Grunting with effort, Mordecai hefted his arm. Ice covered it, and his hand was already numb from the cold. He lifted his arm with his other hand. Then he swung it down at the deck. The impact travelled from his fist to his shoulder, seeming to shake his bones all along the way. Chips of dirty ice flew free, going rotten and melted without its sorcerous creator present. Mordecai grit his teeth and swung, again and again until he was free.
He climbed back to his feet. His limb ached, and he felt almost withered, his mouth like it was filled with balls of cotton. One of Fengel's Men appeared and hacked down at him with a hatchet. Mordecai brought his blade up and parried the blow against the haft of his assailant's weapon. The movement was sloppy, and he felt the grip of his sword slip almost out between his fingers. Mordecai cursed and stumbled back. The pirate grinned and raised his axe overhead with both hands.
Foolish. Even numbed as he was, he was far from helpless. Mordecai stepped forward, too close to use the blade of his cutlass, the blade out at an angle. He rammed the basket hilt of his sword up into the other man's face. The fellow's nose broke and he yelled as blood flew on the air. Workmanlike, Mordecai drew his sword down and back, cutting the pirate's throat. Mordecai turned away, flexing his hand on the grip of his blade and working the blood back into his fingers. He looked about, first for threats, then to take in the battle raging about him.
Natasha's crew was savage, but Fengel's Men fought well. The two pirate crews raged back and forth, individual duels swirling into a great clatter of squealing swords and the howls of the wounded. Near the helm he spied Captain Fengel, neatly holding off a pair of Natasha's Reavers. Mordecai frowned and began moving in that direction. He avoided further engagements, only lashing out with his blade in opportunity, as much to restore his blade arm as to help his crew. But halfway to Fengel, Mordecai spied Natasha jumping into the fray against her husband.
"I told you you'd pay for this!" she laughed at him, hacking out with her cutlass.
Fengel parried the blow neatly, turning his saber to catch an opportunistic thrust by her crewman, a vicious woman by the name of Reaver Jane. "I assure you, darling" he replied calmly. "Listening again to the chalkboard screech of your voice is punishment enough." The pirate captain stepped sideways, bringing the bound blades directly into the path of his third assailant's strike. Fengel disengaged and then lashed downward, stabbing Jane in the foot. She howled, dropping her sword and falling to the deck, hands grasping at her.
Natasha shoved her crewmate aside and brought her blade up, thrusting at her husband. Fengel stepped to the side to avoid the blow and cut upward, slicing through the bandolier she wore and the front of her blouse. Natasha ducked backward, clasping at her blouse, yelping.
"Come, now," said Fengel, green eyes flashing, smiling slightly as he turned to the remaining pirate. "Surely there's nothing there that your crew hasn't seen, especially during your many, many, drunken adventures."
The last pirate stared at Fengel, eyes wide, aware that he was outmatched. Fengel dispatched him with a flourish, barely turning in time to parry the wild blow that Natasha had launched at him from behind. The pirate princess fought with abandon, hate in her eyes, careless of the disarray her clothing hung in. "Is it any wonder?" She yelled at him. Fengel lost his smile, concentrating on deflecting her wild blows. "Marriage to you would drive a saint to drink!" She hacked at him again. "You and your pompous, arrogant, holier-than-thou attitude. You wear a monocle, for Her sake. Why? Your vision is perfectly fine!"
Fengel sniffed. "A gentleman of breeding maintains a specific standard of—"
"Ha!" cackled Natasha. "You're even more baseborn than I am. You just never got over that Perinese press-ganging of yours, being passed up for every promotion. So now you play pirate, pretending to be the gentleman officer you never were!"
Fengel growled, composure cracked. He parried her blows and then went on the offensive, a blurred wall of steel that licked around her defenses. Natasha's eyes widened and she took a step back, then two. She shut up, all her attention focused on keeping the man before her at bay.
Mordecai stepped in from behind. Quick as an eel, he thrust squarely at Fengel's back. The pirate captain wheeled, knocking the blade away at the last second. Mordecai blinked, surprised. Fengel must have noticed his approach, but how, he could not say.
Fengel quickly backed away, putting both of them within his field of vision. "Oh, basely done," he said, disgustedly. "Is that this excellent skill that I keep hearing of?"
"So long as it works," replied Mordecai, voice more even than he felt. His arm still ached from the ice. He raised his sword back into guard position. Fengel did as well, a fencer's stance, body narrowed, facing them both, off hand tucked behind his back. Natasha moved apart from him, circling around, attempting to split Fengel's attention.