching us now."

He studied the small traps and understood enough to be wary. Then he scanned the dark forest. It was quiet, too quiet. From the beginning, tonight had felt wrong.

Watching the two men clearing the way ahead, he finally called into the darkness. "Friend, whatever the problem is, we can discuss it. There is no need to keep slaughtering my men."

He waited. No answer came. Ahead, his men found another lethal trap. The captain called again. "If you keep pressing us, you will make an enemy of me." Still no reply.

At last his anger broke through caution. He ordered all his men forward to clear the path. They had to find the Naathi village before dawn.

Trap after trap was pulled out. A few were triggered by mistake. A neat row of stakes killed three pirates at once, and many more were left bleeding.

Finding traps in the dark was no simple task. Before they had even reached the Naathi, the crew had lost half its fighting strength.

What made them truly miserable was that they still could not find the person responsible. From beginning to end, all they heard were screams.

Even the pirates clearing the front began seeing danger in every shadow and refused to keep moving.

The one-armed captain's teeth ground together. He had no choice but to order a retreat to the Sea Hawk.

Before leaving, however, he threw the torches into the surrounding brush. The night wind was strong. Fire caught the dry leaves beneath the trees and grew quickly. Soon flames began spreading through the forest.

The captain seemed to be venting his frustration. He had always believed the troublemaker was hiding nearby. Fire might drive him out.

What they did not know was that fire could not hurt Ronan. It could, however, send them to hell.

"Ah! Fire! Fire! Help me!"

Somehow, one wounded pirate caught flame. Worse, the fires that had been spreading outward suddenly began closing around the group.

Through the heat and wavering light, the captain thought he saw a man inside the flames. He told himself it was a trick of the eyes. With the wave of heat rolling toward him, he did not dare look closely.

He fled toward the beach. The others were less fortunate. The mate was caught by a wounded pirate who grabbed his ankle and pleaded, "Save me. Take me with you."

Under Ronan's deliberate guidance, the fire swallowed most of the crew. Only a handful followed their captain back to the beach.

Seeing their collapse, Ronan stopped hiding. He picked up the rough bow he had prepared and began shooting the fleeing men like dogs in a ditch.

The one-armed captain looked as if he wanted to chew Ronan's bones. "So it was you. You damned thing. You will regret being born."

Ronan did not waste words. The distance was good enough.

One by one, the captain's men died. Rage twisted the one-armed man's face. He stepped in front of the last few with a heavy blade, and Ronan's arrows suddenly lost their use.

The arrows were handmade from island materials, not proper war arrows. With a blade that good, the captain could knock them aside before they bit deep.

Ronan smiled and retreated into the forest again. This time, the captain abandoned caution. He charged after him, certain he could catch Ronan and flay him down to the bone.

A fireball met him instead. The captain failed to dodge and took the blast head-on.

"I thought you were clever," Ronan said. "Turns out I gave you too much credit."

The captain's arrogance was gone. His face contorted with pain and fear. He had never imagined his enemy was a sorcerer.

Gods, what sin had brought him to this monster?

"My lord sorcerer, please, spare me! I will serve you. I will be your most loyal slave."

The flames clung to him like living things, roasting his flesh. By then, pleading was the only weapon he had left.

Ronan shook his head with a cold smile and raised his hand again. The pirates who had followed were struck one after another. Their deaths were cleaner. Fire punched through their heads and burned their brains black.

The one-armed pirate fell into deeper despair. He tried to make one final attack, but Ronan saw it coming.

His scream followed him through a long and painful death. When everything settled, Ronan disposed of the bodies that could cause trouble and looked toward the rising sun. Loneliness pressed in around him.

Then, not far away, dragon-prowed ships began approaching the island. Pirate ships in the surrounding waters saw those dragon-headed prows and turned away at once. Some sailors were so frantic they nearly fell overboard.

Chaos broke across their decks, and it was not hard to see that these ships held a terrifying place in pirate hearts.

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